interview

Interviews with authors, film directors and horror snobs of all kinds; conversations that will unsettle, and shed light on all things dark and mysterious.

Separated at Midnight… Dead by 1AM | The Bobby & Betty Mystery
One day in September 1951, a 53-year-old man named Adolph Siller was carrying a big box from his car and entered a house in the city of Winston-Salem, North Carolina, and walked on the road until he reached the room where his two 21-year-old daughters, Bobby and Betty, were sitting. Bobby and Betty were very happy and excited about this step, because they were finally able to leave the house of the family they were raised in, which means their father's house and their mother's house, which was in another city about an hour away.
By souhila8 days ago in Horror
The Ninth Hour of Malachi : SEASON 4
Chapter 12 (Climax and Immediate Aftermath) CHRONICLE LOG: Final entry in the retrieved portion of Father Pavel’s journal. The entry consists of only two words, written in a shaky, almost illegible hand, before the page is consumed by a jagged tear: "She awoke." The whereabouts of Father Pavel remain officially undisclosed.
By Tales That Breathe at Night10 days ago in Horror
The Unnamable of State Route 87
The Night on State Route 87 It was a usual drive on a well traveled road in Arizona. State Route 87 was a route William Church knew like the back of his hand, often traveling to and from Phoenix. So well in fact that he felt safe enough to bring his wife and travel with her across the desert. Something he went back and forth with in his head seeing how the desert heat and endless terrain can often be unforgiving. What if the truck broke down and they were left stranded? The drive time was about an hour on a night where the moon rose faster than anticipated, and stars started to shimmer bright, twinkling like a mother smiling back at you, on this night a little too bright for the vast expanse.
By Lobo Miasma20 days ago in Horror
The Mirror That Blinked First
Clara had never believed in cursed objects. She believed in dust, in age, in poor lighting, in imagination — but never in the supernatural. That was why the mirror didn’t frighten her when she first saw it.
By Modhilraj22 days ago in Horror
The Ninth Hour of Malachi : SEASON 3
SEASON 3 Chapter 9 FATHER PAVEL’S PRIVATE JOURNAL: Entry dated November 5th, 2003. We found the root. It is a chamber beneath the foundation, clearly pagan. Ana is down here, but she is barely visible, encased in some type of crystalline growth...the stone has accepted the entity, and the girl is the final mortar. The anchor is here, not a relic, but a crude, petrified heart. Malachi will not yield until we destroy the physical core of its power.
By Tales That Breathe at Night26 days ago in Horror
The Serial Killer Who Displayed His Victims In A Haunted House Attraction
Gary, Indiana is known for their surplus of abandoned homes, 10,000 to be exact. Most of them too run down to even give away.
By Matesanz27 days ago in Horror
The Ninth Hour of Malachi : SEASON 2
Season 2 Chapter 5 BROKEN DOCUMENTED FACT: The Monastery of the Silent Veil was built on the ruins of a pre-Christian pagan site known for ritual sacrifice. Historians note a significant number of suicides among the early monks, with bodies often found twisted into unnatural postures, mimicking the position of a figure being broken on a wheel. The term "Malachi's Hour" first appears in a 13th-century text, referencing the ninth hour of the day...the hour of ultimate darkness before dawn.
By Tales That Breathe at Nightabout a month ago in Horror
The Ninth Hour of Malachi : SEASON 1
Season 1 Chapter 1 Excerpt from the private diary of Father Sorin, Novice Exorcist. Entry dated October 14th, 2003. Location: The Monastery of the Silent Veil, Bucegi Mountains, Romania.
By Tales That Breathe at Night2 months ago in Horror
The Man Who Appears Only When You Blink
Everyone in my town sees him—but only in the split second when their eyes close. The first time I noticed him, I thought it was just fatigue.
By Modhilraj2 months ago in Horror
The Last Call from a Dead Phone
I recognized the ringtone before I understood what I was hearing. It was soft, tinny, wrong—an outdated jingle I hadn’t heard in years. The sound crept through my apartment at 11:43 PM, threading its way into my bones before my mind caught up.
By Modhilraj2 months ago in Horror
My Reflection Started Blinking First
The first time it happened, I blamed exhaustion. I’d been working late for weeks, sleeping in fragments, living on coffee and half-remembered dreams. When I stood in the bathroom at 2:11 AM, staring at my own face under the harsh yellow light, it didn’t feel strange that my eyes burned or that the reflection looked slightly off. Fatigue plays tricks, everyone says that.
By Modhilraj2 months ago in Horror
The Train That Only Runs for the Missing
The train station wasn’t on any map. I found it by accident, following a shortcut home after a late shift, cutting through a street I’d walked past a hundred times but never down. The air smelled wrong there—stale, like rain trapped underground. At the end of the road stood a narrow platform lit by flickering yellow bulbs. A rusted sign hung crooked above it, blank except for peeling paint.
By Modhilraj2 months ago in Horror