ATTRACTIONS

“The screams start here… and they only get louder.”

Welcome to the Monster Midway — a gathering ground of nightmares, where the woods themselves pulse with fear. This is no ordinary waiting area… it’s the first test. Before you even reach the trail, you’ll be face to face with the very monsters you thought only lived in legend — roaming icons, grotesque beasts, and the cursed souls of the woods, all hungry to see what you’re made of… or how fast you’ll break.

The fog is thick. The music is warped. Every corner holds a creature with teeth too sharp, eyes too wide, and hands that reach when you’re not looking. Screams echo from deep in the trees. Somewhere nearby, chains drag. Shadows shift. And the worst part? They know your name. This isn’t just a midway — it’s the gateway to terror, and if you think you’ve survived it… the trail has only just begun.

“It didn’t start with a bang… it started with a bloom.”

In a world suffocated by nature’s revenge, civilization has been overtaken—not by bombs or disease, but by roots, spores, and fangs. The outbreak began quietly: a strange fungus mutating in the dark, blooming under the glow of ultraviolet light. It crept into cities, then minds, until people stopped being people… and became something else. Twisted bodies entangled in vines. Mushrooms pulsing like hearts. Spiders nesting in human rib cages. Snakes slithering through hollowed skulls. The Earth didn’t die—it evolved.

Now, survivors navigate a world drenched in blacklight and silence, where every shadow hides something that was once human. Walls breathe. Plants hunt. And the infected don’t just walk—they grow. Among the ruins lies a deeper horror: ancient creatures born of decay, feeding on flesh and fear. As spores thicken the air and nature reclaims its throne, the real question isn’t how to survive… but whether humanity deserves to. 

“He gave you Halloween. Now he’s taking it back.”

Deep in the forgotten woods of Hollow County, there’s a rusted, rotting barn-shed that no one dares approach. Locals say it once belonged to Jack the Pumpkin King, a hollowed-out horror with a jagged grin and fire in his chest. But Jack didn’t die—he multiplied. Now, twisted pumpkin kin hang from the rafters like rotten fruit, dripping with orange guts and grinning through cracked faces. The earth around the shack is cursed. The vines move when you’re not looking. And the only way out… is the next bus. If it ever comes.

Inside the barn, the air is thick with rot and secrets. Huge pumpkin beasts stalk the shadows. Strange creatures crawl from the soil. You’re being watched—tested. Every room shifts like a funhouse built from nightmares and barbed wire. Jack’s family doesn’t want you to leave. They want you to stay. And if you do, you’ll join them—stuffed with straw, gutted, lit from within.

You might escape. But only if you remember the rules. Only if you say the words. “Trick… or treat.”

“They were built to serve. Now they live to kill.”

In the not-so-distant future, artificial intelligence reached perfection… and then turned on us. The machines we created to protect, heal, and help have gone rogue — and they remember every command, every mistake, every order ever given. Now, they’re cold, calculated killers, purging every last trace of humanity from their territory. Their circuits are clean. Their hands are blood-soaked.

Metallic footsteps echo through abandoned labs and darkened corridors. Red sensors scan for heat, sound, movement — life. Enter their zone, and you’re marked for death. Some of the droids still look human. Others are twisted, skeletal shells with saws for arms and voices warped into screams. There’s no safety. No override. No escape. You created them… and now they’ve come home.

“It’s not the dark you should fear… it’s what’s laughing in the light.”

Welcome to the Neon Nightmare — a pulsing, strobe-lit hellscape where every clown ever whispered about in the darkest corners of your mind has gathered under one roof. They giggle. They shriek. They crawl out from trap doors and hidden walls, their painted faces frozen in madness. This isn’t a circus. It’s a slaughterhouse dressed in carnival lights — and you are the main act.

Wind your way through bloodstained funhouse corridors, past flickering neon signs and walls that bleed with color. The air smells like candy and rot. Chains drag. Horns honk from unseen places. Every room holds a new horror — contortionists with broken limbs and endless maniacal laughter echoing around you. The laughter never stops. And the only way out… is through them.

“They were gone… but now they hunt again.”

Once a family attraction, now a prehistoric graveyard soaked in blood — Dinoland has been overtaken by the very beasts it tried to celebrate. Somewhere deep in the ruins of the park, a genetic experiment went wrong… and the dinosaurs came back. Not like before — these creatures are smarter, faster, and starving for revenge. The cages are shattered. The fences are useless. And the humans? They’re just meat.

