Opening to a Horror Story
They told him the house was haunted. They told him the house was
strange. Five families had moved in, and never made it out. Alive
anyway. He had already survived two days with his family. His second
night in his new home, what could possibly happen?
A whispered name.
The boy stirs in his sleep. A pale, vaporous moon lights the room.
Shadows are deep. He twists his head, turning towards the window so
that his face becomes a soft mask, unblemished, colourless. But the
boy’s dream is troubled; beneath his lids, his eyes dart to and fro.
The whispered name:
‘Daniel….’
Its sound is distant.
The boy frowns; yet the voice is within his own slumber, a silky
calling inside his dream. His arm loosens from dampened bedclothes,
his lips part in a silent murmur. His floating thoughts are being
drawn towards consciousness. The protest trapped in his throat like a
form, emerges as he wakens. And he wonders if he has imagined his own
cry as he stares through the glass at the insipid moon.
There is, in his heart, a dragging sorrow that seems to coagulate the
blood, so that movement in the veins is slothful and wearisome.
Somehow, making all effort to exit a ponderous, perhaps even hopeless
affair. But the whispering, almost sibilant, voice dispels much of
that inner lassitude.
‘…Daniel…’ it calls again.
And he knows its source, and that knowledge causes him to shudder.
The boy sits up, rubs the moisture from around his eyes (for he has
wept while sleeping). He gazes at the dim shape of the bathroom door
and is afraid. Afraid…and fascinated. He draws aside the covers and
walks to the ...
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... wondering. She has an unclean desire to suck his very soul form him,
to make his heart rise in the flesh inside him, to drag from his veins
every precious particle of him that still wants to survive. Wanting to
slide her hand into his body, breaking the flesh so easily even with
her delicate fingers, and close her fingers around his heart, bring it
to her lips and sucking it, like a fruit until no blood is left in any
fibre. Feeding on it till even the colour of blood is out of it.
The boy is frozen. His mouth is locked open, lips stretched taut and
hard over bone, the scream begun but only breaking loose a moment or
two later, a shrilling that cuts through the threatening quietness of
the house. His cry diminishes, dissolves, and the boy’s eyes close
while he seeks refuge as his absent-mindedness becomes inflexible…
Within the picture before me, I see myself. I was dressed in all black; black dress shoes, black pants, a black button-down shirt with a sleek black tie, a black suit jacket, black gloves, a black ski mask, and a black fedora to top it all off. I am not entirely sure what I was supposed to be. Was I a mobster, a thief, or even a personification of the night? The date was Halloween and I was sitting on a bench in front of my house, waiting to scare or give out candy to anybody who approached the door. That year, we had not decorated our house as well as previous years; but we still had a few last minute ideas implemented o let people know that they were welcome to approach. There was a rotating red beacon flashing, jack-o-lantern cutouts over the porch light, and creepy music playing loudly. Despite the decorations, not one person came to our house and hardly anyone had decorated for the holiday along my street. I remember feeling disappointment when I realized that nobody was going to¬¬¬¬ come and anger as people walked by our house without a second glance.
head, to the right shoulder, all the way down to the right part of the
“Instinctively, with sudden overmastering passion, at at the sight of her helplessness and her grief, he stretched out his arms, and next, would have seized her and held her to him, protected her from every evil with his very life, his very heart’s blood… But pride
Do you ever wonder what you would do if you were being chased by a zombie? Last October on the weekend before Halloween, I got to find out the answer to that very important question. My friends Ashley, Anna, Vikram, and I decided to go to the Great America Fright Fest. It’s a very unique event where the whole park is decorated for halloween and filled with lots of scary attractions for the entire month. It had been a sweltering day for late October filled with lots of cotton candy and rollercoasters, and as the sun sank lower into the sky the real fun began.
and in her bosom I’ll unclasp my heart. and take her hearing prisoner with the force. and strong encounters of my amorous tale. Then, to her father, will I break? and the conclusion is, she shall be thine.’
A man starting from nothing with only the urge to write becoming so much more. The King of Horror is a member of many guilds, writer of some of the best horror novels, and has even made a couple movies. Although, with a current net worth of 400 million dollars, Stephen King was not always the King of Horror.
...— for repose and restoration, for the knowledge that life comes from between our legs, and that life costs blood. (Diamant 158)
The Nelly Butler hauntings is referred to as the first recorded ghost story in American history (LiBrizzi 5), and possibly the most exciting hauntings to date as there are still many unsolved mysteries. The apparition appeared on more than 30 separate occasions to over 100 witnesses in Sullivan, Maine, just over fifteen years after the American Revolution (5-6). Although the Nelly Butler apparition is one of the most convincing ghosts of all time, it was subject to suspicions of fraud. These claims turn out to be groundless as the evidence reveals the ghost to be genuine.
“It started on halloween night 2015, I was 13. I lived in a white house. It was three stories with big colorful flowers covering it in the summer. We had a big yard about eight acres. My room was painted orange and I had a pumpkin cover for my bed. But my mom made me put it away for christmas. But everything I had all my earrings were Halloween it was crazy. I went to school at Jacksonville middle school. It was a good school with a nice clean gym new bright red lockers. My friends were Ariel and Victoria, Ariel had long red hair with bright blue eyes and light skin she was also 13 years old. Victoria had jet black hair with big chocolate brown eyes that pleaded with compassion, she was also 13 and all three of us were
The indispensability of the flesh to this turning of the self to the Other signifies the excellence whereby the human transcends the angelic.
into its mouth, it is a wonder that any survived. Fromt then on disease and
Has anyone ever stopped and thought about why movie remakes exist? There is always a simple explanation to this conception, and it’s either that Hollywood directors are “lazy” or that Hollywood wants to destroy our childhood scares. For the most part, Hollywood isn’t literally attempting to become futile or destroy the integrity of films, but it’s much for the profit of recreating former popular movies. In addition to that, the revamp graphic quality allows for older movie plots to compete against their modern counterparts, but there still remains an issue. In order to reestablish an older horror film, a newer one has to take its place for the sake of pleasing the current technologically adept generation; however, alterations may completely
a dull grey colour as if it had lost the will to live and stopped
In his book, Horror and the Horror Film, author Bruce F. Kawin remarked “horror itself resists formulation and can be difficult and unpleasant to contemplate.” This year was a phenomenal year for both horror and contemplative movies. Two prime examples: Get Out and mother!. Despite being both horror films with subliminal messaging and allegories, they had drastically different reactions and box office performances. To understand why this happened, it is imperative to analyze marketing, storyline, climate, and audience interpretation.
Years ago I had the most terrifying, shocking day of my life. I had between seven or eight years when this happened. The day before the accident, all my family was at my grandfather’s house. We all were eating the food my mother and my aunts brought, telling jokes at the dinner table. Meanwhile, I was playing with my cousins in the backyard. Everyone was enjoying the family meeting. As the time passed by and everyone was about to go home, my mother suggested the idea that we all should go at my grandparent’s ranch next day, since everyone was in town we all could have the chance to go. Everyone liked the idea. It was the perfect time to go because it was a weekend. As they all agreed to go, they begun to decide who bring what to the gathering. Who would have thought that thanks to that suggestion, I would lead me to the hospital the day of the reunion.