A Spirited Quest

You have always suspected the Valley was a little . . . creepy. Maybe it’s just the insidious suburban sprawl or the way the 405 suspiciously clots up like a meat addict’s arteries every time you decide to have dinner on the Westside.

Then again, maybe it’s the season. Judging from the ersatz pumpkin patches that have been cropping up on every empty lot in your neighborhood, it’s almost Halloween. Yes, the time of year when you can gleefully embrace all things spooky and eat as many tiny, individually wrapped candy bars as you like.

With the promise of chocolate to guide you, you decide it’s time to get into the ghoulish spirit right in your own backyard. With a wooden stake, a rosary and a bag of miniature Snickers in your pocket, you decide to unearth that which makes, to mangle an old song by the New Wave band Ministry, every day in the Valley Halloween.

Realizing that your first dip into the tide pools of the great spiritual unknown might require more research than reruns of “In Search of . . . “, you make your first stop at the Psychic Eye on Ventura Boulevard. A virtual New Age Mall of America, this Valley-based chain has everything from one-day astrology chart service (when it absolutely, positively, has to be predicted overnight) to a variety of on-site hypnotists, clairvoyants and spirit guides.

Overwhelmed, you find yourself gravitating toward the tchotchke section of the store. You buy a pink candle and some lavender incense, then fawn over a delicate crystal necklace before leaving. So much for embracing spookiness.

You decide that a more user-friendly destination might ease your transition into a budding Vampira. The vine-covered storefront of the Raven’s Flight bookstore could easily pass for a froufrou tea shop in Malibu or some swank Melrose eatery--albeit one that offers Wicca instruction and lunar schedules.

Here you find a kinder, friendlier introduction to the pagan lifestyle. A babbling fountain sets the mood, and even the resident cat, Ivy, is deliriously friendly. Pawing through some multicolored fashions designed to express your inner witch, you envision peaceful moonlit ceremonies and womyn-only harvest celebrations boasting home-baked bread and poetry readings. It suddenly occurs to you that this sounds more like an evening with Martha Stewart than an introduction to terror. You decide to move on, but secretly hope the Raven’s Flight opens up a tea parlor.

Just down the street is Panoptikum, a store overflowing with the latest in decorating must-haves for the goth/punk/kitsch addict. Wandering through the crowded showroom, you sense that you’ve finally found what you’ve been looking for. Need a coffin? Take your choice--child or adult size, no less. Human skulls? Try the glass case in the back, next to the red devilish cigarette dispenser. Glancing around, you are quite sure you’ve never before seen so many skull-encrusted candelabrum.

You enter a dimly lit room toward the back of the shop where you discover “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” playing on an endless loop to a miniaturized rogues’ gallery of such unearthly luminaries as late-night talk show hostess Vampira, Dracula-style film character Nosferatu and an alarmingly pudgy golem. You’re duly impressed with the realism of the figurines until you get the uneasy feeling that Nosferatu is giving you the eye.

Your next stop, Dark Delicacies, is a bookstore catering to readers whose blood lust cannot be sated by mere dabblers like Stephen King or Peter Straub. Featuring comics, books and scripts for horror fanatics and slasher-movie junkies, the store also offers such creepy treats as life masks of Alfred Hitchcock, velvet capes and grim-faced gargoyles.

“Barnes and Noble this isn’t,” you think as you skim such subtle titles as “Lady Death Swimsuit” and “Hot Blood 7: Fear the Fever.”

With a delicious shiver of excitement, it occurs to you that you have thoroughly embraced your spook spirit--and, gloriously enough, you’ve done it through the fine art of shopping. Smug in success and pleased by the fact that you’re still under your credit limit, you briefly toy with the idea of sporting orange and black on the 31st, just to show your ghoul solidarity. Thankfully, you come quickly to your senses, remembering that the color combination is just as unsightly on Halloween as it is the rest of the year.

Nevertheless, you actually feel ready to weather the onslaught of those short, giggly fashion victims who are sure to come begging at your door Friday night. The problem is, you’re out of Snickers--and a deadly chocolate craving is creeping up on you. Now you’re really scared.

In search of sustenance, you head to I. . .Scream in North Hollywood, your local coffee and confectionery haunt. You bypass the pumpkin ice cream and head straight for the killer house special--The Screamer. A double espresso with three scoops of vanilla ice cream topped with chocolate syrup and whipped cream, this caloric nightmare puts those wimpy Starbucks Frappucinos to shame.

Sucking it down, you confront a real horror. Face it--you’ll be burning off this binge with a long, dark ride on that evil beast of a StairMaster long after the undead have crawled back to their graves.

BE THERE

I. . .Scream: 10936 Magnolia Blvd., North Hollywood; (818) 755-9321.

Dark Delicacies: 3725 W. Magnolia Blvd., Burbank; (818) 556-6660.

Panoptikum: 5050 Vineland Ave., North Hollywood; (818) 985-2837.

Raven’s Flight: 5042 Vineland Ave., North Hollywood; (818) 985-2944.

Psychic Eye: 13435 Ventura Blvd., Sherman Oaks; (818) 906-8263.