A corpse, hanging by the neck, spasms; a bloodied torso is crushed under a car; and a woman, wreathed in black, runs towards us with a knife.
Welcome to Halloween, Norfolk Island-style. Perhaps it's an accident of history: this place has a bloody past. Or maybe the people are just plain weird.
Either way this external territory, two-and-a-half-hours from the Australian mainland, is the creepiest spot on earth to celebrate Halloween. Now, after last night, you might never want to see a jack-o'-lantern again.
Years ago, we eschewed this event as too American. But we're back after discovering its roots are actually pagan, to mark the end of harvest in Celtic countries. Villagers used to throw stuff into bonfires, in a bid to predict the future. (That's easy: your stuff is going to burn. Seriously, I could be a fortune-teller…)
Pumpkin lanterns are the US version of the English tradition of carving turnips. (Hopefully not a, "turnip shaped exactly like a thingie", in the words of Baldrick from the TV series, Blackadder.)
Probably the top stop for Halloween in the United States is Salem, Massachusetts: More than 250,000 people come each year for Haunted Happenings, including The Texas Chainsaw Musical and Gallows Hill Museum.
The following day is Dia de los Muertos – Mexico's Day of the Dead – to remember family and friends who've passed on, by bringing their favourite food, drink and decorations to cemeteries.
We begin our Halloween in the cemetery on Norfolk Island, with graves dating back to the first settlement. The inscriptions speak of harsh conditions endured by convicts under one of Britain's most brutal penal colonies. Most were killed by violence, disease or the hangman's rope.
Led by a descendent of a Bounty mutineer, the scene is set for the spookiest Halloween ever. Here, residents try to outdo each other in the ghoulish stakes.
The first house we visit has standard issue cobwebs, flashing lights and glow-in-the-dark skeletons. A chorus of cackling seeps from the second, as I trip over a crawling severed hand.
And the third? Oh, my.
We walk cautiously up a long driveway towards a darkened shed. The oh-so-tough 10-year-old squeezes my hand. Suddenly there's a sound, like a creak.
We look up to see a dead body, wrapped in black plastic, hanging from a noose. It starts to jerk. I scream. And stumble over a blood-spattered torso. Some guy reaches out from behind a curtain to goose us.
At this stage, I'm wishing we'd worn brown underpants. Then, from nowhere, a woman dressed as a witch, brandishing a knife, screams towards us. We run like hell to the nearby police station, which is also a house of horrors.
Incredibly, there are kids as young as three, being haunted by headless bodies. But you know what? We're having the time of our lives. It's fun celebrating Halloween without the sugar rush.
Yes, there are lollies, but it's not the main event. Think of it as an historic Halloween.
Just make sure to do your pelvic floor exercises beforehand…
