slasher
Don't open that door! Psycho made slasher films a hallmark of the horror genre; explore iconic hackers, slashers, and chainsaw-wielding psychopaths, from the safety of your living room.
Till This Feels Like Reality
"Thank you Dr. Morrison" I say while leaving the doctors office. "Of course, Vincent. Hey one more thing" he says, stopping me from opening the door and leaving, "yes?" I asked. Dr. Morrison stands up and comes close to me, "I know your hallucinations can be scary. But remember...they can't physically interact with you. No matter how real it seems, they cannot touch you. Okay?" Dr. Morrison opens the door to his office, walking me out. "Thank you...I'll remember that." I leave his office and go to the waiting room where my girlfriend was sitting, waiting for me. "Carolyn" I said, gaining her attention. "Vincent!" She said while standing up to meet me by the door so we could leave. "How did it go? Any new coping skills I can help with?" She asked, while holding my hand walking out to our car. I love Carolyn, she's always so supportive of me and always wants to help. "Kind of, Dr. Morrison told me to remember that nothing in my hallucinations can physically touch me. They can't hurt me." She nodded her head "I'm sure that is comforting to hear." She gave me a smile and we got into our car.
By Marissa Moore4 years ago in Horror
IMBALANCE
There is a unique quietness to snow covered ground that makes me feel as if I’m the only person on earth. Standing here staring at the beautiful scenery winters storm has created, I want to stay in this moment for eternity. The howling wind rushing through the forest behind me brings with it a chill as it finds every possible route through my clothing. Body tensing from the cold just a reflex as it happens without notice. Lost in thought childhood memories transport me to a happier time. Nostalgia forces a tear to my eye with the realization of that time forever gone. Explanation cannot justify the feeling brought on by this experience. With the tear streaming down my face, a depression takes root as a faint noise draws me back to reality.
By Jason Jones4 years ago in Horror
Aftermath - A Netflix Movie Review
At least it’s a good thing we know that murders happened in this house, right? Aftermath was released to Netflix in 2021. Struggling to repair their marriage, a couple moves into a house with a dark past. Odd situations happen inside this house. Due to the situation, Natalie and Kevin argue. Will they work together or get split apart?
By Marielle Sabbag4 years ago in Horror
Fallen Log
The storm crashed around me as my wheels slid on the wet black pavement. My wooden wheel fought me, causing my tires to squeal. My brakes screeched to a sudden halt when there was a giant log in the road. My blonde petite friend Sammy stirred awake in the back seat of my blue station wagon.
By Brittany Mitchell4 years ago in Horror
Which Film Swallows Your Soul? Comparing 'The Evil Dead' to 'Evil Dead II'
Sam Raimi first introduced us to the Necronomicon and the Deadites with The Evil Dead back in 1981. Starring pop culture icon Bruce Campbell at the ripe age of 23, the story about five friends being confronted with an ancient evil eventually rose to become a cult classic and is beloved by horror fans everywhere. The film features impressive practical effects for an independent film and it has a rather scary premise when you sit down and think about it. I mean, a story that includes being assaulted by trees if you try to leave the woods is very unsettling. While we see Ash rise to the role of the lone survivor and hero, he isn't really the Ash that we recognize and love today. In this adaptation, he is a rather sensitive young man struggling to save his friends and destroy the evil that has manifested itself into his sister.
By Jenika Enoch5 years ago in Horror
The Best Haunted House
Halloween is my favorite holiday. I just love the thrills, chills, scares, and everything else that goes with Halloween. Aside from dressing up, my favorite part is the haunted houses. My friends on the other hand are classic mindless sheep, scared of damn near everything. For weeks, I’d been trying to convince my friends to go to the best haunted house with me. Finally, on Halloween night, they agreed to make the two-hour drive into another state to entertain my need for fear. The drive sucked for two reasons. One, all they kept doing was try to convince me to go to the bar, and two, they brought along this single guy in attempt to set us up. He was cute but every time, they tried to do this, the guy usually left because I was too weird.
