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The Horrors Of The World Can Wait: I’m Inside A Haunted House

On spooky Halloween shit as "the bootcamp of the psyche"

12:06 PM CDT on October 16, 2025

photo by Mitch Gilliam

Masked men lurk in the shadows of America’s major cities this Halloween season, waiting to jump from corners and frighten adults and children alike with jump scares, terrifying costumes, and threats of damnation. Sadly, I’m not talking about Hex House, the Castle in Muskogee, or even extreme haunts like Blackout. I’m talking about the ICE invasion of American neighborhoods, schools, and workplaces at the behest of Donald Trump. 

Do Americans still crave fright-for-entertainment when real-life ghouls go bump in broad daylight?

Surprisingly, all signs point to yes. Horror movies have risen in popularity over the last decade, with the oft-maligned genre racking up award show accolades and an increasing share of the box office. Gen Z are becoming the Halloween Generation in their own right, with 21% of U.S. adults under 30 claiming the night as their favorite holiday, compared to only 12% of their over-30 ancestors. 

I wanted to see for myself whether Tulsa is in on this surge. I’ve been a horror movie and haunted attraction fanatic since Pre-K. My folks built us a haunted house when I was in first grade; hell, I helped run West Side Madness in 2021. Scary shit is what I love. But what’s it like out there these days in the haunted streets? 

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The hour-and-a–half wait to enter West Tulsa’s Hex House last Friday was testament to the terrifying truth that, indeed, we still love this shit, with plenty of Gen Z ghouls queued up to quiver.1  

While you wait, you’ll encounter a handful of actors interacting with the crowd to various degrees of success. A zombie with heelies and kneepads was living their best jumpscare life, while a guy with a hot dog on a stick and some sort of butterfly unicorn entity roamed the huddled masses and just kinda poked them or stared. A Pumpkinheaded figure on stilts stilted to excellent effect. 

After 90 minutes of groaning through the line and griping about every attempt at spooking me, the actual haunt blew me away. My tight grip on my partner’s hand let me know I was terrified in the first dark corridor: I might be an experienced fright-goer, but that doesn’t stop me from being a massive chicken. Jump scares and gory props abounded in The Experiment, the first of Hex’s three dungeon crawls, but it was the actors’ commitment and deft use of misdirection that kept my blood pumping and my disbelief suspended by reptilian-brained instinct. 

photo via Hex House