Creepypasta of the Week: “NoEnd House”

locked doorPreviously: “The Strangest Security Tape I’ve Ever Seen.”

The house featured in “NoEnd House” reminds me a little bit of the Blackout haunted house that takes over New York (and apparently Los Angeles and Chicago now, too) every October. I’ve never been through it – something about (yuck factor alert) someone yanking out a bloody tampon and throwing it at me just doesn’t do it for me – but I do enjoy a good house-with-a-mystery tale. The payoff at the end of this one is pretty fantastic, so even though it’s a long read, it’s worth sticking with it ‘til the end.

If you’re not a big fan of the gross-out factor as a scare tactic either, though, allow me to recommend a different sort of experience: Escape the Room. It’s not scary, per se, but it’s certainly a mystery. 

Let me start by saying that Peter Terry was addicted to heroin.

We were friends in college and continued to be after I graduated. Notice that I said “I”. He dropped out after two years of barely cutting it. After I moved out of the dorms and into a small apartment, I didn’t see Peter as much. We would talk online every now and then (AIM was king in pre-Facebook years). There was a period where he wasn’t online for about five weeks straight. I wasn’t worried. He was a pretty notorious flake and drug addict, so I assumed he just stopped caring. Then one night I saw him log on. Before I could initiate a conversation, he sent me a message.

“David, man, we need to talk.”

That was when he told me about the NoEnd House. It got that name because no one had ever reached the final exit. The rules were pretty simple and cliche: reach the final room of the building and you win $500. There were nine rooms in all. The house was located outside the city, roughly four miles from my house. Apparently Peter had tried and failed. He was a heroin and who-knows-what-the-fuck addict, so I figured the drugs got the best of him and he wigged out at a paper ghost or something. He told me it would be too much for anyone. That it was unnatural.

I didn’t believe him. I told him I would check it out the next night and no matter how hard he tried to convince me otherwise, $500 sounded too good to be true. I had to go. I set out the following night.

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Haunted Road Trip: The Lemp Mansion and Brewery

Lemp brewery

Previously: The Portland Underground and the Shanghai Tunnels.

The history of the Lemp family is one of those things I usually file under “So Weird, You Can’t Make It Up.” Once one of the most popular brewers in pre-Prohibition St. Louis, they rocketed to wealth and success before plummeting dramatically back to earth, dogged by a serious of most unfortunate events as they went. Their mansion and the remains of their brewery still stand today, and if I ever make it out to Missouri, you can bet they’re on my list of places to go. Here’s the story:

The William J. Lemp Brewing Company saw its humble beginnings in 1836, the year German-born Johann Adam Lemp immigrated to the United States. By 1838 he had settled in St. Louis, intending to make his fortune as a grocer; he quickly realized, however, that his grocery had become known more for its home-brewed German lager than for its produce or other sundries. Accordingly, he closed the grocery down in 1840, opening a brewery and saloon he called the Western Brewery in its stead. Later that year, he moved the brewery to a large complex in south St. Louis and began training his son, William J. Lemp, to take over the family business. When the father passed away in 1862, the son took over the company, moving it once again to a new address at 3500 Lemp Avenue. The new property harnessed the power of a series of natural caves that run beneath St. Louis; they both functioned as an excellent source of refrigeration as well as a way to connect the brewery directly with the Lemp family’s mansion at 332 Demenil Place.

Under William J. Lemp’s direction, the Western Brewery became one of the largest breweris in the country. Among the many innovations he put into practice were the brewing and bottling of beer in the same facility (hitherto an unthought-of idea), the installation of the first refrigeration machine in an American brewery, and the creation of refrigerated railway cars to allow the shipping of beer across the country. In 1892, the Western Brewery became the William J. Lemp Brewing Company—a powerhouse among American brewers.

Here, of course, is where it all started to go downhill. William Sr. had been grooming his second youngest son, Frederick, to take control of the brewery once he was gone—but on December 12, 1901, Frederick died extremely unexpectedly of heart failure. The family had no idea that Frederick, only 18 years old, had any health issues; as such, it hit them all hard, though none harder than William Sr. He drifted into a steady decline over the next few years, finally committing suicide in the family home by gunshot on the morning of February 13, 1904.

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Encyclopaedia of the Impossible: The House on Ash Tree Lane

The House on Ash Tree LanePreviously: The Slender Man.

Type: UB (Unknowable Building)

Period/location of origin: Subject is located in the southeast Virginia countryside, somewhere in the vicinity of Richmond. It is unclear when subject may have been built; although real estate records date the house to 1720, a journal found in the library of Lord De la Warr circa the founding of the Jamestown colony indicates that the property and its extraordinary characteristics have existed at least since 1610 (see: The Journal of Lord De la Warr, entry dated 23 January, 1610: “Ftaires! We haue found ftaires!”).

Appearance: Subject appears to be an old-style heritage “house.” Unremarkable from the outside, it consists of two stories; among its rooms are a living room, a dining room, a kitchen, a study, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. It has a lengthy driveway and a sizeable backyard. Due to its questionable suitability as an actual dwelling, the term “house”—with quotation marks—is preferable when referring to subject as the object it resembles.

Modus operandi: Subject will at first appear to be the perfect home for a family of four. After a period of time, a closet with a plain, white door and a glass knob will appear in the master bedroom; residents will attribute the closet’s sudden arrival with simply failing to notice it in the first place. After the appearance of the closet, it will become apparent that the measurements of the interior of the “house” exceed those of the exterior by one-quarter of an inch. No known measurement technique will reconcile this discrepancy.

Shortly thereafter, a dark, doorless hallway will appear in the west wall of subject’s living room. This hallway will vary in length; at its shallowest, it will appear as a closet-like space only a few feet deep. No expedition into the hallway has successfully determined how far it goes at its longest. Its walls are an ashy charcoal color, and the absence of light within is complete. Arctic temperatures cause breath expelled within the hallway to freeze immediately.

Exploration of the hallway has discovered, among other features, additional hallways branching off of the main one, arched doorways, and a large room commonly referred to as the Great Room. Straying too far away from the walls of the Great Room renders it nearly impossible to retain a sense of direction. At any given time, the Great Room may or may not contain a massive Spiral Staircase in its center. The Staircase may extend downwards such that it requires several days of travel before reaching the bottom; or, it may stretch only a few hundred feet. Sufficient exploration will reveal that subject’s dimensions and spatial arrangement may change or adjust suddenly and without warning.

Cellular telephones and two-radios do not function within the hallway or its environs; neither do compasses or other mapping devices.

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‘Spook Train’: Because Claymation Horror Is Way Better Than Regular Horror

Seriously, you guys. Does this not look amazing? Spook Train comes from the mind of Lee Hardcastle, the director of the “T is for Toilet” segment of The ABCs of Death. From what I can tell, this one is another anthology film; 10 different rooms give us 10 different stories, with the kids riding the titular Spook Train ride tying the whole thing together.

Claymation horror is definitely an untapped medium, but I think it’s a stroke of genius waiting to happen. Remember way back before CGI when horror films had to do everything the old fashioned, practical way? This kind of reminds me of that. Evil Dead II is what immediately comes to mind for me – specifically the dancing, headless corpse scene – but take your pick from any of the other classics. Or ParaNorman. That works, too.

Hardcastle is Kickstarting the project right now, so if it floats your metaphorical boat as much as it does mine, head on over and contribute. Because really: Who doesn’t want to see a clay zombie get torn apart by a clay shell from a clay shotgun fired by a badass clay dude?

[Via Topless Robot]

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