Tag Archives: Horror fiction

Why Horror

Greetings:

Why I like Horror

It’s cool. It’s seductive. It has a hold over us, like a spell, a tentacle that reaches out from the closet of our darkest dreams and pulls us in. Horror has worked its dark magic on readers and viewers since we sat around campfires and told each other stories to send chills down spines.

I like to write dark fiction. I began writing dark fiction unexpectedly. I found a market for it. I do like horror and have watched several horror movies. I study the horror movies as a way to learn how to write horror fiction.

I do not shrink from the dark side of life. I am drawn to it. I want to know what exists there, what lurks, what fears I have to conquer. I own a fake human skull, honor a dark goddess Hekate, visit cemeteries, sport black nail polish, wear skull earrings and rings, wear black and read writers like Poe and Shelley and Lovecraft. It is my life. I am a member of the Horror Writers Association.

Black draws energy in and invites spirits to interact with me. I am an aspiring paranormal investigator. But I have gotten a rap on the wrist a few times for my darker aspirations. I was criticized for wanting to write about the dark goddesses such as Hekate, wanting to include the dark gods in the tarot, or writing too darkly for some editor’s tastes. This is why I am a member of the Horror Writers Association. I feel like the association is a home, a retreat. I feel understood for why I do what I do. They understand me.

I just square my shoulders and keep typing. I just write for those who do appreciate my preferences. I keep a fake human skull on my desk or near my desk to inspire and remind me of my mortality. We as writers or artists have so much freedom within the genre to address issues or themes, especially within horror. We can demonize our fears in stories then turn away from it or stare it in the face, depending on how we feel. Stephen King faced his fears in his stories and pushed our fears in our faces, not allowing us to turn away unless we snapped the book shut or turned off the TV.

That is not why I write horror but it is a part of it. It draws me closer, it has an attraction, an animal magnetism. And now my boyfriend who is a true horror fan has refreshed the coal fire of my own love for horror. I have been writing more, sending my own writing out to editors more and watched more horror movies. The Shining was downright shocking and horrifying. I can live without ever seeing that movie again. I have read the novel twice.

Horror has enthralled people since we could sit around a fire and share stories. It continues to this day. I hope it shall bewitch and ensnare readers and viewers well into the future.

Blessings, Spiderwitch

 

 

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Filed under Paranormal and Witchy Fiction

A Horror Tale: The Grimm Pumpkin

Spooky Samhain Poetry

Merry meet all,

A group on Facebook is holding a horror story contest. The limit is 500 words. I couldn’t resist entering. So I wrote a story. I thought what relates to Halloween and is harmless? Something ordinary that no one suspects. A pumpkin, right? But to a child, a child is the character in the story, everything seems alive. So here is my story. By the way, if you are on Facebook and a member of the group Horror Writers Net, please drop by to vote for my story! There are a few days left. 

The Grimm Pumpkin 

          On the night of October 31st, a Giant pumpkin watched Tommy, Brian and Johnny throw toilet paper and eggs at peoples’ homes. Two evil eyes scowled at the costumed children with hate. The tiny nose arched between the eyes. Blood oozed down the face. The flesh curved back from the mouth, revealing smelly stringy pulp. The mouth curved back on both sides, displaying two rows of chiseled fangs. The green root lay motionless on the porch. 

            Tommy eyed the moldy glowing thing. His small hand caressed the eggs. He stared at the pumpkin in terror. He swallowed hard and glanced to see if his friends had caught up with him. They tossed toilet paper and eggs at someone’s house. Their Converse sneakers shuffled on the damp autumn leaves.

            “Hey guys, check this out. Egg it or what?” Tommy said. His best friends, Brian and Johnny, both in the same class as him, came to a dead stop.

            “Does anyone live there? Who carved the freaky pumpkin? Looks like no one’s home,” Johnny said. He peered in the bleak windows.

