This thread is for unusual cinema experiences. Please do not hesitate to share.
>go to local cinema to watch Angry Bird
>step inside the lobby as the smell of burning hair and meat hits my nostrils
>usher takes out a knife and slices open my palm after I buy my ticket
>another employee leads me to my seat as I try to keep the blood from spilling everywhere
>endless hallways, an empty seat appearing every minute or so
>it is getting darker and darker. the floor slopes downward. the employee is crying, silently
>"here's your seat, sir"
>I down sit quietly on my stool as she recedes into the inky black
>silence but for her diminishing sobs and maybe a faint drilling(?) through the wall
>ten minutes later another small woman walks into the room. she looks very sick
>she tells me that I'm in her seat
>I show her my ticket and bloody hand
>her face crumbles inward, becoming something pale and wormlike
>I run back through the hallway. going back the way I came yet it still slopes downward. farther down
>the drilling sound is growing louder
didn't even get a refund
>>69899703
That's straight Lovecraft shit right there nigga
I'm impressed.
I was taken to the cinema gas chambers once
I survived miraculously, but the gas was real
It was real for me
I have a rather similar moviegoing experience
>Accompanying my sister to Get Hard
>the glass doors leading into the cinema have been replaced with towering wooden double doors the kind that belong on the entrance of a Gothic castle
>they're locked
>I try to alert the ticket-seller, but the booth is empty.
>*BOOM BOOM BOOM*
>My sister has taken the lion-shaped knocker and rapped on the heavy doors
>they open with a yawning creak
>an unsettling song, like a dusty recording of carnival music, floats through the passage
>an ominous presentiment settles in my bones as I creep through the opening
>As I stand wondering at the pall of darkness shrouding the usually bright lobby the door closes behind us
>my sister takes off ahead seemingly unperturbed by the unnatural darkness
>I yell at her to wait but she disappears into the shade
>I hurry towards the only source of light in the entire building, the dull & sullen glow of the concessions area, devoid of any customers, in the hope of finding help
>I stammer an explanation to the lone employee at the counter
>he makes no movement, not even a twitch in his face.
>squinting through the darkness I realize he's only a cardboard cut-out of a theater employee
>startled, I take a step back & stumble over something
>Where moments ago there was nothing now a line of cardboard customers stand behind me wearing impatient scowls
>they've formed a queue that stretches so long I can't see the end of it
>panic swells inside me and I take off in the direction my sister rushed
>a light at the end of a corridor
>I run for a what must have been at least 2 miles, you say it is impossible but I know it is true.
>I make out the dim glow of an EXIT sign
>I rush through the doors to see my sister waiting & I spring to lift her off her feet in inexpressible relief
>My hands rush through air where her back should be
I still have her here in my room. The cardboard cut-out of my little sister.
>>69900066
Post your sister's nudes
>taking my little bro to see Alvin & The Chipmunks: The Roadchip
>our showing was theater #9 the last door at the end of the corridor
>the first sign something was amiss was the strange light that floated out like a vapor from the bottom of the door
>my first step through the passage was like penetrating an invisible film that hung in the doorway
>instead of a dark theater we found ourselves outside standing on a country road
>on a wooden sign in the shape of an arrow was written "#9 this way" and pointed down the road
>we turned back around but the door we came in from was gone & where it had been there was only endless road behind us
>we figured the best course was to follow the road to reach theater 9
>the trees lining this road were unlike any I had seen before. The color of the leaves was always in flux and they seemed to crawl from branch to branch, from tree to tree, in constant motion that produced a piercing headache
>despite this constant motion the air was deadly still and the sun that hung in the air gave off no light, as could properly be called, but only a dull glow as if its rays were polarized
>The sun itself was black as if its central fire were extinguished.
>A rider galloped past us on the road, wearing clothes that belonged to a bygone century. He took no notice of us
>How much time had passed on the road for us was impossible to tell. The sun did not move across the sky
>after a while my brother's crying was replaced by a catatonic silence
>The only sign of progress were the wooden posts that taunted us "#9 this way" "#9 ahead" etc...
>after what must have been several days we could see the end of the road
>it ended at the foot of an enormous tree that stretched so high we couldn't see its top
>the base of the tree was circled by evenly spaced holes
>as I craned my head to peer inside one I was pushed from behind into the pit as I fell I saw the rider peering down, my brother smiling at his side
>"That's number 9"
>go to see Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs 6
>buy my canned ticket
>walk to concession stand and take off my 10 gallon hat
>hand it over to the popcorn madam
>"fill her up"
>she scoops it into the pile and hands it back
>"will that be all?"
>I order a cubic meter of crab fingers in a giant crystal martini glass
>walk over to the stub ripper
>I hand over my can but he hands it back and asks "what am I supposed to do with this?"
>I rifle through my pockets for a can opener but I left it at home
>all I have are my keys so I try to open the can with that
>I manage to pierce a hole but I drop my crab glass in the struggle
>glass and crab dance across the floor in slow motion
>my head is swimming and I tip backwards
>I let go of the can and it hangs in the air as time slows down
>just before I hit the floor I see the can has a built in tab to tear off
>I crash to the floor and grab madly for the can, and tear it open to reveal my ticket
>I show the ticket to the man who folds it into an origami frog, which hops off the ticket ripper's lectern in the direction of the showers
>I try to follow but my legs have turned into sheets of corrugated iron
>I open my mouth to scream, but light shoots out instead of sound
>I look around but my eyes have turned into wheels
>the wheels on the bus go round and round
>my thoughts turn into brightly coloured ribbons which fly out of my exhaust pipe, float through the air and wrap themselves around the mouths of PoC and suffocate them
The movie was average
>the first thing I noticed was the wind
>the air was still outside
>inside the cinema there was gusts, strong enough to blow the hat off my head
>the wind grew stronger down the corridor to the theater
>it blew so hard down the final stretch that it could have knocked a lifted a smaller man clean off his feet
>it took all my strength to open the theater door and squeeze myself in
>as soon as I was inside I was immediately hurried into my seat by newcomers who bustled me on, not one of whom had a hair out of place as if the wind had not touched them
>I located my designated seat was alone in the center of a gated off ring
>the gate greedily accepted my ticket and admitted me into the circle
>the house lights traced their way down balconies, occupied by a marble audience, down to me
>the shadow on the screen leaped from his perch and crept to the marble lectern
>it spoke.
>it introduced me to the undulating audience who crowded around my ringed stage
>its voice was a multitude of tones, its pitch and cadence varied from syllable to syllable
>it sounded like everyone I ever knew at once
>the shadow fixed my gaze so that my eyelids could not hide my eyes
>the projectors were lowered by mechanical meals and positioned so that they could be aimed directly at my sockets
>the projectors emitted concentrated visions which induced in me feelings beyond terror for which there exist no word on this earth
>the rest of the feature was screened on my sclera for their viewing pleasure
i dont believe any of these storeies
i dont read any of these storeies
>>69904075
I read your every post. Oh yes I do I do
