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.
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 Enoch4 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. Thomas4 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 Rose4 years ago in Horror
Birthday Surprise
The friends drove through miles of empty fields. It had been more than twenty miles since they last saw civilization. The old, dusty, green VW bus jostled to a stop at the end of the dirt driveway. The sun was setting behind the three story, hundred year old house and the mist was beginning to spread over the fields. The image was eerie enough to scare two of the six occupants of the bus.
By Marchele M Banks4 years ago in Horror
A Night to Remember
The warm, sweet smell perfumed the air as Whitney pulled the hot pan from the oven, her hands armored with mitts (and face gleaming with pride) as she smiled down at her mud-brown masterpiece. Already on her second glass of pinot noir, she floated over to the shiny marble kitchen island to set the tray down for cooling. She shut the oven and opened the fridge to extract opaque, gritty goodness. German chocolate cake would be nothing without its creamy coconut companion. This was the perfect ending to a relaxing evening after a murderous work week.
By kalyn cherise4 years ago in Horror
