#occult horror

[weirdlookindog]

Isabelle Dufresne in Simon, King of the Witches (1971)

[videoreligion]

Alucarda (1977)

[horror-aesthete]

The Mephisto Waltz, 1971, dir. Paul Wendkos

[sprintingowl]

Never Stop Calibrating

So I released a tabletop rpg a little while back. It's about 1920s occult horror.

The core book's about a hundred pages, and I've kind of released seventeen or so supplements for it as well, so it's getting up there in page count.

I've also been playtesting it, playtesting the supplements, running demo games, making corrections when I find something broken, and somewhere in this process I foolishly assumed I polished all the bugs out.

The thing is, even games that are as old as history, games like go and mancala that have been polished smooth by the river of human interaction, can still be tweaked just a *little* bit. Optionally, of course. To better suit a specific group of players.

And ttrpgs as an art form are (probably) younger than go and mancala, and are way rougher around the edges, and yeah I found some more stuff in my game I wanted to adjust.

I think this is kind of just the process, though. I think as long as people are playing ttrpgs, they're changing them. This happens at the micro level all the time, with GMs making house rules and tables agreeing to play in particular ways (lines and veils, discouraging or encouraging pvp, steering towards or away from romance and drama.) But it also happens at the macro level. There's a whole old-school revival about bashing 1e into increasingly refined or increasingly alien shapes. Heck, 2e's probably due for its own renaissance soon.

And the outcome of all of this is that a game is never really done. Sure, I'm doing active updates for this thing, but even if I weren't, all it would take for the game to change would be for someone to pick up and play it, maybe make a houserule or two, maybe scribble a fanhack in the margins.

And that's kind of sweet, honestly.

The folks who designed go, mancala, chess, final fantasy, punch out, the quiet year, gubat banwa, beyond the fence below the grave, have created these little perpetual motion machines that grow and change for as long as we do.

[jenny-toons]

"Soul compatibility has never looked scarier."

On June 1st, 1967, Nirvana Kings and her friends went camping in Drummore Pines. They had awakened something ancient and wicked, and its soul had latched onto Nirvana's.

She had become the vessel of The Unheard, and the woods had become a place of the damned. With each soul claimed, it has become bigger, expanding, moving closer towards the nearby towns.

---

Nirvana Kings is the first revamp of my old creepypasta character Nayabi Kimura. Similar to the first version, I've incorporated body horror that's based on trees, though now it's straight up demon possession rather than a revenge plot.

I'll work on a character profile later! Hope you enjoy!!

[kekwcomics]

DENIS WHEATLEY: THE KA OF GIFFORD HILLARY

[horrorcrawl]

The Skull (1965) 💀

Director: Freddie Francis (Amicus Productions) Genres: Thriller, Horror, Occult 💀 Notes: Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, Patrick Wymark, Great Sets and costumes, occult, supernatural, demonology, possession, haunted object, absolutely loved it!

Review: This is easily going into my top 1960's horror films. It has everything you could want from a horror film from this age. From the creaking gate in the cemetery opening sequence to the wonderfully detailed study of Dr. Christopher Maitland it's a film that's vintage visual candy. Even the practical FX, sets and lighting used for the hauntings of the Skull made this film feel like a fun time. The story is paced well and with acting from the legendary Peter Cushing as the lead and Christopher Lee in a supporting roll as a fellow collector this is a film I'd recommend as a great way to start your delve into 60s horror or at least added to the top of your to-watch list. Overall I give The Skull (1965): Must Watch 🖤🖤🖤

[thevideodungeon]

The She Beast (1966)

What happens when you can only afford Barbara Steele for one day? This, apparently. A movie that is okay, as long as you don’t think too hard about its premise. A British tourist in Transylvania gets possessed by the spirit of an ancient witch after driving into a lake, and now it’s up to her husband and a Van Helsing dispossessed of his aristocratic status by the communist government. Yeah… that’s another thing. This film also goes to great efforts to show the “Horrors of communism” in Eastern Europe, but does so through a lens with so little subtlety that it’s surprising that it wasn’t made in America. Depicting the government as oppressive, yet incompetent, in a way that is at best slightly at-odds with the tone of the rest of the film, and at worst devolves into complete slapstick comedy. Beyond that, it just kind of goes from point A to point B without much in the way of interesting diversions or developments.

