The Screaming Tunnel – Places as Characters
This year the husband and I found ourselves spending a few days in Niagara on the Lake around Christmas. The weather was so unseasonably gorgeous that we ended up at Niagara Falls.
Typically in late December, you would see walls of ice building up around the falls. You would also typically want to look at them through a window. While sipping hot chocolate. In front of a blazing fire.
Instead, we were greeted by a rainbow spanning the width of the river. The sun felt so warm I gleefully unzipped my winter jacket like a true Canadian rebel. It was gorgeous and strange all at the same time.
It didn’t take long for the novelty to wear off though. Most stores and restaurants were closed for the season and one can only gaze at the falls for so long before the bathroom is urgently needed.
We debated what to do next when the husband (through the magic of Google) stumbled upon something interesting: The Screaming Tunnel.
Isn’t it a wonderfully horrifying name? Hearing it for the first time sent shivers down my spine! (Please note: this writer spooks pretty darn easily).
I knew we had to check it out.
The Screaming Tunnel is 125 feet in length and was built in the 1900s as a way to drain water away from farmland. Running right above it are tracks for the Canadian National Railway.
When we arrived, I questioned whether or not I would have the guts to approach the tunnel at night. I mean, It’s the perfect setting for a dare. A group of teenagers could easily test, tease or bully a fellow classmate into finding their way through the pitch black, all the way to the other side.
Then the husband took this picture.
Yes, yes. I know that’s me standing there, but again, I couldn’t help but see something a little more paranormal.
I love the sharp dagger of sunlight. It cuts into the shadows but isn’t strong enough to reveal the figure on the other side. A figure who doesn’t want to be seen.
It added an even sinister element to my vision of the typical teenage dare.
Imagine walking through the tunnel. One hand trembling against the wall as you slowly shuffle your way through the dark.
When you reach the other side, you can’t help but wonder why you were so afraid. You smile, feeling pretty damn proud of yourself.
“I’ve made it,” you call out. “I’ve-“
A light touch against your cheek makes the rest of the words catch in your throat.
The fingertips trail down the side of your face. Towards your neck.
You can hear your friends shouting behind you. “Are you alright? What’s going on? Stop fooling around!”
A hand clamps down over yours. Warm breath tickles your ear . . .
Well. It paints quite the picture, don’t you think?
In any case, after successfully creeping myself out, we drove back home for a family dinner. I for one, was glad that the sun was the only thing that followed us.
Curious to know why it’s called The Screaming Tunnel? Check it out the legend and lore here and here BUT proceed with caution! The tale isn’t for the faint of heart. (Seriously, it’s pretty gruesome.)
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