Intrigued by the images of a candlelit, creepy costume ball, my friends and I got tickets for Halloween night. In our finest macabre attire, we trudged through the rain over wet red and brown leaves plastered to cobblestones, our heels clacking through puddles, to the historic Rainier Chapter House in Capitol Hill, a recreation of George Washington’s Mount Vernon.
Once inside, the writer in me couldn’t help but feel transported to a haunted Victorian party. A tall man who looked exactly like Gary Oldman’s Dracula, complete with the long hair, dark sunglasses, top hat and trench coat, walked by. A group of brides in gowns dripping with blood and rotting veils ascended the staircase. We got cocktails in the corner, and then participated in a mutual friend’s magic demonstration.
Upstairs, a burlesque performance acted out a witch burning on stage, complete with one dancer dressed as a raven. On the other side of a room, another dancer did a routine suspended in the air using a hanging hoop.
There were also spookier elements to the event. To the right of the main hall, we took our turn in the séance room, where we gathered with a group around a table littered in body parts, and a demonic fairy who resembled a goth Chappell Roan conjured a dark entity before urging us to flee the room before it was too late.