4/10

[authorbertslechner]

[judgeitbyitscover]

The Howling (1977) by Gary Brandner

Cover art by Daniele Serra

Books of the Dead Press, August 2011

Karyn and her husband Roy had come to the peaceful California village of Drago to escape the savagery of the city. On the surface Drago appeared to be like most small rural towns. But it was not. The village had a most unsavory history. Unexplained disappearances, sudden deaths. People just vanished, never to be found.

[lilibetbombshell]

[weirdlookindog]

La chiesa (1989)

AKA The Church

[videoreligion]

Alucarda (1977)

[horror-aesthete]

The Mummy, 1932, dir. Karl Freund

[horrorhodgepodge]

Oddity [31 Days of Horror: Day 4]

🦇Summary Tonight, we’re plunging into the dark, atmospheric world of Oddity, a gripping Irish horror film that delves into the heart of sorrow and retribution. 🌑 Starring Gwilym Lee as Ted, a man shrouded in secrets, and Carolyn Bracken as Darcy, a blind medium with a haunting connection to her deceased twin, this chilling narrative unfolds when a cursed mannequin unlocks buried truths. 🪄 As…

[jesterbenedicte]

The Eclipsed Symphony

Genre: Dark Fantasy, Cyberpunk, Occult Horror

*In the heart of New Elysium, a city suspended between the corporeal and the cosmic, shadows wove their dark tapestry across the neon-drenched streets. Here, amidst the techno-futuristic sprawl, the lunar eclipse was not merely an astronomical event but a harbinger of chaos, a symphony written in the language of the unknown.

Chapter 1: The Rhapsody of Eclipse

Vesper Kane, a cyber-sorcerer with eyes that reflected the city's synthetic glow, stood at the precipice of the abandoned opera house. Once a beacon of artistic grandeur, now it lay forgotten, a relic suffocating under layers of grime and time. Vesper's leather trench coat flapped in the wind, a canvas of shifting colors and electric veins. He was here on a mission, but not one dictated by the mundane—the eclipse had stirred something far older and more malignant.

“Vesper Kane,” a voice whispered from the shadows, slithering into his ears with the seductive allure of a forbidden melody.

He turned, his gaze locking onto a figure cloaked in a shroud of spectral mist—Noa, an enigmatic figure from the underbelly of the arcane. Her presence was both a blessing and a curse, a reminder of powers that should remain undisturbed.

“Are you here to witness the symphony or to stop it?” Vesper asked, his tone both intrigued and wary.

Noa’s eyes gleamed with an eldritch light. “The music of the eclipse is not for mere mortals, Vesper. But the cosmic harmonies are entangled with our fates tonight.”

Chapter 2: The Echoes of Forgotten Aria

As the eclipse began, the city fell into a surreal silence, broken only by the distant hum of neon and the occasional, distorted sigh of the wind. Within the opera house, the air grew colder, each breath a visible puff of mist. The grand chandelier, once a symbol of opulence, now hung like a ghostly relic, its crystals refracting the dim, otherworldly light.

In the center of the stage stood a figure not of flesh and blood but of echoes and shadows. The Conductor, an ancient being whose music could unravel reality itself. His baton was an obsidian wand, thrumming with an eerie rhythm that seemed to resonate with the heartbeat of the cosmos.

“Welcome to the final performance,” he intoned, his voice a tapestry of time-worn echoes.

Vesper’s heart pounded. This was not merely an occult ritual but a conduit to realms beyond human comprehension. The Conductor's symphony was a crescendo of chaos, a complex weave of notes that promised both transcendence and destruction.

Chapter 3: The Dance of Dissonance

The eclipse reached its zenith, casting a shadow that warped reality. The boundaries between dimensions blurred, and the cityscape morphed into a living tableau of surreal and nightmarish visions. Streets twisted into impossible angles, and buildings bled colors unseen by human eyes.

Amidst this turmoil, Noa began to chant in an ancient dialect, her words a counterpoint to the Conductor's melody. Her spellwork was delicate and fierce, a dance of light and darkness, weaving a protective barrier around Vesper and herself.

“This is not just a performance,” Noa said, her voice a trembling thread in the void. “It’s a battle between creation and obliteration.”

As they fought to maintain the fabric of reality, the Conductor’s symphony surged, each note a blade seeking to rend the veil between worlds. The air crackled with eldritch energy, a cacophony that threatened to tear the very essence of existence apart.

Chapter 4: The Silence Beyond the Notes

With a final, wrenching note, the symphony ended, and the eclipse began to wane. The city slowly returned to its semblance of normalcy, the oppressive atmosphere lifting like a shroud. Vesper and Noa, exhausted and scarred, stood amidst the remnants of the opera house.

