Date: Thu, 2 Apr 1998 09:51:05 -0800 (PST)
From: marina buhle (
Subject: My ghost story

I grew up in Las Vegas, where you really don’t hear about too many hauntings since the city is so new. Every once in a while, my friends and I would search out new places to hang out. One of my friends had discovered a concrete dwelling out in the desert. It had actually been a drainage system, mostly for water. It had three huge tunnels in it, that were perfect for walking through and were also quite long. Since most people tended to stay away from this area (due to Steve Wyns property being less than five miles away, if you live in Vegas, you understand) they decided that it would become our new hang out, and named it Happyland.

The atmosphere itself is a spooky one. It reminds me of the underground lair of the vamires in The Lost Boys. There is graffiti covering every inch of the walls. By the time I started going to our little parties, there were already rumors of Happyland being haunted. People could sense spirits, especially in the tunnels. After a while, we started to hear the stories that stemmed from the place. In the middle tunnel, where one spirit has been seen, three teens had been having a drinking fest. One of them had blacked out, and ended up dying from his own vomit. There has been rapes, beatings, and murder at Happyland.

I have had a few experiences while partying out there. I have only seen wisps of spirits myself. However, there are spots where I suddenly feel an overwhelming sense of horror. I feel so frightened that I usually freeze, and stay there like a scared rabbit until somebody shakes me out of it. There are also other spots where I feel such sadness it brings tears to my eyes. There is a huge amount of emotions dwelling in that place.

There has only been one time where I have been so terrified that I have wanted to leave and never come back. I always wore a large obelisk shaped malachite necklace. It was my protection crystal. I always had it on, always. One night, we decided to have a huge group meet at Happyland. It was a night like any other, just groups of us hanging out and catching up on each other’s lives. I was walking around with a few friends. We went through those spots that I had previously mentioned, but carried on normally. We decided to walk through the tunnels. We went throught the middle one, and nothing unusual happened, until I emerged from the tunnel and noticed that my thick malachite had literally cracked in half. At that point, I wanted to jet.

I hope I haven’t bored you. If your ever in Vegas and want to check out Happyland, send me an email and I’ll give you directions. Only, take my advice and don’t go alone.

Marina E. Buhle

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