            “Who cares?” Tommy said. Fire flickered off of the pumpkin as Tommy approached it. He wound the toilet paper in his hand and drew his other arm back to throw the eggs. The pumpkin grimaced at the boys, as if daring them.

            “Does anyone know what happened to Michael last Halloween?” Brian asked.

            “He went missing.” Johnny said and shrugged.

            Tommy threw the eggs. They landed with a sickening splat and dripped down the house. He threw the toilet paper next. He tossed his head back and laughed. The others joined him.

            “Look at that pumpkin. It’s cool,” Brian said. Wind blew the crisp leaves on the porch. The bare tree boughs creaked. Crows cawed at the full moon.

            Brian waved his hand in front of Tommy but Tommy’s gaze remained fixed on the pumpkin. Tommy sauntered up the steps. A spider crawled down the slimy pumpkin’s face.

            “Tommy?” Johnny said, coming to stand by his side. “Earth to Tommy.” Brian and Johnny glanced at each other.

            “Let’s get out of here,” Johnny said. “We might get caught.”

            Brian checked over his shoulder and waved his hand. “Tommy? C’mon, bud.”

            Tommy was unable to tear his gaze away. Tendrils of the slimy pulp tugged on his arms and legs. The pumpkin’s maw widened. The root snatched Tommy’s leg and wound around his ankles. Tommy screamed. Brian grabbed Tommy by the arm.

            “Help him, Brian,” Johnny yelled. His eyes widened in fear.

            The pumpkin devoured Tommy whole. A horrible gurgling sound roared in the night. A terrible scream was heard from the pumpkin’s bowels.

            Johnny ran for his life. Brian stood on the sidewalk, crying. He had one last egg. He dodged the root’s vicious grasp. Brian fired. The egg cracked and spread on the pumpkin. He glanced at it one last time and ran home. Tommy was never seen again.

 

THE END

I hope you enjoy reading it. Samhain is 6 days away! Keep an eye for more posts about Samhain. 

Blessed Be,

Lady Spiderwitch )O(

 

 

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Filed under ghost stories, pumpkins, Samhain Superstition and Lore

Spooky Samhain Tail

Mist

Merry meet all,

Since you are either not brave enough or too busy to share a short horror story on my blog, I thought I would tell you all a true scary story or two. I do however, invite you all to continue sharing your terrifying tails, or tales here. You can post comments or put your story in the comment section for this post if you want. 

The stories have to be true. That is the one rule. This one is. It’s spooky. 

I was seated in the dark quiet living. Ok imagine an old Victorian home with all the spooky stuff. Ok I watched a movie and bored, I turned the movie off. I sat there quietly.  It was dark and quiet. Too quiet. I became uncannily aware that a restless earthbound spirit was behind the couch, watching me and waiting for me to be aware it was there. A dark almost formless shape. It seemed sort of human like. I sat there, still, and then got off of the couch. It came from behind the couch. Now the couch was against the wall, near large windows. The mantle and fireplace were on the other side of the room. The French doors were open (Thank the Goddess.). I got up and looked at a ghost. It was male, with a dark cloak or dark shadow around it. It’s eyes bore into my soul. I didn’t like that. Nor did I like the weird energy spreading through the room. Yikes! I had enough and fled. The spirit or whatever followed. And you think that was scary? Just wait. I fled up the large stairs to go upstairs. I felt like the Devil was on my tail. It breathed down my neck. It didn’t want me to get upstairs. My limbs felt like lead. I felt it right on my neck and had to force my body to go up the steps. I made it and as a grown woman, still ran into my Mother’s room. She is solid as a rock. I woke her up, much to her annoyance. The thing is, it followed but when I got to her room, the power of my Mom’s love halted the spook in its tracks. We said a prayer and it has not bothered me since. I will swear an oath in the courtroom that the story is true.

Please share your own terrifying bone chilling tales here!! Don’t be shy. 

 

Blessed Be,
Lady Spiderwitch )O(

 

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Filed under Traditions of Samhain, types of ghosts