#classic horror story

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price as Mr. Scratch/The Devil //

The Story of Mankind (1957)

[tart-miano]

angry that your parody has a degree and you don't, victor

[gothic-allegory]

Nyarlathotep by Álvaro Fernández González

[halloween-sweets]

[bl00dfroma-fairy]

[anotherscrappile]

Here’s a reminder that I have a website where you can read 15 obscure horror stories found in mid-1800’s literary magazines. I’m always searching for more, so check back periodically :D👍

[cherries-in-wine]

Lolita rant because why not:

WHY DO SOME PEOPLE STILL CALL IT A LOVE STORY WHEN THERE'S LITERALLY A PART WHERE DOLORES ASKS FOR THE NAME OF "the hotel where you first raped me" LIKE EXCUSE ME WHAT PART OF A 12 YEAR GIRL GETTING RAPED AND ABUSED IS ROMANTIC TO YOU??

I cannot stress this enough LOLITA IS PSYCOLOGICAL HORROR. Humbert Humbert is an unreliable narrator that's manipulating and charming YOU into believing it's a love story but it's your responsibility to read in between the lines and realise what's actually going on. How lolita is just a 12 year old girl named Dolores who is isolated, raped and abused throughout the entire book by Humbert Humbert and has no voice in his story.

Even the people behind the lolita movies did not get this they still think of lolita as some sort of seductress which is just disgusting.

I think the reason why people sometimes interpret it as a love story is because of how beautifully it is written. The way Humbert Humbert writes about Lolita is very dreamy and poetic but that's literally the point of the book it's a cautionary tale.

Some people turn Vladimir Nabokov into the villain for writing a book like this when in reality he was victim of child sexual abuse himself. He called lolita his "poor little girl". He wanted the cover of the book to be an American landscape and especially NOT that of a little girl because he wanted lolita to be faceless. It's so heartbreaking to see the author's wishes be blatantly disrespected.

I love psychological horrors/thrillers with unreliable narrators like lolita and killing stalking but they get misinterpreted so often it's sad.

[chinzhilla]

𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶-𝔒𝔫𝔢 𝔇𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔬𝔣 ℌ𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔯 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟺

When I was a little girl, this was my favorite book. Which one was your favorite story?

Tales from the Darkside: The Movie (1990) dir. John Harrison

[leonardcohenofficial]

also since it is the season i am on the lookout for any horror novel recommendations folks have! my horror literature taste tends to stray towards the basics (for example—the shining was the first horror novel to actually scare me when i first read it in middle school and it’s remained a fave ever since, have been reading 'salem's lot this fall for the first time and really liked it, etc.) but am always on the lookout for fresh and challenging work; not a huge fan of anything overly gory but otherwise down for pretty much any genre

[cherry-pop-elf]

Eyes For You

Dr. Jack Griffin x Reader

Authors Note: No one asked for this. No one wanted this. But I wanted it. It’s my emotional support film and god dammit I love this insane Twink.

Sum: You were waiting for your husband to return home from a trip out with some friends. But something went bump in the night. You were no coward, and investigated. Maybe you should have been a coward

Warnings: 18+/Violence, attempted kidnapping, Unhinged madness (you signed up for exactly that anyway), Jack being EXTREMELY protective of you, unethical science, blood, babygirling horror

“Jacky? That you?” You spoke into the darkness. You had to ask. You heard a noise, and well he’s Jack. He likes to pull pranks, and is also a little bit hard to….see….So it’s easier to call than poke around.

There wasn’t a response, however. Even he couldn’t help it but giggle, whenever he tried to pull something sneaky on you. That’s how much he adored you. Unable to keep himself wrapped up enough to follow through. Just to excited to see your laughing face.

Many would have probably stayed in their room. Maybe even call some kind of authorities. You? Well for one calling the cops doesn’t work when you are married to a man like Jack. Also, what’s scarier than Griffin?

So, here you are. You climbed out of bed, stole your husband’s robe, and snuck yourself outside of your shared bedroom. Through the familiar halls of the manor, with a candleholder in hand.

“I swear if someone broke in here, again, I’ll butcher them myself.” You would huff, as you would walk down the stairs. Had a bit of a history of people not knowing when to mind their own business. You came from a well off family, and that was how you and Jack even met. Your father had a medical issue, and Jack was able to solve it. Was hired to be the family doctor, and was able to be given funding for his experiments.

You couldn’t stop your dreamy smile. The memories of how excited he was to share what he discovered to you. How someone was willing to listen his endless rambles. He didn’t love you for the financial prosperities. He loved you because you wanted him to succeed. Was like a fairy tale.

