These places are scarier than the economy.
If you don’t want to wait until Friday for your Halloween chills and thrills, take a tour of these city haunts.
If you dare.
The Palace Theatre, Broadway, between 46th and 47th streets
In the 1950s, famed tightrope walker Louis Borsalino slipped and plummeted to his death in front of spectators.
Stagehands say that when the theater is empty, the ghost of Borsalino can be seen swinging from the rafters. He lets out a blood-curdling scream, then re-enacts his nose dive.
Roxy Studios, 28-39 Review Ave., Long Island City, Queens
Former owner Keith Angeleno loved his studio so much, he asked to have his ashes spread on the roof after he died of a brain tumor in 1980.
Since then, employees have heard music playing in empty rooms, witnessed clocks flying off walls and heard footsteps in the crawl space.
The Conference House, 7455 Hylan Blvd., Staten Island
The 300-year-old Tottenville building, site of peace talks during the Revolutionary War, is home to ghosts of disgruntled 18th-century servants, British soldiers in full regalia and the soul of a sad young girl.
Drumbeats are also commonly heard emanating from a Native American burial ground nearby.
Brown Building, 29 Washington Place, Greenwich Village
The NYU classroom building was once the site of the Triangle Shirtwaist factory fire in 1911, which killed 148 sweatshop workers.
To this day, students complain of sudden bouts of claustrophobia and fire-alarm bells that go off without explanation.
41 Thomas St., TriBeCa
The notorious address where famed prostitute Helen Jewett was bludgeoned to death with an ax and set on fire in 1836 is said to be haunted by her specter. She is said to still wander the halls of her former bordello.
New Amsterdam Theatre, 214 W. 42nd St.
The ghost of Ziegfeld Follies chorus girl Olive Thomas, who in 1920 killed herself by overdosing on her cheating husband’s syphilis medication, has yet to leave.
One story has her ghost wearing her green, beaded flapper dress and headpiece and holding the blue vial of deadly pills as she floats across the stage and in a dressing room.
A night security guard swore that she blew him a kiss and walked through a wall in 1997.
14 W. 10th St., West Village
It has been 21 years since 6-year-old Lisa Steinberg was beaten to death by crack-smoking sadist Joel Steinberg, a lawyer who had illegally adopted the girl, in the 19th-century town house.
And Mark Twain, who lived there from 1900 to 1901, said it was haunted. In the 1940s, a poet killed herself there, and some 25 years earlier, there was a murder-suicide.