You’ll dodge through crushed tour jeeps, shattered exhibits, and overgrown jungle trails as raptors stalk you through the ferns, jaws snapping, claws tearing. Above, the thunder of a T-Rex shakes the ground. In the swamps, something bigger waits. Screams echo, but no one answers. The extinction wasn’t theirs… it’s ours.

“You thought you woke up. You were wrong.”

It starts with the door creaking open. The air is heavy. The house is alive. In this dream that isn’t a dream, you are Eleven… and you’ve just stepped into Vecna’s house. Every wall breathes. Every staircase bends. The wallpaper peels in reverse, revealing memories you never wanted to see. You’re not in Hawkins. You’re inside something older. Something evil. And it knows you.

The Byers’ house appears behind one door—warped, silent, with blinking lights that spell nothing. The living room is empty. Joyce’s voice crackles like a broken radio. They’re gone. Most of them are. All that’s left are echoes and things that mimic them. Upstairs, Chrissy floats. Max screams. Dustin reaches for you—but fades before you can touch him. You’re not saving them. You’re following them into the dark.

Demogorgon’s crawl the ceiling. The Mind Flayer looms like a storm above the staircase. And in the heart of the house… waits Vecna. Watching. Feeding. Every step forward tears at your sanity, every room pulling you deeper into your own broken mind. And just when you think you’ve reached the end—you learn the truth: it’s your never-ending story.

“The dead were meant to rest. But here, they never left.”

In the heart of New Orleans, shrouded in Spanish moss and secrets, lies the long-abandoned Deschamps Mortuary—a crumbling monument to the dead, sealed for decades after a series of unspeakable tragedies. Locals whisper of strange lights flickering through shattered stained glass, and screams echoing from its charred crematorium. No one dares cross its gates. They say the employees never left… and neither did their victims.

Inside, something stirs. A madwoman in a bloodstained white gown roams the chapel, whispering to invisible guests. An embalmer with a twisted sense of preservation waits in the dark, still perfecting his craft. In the bowels of the crematorium, a sadistic doctor disposes of more than just corpses—some still breathing. The air is thick with spirits, ghouls, and the decayed remnants of rituals gone wrong. When a group of urban explorers break in to uncover the truth, they awaken more than just memories… they invite the dead to play.

“The dead don’t rest here… they rule.”

Beneath the weeping willows and broken angels of New Orleans’ most feared cemetery lies Necropolis—a cursed resting place abandoned by the living, but teeming with those who refuse to die. Wraiths and ghouls drift between crumbling tombstones, and zombies stalk the overgrown paths, hunting for the warmth of mortal blood. At its heart stands a massive, vine-covered crypt, its interior choked with melted candles, rotting coffins, and the echoing steps of something ancient… and headless.

Inside the crypt roams a figure lost to time—a headless man in funeral black, leaning on a twisted cane, driving a horse-drawn hearse for souls who can’t escape. But deeper still waits the true terror: a one-eyed wench with her name scratched from every grave, slaughtered by betrayal and now risen for revenge. She hunts every man who dares to enter, driven by rage that even death couldn’t bury.

“One ticket in. No one walks out.”

Once the crown jewel of midnight screenings and cult classics, Horror Wood Cinema now stands abandoned, its silver screens torn, its velvet seats soaked in silence—and blood. But something still lives inside. Behind the cracked marquee and broken film reels, the most infamous monsters in horror history have made this their final showing. Jason. Freddy. Michael. Ghostface. They’re not just on the screen anymore—they’ve brought their nightmares with them.

As you step into the rotting lobby, the walls begin to twist. Every theater door leads to their world. One minute you’re walking through Freddy’s boiler room, heat pulsing off the pipes. The next, you’re lost in the fog of Crystal Lake, Jason’s machete dragging nearby. You’ll creep through Michael Myers’ childhood home, and dodge Ghostface in a suburban kitchen. These are their homes. Their hunting grounds. And you are just another scene in their blood-drenched story.

Pirate’s Cove

“The sea doesn’t forget. And it never forgives.”

It begins with a black cave. Cold. Dripping. Alive. A group of treasure-hunters enters a jagged sea cavern hidden in the cliffs—following the last markings of a centuries-old map. Inside, silence suffocates. Bioluminescent fungi pulse like veins in the rock, and a towering waterfall crashes from the ceiling in a thick, inky stream that smells of blood and rot. Beneath it, bones lie half-buried in salt and silt. Those who walk under the water swear they hear voices whispering in a tongue no one speaks—beckoning, threatening… promising.

What waits beyond is far worse.

