Exclusive | Post reporter transforms into a cast member of the city’s spookiest lair for a night of fright

Behold, New York City’s newest “scream queen.”

It takes a lot to truly rattle me. I live for the eerie and the strange — the haunted houses, the folk horror flicks, the spooky vintage thrift store knick-knacks.

So when I recently got an offer to go full freak show and freak out New Yorkers at NYC’s boo-tacular Blood Manor — the hugely popular, 10,000-square-foot labyrinth with 22 themed rooms of gore, guts and high-voltage trauma — I was all in.

And, really, who wouldn’t be?

The annual Halloween attraction, which began in 2003, draws thousands of thrill-seekers who willingly pay to be terrified by more than 30 live actors, animatronics, and special effects — not to mention rumored real-life terrors.

Over the years, tenants have reported eerie apparitions and ghostly screams echoing through its halls, leading many to call it one of Tribeca’s most spirited locations.

“The building itself is haunted on its own, without us,” owner Jim Lorenzo told The Post. “It’s the perfect home for what we do — New Yorkers come here to scream, laugh and completely let go.”

No need to twist my arm, Jim!

A-haunting she will go …

On a fittingly chilly October night, I willingly joined the ranks of Blood Manor’s gruesome ghouls, trading in my press pass for painted-on fangs, rotting black fingers and a blood-splattered babydoll dress.

After a quick tour of the basement and boiler room — steeped in its own haunted history — I was led to a behind-the-scenes makeup room before showtime at 7 p.m., where rocker Rob Zombie, appropriately enough, echoed through the speakers.

There, I found killer clowns, blood-soaked escaped prisoners, demonic priests and more, all in the midst of being … well, definitely not beautified. Let’s go with spookified.

Which brings us to my assignment: terrorizing guests at the final room on Blood Manor’s twisted tour, titled “The Cult of the Spider.”

Now, the only thing that truly terrifies me is spiders. But when BloodManor’s makeup artist Stigs suggested turning me into a “spider siren” — a cultish temptress who worships a spider goddess and lures clueless men to their doom — I figured it was time to face my fears (and put my own bloodcurdling scream to the test).

Side note: The whole “leading men to their demise” thing felt oddly therapeutic after years of failed dating in New York. But I digress.

My face was airbrushed in haunting shades of black and beige, with multiple glistening, painted “eyes” crawling up my forehead and cheeks.

Black web-like streaks radiated from my lips and chin, while my chest and neck were covered in a symmetrical, exoskeleton-style design that looked both alien and alluring.

My nails were painted into dripping ombré claws — deep blood-red fading into black and perfect for luring men into my web. I put on a white babydoll minidress splattered in UV paint to resemble blood and headed upstairs.

I was nearly ready for my don’t-get-too-close-up.

A room with a ‘Boo!’

My assigned room was decorated with a downright deranged display of crosses, tombstones, skeletons, blood-soaked bull heads, pig heads, vines, crypts, and a hanging spider goddess, also draped in white.

It felt like a glow-in-the-dark, twisted temple pulsing with divine feminine energy — equal parts creepy, crawly and seductively sinister.

I’m enamored by all things witchy, gothic, darkly romantic and glamorously macabre — think “The Craft,” “Practical Magic,” “The Love Witch,” “Sleepy Hollow” and “Corpse Bride” — so it was all wicked fun to me.

Before brave visitors — wearing 3D glasses — reached our room, an extremely talented 9-year-old actress named Sianna taught me how to “jump like a Huntsman spider.”

Actress Amy Upham, who dreamed up the room’s concept, also offered inspiration to get into my sinister character, saying, “They’re the flies now — and we’re hungry.”

Shudder.

I was handed a choice of props — naturally, I chose a machete over a feeble fly swatter — and was stationed at the entrance to jump out from the shadows, coax guests to “come and meet” the Spider Goddess, then turn on them and “feed” them to her.

I remembered the words of owner Jim Lorenzo, who had given me grave advice for delivering the perfect scare.

“Don’t ever use the word ‘boo,’” he warned. “And when you decide to scare someone — go 100%.”

So I did.

Enter — if you dare

In between uttering spine-tingling chants as guests stumbled into our lair, I jumped out the moment I heard them approaching, making sure I’d be the first thing they saw around the corner.

Armed with the machete, I slowly turned my head like Regan in “The Exorcist” or the infamous Annabelle doll, opening my eyes as wide as possible, eliciting a steady chorus of shrieks from my victims.

Thrilling, yes. Terrifying, yes — and honestly, I want to do this every Halloween from now on.

“You look perfect for her, the Spider Goddess,” I’d growl to guests as some cried out, “No, I’m good — thanks!” or clutch their significant others and turn away from me while slinking deeper into the room, where my fellow actors would then take over.

Meanwhile, Upham and fellow actress Emma, both dressed in blood-splattered white gowns that glowed in eerie neon hues, danced around the room with menacing, spider-like precision — crawling on all fours, hissing at anyone who dared to enter.

I mostly stayed on my own two feet — still trying to get the hang of the walking-like-a-spider thing — but mimicked their slow, seductive movements and sinister facial expressions.

At one point, I even crept toward the final exit, crouching behind a tombstone to deliver one last jolt before visitors escaped Blood Manor.

Some gasped, others screamed — a few just froze in shock — and for two hours, I caught many of their priceless reactions on a chest-mounted GoPro.

It left me feeling scarily sinister — and maybe a little naughty.

“I think it’s a big kink for people,” Stigs told me with a laugh earlier in the night. “Doing the scaring — and also being scared — can turn people on.”

MTA = Metropolitan Terror Authority

Still riding the adrenaline high, I decided not to wash off my spider-siren makeup before heading home at 10 p.m. — eight-legged glam and all.

On the R train uptown from Canal Street, two guys asked for a selfie (I obliged), while others tried — and failed — to secretly snap photos of me.

One man took one look and said, laughing, “That’s one freaky-lookin’ b—h.” (Aw, thanks!)

By the time I transferred to the L train, no one even blinked. I’d arrived in Bushwick, after all — you could have a third eye and fangs and still blend in.

But as I strutted down my block, one woman in head-to-toe black passed by, gave me a nod, and said simply: “Your makeup is fire.”

Overall, after one night at Blood Manor, I may still scream at spiders — but at least now, I can make other people scream, too.

Blood Manor is located at 359 Broadway. It is open Thursday, Oct. 23, through Sunday, Oct. 26; Tuesday, Oct. 28, through Sunday, Nov. 2; and Friday, Nov. 7, and Saturday, Nov. 8.

Tickets start at $50 for general admission — or you can skip the line with R.I.P. Express Entry for $70.

Looking to do the same “Scare Actor Experience” that our reporter did? That’s available this year, too, for $350.