It all seemed like an innocent bit of fun. In the early 2000s, Russ McKamey and his then wife Carol went on TV to explain that they were spending $30,000 to make Halloween at their home bigger and better than anyone else’s. Fans queued around the block of the quiet San Diego suburb to experience fake blood, spooky props and teenage actors giving them jump scares. Until, that is, things got much, much darker.
By 2012, participants were being waterboarded, chained up in boxes and almost buried alive after McKamey decided to make McKamey Manor a more extreme, kid-free zone. “I was seeing people come out shaking uncontrollably … one guy, it looked like his nose was broken; another burst a blood vessel in his eye – it was full of blood,” says Mercedes Ann, a certified lifeguard with basic first aid training who was there to deal with the fallout. “People would have psychotic breakdowns – that’s the only time they would stop the tour. Then they would bring me in to calm them down.” She was 15.
