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.

Haunted Octopus House Bandung: The True Story Behind Indonesia's "Devil's Church"
Menacingly looming over Jalan Cipedes Selatan No. 6 in Bandung, West Java, the Octopus House (Rumah Gurita) is Indonesia's one of the most strikingly visual and perpetually haunted places. The building's past and ghostly reputation have been tormenting local nightmares for decades, merging architectural peculiarity with supernatural lore.
By Kyrol Mojikal6 months ago in Horror
The Silent Twins: A Terrifying Bond of Isolation and Death . Content Warning.
Trigger Warning: This story contains depictions of psychological trauma, mental illness, and death. Reader discretion is advised.
By E. hasan6 months ago in Horror
The Lantern Bride
In the village of Sablewick, where the fog never truly lifted and the trees whispered to one another in the dark, there stood a lonely manor called Briar Hollow. It sat on a cliff overlooking the sea, its windows always dim, its doors always closed, and its gate held shut by rust and old regrets.
By Lucien Hollow 6 months ago in Horror
The Midnight Dressmaker
In the quiet village of Gallowmere, where the moon always seemed just a little too full and the air always smelled faintly of roses and ash, there was once a woman named Elara. She was known far and wide as The Midnight Dressmaker.
By Silas Blackwood6 months ago in Horror
Season 3 - The Bone-Light: How an Orphaned Village Became a Mouth for Something Older
CHAPTER 9: The Child Who Sang With No Mouth : How The Orphanage Fire Left Three Survivors With a God’s Song April 4th, 1980 - Borsk Regional Hospital (Secure Burn Ward, Room 12-C)
By Tales That Breathe at Night6 months ago in Horror
Meet Me - Lucien V. Crow
Welcome, dear wanderer, to the dim-lit corridor that is my mind. My name is Lucien V. Crow, and if you’ve stumbled here, chances are something inside you itches for the eerie—the flicker of candlelight down a long-forgotten hall, the creak of a rocking chair no one remembers owning, the soft thud of footsteps in an attic long sealed. You’re among kin now.
By Lucien v. Crow6 months ago in Horror
The Strangest Date I Ever Survived
The Strangest Date I Ever Survived To say I’ve had bad dates is like saying the ocean is slightly damp. But nothing—and I mean nothing—prepared me for the strangest, most gloriously awkward date I ever survived.
By Huzaifa Dzine6 months ago in Horror
Whispers in the Jungle. AI-Generated.
It was supposed to be the perfect getaway. Three friends, Ayaan, Bilal, and Usman, had been planning their jungle adventure for months. The idea was simple: to escape the busy city life, explore the unknown, and challenge themselves to survive in the wilderness. Ayaan had heard stories of a forgotten jungle, nestled deep in the mountains — untouched, mysterious, and waiting to be explored.
By nasir shah6 months ago in Horror
"Beneath the Silence"
In the stillness of the night, when the world around us is hushed and quiet, we often find ourselves lost in thought. Our minds wander, and we begin to reflect on our lives, our choices, and our desires. It is in these moments of silence that we can tap into the voice beneath the silence – the voice of our inner self.
By subhan ullah7 months ago in Horror
The Mirror Room. Content Warning.
The invitation came in a heavy cream envelope, handwritten, no return address. The estate of Marianne Ellory has named you sole inheritor. Keys enclosed. Please return home.
By Silas Grave7 months ago in Horror
Season 2 - The Bone-Light: How an Orphaned Village Became a Mouth for Something Older
CHAPTER 5: The Girl Who Drew Exit Wounds: How the Orphanage Bleeds Memory Date: March 20, 1980 - Location: Borsk, Abandoned Girls’ Dormitory
By Tales That Breathe at Night7 months ago in Horror
The Voice at the Door
The rain was a steady, mournful rhythm against the windows, a soundtrack to the oppressive silence inside our small cottage. Three days. It had been three days since we’d buried my mother, Clara. Three days since her vibrant laughter, her comforting presence, had been reduced to a cold, sterile memory. The grief was a physical weight, pressing down on my chest, making every breath an effort.
By Noman Afridi7 months ago in Horror