#Hatchet II

[fanofspooky]

Scream Queen - Danielle Harris

[horrororman]

Happy October, folks!🎃🔪

Notable films that were released on October 1st...

#NightoftheLivingDead (1968)(Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania)(premiere).

#TheTexasChainSawMassacre (1974)(premiere).

#Freaked (1993)(limited).

#HatchetII (2010)(limited).

#BoneTomahawk (2015)(Austin Fantastic Fest).

#horror

[hesawifebeaterdanusethegun]

Hatchet II (Dir. Adam Green, 2010)

[gravecinema]

Grave Reacts: Hatchet II (2010) - 06/27/2023

In this video, my roommate will be reacting to her first time watch of "Hatchet II" from 2010. This was a Patron Subscriber pick from Chaos, and this was just intense as the first one!

[james-stark-the-writer]

absolutely wild fucking movie, features some of the greatest and also some of the funniest kills ever in a slasher. genuinely a incredible amount of creativity on display, one is so good and well-executed (HAH) i would declare it as a top five slasher kill of all time. kinda Barbarian before Barbarian, and the main role being recast into being played by Danielle Harris only helps this become a fucking classic. so fucking good. forgoes the meta and ironic nature of the first one and chooses depth and unashamed sincerity wherever it can, and it really fucking works. a little wild to think Danielle Harris made this after Rob Zombie's Halloween II, but i consider the ending of this as closure for that movie tbh. the sudden cut to the credits also works much better here because you're actually invested in the characters. basically an improvement over the first film in almost every way. vibes so hard, it's very much like a story you tell around a campfire.

My ★★★★½ review of Hatchet II on Letterboxd

[flashfuckingflesh]

Second Sight Delivers the EVIL Goods Yet Again! "You're Next" reviewed! (Second Sight Films / Blu-ray)

Limited Edition and Standard Edition Sets of “You’re Next” Available At Amazon! Celebrating 35 years of marriage, Paul and Aubrey Davison invite their four children – Drake, Crispian, Aimee, and Felix – to their rural weekend manor along with their respective spouses for the occasion.  Tensions amongst strained family ties begin to boil over as siblings quarrel before they even share the first…

[spookyhotmess]

[goryhorroor]

horror in horror movies

night of the living dead (1969) in sinister 2 (2015) it came beneath the sea (1955) in godzilla (1998) house on haunted hill (1959) in before i wake (2016) scream 2 (1997) in hallowee h20: 20 years later (1998) donovan’s brain (1953) in child’s play (1988) house on haunted hill (1959) in trick ‘r treat (2007) night of the living dead (1969) in halloween ii (1981) lifeforce (1985) in invaders from mars (1986) black sabbath (1963) in hatchet for the honeymoon (1970) the bride of frankenstein (1935) in the funhouse (1981)

[fanofspooky]

Horror movies of 2010

[movies-tv-more]

2013 Horror Movies - Celebrating 10 Years

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

what level of nostalgia is randomly remembering a movie you disliked as a child and watching it again to still hate it

[fluffle-ocs]

Every Hatchetfield OC of mine is collectively going to put you in the blender (most of them are under the bi umbrella)

i am bisexual. don't put me in the blender

[hillrun]

i took the image of a burning image into my heart. / aesthetic .

cassandra climbs the palace steps unprompted. / character study .

guilt is a woman & she's walking on her knees. / musings.

gods of slaughter‚ i've always been your favorite daughter. / fc.

i'll make a fist. i'll make it count. / arc iii fc .

everywhere she ran‚ she found she was already there. / ic .

in her eyes‚ home has always been burning. / hc .

bad daughter‚ freedom fighter. / arc undetermined .

i still dream about my childhood room. / arc i .

i'm afraid that i'm sisyphus and i will never rest. / arc ii .

i buried a hatchet‚ it's coming up lavender. / arc iii .

it's a cruel summer. / fear street verse .

rip icarus‚ u would have loved redbull / shitposting .

[narrativestringtheory]

NST #800: Hatchet II (2010)

A wall of clipping shows up in the background of an opening scene of Hatchet II (dir. Adam Green, 2010), resembling the example in Tucker and Dale vs. Evil (dir. Eli Craig, 2010) [NST #649].

[apoemaday]

Little Sleep’s-Head Sprouting Hair in the Moonlight

by Galway Kinnell

I. You scream, waking from a nightmare. When I sleepwalk into your room, and pick you up, and hold you up in the moonlight, you cling to me hard, as if clinging could save us. I think you think I will never die, I think I exude to you the permanence of smoke or stars, even as my broken arms heal themselves around you.

II. I have heard you tell the sun, don’t go down, I have stood by as you told the flower, don’t grow old, don’t die. Little Maud, I would blow the flame out of your silver cup, I would suck the rot from your fingernail, I would brush your sprouting hair of the dying light, I would scrape the rust off your ivory bones, I would help death escape through the little ribs of your body, I would alchemize the ashes of your cradle back into wood, I would let nothing of you go, ever, until washerwomen feel the clothes fall asleep in their hands, and hens scratch their spell across hatchet blades, and rats walk away from the culture of the plague, and iron twists weapons toward truth north, and grease refuse to slide in the machinery of progress, and men feel as free on earth as fleas on the bodies of men, and the widow still whispers to the presence no longer beside her   in the dark. And yet perhaps this is the reason you cry, this the nightmare you wake screaming from: being forever in the pre-trembling of a house that falls.

III. In a restaurant once, everyone quietly eating, you clambered up on my lap: to all the mouthfuls rising toward all the mouths, at the top of your voice you cried your one word, caca! caca! caca! and each spoonful stopped, a moment, in midair, in its withering steam. Yes, you cling because I, like you, only sooner than you, will go down the path of vanished alphabets, the roadlessness to the other side of the darkness, your arms like the shoes left behind, like the adjectives in the halting speech of old folk, which once could call up the lost nouns. IV. And you yourself, some impossible Tuesday in the year Two Thousand and Nine, will walk out among the black stones of the field, in the rain, and the stones saying over their one word, ci-gît, ci-gît, ci-gît, and the raindrops hitting you on the fontanel over and over, and you standing there unable to let them in.

V. If one day it happens you find yourself with someone you love in a café at one end of the Pont Mirabeau, at the zinc bar where wine takes the shapes of upward opening glasses, and if you commit then, as we did, the error of thinking, one day all this will only be memory, learn to reach deeper into the sorrows to come — to touch the almost imaginary bones under the face, to hear under the laughter the wind crying across the black stones. Kiss the mouth that tells you, here, here is the world. This mouth. This laughter. These temple bones. The still undanced cadence of vanishing. VI. In the light the moon sends back, I can see in your eyes the hand that waved once in my father’s eyes, a tiny kite wobbling far up in the twilight of his last look: and the angel of all mortal things lets go the string.

VII. Back you go, into your crib. The last blackbird lights up his gold wings: farewell. Your eyes close inside your head, in sleep. Already in your dreams the hours begin to sing. Little sleep’s-head sprouting hair in the moonlight, when I come back we will go out together, we will walk out together among the ten thousand things, each scratched in time with such knowledge, the wages of dying is love.