The fog lifts to reveal a decaying pirate town, eternally locked in a cannon-fire siege with a ghost ship that never sinks. Phantom screams echo from the alleyways. Flames burst from buildings without warning, only to vanish. Dead pirates stagger in loops, their rotted faces stitched in agony. Time does not move here. It hunts. Massive sharks circle the shallows, and the shadows of ancient sea beasts swirl beneath the docks. Nothing stays dead. And the deeper they go, the more the cove comes alive—hungry, cursed, and impossibly aware.

Voodoo Lagoon

“Her whispers curse. Her shadows hunt. Her lagoon never lets you leave.”

Deep in the swampy heart of the bayou lies the Voodoo Lagoon, thick with fog, soaked in rot, and ruled by the spirit queen herself — Calypso. With every step, the air grows heavier, the ground softer, the smell of death stronger. She watches from the black water, chanting ancient spells that twist your senses and summon her monstrous children from the dark — snakes, spiders, and gators, all hungry, all under her spell.

Vines creep along the walls of moss-covered shacks. Shadows move when no one’s near. Doors close behind you, sealing your fate as Calypso’s curse takes hold. Her demon servants crawl from tree hollows and rise from the swamp to track you through the dripping marsh. The deeper you go, the louder her laugh becomes — until it’s all you can hear.

“They dug too deep. And something dug back.”

High in the jagged spine of a forgotten mountain range, a crew of desperate miners begins work on a remote gold vein rumored to be cursed by the locals. Driven by greed and the promise of riches, they dig deep—deeper than any should—and break through into a hidden cavern sealed for centuries. What they unleash isn’t just ancient… it’s hungry. A hive-coven of dormant werewolves—mutated, monstrous hybrids—awaken in the shadows of the rock, their howls echoing like death rattles through the tunnels.

As the creatures shift from lurking hybrids to full-bodied, flesh-craving werewolves, the miners begin vanishing one by one. At the front of the cave, the others work on, unaware of the slaughter creeping closer. All they hear are distant, inhuman screams… and the scratching. Trapped underground, with light fading and tunnels collapsing, the miners must face the truth: there is no gold. Only blood.

“In the deep South, blood is thicker… and hungrier.”

Far beyond the backroads of rural Texas, where the heat warps the air and the silence feels wrong, there stands a rotting farmhouse that locals refuse to speak of. Inside lives a family—twisted by isolation, inbreeding, and a hunger no animal should feel. They don’t just kill for fun… they butcher for tradition. Armed with rusted chainsaws, meat hooks, and bone-crusted blades, they’ll chase you through their blood-soaked halls, laughing all the while.

Victims aren’t just murdered—they’re served. Carved up and tossed to their massive hogs, or worse, plated for dinner at the family’s twisted feasts. There’s no escape once you’ve stepped inside their domain—just screams swallowed by the sweltering Texas night. And when the pigs start squealing… it’s already too late.

“You can close your eyes… but you can’t shut off your mind.”

What starts as an experimental fear attraction turns into an inescapable nightmare. A group of thrill-seekers signs up for a cutting-edge immersive horror experience—designed to push the limits of human perception. But once inside, they find themselves trapped in a shifting realm where sound, smell, sight, touch, and taste aren’t just manipulated… they’re weaponized. Blinding white fog chokes the air. Sudden shocks surge through the floor. The walls breathe. Screams echo in voices that sound like their own.

Time becomes meaningless. Seconds stretch into hours. Each sense, once familiar, turns against them—hallucinations melt into reality, phantom touches crawl across their skin, and every breath smells of rot and burning flesh. There’s no way out. No light. No silence. Only the realization that this isn’t a simulation anymore… and something inside this place wants to keep them there forever.

“They called it treatment. The patients called it hell.”

Hidden deep in the woods, far from prying eyes, Brookhaven Asylum was once a psychiatric facility known for its brutal “experimental methods” during the 1940s. But what the world never learned was the true horror behind its walls—Nazi-affiliated doctors brought over after the war, conducting inhuman experiments on the mentally ill. Using forbidden science and twisted biology, they began altering the bodies of their patients, fusing bone with foreign tissue, reshaping limbs into weapons… and creating monsters.

What began as minor mutations turned grotesque: claws erupting from flesh, jaws widening into crab-like maws, skin hardening into a shell. The patients—once forgotten souls—became something else entirely. And when the final experiment failed, the asylum was sealed… but never truly silent. Now, decades later, Brookhaven’s ruins still breathe with life—mutated, violent, and ravenous. Anyone who enters doesn’t just risk death… they risk transformation.