Possessed

No matter how many times he entered the cellar, Don couldn't help but feel repulsed by the stench that emanated from the bodies he'd gathered and hung up. Each and every time he walked down those steps into his dungeon of sorts, the sting in his nostrils reminded him of the harsh reality of his craving and lust for violence and murder. The hanging bodies were his trophies; most devoid of blood, having had the rich red liquid drained from their bodies since his act of slaughter, only for the various marks of his kills to remain present on the torsos of his victims.

While the smell remained an unwelcome addition to his schedule, Don could not help but stare proudly at the mutilated bodies on display, all his own handy work and growing by the day. It had begun just a week ago, Don finally accepting that his life was filled with nothingness, a big blank void in the world around him and he was built for a higher calling. Ironically, he worked the graveyard shift at the power plant not far from his home, a job that required no social skills and was ultimately one for the loneliest of souls.

Whilst wandering around the premises, torch in hand, Don stared into the darkness only to be overcome by a blinding light in the distance, the sort that blurs your vision when you turn a light on after a long sleep. Quickly disappearing, the light was completely unexplainable but it maintained some sort of possession within Don, the kind that instilled a level of hatred in a man who was usually passive and kept himself to himself.

In the nights that followed, it soon became apparent that some sought after materials had been drafted in at the plant and a series of potential thieves were on the prowl to steal said items for their own personal. Little did they know that a newly formed Don was what stood between them and a potential profit, and he had no limits in delivering some good old fashioned pain their way since his experience.

This new-found violently possessed individual saw a plethora of thieves and low-lives looking to find their way past him, each sealing their impending deaths, becoming more violent with every night that passed. The first kill, one that you would imagine could cause the most angst, left Don unaffected, with the spirit inside of him leaving him devoid of any emotion as he beat the hooded individual repeatedly over the head with his baton to leave but a bloody pulp and caved in skull engulfed in blood. These weren't so much murders as they were slaughters, Don experimenting with his methods of dispatching, ranging from a fire axe to utilising the restricted toxic chemicals to sadistically torture his victims before he performed the final acts on them.

His latest victim had seen a rather sadistic end having been left with stumps for legs as Don hid in the shadows, only for the potential thief to walk by him and have his legs sliced firmly in half, leaving little more than a screaming torso in the pool of blood and severed limbs on the ground. Not content with his delivery of punishment, Don then found some pliers and proceeded to perform his own brand of dentistry, yanking the victim's teeth out one-by-one, each accompanied by a deathening squeal of pain and subsequent blood. It satisfied Don's current state of mind and concluded with the maniacal killer plunging the used pliers into the forehead of the latest in line for hell's minions.

Pliers still remaining in the forehead, the body was hung on one of the few remaining hooks left without a trophy as Don proudly stood with his arms folded, admiring his handy work. His personality change in recent times had culminated in this new tapestry of lifeless bodies, egged on by this unknown presence from within his very soul.

As he removed himself from the joy of his handy work, Don slowly made his way up the stairs to the realms of his normal home life, only to be interrupted by the crashing sound of his front door being met with metal. It was the police, obviously having finally crept up on him following his rampage of death and sadism.

"We know you're in here Don, give yourself up or we will shoot you down!"

Don's heart pounded in what was the first moment since the light incident that he had felt truly human again. He felt his whole body freeze and the air in his lungs weaken as he fell to his knees, ready to give himself up. Just as the police pushed their way through the house to find the cellar, Don felt the air released from his body and fell to the floor, blacking out...

Waking up after what seemed like an eternity, Don found himself in the premises of the power plant, the tarmac underneath his feet and the huge structures of the formidable site in front of his very eyes. He also noticed a figure, very much similar to his stature, dressed in a security guard's outfit and slowly made his way toward this unknown person. As he approached, Don suddenly realised that he wasn't quite himself and, holding up his hands, was shocked to see straight through his limbs. Don had passed over to the other side and now it was his turn to possess another unwitting victim to carry on the work of the afterlife...

