When I was a wee lad, the Haunted Mansion terrified me. I refused to ride. My parents would go through. My little sister would. But not me.
After several visits (we lived in FL at the time and had annual passes) they finally got me in the building, but I took the chicken exit. What happened out there is a story for another day
Finally they got me on the dang thing. I was terrified. Mortified. Scared out of my wits.
And then the ride stopped.
It stopped in front of the scariest room of all, the hallway with the candelabra floating eerily towards you. There's no fun music here, no 'happy haunts.' In this room, the spirits are maniacal. Desperate. They bang on the doors and beg to be let out, desperate to escape whatever dark forces have trapped them there. The sound of evil wind rushes through the room.
I was forever scarred by what felt like a two-hour stop in front of that hallway. Even today, as an adult who enjoys the attraction, I shiver when we maneuver past that room. I pray never to stop there again, for I know if I do the spirits will claim me and no longer will there be room for one more...