Nothing says Halloween like a trek through a haunted house. I’ve been to dozens of them and have yet to encounter a paranormal event that meets my standards. My most recent trip proved no different. Several folks had recommended that I should check out the “Angie” hotel located in an unknown part of Dorchester. Most people have come to know it as the last house on the far right.
Like any paranormal investigator, I took the time to look up the history behind the old structure. The things I uncovered in my research was enough to make Satan blush. There had been murders, suicides, and cases of nasty rashes and athlete’s foot. I was disappointed to find out the hotel had been closed down for only 30 years. A really good haunted hotel would be closed for 50 years at least. Oh well, it was up to me to head out and rate this locations haunted level.
The governor’s office granted me permission to spend a night at the hotel. I made sure to pack all the essential equipment I would need for this daunting task: Infrared goggles, thermometers, microphones, cameras, some Vaseline, and a special bluray edition of the show “The Walking Dead.”
The hotel was a large, dizzying maze. Most of the furniture was still intact despite the hotel being empty for about three decades. Most of the walls were scarred from a fire that consumed much of the area.
Three hours into my stay, I began to hear the sounds of a woman crying. I was laying in bed within one of the many bedrooms of the hotel. The crying got annoying very quickly. I yelled for the weeping damsel to shut up, so I could get some sleep. I’d probably rate this incident one Boo out of five.
Most of the other incidents turned out to be just as disappointing. Though I failed in finding the Made in China label, the skeletons I discovered in one of the closets were not scary enough for me. From time to time, a demonic face would appear in one of the windows. It’ll take more than a peeping tom to make my teeth rattle. Each of these scored a miserable one out of five Boos.
The night was almost over. I was determined to at least find one thing that could scare me pale. There’s a good reason why this haunted hotel was known as the “Angie” hotel. At one point in the hotel’s history, a mother and father went insane. They killed their 8-year-old daughter and dragged her unconscious body to the kitchen in the east wing. They proceeded to cannibalize their child, and I use to think my parents putting me in timeout was bad. Yeesh!
Like any sane, logical human being, I took a trip to the kitchen where the grisly act took place. There was a significant change in temperature. Chills crawled up and down my spine. I could actually see my own breath. There was a rancid stench in the air that smelled like rotten meat and cabbage. I started to pick up thermal heat on my camera. The fully charged battery died in less than 10 minutes. The kitchen became colder. A sharp moan echoed through the area. Then I saw her… I saw Angie.
Unfortunately, I was not impressed in the least. Most of the chills I felt was nothing a little of aloe vera couldn’t fix. I’d probably give this scenario two boos out of five. I guess the stories I’ve heard were just overblown. I expected far more from this place. It seems ghosts these days lack the necessary motivation to deliver high-quality frights. The slender man that kept mysteriously popping up behind me the rest of the night wasn’t making the haunting any scarier. Anyway, I’m off to do more horrifying things, like rearranging my underwear drawer.