I’m not what you’d call a haunted house veteran. When I was seven, I went to a disastrous HallowZOOeen where, dressed in a mermaid costume, I alternated between closing my eyes and being very polite to the performers so they wouldn’t smell my fear. My mermaid tail fell off, and I had to go back through the haunted house to find it, which effectively put me off haunted houses forever. In high school, the only one I knew of was The Nightmare at GUTS Church. And even at my tender age, the ethics of its abortion room seemed questionable. (It closed for good during the pandemic. Rest in piss.)
All that to say, since that ill-fated HallowZOOeen episode, it’s been 22 years since I stepped foot in a haunted house, but this year, I felt ready to try again, this time at the Castle of Muskogee’s Halloween Festival. And while we might be done with Halloween for the year, this fest isn’t done with me.
I’ll admit, my expectations weren’t high. I love the Castle’s ren faire, but part of loving ren faire is acknowledging that it’s low-key shitty. Like you go to watch the jousting for 20 minutes, have people accost you in bad British accents, admire the hawks, and spend most of your time browsing through overpriced shops. You also are usually sweating so much that it makes everything even less exciting.
The moon was nearly full and hidden behind a spooky haze as my friends and I drove to Muskogee. I had my Fright Combo purchased, and I had set my intention: to go through four of what the festival describes as its “most intense scare experiences, designed to push your fear limits.” I was picturing Spirit Halloween meets the Middle Ages with some actors jumping out when I was coming around the corner.
During the drive, my friends discussed what would actually scare them in a haunted house, including “Pigman and a room full of meat hanging on hooks” and “walking up stairs with an alligator behind me.” Against the odds, these visions turned out to be foreshadowing.
My first impressions of the fest were mixed. The parking was actually pretty painless, and I did love all the lights and decor. I also felt like a celebrity because my friends had pitch-perfect Dungeon Crawler Carl costumes, and three people stopped us to ask for pictures. In the park proper, however, they were blasting a bizarre playlist featuring Backstreet Boys and “Mambo No. 5,” and the friends we were meeting up with reported they’d been waiting in line for an hour. The online map had all AI-generated images for the attractions, which put a bad taste in my mouth.
Despite the mixed vibes, it was hard to be actually mad because it was like 68 degrees, and I can never be truly grumpy in perfect weather. If ren faire took place earlier in the spring, my tolerance for overpriced leather goods would automatically be higher (organizers, take note).
Warned by our friends about the insane lines for the attractions in the castle, we stumbled on the first haunted house by chance. Because it was more tucked away, the line for Jester’s Revenge was reasonable, and the painted sign over the entrance was the first indication of the amount of love, energy, and craftsmanship that went into these “scare experiences.” The attendant gave us 3D glasses and the spiel—our monsters will not touch you; do not touch them—and sent us into a hallway with a spinning spiral illusion so convincing that I had to hold on to the rails to stay upright.
I understood immediately why they had to tell us not to touch the monsters because by the third jump scare I was about to throw hands. Every turn had a new scene: clown massacres, clowns in cages, clowns jumping out of the lockers all painted with lurid colors that themselves jumped out with the 3D glasses. There was a life-size clown animatronic hanging from the ceiling that writhed and laughed and would be with me emotionally for a while. The 3D glasses were a stroke of genius, because they really made it a psychedelic nightmare.
On the Castle’s website, Jester’s Revenge is rated 5/5 Pumpkins for “scare factor.” It was more disorienting than outright frightening, and while I yelped a few times, I released no outright screams. My ultimate takeaway was that I was impressed. And at that point, I had to admit: Castle in Muskogee, I was unfamiliar with your game.
Jester's Revenge: 4.5/5
The next scare experience, Trail of Blood, involved a jostling bus ride to the actual event. The theme was Voodoo Bayou, and it was all out of doors, sort of a combined haunted house and nature hike.
While this one is rated 5/5 Pumpkins by Castle management, it didn’t get me as much as the Jester’s Revenge, but that was not the case for my friends. It was here that we entered a room full of hanging meat and, within it, “Pigman” himself. My friend covered her eyes and had to be physically escorted from the room. When we finally escaped him and rounded the corner to see a “Beware of alligators” sign in front of some stairs, it started to feel like a bit. Let this be a lesson never to make fun of your friends’ fears, no matter how seemingly esoteric they are.
Trail of Blood: 4/5 Pumpkins for me, but 5/5 Pumpkins for Pigman
For the next two experiences, we had to bite the bullet and buy fast passes, or we would have been in line for two hours minimum. Casa Morte takes place in the Castle itself and, for my money, it was easily the most frightening of the bunch. After we skipped the line of poors with our fast passes, we entered the atrium. The theme for this attraction was medical horror, though the website classifies it as a “house ... built to contain the dead,” which is just beyond vague. Poor description aside, this was the only haunted house that made me outright shriek because I do not like being chased. At one point, someone who must have been wearing all black whispered in my ear, and I yipped like a hurt dog. Absolutely would play a game with Annabelle again.
Casa Morte: 4/5 Pumpkins online, 10/5 in my heart, because I left that place at a dead sprint.
The final experience was Domus Horrificus, which was an ode to classic horror films. This is the one that sticks out to me the least, but it was probably the most classic haunted house of the four, featuring the Ring girl, Frankenstein, and plenty of other generic horror movie staples, with the quality animatronics I’d grown to expect.
Domus Horrificus: 5/5 Pumpkins officially and 3.5/5 personally. Take that with a grain of salt, though, because I’d used up all my adrenaline.
All together, I was delighted. The quality of the experience was closer to something from Silver Dollar City than I ever would have expected from the Castle in Muskogee. I know that’s a backhanded compliment, but I just can’t help it.
I want to give a shout-out to all the performers and workers at the festival. From costumes to affect, they were so bought into the whole experience that it made it all that much more immersive. Their timing was good, too. Often, they would wait until the obvious moment for a jump scare had passed and then go for the kill. Special cheers to the person wearing a full-body mesh suit with their arms hidden, who jumped up using only their legs. Drop the workout routine, please. By the time we went through the last haunted house, it was almost midnight, and the performers were still giving it their all.
Shops-wise, we didn’t have time to explore too much, but there was a nice costume shop for last-minute masks, and I also highly enjoyed the shop for Adorable Arsenal, which had handcrafted miniatures with personalized backstories and art—a nice contrast to the AI content that plagues so many fairs now.
If you’re taking notes for next year, buyer beware. The ticket to get into the park is a measly $5, and it’s waived if you buy a ticket to any attraction. But if you’re there for the scares, beyond a forest of Halloween blow-ups and some shows, there’s not much of that behind the paywall.
I purchased the Fright Combo, which included access to four of the haunted houses for $55. Unfortunately, with the lines, there was no way I would have been able to see them all without purchasing two fast passes for an additional $10 per ride. The VIP Fright Combo went for $95. If you purchased food or drinks, that was easily another $20. All in all, not the cheapest thrill, though à la carte pricing makes it more doable.
If you’re made of stone and not even the best jump scare can get you, I can’t speak to whether or not these would have, because I am not a stoic. What I can say is that it's hard not to appreciate the craft, care, and energy that very clearly went into every step of the process. The haunted houses were thematically distinct, with enough variety that if you’re immune to one kind of scare, there's a different one around the corner. Of my two experiences with haunted houses, this one kicked the pants off HallowZOOween in 2004.
