Get ready for a night at Fright Factory in South Philly

About 10 years ago, Charmaine Warrington ventured into the basement of a 120-year-old abandoned factory in South Philly. She found herself standing in a dark room armed with an old wheelchair, waiting for someone to come by.

When she heard footsteps turning the corner, the 52-year-old South Philly resident sprung forward, frightening the managers of the neighborhood haunted attraction.

“I went down the ramp [hiding] behind the wheelchair, where they couldn’t see me,” she recalled about the audition. “I just jumped into action and said something scary to them. They looked [scared] — I knew that they were interested in having me as a haunter.”

A theater usher and actor by day, Warrington moonlights as a “haunter” for Fright Factory, doing so each October for the past 10 years. She spends her weekend nights terrifying folks who dare to enter her decrepit bathroom haunt.

The goal is to “scare everybody I can as often as I can.”

Dressed in a white dress splattered with bloodlike streaks and decked out in artfully demonic makeup, Warrington roams her designated domain, waiting for the right moment to cackle, scream, and jump out. She likes to keep things interesting, switching up her character’s dialogue and hiding spots throughout the night, adapting for each group that comes near.

“I’ll crawl on the floor, or sometimes I’ll just stand like a statue as people walk by,” she said. “And there are times I’m just chasing people. You work with the time you have with each group that comes in and also how fast they come in.”

Warrington, whose acting career began at Society Hill Playhouse while she was in college, draws inspiration from psychological horror films like Trilogy of Terror, Dracula, and Frankenstein. She takes notes on the characters’ body language, expressions, movements, and other elements.

It’s all about the screams and the chase for Warrington.

Whether she’s cackling loudly as she runs or flinging water with her prop toilet bowl brush, coming up with new ways to spook people helps her stretch her acting skills.

“There’s a thrill with the people you confront and chase when they get scared,” she said. “Sometimes you don’t know what you’re going to say and you work within that minute.”

For a behind-the-scenes look at the Fright Factory, The Inquirer spent the night getting ready with Warrington for an evening of haunting.

All seems quiet on a Friday night outside the brick building that houses the attraction on South Swanson Street.

But inside, the dressing room is bustling with about 40 haunters running around in makeup and costume. Some performers adjust their costumes as others get their makeup done. A ghost and clown chat excitedly about the night ahead.

In a white lace gown subtly detailed in a skeleton-like design on the corset and a white chain wrapped around her waist, Warrington sits in a chair, ready for makeup artist Nicolette Procopio to transform her into the character she created, “Washa Scourton.”

Procopio begins with a white base on Warrington’s face and neck, adding black eye shadow on her eyelids and under her eyes. She adds streaks of black face paint that stretch from Warrington’s eyes to her cheeks and up above her eyebrows, creating an almost demonic look. Procopio dabs the black paint on the lips and a bit of red to the edges of her forehead. Using gloved fingers, the makeup artist flicks red-dyed corn syrup to add splatters of “blood” on Warrington’s arms, face, neck, and dress. “As It Was” and “Everlasting Love” play in the background.

With a pipette, Procopio drips the red liquid all over Warrington for a final touch.

Warrington walks around clowns with menacing smiles, ghosts with blackened eyes and ripped skin, and other characters. She fills her water bottle and puts cough drops and a walkie-talkie in her bag.

“We take a cough drop or two ahead of time, and then I usually drink water in between to keep my voice going,” she said.

As she warm ups with stretches, Warrington thinks back to horror movies and books she’s inspired by to get into the character’s headspace. As the story goes, Washa went for a job in sanitation at the factory but got tricked into being a prisoner who doesn’t have the adequate supplies to do the task that she was forced to do.

“I would describe her as funny and tormented,” Warrington said. “She was just trying to get a job and they tricked her and threw her into the bathroom where she became a prisoner.”

The crew of haunters hangs out drinking water, eating candy, and taking selfies. A fellow haunter with bloody clothes and one with a broken baby doll get into a screaming match with Warrington to warm up their voices.

A manager yells “5 minutes,” and makeup artists call out for final touches.

Everyone gathers for a crew meeting. Fright Factory managers praise haunters for a successful show the prior weekend, and encourage them to bring the same energy for the night.

“Fright Factory is just a building, that’s all it is,” one manager said. “Look around, this is what makes Fright Factory — if [you all] are great, Fright Factory is great.”

With a reminder to scare everyone, including managers and security, the haunters dispersed to their designated areas.

Carrying a bucket of water and a toilet cleaner brush, Warrington enters through a side door into an old bathroom situated in the middle of the tour. The bathroom is covered in grime and “blood,” with splatters on the walls, floor, and stall doors. A globelike structure with teeth poking out sits in the sink, while one creepy doll sits in a toilet and another peeks its head above a door. Lights are off and loud noises fill the air. “Sometimes I get scared in here too,” she said.

The sound of machinery, wild cackling, and loud thumps makes it hard to hear Warrington at times. “To us, right now it’s quiet,” she said.

Warrington stretches and walks around the room, mumbling dialogue and scrubbing the stalls and floor to get into character. Next door, a fellow haunter in character strikes up a conversation with Warrington.

“Your hygiene is unbalanced,” she cries out. “I can’t count on you as a neighbor.”

“Wrong, wrong, wrong,” her neighbor screams back.

Doors open with families and teenagers lining up outside. Warrington/Washa begins her Friday night shift.

The haunting begins as Washa runs after her first victims, a group of four spooked teenagers, wildly waving her toilet brush with a maniacal smile.

It may only be the start of her shift — she has about four more hours — but Washa is in the zone, chasing the kids out of her haunt.

“I love hearing those screams.”

📍 2200 S. Swanson St., 📞 215-334-4678, 🌐 frightfactoryphilly.com, 🎟️ $30 to $35 per person, ⏳ 20 to 30 minutes