Evolution Of Horror: Monster Movies Vs. Slashers

H.P. Lovecraft once said, “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”

I'm back with a rather unusual debate topic.  Monster movies vs. slashers.  Which side are you on?

When it comes to movie genres there is always a basic formula to be followed. Romantic comedies see boy meets girl, girl likes boy, funny stuff happens, boy realises he likes girl, they get together in the end. Action is always some bad guy with itchy trigger fingers and a good guy with a wise-cracking mouth that’s always a better shot.

But one genre breaks this formula and has evolved over the course of the years. From tales of monsters we all know, like The Wolfman and Frankenstein, to stories of babysitter killers and dream demons to what can only be described as torture-porn, the horror genre has change formulas for scaring audiences, each time getting bloodier and gorier.

Whenever I think of monster movies I immediately think of the old Universal films like The Invisible Man, The Wolfman,Frankenstein, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and fun movies likeGremlins and Critters. But monster movies is a rather broad subject which includes such classics as Aliens, Godzilla and The Evil Dead. Yes, that’s right. Zombie movies are considered to be part of the monster movie craze. Also included on that list are vampires. I bet you’ll never look at Twilight in the same way again.

But when it comes to slashers, mad men brandishing knives and other weapons spring to mind. Killers like Michael Myers, Freddy Krueger, Victor Crowley and Jason Voorhees represent the slasher genre, upping the body counts from previous movies and brutally tormenting their prey with long, slow stalking sequences and spine-chilling death scenes that leave an invisible scar on the psyche of audiences. Don’t believe me? Then let’s try a test. Freddy Krueger’s first victim was played by Amanda Wyss. Her name was Tina. What’s the first thing you remember about the character of Tina? For me, it’s the death scene that had Amanda Wyss thrown around the bedroom while Freddy slashed his claws across her chest and face before dropping her to the bed in a bloody mess. Rememberable? Yes. Gory? Very. Slasher movie material? Absofuckinglutely.

Alien life-forms, zombies, werewolves, vampires, demons, even human hybrids all fall under the category of movie monsters. Given the variety of monsters available to film makers, movie monsters are more popular today than ever before. But where did they all start?

The first ever movie monster was actually Quasimodo who’s better known as being the hunchback of Notre-Dame. Quasimodo made his first appearance in Victor Hugo’s novel Notre-Dame de Paris in 1831. But it was in 1906 in a little movie called Esmeralda where Quasimodo made his first on screen appearance.

German Expressionist film makers would significantly influence later films, not just the horror genre. In 1915 Paul Wegener’s silent film, The Golem, and in 1920, Robert Wiene’s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari had a particular impact on the horror genre. But it was 1922 that saw monster movies injected into society with the cult classic, Nosferatu.

In the 1930′s, the America began to screen more successful films of this type that were usually based on gothic tales such as Dracula andFrankenstein, both of which were heavily influenced by German Expressionism in 1931. From there The Mummy (1932) and The Invisible Man (1933) made their appearance. Classed as horror films, these movies included iconic monsters that are remembered and respected to this day.

When it comes to movie monsters, the only limitation is the imagination of film makers. From real life monsters like sharks, razorbacks, man-eating fish and crocodiles to mythical creatures like werewolves, dinosaurs and giant lizards that crush Tokyo, anything goes. And monsters aren’t just reserved for the horror genre either. Something like Jurassic Park I personally consider an adventure styled film, yet it brings forth one of the most recognisable creatures in dinosaurs.

So when are monster movies scary? The fear was genuine when monsters first came alive on screen. Large dogs were feared because they might be werewolves, gorilla cages were locked more securely thanks in part to King Kong, and some people with pale skin were feared as being a legion of the undead.

As movies evolved, so did the fear of movie monsters being real. In the 1950′s more monster movies were created, exercising the fear that people had in regards to a nuclear fallout. In films, the fallout from a meltdown or blast created creatures so vile and gigantic in proportions that they could rampage against the city, levelling it faster than an 9.6 magnitude earthquake.

