By: Grainne Rhuad After hours of watching blood, guts, extreme close ups of god knows what and artistical use of colour, I have come to a conclusion about Horror this season. Makers of Horror are getting lazy. There is a terrifying trend in the Horror genre to try to re-create what the writer/directors feel would…
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Grainne Rhuad- South Park Colorado has its share of tales of the weird, odd and haunted.
Bill The Butcher- The Grim Rippers is not your normal bike club.
Mike- I was almost knocked down by a man in dark flowing clothing riding a large black horse. He was traveling at a great gallop along my side of the road. As I stood there, another three horsemen came riding up and passed me as if in pursuit of the
A.B. Thomas- It had been a warm spring night four years ago, half drunk, stumbling home from a high school party, Leanne had opted to cut through the trail that ran along the river bank that paralleled the windy road. The spruce trees that lined either
Bill the Butcher- And anyway, your troubles are nothing compared to mine. All you’ve had is a broken chair. I’ve been kicked out of heaven.
Savannah Thorne- There was something deep to voodoo, something that spoke to him in sparks of his blood. He wished he knew its secrets. It called to him, wanting him to follow the intricate tracery of its veins, to be lost in its shadows and never come back.
Bill The Butcher- And of the Creature we had created, and which my wife’s foul deeds caused to escape? Ah…we searched for it, you understand, Count, we hunted for it with torches and shotguns and dogs, but of it we found no sign.
Savannah Thorne- There were so many stories about the graveyard: It was haunted, Satanists sacrificed animals there, strange lights had been seen and tinkling noises heard. It had attained a mythic status not just in my neighborhood; the whole