“We’ve merely postponed the inevitable,” Noa said softly, her eyes reflecting the last vestiges of the cosmic light.

Vesper nodded, understanding that the battle was not won but merely delayed. The symphony of the eclipse was a prelude, a haunting overture to a greater cosmic ballet.

As they walked away from the opera house, the city seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Yet, beneath the neon façade, the echoes of the night’s performance lingered, a reminder of the thin veil separating reality from the abyss.

Translate:

Глава 1: Рапсодия затмения

Веспер Кейн, кибер-колдун с глазами, отражавшими синтетическое сияние города, стоял на краю заброшенного оперного театра. Когда-то маяк художественного величия, теперь он лежал забытый, реликвия, задыхающаяся под слоями грязи и времени. Кожаный плащ Веспера развевался на ветру, холст меняющихся цветов и электрических вен. Он был здесь с миссией, но не продиктованной обыденностью — затмение пробудило что-то гораздо более древнее и зловещее.

«Веспер Кейн», — прошептал голос из тени, скользя в его уши с соблазнительным очарованием запретной мелодии.

Он повернулся, его взгляд остановился на фигуре, окутанной пеленой спектрального тумана — Ноа, загадочной фигуре из недр арканы. Ее присутствие было одновременно благословением и проклятием, напоминанием о силах, которые должны оставаться нетронутыми.

«Вы здесь, чтобы стать свидетелем симфонии или остановить ее?» — спросил Веспер, его тон был одновременно заинтригованным и настороженным.

Глаза Ноа сверкали жутким светом. «Музыка затмения не для простых смертных, Веспер. Но космические гармонии переплетены с нашими судьбами сегодня вечером».

Глава 2: Отголоски забытой арии

Когда началось затмение, город погрузился в сюрреалистичную тишину, нарушаемую только далеким гулом неона и редкими искаженными вздохами ветра. Внутри оперного театра воздух становился холоднее, каждый вздох — видимым облаком тумана. Большая люстра, когда-то символ роскоши, теперь висела как призрачная реликвия, ее кристаллы преломляли тусклый, потусторонний свет.

В центре сцены стояла фигура не из плоти и крови, а из отголосков и теней. Дирижер, древнее существо, чья музыка могла разгадать саму реальность. Его палочкой был обсидиановый жезл, гудящий в жутком ритме, который, казалось, резонировал с сердцебиением космоса.

«Добро пожаловать на финальное представление», — пропел он, его голос был гобеленом изношенных временем отголосков.

Сердце Веспера колотилось. Это был не просто оккультный ритуал, а проводник в сферы за пределами человеческого понимания. Симфония Дирижера была крещендо хаоса, сложным переплетением нот, которы�� обещали как трансцендентность, так и разрушение.

Глава 3: Танец диссонанса

Затмение достигло своего зенита, отбросив тень, которая исказила реальность. Границы между измерениями размылись, и городской пейзаж превратился в живую картину сюрреалистичных и кошмарных видений. Улицы скручивались в невозможные углы, а здания истекали цветами, невиданными человеческим глазом.

Среди этого хаоса Ноа начала петь на древнем диалекте, ее слова были контрапунктом мелодии Дирижера. Ее заклинания были тонкими и яростными, танец света и тьмы, сплетающий защитный барьер вокруг Веспера и ее самой.

«Это не просто представление», — сказала Ноа, ее голос был дрожащей нитью в пустоте. «Это битва между созданием и уничтожением».

Пока они боролись за сохранение ткани реальности, симфония Дирижера набирала силу, каждая нота была лезвием, стремящимся разорвать завесу между мирами. Воздух потрескивал от сверхъестественной энергии, какофонии, которая грозила разорвать саму суть существования на части.

Глава 4: Тишина за пределами нот

С последней, мучительной нотой симфония закончилась, и затмение начало угасать. Город медленно возвращался к своему подобию нормальности, гнетущая атмосфера развеивалась, как пелена. Веспер и Ноа, измученные и покрытые шрамами, стояли среди остатков оперного театра.

«Мы просто отложили неизбежное», — тихо сказала Ноа, в ее глазах отражались последние остатки космического света.

Веспер кивнул, понимая, что битва не выиграна, а просто отсрочена. Симфония затмения была прелюдией, навязчивой увертюрой к большему космическому балету.

Когда они уходили от оперного театра, город, казалось, вздохнул с облегчением. Однако под неоновым фасадом все еще звучали отголоски ночного представления, напоминая о тонкой завесе, отделяющей реальность от бездны.