Ah, the memories of childhood fun at the annual town carnival, where valuable life lessons were learned—chief among them, that funhouses, despite their name, are seldom fun and often more terrifying than enjoyable. In the heart of my town's park, I encountered a funhouse experience that still haunts my memories. This particular funhouse had an inexplicable aroma of bleach, an unsettling detail that added to the overall atmosphere of unease. To make matters worse, the floor was riddled with holes, some large enough to potentially trap an unwary foot. As if these elements weren't eerie enough, I distinctly recall glimpsing a mysterious figure peering up at us from beneath the floorboards.