“Whoever’s in my house better get out. I’m not afraid to get violent!” You shouted, as you kicked the door open. Certainly startled the man in your kitchen. Not every day someone actually confronts the one who breaks in.

“I don’t care who you are. Get out of my house. My husband will be home any minute now, and I rather not clean up blood stains at this hour.” The intruder sure was confused at how causal your violent mannerisms were. You kinda picked up a thing or two from a mad scientist.

“Sure he is. I’ve never seen a man come in or out of your house. But I’ve certainly seen plenty of fancy equipment. You’ve got money-“ And he was soon raising a gun at you. “And I have a feeling your daddy will pay plenty to get you back.” He warned.

Not the first time someone did this. But it was the first time someone actually go into your house. Luckily, your husband doesn’t marry himself anyone dumb. You blew out your candle, and the world was casted in darkness.

He fired, in a attempt to hit you, but you were already running. You ran, and tried to think of where would be the best place to go. Should you lock yourself in your husbands lab? What about running outside? Should you risk going upstairs, and getting a better weapon? You tried to think fast, but a bullet finally landed its mark.

You have a yelp of pain, as you were soon falling to the ground. A bullet right in your leg, and your only means of any defense was clattering out of reach. Just left to bleed in the hallway. The portraits of your friends, and family, left to just watch as your attacker found you. The moonlight casting a terrifying glow over his masked features.

“Well that was easy. Husband still coming to save you?” He mocked, as you were left to try and crawl away. Just taunting you, as he knew you couldn’t stand. You suppose this was poetic justice. You were now the victim, and you now had a mad man above you.

There was also something else above you. The rise of the candle holder you had lost in the fall. The darkness made it impossible for the attacker to see, but your angle had the moonlight sparkling on it. The gold a beacon of hope, as it was raised above his head.

“Maybe I should enjoy myself. Damaged goods are still goods, aren’t they?” He cackled at you. Just saw you as nothing more than a damsel of meat to enjoy, and oh did that made your husband growl.

“HANDS OFF MY DARLING!” And down it came. The attacker was down on the ground, wondering how he was hit. Was just left to watch, in horror, as the candle holder was held up by nothing at all. To just watch it come down and hit him over and over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

The blood was pooling. So much splatter, that you could make out your husbands shape. To see the defined features he held. Like his nose, the scars in his flesh, and how his face was in a scowl. He was not one to cross. His own partner, in his own home? Needles to say you’ll need to buy a candle holder.

“Jacky-!” Despite the pain in your leg you were raising your hands up. Eager to be held by your savior. No care for the blood, as you saw it in a cruel justification. Your husband saved you, and you needed to be held.

“My darling-“ He swooned, as you were scooped into his arms. Held close to his chest, and safe in his hidden embrace. With whispers of comfort, as you were quickly taken to his private lab. Safe, and to be treated.

“Oh darling, I should have hurried home sooner.” He was quick to blame himself. The only time he ever seemed to accept blame, really. If you were in harms way he takes guilt with out a second thought. Anything else? Never his fault. He really put you above himself. Above science. Above world dominate. Everything was beneath you.

“Jacky, hush. I’m ok now. You are here now.” You tried to calm him, as he would tend to your leg. Careful calculations. You didn’t even need to see his face to know those once white eyebrows were knitted close together. That he would be sticking his tongue out the corner of rosey lips. To have his violet eyes narrowed to make sure he pulled out the bullet just right.

He made sure you were as pampered as possible, while soothing your wound. Made sure it was cleaned, and patched, what have you. Muttering away at himself about the the annoyance of mankind. The normal.

“I’ll deal with him in the morning. Along with the mess I left behind. Greymatter is all over the walls.” He laughed, as he would proceed to use a wet cloth to clean up the blood off his body. To once again vanish into nothingness.

Call yourself insane, but you swore you could always tell where he was. Maybe being exposed to him for so long has caused you to develop some kind of second hand effects. Maybe you just held a bond with him like no other. You didn’t know. You just knew that you didn’t need to see him to see him, as cheesey as it was.

“You better. My word, you bent that holder into a spiral. I swear-“ You teased, as you were scooped into his arms again. Just a floating bundle of warmth and love. Certainly would cause the strangest of sight to those who were unaware. Which is most of the population. As far as anyone knew you were a widow. That typically keeps people from wanting your hand, but not always.

“He dare lay a hand on you. To harm you. To think he could….Oh his organs would be useless for science. I’m certain they are as dead as his brain is mush. Even his body is no use!” He ranted on, as he would bring you back upstairs.

You both knew his body would be used for some experiment, but the emotions are what matter. Had you nuzzling your face in his neck, with whispers of kisses. The only thing to sooth his raging heart.

