Fright club

Which is scarier: Blood Manor or the nightclub below it? A haunted house and the zombies of West 27th Street face off.

BLOOD MANOR


The stuff of nightmares
Located on the fifth floor of a clubby West Chelsea high-rise, this 5,000-square-foot haunted house features 20 themed rooms—some inspired by classic horror flicks (Hostel, From Dusk Till Dawn)—and a labyrinth of blackened and black-light passageways. Forty gored-out actors work the set amid body bags, gutted pigs and epileptic strobes.

Eternal wait
The line can take up to two hours to navigate, although RIP skip-to-the-front tickets are sold at a premium ($45). “You picked a baaad night to come,” warns an Uncle Fester--ish door bitch once you reach the cobweb-laced gates. The trek lasts about 20 minutes, depending on how long you gawk at the zombie strippers.

Ghastly decor
On the floor: blood-splattered holding cells, a pit crawling with rubber snakes, rats the size of bullmastiffs, a gory lobotomy lab and a framed portrait of Abe Lincoln with a bullet in his forehead.

Liquid hell
Actors and set designers blow through blood and bile by the gallon. Drunken visits are highly discouraged.

Ear splitters
Animatronics howl, thunder crashes, teens squeal, pots clang, air cannons fire and a coffin-lounging nun demands Exorcist-style lovin’.

Horrors and whores
You can’t touch them and they can’t touch you—but beware of the chain-saw-wielding maniac in tightie-whities and tube socks, and the electrocutioneewho occasionally pops out his (real) glass eye.

Bloodbaths
There’s one bathroom in the whole joint: Behold a severed head in the toilet, a mass murderer hidden behind the shower curtain and a drippy blood manor scrawled across the mirror.

GUEST HOUSE


The stuff of nightmares
The sister club to HOME, this is your prototypically overpriced bottle-service sperm bank, following in the neighborly footsteps of Spirit and BED. Expect a tangle of tawny limbs, sparkly belts, oil-slick lips, shabby-lookin’ B&Ters in open-toe sandals and beefed-up security (in response to last year’s off-site murder of Jersey teen Jennifer Moore).


Eternal wait
Doorman shenanigans are de rigueur here; at any given time, the line is 10–25 bodies deep. Guest House doesn’t do guest lists—especially if you’re ugly, male and/or dressed like Dwight Schrute. Best bet: Slip into something celeby and seek out promoter X—he’s kinder and more approachable than the other clipboard superstars.

Ghastly decor
Check it out: black hallways, black curtains, leather banquettes, wooden cubbies aglow with candles, a garish red chandelier and velvet wallpaper that looks like a Rorschach test vomited on itself.

Liquid hell
Bottles run $300–$800; buy champagne and a waitress may trot out with a sparkler and dance.

Ear splitters
Rihanna, Soulja Boy and Britney Spears give way to Ibiza-style house (chk-th, chk-th, chk-th), spun live and accompanied by an impressive saxophonist.


Horrors and whores
Sashay across the dance floor and you might feel a hand on your ass, courtesy of a frisky patron. If you’re a lithe lady in search of a seat, belly up to the sugar daddy with the $350 bottle of Grey Goose.

Bloodbaths
The bathroom is stocked with Dentyne, Aqua Net and a tip bucket. You’ve got about 30 seconds to do your business; after that, a pissy attendant will pound on the door to your stall—the implication being, of course, that you’re brushing with supermodel toothpaste. Gawd!

And the winner is…Guest House, where the tricks are always real!

Blood Manor and Guest House are located at 542 W 27th St between Tenth and Eleventh Aves. Visit bloodmanor.com or homeguesthouse.com for more info.