vintage

Special effects may be lacking, but vintage horror films still manage to keep our palms sweating and blood pumping; a look back at retro horror films, stories, books and characters that prove everything is scarier in black and white.

The Curse of the Labubu Doll
In the quiet town of Elmridge, nestled between mist-covered hills and ancient forests, lived an old toymaker named Mr. Thorne. He ran a curious little shop called “Whimsy & Wires”, cluttered with forgotten toys, wooden soldiers, porcelain dolls, and winding music boxes that played haunting lullabies. But none of these drew as much attention—or fear—as the Labubu doll.
By Junaid Shahid 6 months ago in Horror
The Last Letter from Kandahar
The desert does not forget. The sand of Kandahar has soaked in centuries of blood, sweat, and silence. Each grain holds stories — of warriors, victims, and men who stood their ground when it mattered most. Among them lies the memory of Sergeant Faraz Malik, whose final act of bravery became more than just a tale — it became a legacy.
By Wings of Time 6 months ago in Horror
The Vanishing Hotel Room: Urban Legend With Teeth
A Check-In to Nowhere It begins, as these stories often do, with the soft click of a hotel key. A weary traveler arrives in a foreign city; usually Paris, sometimes London, occasionally somewhere in Asia and collapses into the comfort of a rented room. The air smells faintly of dust and old polish; the curtains are drawn tight against the bustle of the street below. The front desk clerk is polite, distant, and just a bit too eager to hand over the key.
By Veil of Shadows6 months ago in Horror
The Imitation Ward
They told me I was lucky to survive the accident. They said the bus flipped three times. That half the class never made it out. That I was found crawling out of a drainage ditch, soaked, confused, and screaming.
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Horror
Whispers Beneath the Iroko Tree
The village of Irawo had long forgotten the sacred songs. The drums were silent, and the river Orun ran dry where the elders once poured libations. Only the wind remembered. Only the Iroko tree remained.
By Eka Intan6 months ago in Horror
Blood in the Mouth, Light in the Mind. Top Story - August 2025.
We are told, the light is safety, the darkness, a trap. We are told, the day brings to light what is done in the night.
By Paul Stewart6 months ago in Horror
Fort Rotterdam: Indonesia's Fortress of Tears
Guarding the Makassar coast of South Sulawesi stands Fort Rotterdam, larger than Indonesia's best-preserved Dutch colonial fort. Its three-century-old sea-turtle-shaped walls (Benteng Penyu) are beset with sorrowful history and whispered secrets of troubled ghosts, making it the nation's spookiest place to visit.
By Kyrol Mojikal6 months ago in Horror
The Pollock Twins: Reincarnation Evidence?
The Screech of Tires On a quiet street in Hexham, England, May 5, 1957, life was ordinary. Two sisters; Joanna, 11, and Jacqueline Pollock, 6... skipped along the cobblestones on their way to church. Their mother walked behind, her heart full of the simple joys of a spring morning. Then came the screech of tires. A car, driven by a local woman in a daze, veered toward the girls. The mother screamed. Neighbors would later swear time slowed down before the impact. And in a blink, the lives of the Pollock family were torn apart.
By Veil of Shadows6 months ago in Horror
SEASON 4- EMILY ROAN : The Nomen Child
Chapter 12: The Mirror Ward Tallowridge County Pediatric Hospital Basement Level 2, Restricted Access Corridor Z Date: November 22, 1985
By Tales That Breathe at Night6 months ago in Horror
The Hollow Beneath the Pines. AI-Generated.
It was the summer of 2012 when I visited a remote village in southern France with my cousin Adrien. The kind of place where phones lose signal, and time slows down to match the hum of crickets. At the edge of the village stood an ancient pine forest, rumored by locals to be “cursed.” They called it La Forêt Creuse—The Hollow Forest. Of course, we laughed it off. At seventeen, curses were just stories meant to keep kids indoors. But I’ve never quite laughed about it since.
By Sherooz khan6 months ago in Horror
The Collector of Echoes
Elias Thorne was a man of silence, a digital archaeologist whose domain was the forgotten whispers of the past. His studio, a sanctuary of soundproofing and vintage equipment, was where he resurrected dead audio, polishing static into clarity, bringing long-lost voices back from oblivion. His latest acquisition, a collection of unmarked reel-to-reel tapes from the estate of a deceased, reclusive audio engineer named Alistair Finch, promised nothing more than mundane historical recordings. Finch had been known for his eccentric field recordings, capturing everything from the distant cries of urban foxes to the subtle hum of forgotten machinery. Elias anticipated a few interesting sonic textures, perhaps a rare snippet of an old street performer.
By Jack Nod6 months ago in Horror
Being Consumed in Whole or in Part by Invisible Forces as if you Were a Sentient Cheeseburger on Two Legs
People generally don't realize how ugly they look after they've quit breathing. Skin goes cold, marbled, and hard—you sort of bloat up and turn blue. Dead people are only sexy if you're a necro or someone on Reddit named "Azreal Moonchild."
By Tom Baker6 months ago in Horror