Stories in Horror that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Everybody was turning, one by one. The masses were scared. The town folk could be seen going into the town's Reverence Hall, clutching their soul spheres in their shaking hands. I followed them in, curious. I ignored the screaming around me, the confusion, as everybody swarmed like hornets being stirred up.
Candlelight is elegantly flattering. The delicate dance of a solitary flame rising upwards, outwards... inwards. It is a honey that can reach into any darkness, sweetening it, softening it, enlivening it, warming the macabre and cold callouses left by life.
I'll Play With You
You’ll blame the dog when I kill you. I don’t blame you. After all, look at my face. You used to think I was beautiful, but now? Some of my face is missing, the plastic pieces soon to pass through his digestive system and end up baking with the pile of shit he leaves in your neighbors front lawn. The remaining cracked bits make me look like a puzzle made from a photo of Leatherface. My hair, once dark and lustrous, is nearly gone now, torn from the delicate holes my maker painstakingly crafted with her hands.
5 Cerebral Gore Films Featuring Women: When Slasher Meets Women's Horror
Horror has a long history of murdering its woman characters. This happens because horror films uphold the gender ideology that women are far less superior to men. One might argue that the lack of a woman’s gaze or relatable women characters leads many women spectators to not fall in love with the slasher genre. While Carol Clover’s coined Final Girl trope might make women pumped up about seeing a woman survive a horror film, that doesn’t mean all women would identify with the Final Girl (especially if she’s written stereotypically). I’ve discovered that there’s a new horror genre: a genre that combines slasher, cerebral (psychological horror), or women’s horror that is often directed, written, produced, and/or starring women. Coined by Amy Jane Vosper comes a new hybrid horror genre: cerebral gore.
Operation Winter Queen
To the Admiral of the Fleet: Admiral, I know this may come as a shock to you, but the operation is still active. I repeat, Admiral, this operation is still active. I have compiled what I think is a short chronological account from clandestine memos and his unfinished memoir. This goes back to MI19! I can now begin to guess why the Admiral refused to retire, and the rumour that he was a Baker Street Irregular is likely true. You'd know better than I do on that score. I know you have your hands full with his funeral et cetera, but I believe that this is the reason he refused to leave the office, and died in it. He was still on duty. I will continue to clean it out and look for more skeletons, but it seems everything else was assigned to others as he got older – except for this. Please read, this is urgent:
The Night Stalker
Carl Kolchak was the brainchild of actor Darren McGavin, who was a fixture of television and movies for decades, and who brought to the role a peculiar life that has outlived the short-lived series spawned by this initial, wildly popular television movie.
Wðrร†. Ðå†ê. Èvêr! (Çhåþ†êr 2)
Chapter 2: A case of charity gone awry Frank had practically begged me to go out with him. He’s not a bad-looking guy, but Frank is obnoxious as hell. The man is dreadfully in love with himself: a true narcissist. Teresa warned me against going out with him. Frank had a reputation around the office as a womanizer, and he fit the profile to a T. Self-absorbed, immature, flirtatious, garrulous, and annoying. I was fresh meat for him: “the new girl”.
There's a kind of darkness that belongs to Illinois. If you ever find yourself a little east of the Mississippi river on a night in late autumn, you might see it then. If you're on a road that's outside one of those fragile halos of electric light and civilization (and let's be frank, that accounts for most roads in Illinois) you'll probably get to watch it close in around your car: a cool, viscous absence of light that's not so much black as it is gray. Like the color has been sucked out of everything.
OMG! WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO?
OMG! WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO Can I really get myself out of it? )( + )( “What a beautiful, little mirror. I just have to have it!”
“Shota.” He continued to pack the sling bag, his name rolling off his ears. “Shota, please. Stop and listen." It was no good. The bag was packed and thrown over his shoulder.
BLACK CHRISTMAS (2006) is an unfairly underrated holiday-horror schlockfest
With horror films, how often do we not know how good we once had it until it's way too late, and we can only appreciate something's greater value upon reevaluation, and unflattering comparison to the lesser alternatives we have in the present?
Darkness snarled, “We must have blood.” Abigail quivered. Her mind was a battleground of emotions. Had the doctor’s diagnosed it wrong? Was she finally cracking beneath the strain of the being bipolar? The voices, the voices were so strong. She simply didn’t know how to tune them out.