We let Marcus, Jon and Graeme away from their desks for five minutes and look what happens…
Off the beaten path, behind Waterloo station.
Down dark tunnels…
…and a left turn at Gregg’s
One balmy evening, Marcus Gipps, Jon Weir and I were to be cramming triangular sandwiches into our mouths, drinking deeply from bottles of Spitfire and rifling through vintage leaflets warning us of the twin horrors of chemical and biological attack. The sun was shining with a hint of grey cloud, cut to pieces by the camo netting above, the air filled with the haunted warblings of 1940s songstresses over a rusting PA system.
We weren’t the only ones, the tables around us filled to bursting with other young coves, all of us bent over our drinks, eyes flicking to the large ominous door that led into the bowels of Waterloo Bridge guarded by a single man in uniform, a rifle over one shoulder.
‘Alright, people, let’s go! Let’s go!’ The soldier burst, voice as spurring as any gunshot. Air raid sirens kicked in and the three of us were at the door, stubbing out cigarettes and draining the last of our beers. The moment we’d been waiting for. Wish.co.uk were hosting a launch event for their new zombie experience Zombie Blitz 1940 and we’d been invited. How could we have refused?
The doors were opened, we were hustled inside, bright sunlight replaced by dim fluorescent. Then it all got a bit hazy with excitement, terror and probably quite a lot of Spitfire. To say what actually happened would spoil things but what Wish had set up was a fantastic, terrifying zombie experience. We crawled through air ducts, deciphered clues, stepped cautiously over bodybags and spied on Nazi Scientists in their secret labs as they schemed to resurrect our English dead to drag the rest of us under. Safe to say that as we crept around we were wound up pretty tight.
We’re not sure if Wish meant for the zombies to escape the experiments (I think it might have been Marcus’ fault) but that’s what happened. That’s when the horror truly began and we ran for our lives, ducking decomposing claws, fetid breath on the back of our necks, until we burst gasping back out onto the street our ordeal over.
A few more Spitfires and we were all grinning like loons (pass the diazepam, please) discussing what we’d seen. Wish had properly got us in the mood with their vintage paraphernalia, wound us tight with some fantastic, interactive exposition and then kicked us off into an adrenalin-fuelled roller-coaster that reminded us that we don’t exercise nearly enough. The attention to the detail of the set-pieces, the acting, the special-effects and the make-up were all top-notch and you slipped into your role of scared tunnel-dweller all too easily.
Me and Marcus had a great time. We’re not sure what happened to Jon…
This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 6th, 2013 at 4:37 pm and is filed under Events, Horror. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.