This is eerie techno. Like the haunted house on the top of the hill reaching out of the foggy path leading up to it. But with mystic neon-glowing steroids that turned everyone into robot werewolf mutants inside. There are black-eyed floating children on the front porch wearing white nightgowns and staring at you without any blinks as you approach. You hear the techno’s faint thumping through the closed doors like you feel your heartbeat in your throat. The doorframe illuminates with flickering light from inside. And you reach for the doorknob.
