Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
‘Them That Follow’ Movie Review
Them That Follow is about a deep-South Pentecostal snake-handling church. When a secret love affair results in Mara (Alice Englert), daughter of pastor Lemuel (Walton Goggins), becoming pregnant, she must try to hide it from the rest of their community, especially considering that the baby’s father (Thomas Mann) had abandoned the church years ago, much to the chagrin of his parents (Olivia Coleman and Jim Gaffigan).
By Will Lasley6 years ago in Horror
Reed Alexander's Horror Review of 'Lo' (2009)
How do you hide the fact that your movie's budget is the same size as "Shakespeare in the Park?" Make a production that looks not entirely unlike "Shakespeare in the Park." A good friend of mine pointed out that, "If you don't have the budget, make the lack of budget look intentional." Here's the thing, it really worked. This movie is nothing more than a conversation between a mortal and a powerful demon called Lo. The conversation takes place in a single room, the mortal’s apartment, which is transformed into a dark stage. From that point on, everything happening in the movie is nothing more than the conjurings of the demon Lo as a sort of "dog and pony show" for the mortal who summoned her. Meaning, Lo, for her general amusement, could very well be providing a performance that intentionally looks ridiculous.
By Reed Alexander6 years ago in Horror
Hair of the Dog (Pt. 3)
MeeMaw’s Tavern gleamed in the hazy twilight, the flaws in its weather-bitten white paint smoothed away by storm light and the romantic flush of neon beer signs. A low building, it appeared to rise from the depths of a colossal pothole. The dirt lot, jammed with pick-up trucks, funneled toward the crooked concrete slab of its porch where a single caged bulb flickered over the screen door. We parked under the boughs of an elderly oak, far enough away to be beyond the reach of the light, but close enough to feel the tremble in the chassis from the rocking juke inside the tavern. Lynyrd Skynyrd’s "Whiskey Rock-A-Roller" spilled out on a buzz of laughter and raucous conversation. We climbed from the Jeep into the electric air. Above us, a growl of thunder competed with the tavern din, a ponderous sound like that of a piano rolling across a marble floor, and heat lightning cracked the indigo sky.
By Liz Zimmers6 years ago in Horror
Hair of the Dog (Pt. 2)
Inside, the cabin was dim and musty. Crumbling stacks of newspapers covered every surface. The kitchen counter held a collection of dented coffee cans, some bent and shedding rust. An ancient glass coffee pot sat on a stove burner, burbling like a tar pit. I’d seen the propane tank by the side of the house. There was no electricity or running water. A hand pump rose beside the vast enameled sink. Maudie fished two chipped mugs from the depths of the sink and gave each a rub on her apron. She set them beside the stove and turned to wave a long finger at Nick.
By Liz Zimmers6 years ago in Horror
'The Dark Red' Looks Like a Chilling Action-Packed Horror Flick
At first glance, The Dark Red looks like most horror films that revolve around occultist themes, taken newborn babies, and demonic possession. The whole thing starts you out feeling like you have already been here before, and last time it was a much more beautiful place. It's not hard to imagine everyone watching this teaser to write the film off and hope somehow some way you’ll get those precious minutes back. While that will never happen, something else that felt impossible does. All of a sudden, this promo begins to catch your attention. A baby in a box and a woman licking the blood off her fingers will pique anyone's curiosity. This rapid shift in momentum continues to intensify. And then at around a minute twenty seconds, The Dark Red starts to show its true colors. This is no ordinary cult film. This film looks like one wild ride into the genre that horror fanatics will not want to miss.
By D.J. Rivera6 years ago in Horror
She
She always dressed in faded black jeans with the knees torn out and sleeveless T-shirts emblazoned across the chest with the logos of famous rock bands (who inevitably, mother said, seemed to have the word ‘death’ in their names). Basically, She was a good girl, who did all of the things that good little girls in her land did, like worrying about problem-things. Indeed, on the day that our story takes place, She was very embroiled in a problem-thing. She had just come from a lecture about a problem-thing that was altogether new to her and was having quite a struggle wrapping her thoughts around it. New words were all floating around in her mind, like a bunch of little problem things that she could not make into the very big problem thing that the lecture had actually been about. It was all very confusing, but she was sure that if she concentrated real, real hard, she eventually would understand. And concentrate real hard, she did! Why, she was concentrating so very hard on the problem-thing that when she got home she ran in the front door and right through the living room, moving so fast and thinking so hard that she didn't even notice her family waving at her from their very favorite spots in front of the television. She just ran into her bedroom, slammed the door shut, put on her favorite CD, The Dead Lovers In Potato Crates, pulled out a cigarette, lit up with her unicorn lighter and started smoking furiously—like she always did when things needed thinking about.
By John Ridgway6 years ago in Horror
‘Nightmare Cinema’ Movie Review
Nightmare Cinema is a horror anthology film conceived by genre veteran Mick Garris. Several people wander into an old movie theater, and each patron is shown a horror vignette featuring themselves as the main characters. It soon becomes clear that the one showing them these stories, a mysterious figure known as The Projectionist (Mickey Rourke), is no ordinary man.
By Will Lasley6 years ago in Horror
Dear Diary
I creep down the page, one foot after the other sliding to the next line of text, feeling my way with my bare toes. The light around me is dim and creamy, the glow of the night-reading lamp beside her bed. I look up and out and there it is like a hazy moon. I see it through the tall window on the landing of the staircase of words, casting its radiance into the house that is written around me. There is carpet under my feet, a runner of intricate weave and convoluted design—the subtle subtext of her entries, the story within her story, and the sprawling arabesques of her handwriting. I could pull them up, those inky loops, and hang myself with them. Would she see the swaying shadow of my body on her wall?
By Liz Zimmers6 years ago in Horror
