top of page
Writer's picture13days13shorts

pt 1: Hallow Manor by Omar Najam

Updated: Oct 24

In which guests board the tram and approach the dilapidated Hallow Manor, peering beyond the brick exterior to discover its secrets.


Hello all, 


This year I’ll be, over the span of the next thirteen days, describing a Halloween-themed amusement park that I got to develop with Surena Marie, for fun, specifically for 13 Days.

As a big old imagineering nerd, this is a dream project and I’m so excited to share it with you all. Please excuse the shoddy sketches that accompany the overly written descriptions.


Enjoy.



Image by Jarko from Pixabay


Much is said about Hallow Manor, but so little is truly known. The estate itself was built in the 20s, but even before that, mystery clung to the land like the low lying mists in the early morning. Wanderers who crossed over the rolling hills would return, or emerge elsewhere, with wondrous and unbelievable tales. And yet, despite all these various tellings and retellings in various languages and perspectives, certain commonalities emerged. Indescribable beasts, lanterns that danced upon their own, shapes in the night, and a distant castle just out of reach. Many visited the land, but none stayed until the foundation of Hallow Manor was set by the intrepid adventurer and author Madeleine Gossamer. 


A storied traveler herself, Ms. Gossamer set out to build a home, her first and only, as she prided herself on always being on the move, setting out for the next exciting wonder, within the hills of such an intriguing location. The building itself was kept almost exclusively in secret, the blueprints and designs having been lost to time, if they existed at all, and there is no record of visitors or guests ever being invited to the estate. 


It’s unclear what happened to Ms. Gossamer. Whether she resided in the manor until the end of her days or left before the first set of bricks were laid is the subject of some historical argument. No one knows. One day she decided to build a house, and then some days later she simply wasn’t there. And while the estate fell to near ruin with vines creeping about its red brick exterior, the instructions Ms. Gossamer left were iron clad and have been observed strictly ever since: the manor is to never be destroyed, inherited or lived in by anyone but herself. The land is to be preserved at all costs and while intrepid wanderers are invited, they are advised to never build or destroy any element of the manor, the landscape or the stories they might encounter. 


And intrepid wanderers have since visited the manor. Much like before the estate was ever built, employers of curiosity have brought themselves to and through the house. All have returned unscathed, but burdened with a secret. Everyone who visits the manor returns with a special knowledge: they know why this house was built, why Ms. Gossamer used her fortune to protect and preserve the landscape, and why it must be respected. 


So now you, special guest, get to find out for yourselves what lies within the manor, what lies beyond the bricks of the estate, what wonder has attracted and continues to attract visitors. Perhaps you’ll come back changed. And also perhaps you’ll find out what ever became of Madeline Gossamer and what are of the stories so many have come away with. 


A reading of this excerpt plays over the speakers of a ramshackle tram that picks up visitors from the parking lot and moves them past modern concrete towards a tunnel trellis of flowers and creeping vines. Weather and light change from the world guests are familiar with to the moody grey of a late autumn afternoon as the tram emerges from the trellis into a grassy and misty field, wedged between two large spreads of gnarled forest. And between the slices of forest sits the manor. Tall, imposing in its build, but oddly friendly and inviting, at least it must have been at some point. Nature has taken over, as it’s covered in greenery and moss. The windows are frosted over and all the copper and bronze accents have turned patina. 


As the tram shambles over the grassy misty field, guests realize they are not going to enter the manor through the door but instead through a large fissure in the brick wall. The tram starts to speed up and it seems as though guests will be bursting through the front wall into a living room or foyer, but instead, as the tram enters the fissure— the bricks stretch and arch, forming an odd tunnel. There’s breaks in the ceiling of the archway where guests can look up and realize the front of the manor was merely a facade. The rest of the house was never built. 


If the manor is just an illusion, then where are we going?


The gaps in the ceiling close up as the tram begins to plummet downwards, into the ground on a steady decline, down and down and down, as eyes blink in the darkness and creatures scurry about. Music plays in the distance as a pinprick of light becomes bigger and bigger and bigger until—


Guests emerge into a cobbled together train station of sorts, the tram coming to a stop around bales of hay and wood signs welcoming them. Above the sky is autumn grey, making the yellow of the hay pop vividly. 


Human-sized cats and bats, walking on their hind legs, cartoonish in their design with kind eyes and happy smiles, welcome the guests and assist them off of the tram. 


And as shoes and wheels crunch against the dry leaves that carpet the ground, it becomes apparent. You’ve left the world you knew. You’ve left the time you knew. 


You’re now in Halloween. 

21 views1 comment

Recent Posts

See All

1 Comment


hil hoover
hil hoover
Oct 21

Okay, look.... you said "develop with Surena Marie" and I screamed aloud. Okay? I'm a dork. But like... also? This. This is freaking awesome. I think my favorite part is the description of what should be the front wall turning into a tunnel, revealing that the manor was never built? It was so fun. I don't actually see things in my head, but I feel like this gave me so much lovely detail and sensory experience that I still felt like I was THERE.

Like
bottom of page