In 1975, audiences were put through the monster movie ringer when Jaws splashed onto the big screen. Never had swimming in the ocean been more terrifying But what was most terrifying was how real it was. While Great White Sharks don’t normally grow to 25 feet in length, they can grow as big as 20 feet. What followed Jaws was an aversion to swimming in the ocean and the slaughter of sharks world wide. To this day, I have friends that won’t swim in the ocean because of that movie. Why? BecauseJaws played on a real fear. Forget movie monsters that are made-up and a fake as a politician’s handshake. Jaws was real. Sharks are real. Shark attacks are real. Jaws just put them on the map.

Ever since Jaws, there has been an influx of ‘real’ monster movies. Piranha in ’79, Alligator in ’80, Rogue in ’07. Animal related horror movies were all the rage, with no animal safe from the warped and creative minds that bring us sheer terror. Dogs were targeted with movies like Cujo and The Pack. Crocodiles and their cousin, the alligator, were snapping at the heels of movie goers. Even a giant boar in Razorback was considered a monster of the screen. Cats were considered terrifying long before sharks were thanks to movies like Cat People and The Black Cat. Regardless of species of animal, thanks to horror, it could become a monster.

Between the early 80′s and now, monster movies have returned to the monsters of old. Vampires and werewolves are big thanks to films like the Twilight series,Interview With A Vampire, An American Werewolf In London and even the hit TV show Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Zombies are back thanks to movies like theResident Evil series, Night Of The Living Dead and the popular Zombieland. They even have their own TV show with The Walking Dead. But don’t disregard animal monsters just yet. In 2010 Piranha was redone, giving new meaning to blood bath, while an Australian film by the name of The Reef took the most terrifying creature in the ocean (Great White) and made it popular, and feared, once again.

And judging by what’s in production at this moment in time, monster movies will remain popular for many more years to come.

The definition of slasher film is a movie typically involving a psychopathic killer stalking and killing a sequence of victims in a graphically violent manner, often with some form of cutting tool like a knife or axe.

Although the term ‘slasher’ may be used as a generic term for any horror movie involving a psychopath and graphic acts of murder, the slasher as a genre has its own set of characteristics which sets it apart from related sub-genres of horror like the splatter film.

The birth of the slasher genre is often accredited to Halloween in 1978. However some horror fans deem Black Christmas in 1974 to be the start of the slasher genre as it presented some of the sub-genre’s characteristics such as a mysterious stalker, a set of adolescent or young adult victims, a secluded location with little or no adult supervision, point-of-view camera shots representing the “killer’s perspective,” and graphic violence and murder. (Fun Fact: Black Christmas was remade in 2006)

Now, if you are an avid reader of my past articles or my blog, you know that I am a huge Halloween fan. But for me, the birth of the slasher genre started in 1960 with Alfred Hitchcock’s, Psycho.

Following the pattern set by slashers, Psycho introduced us to some of the characteristic that Black Christmas used. The setting for The Bates Motel was remote and secluded. The killer was mysterious even though they were referred to as ‘Mother’ and during the infamous shower sequence, we see the killer approach from their point of view. However, rather than using young teens or college students, Psycho used older actors.

Despite the slight differences in characteristics, Psycho remains one of horror’s greatest films of all time with one of the most infamous scenes in cinematic history. (Fun Fact: After filming Psycho, Janet Leigh refused to take showers, preferring the safety of her bathtub) So, if they changed what is ideally the formula for slashers, why do I deem Psycho to be the birth of the slasher genre? Simple. Psycho has left an invisible scar on the psyche of all who viewed it. The death of such a high profile star in Janet Leigh so early on in the film still shocks many viewers. My mother still won’t watch this film because, quote, “There’s something so unnerving about it.” And above all, Psycho gave us something to really fear; Man.

The fear that Psycho installed was genuine terror. Norman Bates was young, handsome and little socially awkward. Not one person viewing that movie for the first time would have thought that he was behind the murders. That genuine fear is what has ultimately lead to some of horror’s biggest villains.

