After our first night with the AARP crowd, partying down in the posh hills of Rio, how could we top ourselves? Simple - by turning our night into the plot of a horror movie.
Close to 10pm, Leighton, (travel buddy and international raconteur) had a friend of his father's meet us in the lobby. He had never met her before.
As it happened, she brought along 3 friends, and they had all just arrived in Rio from Sao Paulo, where they live. Other than the fact that they showed up unannounced, everything seemed fairly normal. We went to dinner, where strangely, none of them ate, drank, or anything. Luckily, that didn't stop Leighton, Tom, and I from all ordering big steaks!
After dinner, we were all tired (us from the beer, them from the travel), so we where going to call it an early night. Trish, Leighton's father's friend, asked us to walk her back to the place they were staying. "No problem", we said, and we figured. Oh man, we were so wrong. Believe the next part of the story if you want to, it all actually happened.
As we walked through the dimly lit street in Copacabana, they told us they were staying at an apartment that one of the girls' sister's friend hooked them up with. It turns out that the owner was a family friend of sorts, and recently (very recently, we later found out) died. Yup, the old 'stayin at the dead guy's apartment' trick again. This was where the night began to turn into a scooby doo episode, but it gets better.
Nobody paid the electric bill in the apartment, and therefore, there was no power. That's why the girls wanted us to come up so bad, they were a little afraid about having no lights, and whether the place was securely locked down during the day. When we get to the building, a porter who looked shamelessly like Scatman Crothers (the porter from The Shining) greeted us in garbled Portugese. He told the girls the elevator wasn't working, so we took a back elevator, and couldn't break into the deadbolted door.
By force of habit, I pulled the door (which was automatic) to the elevator closed, and knocked it off the track. Now, all 6 of us where stuck in this tiny elevator. After a minor (completely major) freakout on the part of the girls, the porter freed us, and turned on the main elevator, which was off to save power. Duh. We tried to open one apartment with the same number as our hotel room, but it didn't work. We tried again across the hall, and we were in.
There was no light at all in the apartment. The girls rushed to light candles, and each one that went on illuminated another terribly frightening surprise. The first thing I noticed was the suffering head of Jesus on the mantle, which I took to be odd. Then, one of the girls touched it, which I strongly cautioned against. Next, I turned and saw a hand on the sidetable to the couch, with a RING on it. It was a wedding band. It was his, dead, wedding band. This is when it really gets bad.
We walk into the bedroom, and there are almost inaudible strange noises. Leighton tried to calm the girls by telling them it was a bird, but... yeah. I went into the bathroom, and behind the toilet where two of the most disturbing pictures of bloated faces I've ever seen. I actually couldn't pee I was so scared, so I ran out. I could just tell something wasn't right in the house.
Paitnings of screaming children. Paintings of dead bodies. A painting like the face in the exorcist movie, kind of skeletal, almost like a more disturbing version of Munsch's scream. In the center of the living room, there was (of course) a large wooden chest used as a coffee table.
Everyone knows you are not supposed to open the chest, even if you don't watch horror movies. Leighton, brilliantly, decides we should open the chest. As it creaked open, we saw... Pictionary. I breathed a sigh of relief, until Leighton exclaimed that there was a box below the pictionary game as well!
At this point, if it where a movie, it would be too far fetched to be reality. Tom was holding an Urn with a candle on top of it, that he had removed from the chest in order to open it. As Leyton pried open the secret box, at that exact moment, Tom's candle melted over and he dropped the urn. It cracked a little bit, and Leighton closed the box, without looking at what was inside. I saw it though, it was the dead man's love letters to his (presumably) dead wife.
This was about enough for us tough guys, and we bid farewell to the girls and ran out of the apartment down the stairs. The door was locked, and it was really tense for a moment, but the porter came and let us out, still mumbling in portugese. We were free.
Where those girls Vampires? What did that guy die of? Why did he have a horror movie looking house, complete with American classic books in English in a horror movie looking bookshelf. Why did Leighton insist on touching everything in there? Did Tom curse himself by breaking the evil urn? We may never know.
Now, back to the beach!
I do always feel a bit rushed when I post, because there is so much to say, and at times, such expensive internet access (specially in Rio)
The hand was one of those porcelian (spelling?) hands that one might set on an end-table, and put one´s wedding band on before performing some sort of occult self sacrifice in one´s apartment.
I think normal (?) people use these hand statue thingies to display lots of jewelry, or something. Not sure though, just not sure...
Still very scary. Leyton, travelster, took some pics of the place, and hopefully I can link them or put them up later.
Posted by: austino | January 04, 2005 at 07:30 AM
r e d r u m r e d r u m r e d r u m
Posted by: Hoop | January 02, 2005 at 02:59 PM
By the way, have a great time on New Years!
Subterranean all the way for the wicker park crew!!!
Posted by: rabbitsnake | December 31, 2004 at 07:45 PM
This story is creepy as hell, but what does this mean? A hand?
"Next, I turned and saw a hand on the sidetable to the couch, with a RING on it. It was a wedding band. It was his, dead, wedding band."
Watch out for the moon, you guys may have contracted lycanthrophy without your knowledge. The south american kind is the worst, because you are stuck sucking the blood out of goats. Or is that latin america?
Posted by: rabbitsnake | December 31, 2004 at 07:43 PM