By K. E. Thomas5 years ago in Horror
Journal of Jack The Ripper
August 31st, 1888; I know I might appear as a mad woman my dear journal, but I am not. My father was a doctor and during the beginning of my childhood, he would show me the beauty of the art of medicine. He was a man of ideas and great beliefs. His heart was of gold and he helped the poor as much as he could do so. My uncle had always frowned upon this, he was disgusted by the lower class. It was from him that I learned to hate. It was from him I learned the satisfaction of killing. My bitterness started when a man from the slums came in demanding tonics from my father. You could tell the man was strung out, and hoping to get a thrill. It was like the devil himself came to see us when he pulled out that knife and grabbed me by my hair. “Now, or the girl gets it!” His knife pressed against my throat allowing my smallest drips of blood drop down. My father tried to calm the man and begged him not to hurt me, coming closer to the man with each step. “That’s too close!”, he scraped across my throat and face within seconds as he flung me aside leaping forward with his blade. I could see my father lay on the floor bleeding out, my body shook while I clung my neck and face with my hands. Drenched in blood. The man started filling a sack with anything he could place his hands on until the bell above the door dinged and my uncle walked in. With a flash of his hand the man fell to the ground. My uncle dropped his gun and ran over to me, and started shouting for help. “Is he dead?’ I whispered through tears and blood,’Yes.” my heart had felt happy knowing the man was dead. “Good.” Years have passed, and I continued my fathers study of medicines. I wanted more though, and even with my wits and skill, nowhere would take me. This was part of the pain of being a woman. My uncle however showed me the skills of death, so that my body would never know a scar like the one etched across my face, ohw so many years ago. It became apparent I would never be able to continue my research of the human body without obtaining a corpse myself. It did not matter my uncle's place in politics, or the strings he would try to pull to allow me to carry on my fathers ideas, it was believed men were only suited to this line of work. “Why not just be a nurse?”, they’d ask. The nerve of them, my skill was not going to waste away galloping behind men. I wanted to be a doctor, and the best one at that. This, my dears is what led me to this. Looking upon the slums of the city, the hatred in me grew. It was their fault my father was dead, their fault I came to this position in life, and well when life gives you lemons, you must make lemonade. I had to be smart though and use my wits about this, a woman such as myself would easily stand out, but a man would not. I prepared the perfect disguise, and of course night time would be the best time. I needed a pattern to follow, which easily enough boats docked every Thursday and Friday. They’d depart on Saturdays, or Sundays. Amongst these ships are butchers and workers, one of them could easily be blamed if things get too heated. I needed victims that would not be missed, and could easily be drawn away from the public's eye into more secluded areas without suspicion. My first victim had soft skin, she was a prostitute and easily led away when i flashed money to her. I didn't even need to say a word, it was so easy! I thought I would get sick the first time but I didn’t! I watched as she led before me down an alley, then at the most perfect moment I stepped forward and grabbed her from behind. She giggled for a moment, I suppose she believed I was just “ready to go” as you would call it. Ohw, how it changed with the first cut, then the second I watched her try to step away, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gurgled upon her own blood. I couldn't help but smile, I mean can you blame me? I had to make it look like a killer for blood and draw the attention away from the views of a surgical matter. I stabbed her, and cut her in so many ways angels would even blush. I then began to make my cuts along her abdomen to begin my examination. I was ever so close, until I heard footsteps coming towards me. I had to disappear. My uncle caught me coming in. He looked upon my trench coat and grinned. We spoke for many hours, he was very proud and had some ideas about how to further my examinations. He has proclaimed to get me the proper surgical knives, and obtain jars to keep specimens in. He believes my work will do great towards his fellow club of men, and will inspire the world. Until next time my dear journal, for it is time I rest and plan my next move.
By Erica Rose5 years ago in Horror