In 1978, the slasher genre got a new contender in the villain stakes. Michael Myers of Haddonfield, Illinois, picked up a knife at the age of 6, and doesn’t look like he’s putting it down any time soon. To this day, Michael Myers is still one of the most feared, and talked about, movie villains. He was an unstoppable force of nature, the first of his kind. But what made him scary was how human-like he was. To quote director and co-writer, John Carpenter, “To make Michael Myers frightening, I had him walk like a man, not a monster.”

Two years later at Camp Crystal Lake, Mrs. Pamela Voorhees stood up for women killers everywhere by getting even with a group of camp councillors. But a year later, her son, Jason, took over the Friday the 13th series and has become one of the biggest horror icons of all time. Not to mention Jason also holds the record for most number of sequels and largest body count.

In 1984 the slasher genre got a new bad guy in dream demon, Freddy Krueger. Freddy slashed and slaughtered his way to cult icon status, even coming head to head with Jason in 2003. While Michael Myers was still considered a man, Jason and Freddy had an element of the supernatural aiding them. Freddy was a dream demon, able to change his shape at will, even change into other people while his main victim was in the land of nod while Jason became an unstoppable force, much like Michael, although one difference was Jason was already dead.

The 80′s were renown for slasher films. Some tried their hand at creating a series, but nothing could compete with Halloween, Friday the 13th and Nightmare On Elm Street. Random slasher movies included The Prowler,My Bloody Valentine, Happy Birthday To Me and April Fool’s Day, just to name a few. While these films aren’t as memorable as their more successful counterparts., they are still enjoyable to watch if you’re just after some blood, guts and gore.

Like with monster movies, nothing was safe from slashers. It didn’t matter if you were black, Asian, white, gay or straight. It didn’t matter if you were skinny, large, male, female or transgender. No one was safe from the maniac brandishing a weapon. If you were in the way, you were as good as dead.

In the 90′s the slasher genre was still going strong. A Fisherman with a hook for a hand reminded everyone what they did last summer, while a jilted boyfriend decided to place a phone call and ask, “What’s your favourite scary movie?” While I Know What You Did Last Summer placed a direct sequel aptly titled I Still Know What You Did Last Summer, it wasn’t an overall success. (It also spurned a direct to DVD sequel starring none of the original cast entitled I’ll Always Know What You Did Last Summer – Don Shanks who played Michael Myers in Halloween 5: The Revenge Of Michael Myers took over for Muse Watson as The Fisherman) The crown for the slashers in the 90′s went to Scream which initially produced a rarity in the horror field; A trilogy. That was before 2011 when Wes Craven decided it was time to bring Ghostface back with Scream 4.

So when are slashers scary? When there is a genuine reason to be scared. When something happens on screen that could very well happen in your town, neighbourhood, street.

As for the big three: While dream demons are real in some cultures, for me they don’t exist so I don’t fear Freddy. Jason is nothing more than an unstoppable zombie.

As for Michael, it has been proved in the past that when adrenalin kicks in, people seem to possess superhuman strength. It is also been proven in psychological studies that people who are crazed also possess this strength and often don’t feel any pain. Let’s just assume that Michael Myers is still a man with no supernatural elements aiding him against his prey, then it could be argued that he is just 100% insane which not only gives him the strength that he possess but also the capability not to feel pain which, in turn, would see him live through some extraordinary circumstances.

Norman Bates is terrifying because he simply looks ‘normal’ and causes no alarm. Just like actual serial killer, Ted Bundy, Norman’s good-looks and shy personality don’t raise any red flags and people feel comfortable in his presence.

So which is better: Monster movies verses slashers?

Both sub-genres install a certain amount of fear and both are as popular today as they were when they first surfaced. Monster movies of old, like The Invisible Man, were given modern make overs (Hollow Man starring Kevin Bacon) or completely redone, like The Mummy, revamping what had come before and breaking box office records.

Slashers are still popular and most people look to the slasher genre when starting their film careers, hoping to capitalise on what lurks beneath the surface of an ordinary man or, in some cases, woman.

