Horror Writers Discuss the Scariest Narratives They've Ever Read
A Renowned Horror Author
The Summer People by Shirley Jackson
I read this story long ago and it has stayed with me from that moment. The titular “summer people” happen to be a family from the city, who rent a particular remote country cottage annually. On this occasion, instead of returning home, they decide to extend their stay an extra month – something that seems to disturb each resident in the adjacent village. Everyone conveys a similar vague warning that not a soul has ever stayed at the lake beyond Labor Day. Regardless, they are determined to stay, and at that point things start to grow more bizarre. The person who delivers fuel declines to provide for them. Nobody will deliver food to the cabin, and when the Allisons endeavor to travel to the community, the automobile refuses to operate. Bad weather approaches, the energy in the radio diminish, and when night comes, “the elderly couple crowded closely within their rental and anticipated”. What could be this couple anticipating? What do the townspeople know? Each occasion I read Jackson’s disturbing and thought-provoking tale, I recall that the top terror originates in what’s left undisclosed.
Mariana Enríquez
An Eerie Story from Robert Aickman
In this brief tale a pair travel to an ordinary coastal village where church bells toll continuously, a constant chiming that is annoying and unexplainable. The first truly frightening episode occurs after dark, as they opt to walk around and they can’t find the sea. There’s sand, there is the odor of decaying seafood and brine, surf is audible, but the ocean is a ghost, or another thing and more dreadful. It is truly deeply malevolent and whenever I travel to the shore after dark I recall this story that destroyed the beach in the evening in my view – positively.
The newlyweds – the woman is adolescent, the husband is older – return to the hotel and find out why the bells ring, during a prolonged scene of enclosed spaces, necro-orgy and demise and innocence intersects with dance of death bedlam. It’s an unnerving meditation regarding craving and decline, two people maturing in tandem as a couple, the connection and aggression and tenderness within wedlock.
Not only the most terrifying, but likely among the finest short stories in existence, and an individual preference. I encountered it in the Spanish language, in the initial publication of these tales to be released in this country several years back.
Catriona Ward
A Dark Novel from Joyce Carol Oates
I perused this narrative near the water in the French countryside a few years ago. Even with the bright weather I experienced an icy feeling within me. I also felt the excitement of excitement. I was composing a new project, and I encountered a wall. I didn’t know if it was possible a proper method to compose some of the fearful things the story includes. Going through this book, I saw that there was a way.
First printed in the nineties, the book is a bleak exploration within the psyche of a criminal, Quentin P, inspired by a notorious figure, the murderer who killed and mutilated multiple victims in a city over a decade. As is well-known, this person was consumed with producing a compliant victim who would never leave by his side and carried out several horrific efforts to achieve this.
The acts the novel describes are appalling, but equally frightening is the mental realism. The protagonist’s terrible, broken reality is directly described using minimal words, details omitted. You is immersed trapped in his consciousness, forced to witness ideas and deeds that shock. The strangeness of his thinking feels like a physical shock – or finding oneself isolated on a desolate planet. Starting this book is not just reading but a complete immersion. You are consumed entirely.
Daisy Johnson
A Haunting Novel from a gifted writer
During my youth, I sleepwalked and eventually began suffering from bad dreams. Once, the fear involved a vision in which I was confined in a box and, when I woke up, I found that I had torn off a piece out of the window frame, seeking to leave. That building was crumbling; when it rained heavily the ground floor corridor became inundated, insect eggs dropped from above into the bedroom, and on one occasion a sizeable vermin ascended the window coverings in that space.
Once a companion gave me the story, I had moved out at my family home, but the story about the home located on the coastline seemed recognizable to me, homesick as I was. This is a book concerning a ghostly clamorous, sentimental building and a female character who eats calcium from the cliffs. I loved the novel deeply and returned frequently to its pages, always finding {something