One day an amusement park, the next a flooded wonderland. An urban explorer's dream, Six Flags has been abandoned since Katrina and is entirely creepy in its "time stood still" way.

This cemetery-adjacent property was built as a home in 1872. By the 1930s, it was converted into a full-service funeral home. The funeral home operated until Hurricane Katrina in 2005. After the flood, the building survived but was left unkept. In 2007, the mansion was converted into a haunted house.

The chapel's small side room in the St. Roch Cemetery is packed with prosthetics, braces, private notes, anatomical casts, creepy dolls, grimy stuffed animals, and even locks of hair pinned to the wall — all left as tokens of thanks or offerings to St. Roch, the patron saint of healing.

As the story goes, the Gardette-LaPrete mansion was rented out by a rich young Turk who moved in with his harem, throwing wild parties. Then a crazy mass slaying (was it pirates?!) occurred and the bodies were discovered after blood was seen trickling out from under the door. "The Sultan" was allegedly buried alive in the backyard.

Whether you believe in ghosts or not, the oldest cemetery in the city is straight-up electric. It's like winding through a maze of jumbled, crumbling above-ground tombs and crypts. Voodoo queen Marie Laveau's remains are here—as is the future tomb of actor Nicolas Cage.

Jackson Square is so charming and picturesque, it’s easy to forget it was a site for public executions in the 18th and 19th centuries. More than 100 enslaved people were executed and decapitated here following the 1811 German Coast Uprising, known as the country’s largest slave revolt. Their bodies were left to rot, and their heads were placed on the city gates.

“Their Heads, which decorate our Levee, all the way up the coast… look like crows sitting on long poles,” wrote one traveler, according to The Daily Beast.

America's first licensed pharmacist practiced here and took joy in performing exploratory surgeries, especially on women. If the antique medical instruments aren't freaky enough, the pharmacist’s ghost is said to haunt the third floor. Employees say groans can be heard.

A million square feet of space in the middle of downtown shuttered since Hurricane Katrina, with no solid plans in place for its future. Scary. But at least the festering biomedical waste has been removed.

On June 24, 1973, an unknown arsonist set a fire in the stairwell leading to this gay bar. The old dry wood and flammable carpeting went up like a tinderbox, trapping dozens of men and women inside. Bars across the windows prevented them from leaping to safety. Thirty-two souls lost their lives in the devastating blaze, which remained the largest mass killing of LGBTQ people until the Pulse nightclub shooting in 2016.

Though the Upstairs Lounge never reopened, the bar on the building’s first floor, The Jimani, is still in business.