The fact is there is no separating these two sub-genres. However, when it comes to both slashers and monster movies, the key to scaring the heck out of an audiences is realism. A shark movie will create more of a horrified reaction from movie-goers than a werewolf or zombie movie, simply because werewolves and zombies do not actually exist. The same goes with slashers. A disfigured, hillbilly psycho, while terrifying in the kill (and looks) department will not be able to beat the underlining fear that is ensured from a boy-next-door killer.

Regardless of your preference of sub-genre, one thing is certain. Every horror movie ever made has its fair share of monsters. Jaws is a monster as is The Creature From The Black Lagoon. Jason Voorhees is a monster and so his rival Michael Myers. Man or beast, it doesn’t matter, for every horror film is possessed by a monster.

Humans Can Lick Too

Ever since she was little, Joanne Gibson had been afraid of the dark. 

By the time she was eleven, her parents had tried everything they could think of to help her get over her phobia.  They bought her a nightlight but Joanne made them take it back when the scary shadows in her room came to life.  They tried placing an aquarium in her room, but the movement of the water and the colorful fish kept her awake.  They even tried a hypnotist but that failed too.

In desperation, her parents dragged her to a sleep clinic in hopes that they could provide some answers.  After hooking Joanne up to multiple machines to read her brainwaves while she slept the so-called sleep experts were stumped as to why she was so afraid to close her eyes in a completely dark room.

Upon leaving the clinic, they were approached by one of the orderlies.  He suggested that they buy Joanne a puppy that could sleep beside her bed and reassure her that everything was alright.

“After all, if a dog senses something isn’t right, they’re usually the first to react,” he said, explaining that his sister was also afraid of the dark.

Later that day, Mr. and Mrs. Gibson went to the local pound and picked up a puppy for their daughter.

Coyote was a German Shepherd pup that was slightly deaf in his left ear.  When his owners discovered this, they dumped him at the shelter, not content with a dog that was less than perfect.  But as a nighttime companion for Joanne, Coyote was perfect.

That night, with her new friend by her side, Joanne climbed into bed.  Her parents kissed her good night and told her that Coyote would keep her safe throughout the night.  Joanne nodded and watched with trepidation as her parents turned out the light and closed her bedroom door.

Her window was open slightly and a breeze took a hold of the curtain, blowing it gently aside allowing the light from next door to shine through the trees, creating an eerie silhouette on the wall of Joanne’s bedroom.

The frightened girl closed her eyes and ducked under the blankets.  Fearing the worst, Joanne reached out with one shaking hand and patted Coyote.  The loveable pup licked her hand, assuring her that she was safe. 

This continued until Joanne was ready to leave home for college.  Coyote, though partially deaf, had adapted his hearing and was just as alert as any other dog.  He would often cock his head to one side and just listen.  Joanne hadn’t quite grown out of her fear of the dark so she managed to rent a house near the college campus that allowed pets.

She kissed her parents goodbye before loading Coyote into the passenger seat.

The house was old with creaking floorboards and no central heating.  But to Joanne it didn’t matter.  She was living on her own. 

That night, after spending most of the afternoon unpacking, Joanne curled up on her mattress with her sleeping bag and Coyote by her side.  She patted the head of her now seven year old dog.  “Tomorrow, my new bed gets delivered,” she told him, yawning, and her eyes closed.

The next morning, once her bed had been delivered and she had managed to have a shower, Joanne took Coyote for a walk around the neighborhood. 

She walked down Main Street before turning off at a park.  The overgrown trees provided shade and there were a couple of park benches around a kid’s playground. 

Joanne sat down atop a large grassy hill, taking in the sights around her.  Coyote sat by her side, head cocked, tongue hanging out, panting loudly.

“GRRRRRRR.”

Joanne snapped out of her daydream when Coyote began growling.

A man stood on the path at the bottom of the hill, hand above his eyes, shielding them from the sun.  He was staring right at her.  Coyote bared his teeth, the hair on the back of his neck standing to attention.

The man lowered his hand.  Though she couldn’t see his face, Joanne knew he was older than her.  He was slim with dark hair.

“Pick up after your mutt!” he shouted at her before turning to walk off.

Joanne flipped him off before turning to Coyote.  “Come on, boy.  Let’s go home.”