“Jacky, let’s get some sleep. I know you had a busy weekend with your friends.” That had him finally stop his muttering. For you, he would defy the laws of nature. Suppose getting some sleep will be what he could offer, tonight anyway.

You would be laid down, as if a maiden by her knight, as he went to get into some sleep clothes. Such as some boxers, and a old shirt he had back when he wasn’t the madman he was today.

It always was so funny to watch, no matter how many times it’s been witnessed. To just see a floating set of clothes. It always had you smiling. To have his mannerism so memorized that you can still imagine them. The way he would sassily rest a hand on his hip, as he paced in thought. To how he would run his fingers through his white hair.

“Jacky….Bed.” You gentler cooed. Was followed by a sigh, from him, as that invisible hand would lift up the blankets. Now a indentation on the bed. All you need to find him. To find him, and snuggle into his chest.

“Welcome home.” You yawned. Safe in his arms again. To feel his scared fingers rub your back, as he would treasure you close. With literal invisible kisses to your face. As if it would be a cure to all your worries. Suppose he was right, they were.

“So good to be home again, darling.” He returned, as you could feel his breathing relax. To have his burning heart cooled. You were the very thing that kept him away from the world. The draw bridge of civilization and a apocalypse.

Maybe if you get bored enough, one day, you’ll lower that bridge.

[universalzone]

[shadowhaert]

TJ MIKELOGAN'S HALLOWEEN 2023 EVENT

Day 4: favorite horror movie (a classic horror story)

insp

[cherries-in-wine]

Rereading lolita makes me appreciate Nabokov's writing so much more, he's really good at making sure that dolores' abuse is subtle enough that Humbert Humbert can romanticise it, but present enough that any competent reader can see how miserable she is.

He thinks she is being a "teasing nymphet" when she only shows him physical affection in exchange for money, when in reality she hates this disgusting old man and is doing anything she can to save some money and escape. He's continuously stealing all her money and he hears her crying at night. He comments on how her eyes look tired and lifeless.

This book will disgust you but that's because it's such a well written gothic horror and in my opinion art should disgust you to a degree. I appreciate Vladimir Nabokov respecting dolores enough that there are no explicit scenes of sexual violence in the book, it's the bare minimum but at this point I feel like so many authors and directors will add in extremely disrespectful and detailed explicit rape scenes just for the shock factor I guess- it's so unnecessary and adds nothing to the story expect for exploiting sexual trauma.

[witchqueenofthemoon]

Angela Barrett.

[what-have-i-unleashed]

very sad to see dust x classic probably not winning because i have an awesome idea where dust is figuratively and literally sans' doppelganger in a pacifist timeline. if it's not winning then i might as well spoil my half-baked idea here already for anyone interested in picking it up :)

this story would follow a pacifist undertale timeline sans as he enjoys his life on the surface with his friends and family. things are well and good.

until one day, sans sees a doppelganger in the crowd, a figure in a jacket similar to his but with their hood up. he doesn't think of it much, and he's not particularly superstitious to be much spooked anyway.

sans works as a standup comedian at a metattton-brand restaurant, so he's fairly famous with some followers. he's particular about not interacting too much with fans, but he does engage with their online questions from time to time. and he has some new online friends, as well as new in-person friends from his gigs. he can be somewhat busy now, but it's not too much that he can't handle.

at first, it's only trivial stuff like people remarking about him going to places he doesn't remember going to. then, it's some few online accounts sending him worrying messages that pry into his private life, asking him about his relationship with his friends, with his brother whom he rarely talks about. he blocks them, but that uneasy feeling doesn't go away.

and then, he's on a small tour, his first one actually. he just needs to leave mt. ebott for a few weeks. things get weirder. he starts spotting his doppelganger more often, but surely that's just a fan right? nothing to be paranoid about.

until he gets ambushed in the dressing room that is, after his last show in the tour, by that same doppelganger he's seen so many times. "i've been watching you for a long time," they say with a huge smile on their face. something's wrong.

cut to when the tour ends and everyone goes back home. papyrus, now a culinary student, is very happy for sans for having his big break as a budding comedian on the surface. when he goes to greet his brother, sans holds him for a little bit too tight, seeming to be shaking just a little bit.

"i quit comedy," sans says, which surprises papyrus. "i focus too much on my job that i forget about everyone and everything important to me. especially you, bro. i promise it won't happen again."

papyrus is confused, reassuring sans that having a career he likes is all fine. but sans only shakes his head, only gripping onto papyrus' scarf harder.

"it's okay. i didn't know how important things are until they were lost to me. but never again. i got everything i need here. i don't need anything else."

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price - Las Vegas Story (1952)