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Escape Artists

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Kent Conspiracists

Kent Conspiracists

Escape Artists

Exploring the phenomena of escape and puzzle rooms

WORDS BY Cameron Gorman

I’ll start by letting you know that under the Ohio Building Code, we weren’t actually allowed to be locked into the Western-themed escape room in downtown Kent.

If you haven’t heard of these attractions, well — they’re popping up everywhere, including college towns like Kent. Basically, you pay them to lock you into a room. There, you must uncover clues in order to break out of whatever dangerous situation you’ve found yourself in within the time limit. To be honest, as a fan of immersive experiences, they’re a dream.

But with that dream comes the nightmare. For every moment of light there is an equal balance of darkness, and in every escape room, there is family infighting and panic. For you see, if you can’t break out or get through certain puzzles, you may never know the answers. I must confess, with my personality — not knowing stuff never goes down smoothly.

The day of, my boyfriend Justin and I, along with true trooper and intrepid Burr photographer Tessa, arrive at Cracked Escape downtown, above Insomnia Cookies. Unfortunately, because of my luck (and through no fault of accomodating business co-owner Ann Marie Rotunda), the air conditioning to the entire building that houses the puzzle rooms is off. On the positive, this serves to make the Western setting of the room more realistic.

Now, this isn’t my first — rodeo — in an escape room (Yes, I know. I had to). But, standing beside Tessa and Justin, I feel a growing but familiar uncertainty in my stomach even as I place a 10 gallon hat on my head, and a vest across my chest. Even as a pre-recorded video of a cowboy describing our plight introduces us to the room, his tale of woe including a menacing villain by the name of Kent.

I suppose it is just the memories of previous panicked attempts at other escape rooms that bubble up.

I glance at Tessa and Justin, both donning festive cowboy hats. I feel warm under my vest.

Once we enter the room, however, natural teamwork between us begins to take hold. We pick around for a bit, unearthing odds and ends and clues. I wish I could reveal more about the puzzle room’s contents (beside the fact that it contained a full-scale bar and mounted sheep’s head), but that would be giving away too much of the story. Needless to say, the pressure was on. I stand at the bar, in front of the liquid-filled bottles, listening to Tessa and Justin discuss boots and lanterns.

As we work toward finding the key to unlock the door, however, I begin feeling tense. I begin to do what is expressly frowned upon by Justin’s game style: call out to the game runners for extra clues, immediately knocking us out of the running for the leaderboard.

Tessa and Justin, of course, are the driving forces, though I like to think I provide morale — or at least entertainment. As we get closer to the end, I ask (beg) for another clue. We only have 10 minutes left on the clock, and we are struggling! I ask again.

The smoke from the dynamite sticks grows thick as time ticks. The room is strewn with clues. The screen, which had been feeding us clues, does not give. Instead, what is typed is much simpler: 10 minutes is a lifetime.

Amazingly, despite my constant calling for clues, we eventually find the key with around six minutes to spare. Triumph is the right word as we pose in front of the Ghost Tavern’s facade, (sweaty vests and hats worn proudly).

I shake my head. The clues were sassy, but we did get out — and, in the immersiveness of the room’s atmosphere with no phones allowed, the hour certainly felt full.

CAMERON GORMAN | cgorman2@kent.edu

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