Every day after that, Joanne would take Coyote back to the park for a run and a game of ball.  That same man was there, muttering to himself and watching her intently.  He always stood far away so Joanne couldn’t see the features of his face, but she always left the park as soon as she spotted him.  Coyote didn’t like him and Joanne didn’t want a lawsuit on her hands should he try to take a chunk out of the mysterious foul-tempered man.

About two weeks later, after dinner of Chinese takeout, Joanne put the finishing touches on her new home while Coyote watched from the doorway.  As she put the small photo of her mother and father over the mantle of the fireplace he suddenly sprung to attention, barking wildly and running towards the back door.

“Coyote!”

Joanne chased after him, opening the back door so he could run outside.  Coyote sprinted to the driveway and the gate.  It was banging in the nighttime winds.

Sighing, Joanne made her way across the lawn and latched the gate closed.  She rubbed Coyote’s head playfully.  “I don’t care what anyone says, you have perfect hearing,” she teased.  Coyote barked and ran his tongue over her cheek.

A drop of water bounced off her head followed closely by another.

Joanne turned her attention to the sky and made a break for the back door, calling Coyote to follow.  She closed the door, locking it as he ran passed her.

Grabbing a spare towel from the bathroom, Joanne quickly dried him off, cleaned up the remains of her dinner and stripped off her clothes in favor of one of her father’s oversized t-shirts that she had grown accustom to wearing at night.

Coyote settled himself down beside her bed as Joanne grabbed her glass of water before crawling into the bed.  She snuggled down under the covers as the thunder outside rumbled and the wind howled.

Her hand fell down off the top of the covers and felt Coyote’s warm tongue lap at it.  Feeling reassured, Joanne rolled over and soon fell asleep.

A loud bang had her sitting up.  Lighting lit up the room and the thunder crackled loudly.  Joanne reached down and Coyote’s tongue ran over the flesh of her hand once again.  She settled herself back down telling herself that it was just a storm.  Coyote wasn’t bothered by it, why should she be?

As she tossed and turned a new noise began assaulting her ears.  It was a slow, steady dripping.  At first it didn’t bother her as Coyote continued to lick her hand everytime she slid it down towards him.  But after a couple of hours, Coyote had stopped.

Joanne sat up.  The dripping sound was slow and steady.  She hoped that her roof hadn’t sprung a leak as she didn’t have the money to fix it.  She climbed out of bed, her bare feet thudding softly across the wooden floorboards. 

She reached the kitchen and peered through the window.  Coyote wasn’t in the backyard so he hadn’t gone outside.

The wind howled.  Joanne reached down and turned the tap at the sink.  No, the dripping sound wasn’t coming from there. 

She walked around her house, looking for pools of water on the ground.  After thirty minutes she concluded that she was hearing things and that her roof wasn’t leaking.

Joanne climbed back into bed and settled back down. 

Ten minutes later she sat up again.  That dripping noise was back, and if possible, louder than before.

Tossing the covers off Joanne cursed to herself.  She had searched the house for a leaky roof, but hadn’t bothered going into the bathroom to check the taps. 

She rubbed her eyes, yawning, as she opened the bathroom door. 

“I’ll tighten the tap then go back to bed.  I have an early class,” she told herself, letting out another loud yawn.  Her hand reached for the shower curtain and gave it one swift tug.

Joanne’s eyes grew wide, her mouth falling open in a silent scream.  Hanging from the shower head was Coyote.  He had been savagely butchered, his body gutted and his neck broken.

Feeling the vomit rise in her throat, Joanne was stunned by what she saw as a flash of lightening lit up the small bathroom.

Joanne screamed, sprinting from the room.  She slipped and slid down the hallway before scrambling to her feet again.  She lunged for the phone and called the police.

One ring.

“Come on.  Come on,” she urged.

Two rings.

Joanne bit her finger nail, ripping it down to the quick.

Three rings.

A dripping sound from behind her caught her attention. 

With the phone still pressed against her ear, Joanne turned slowly.  Another flash of lightening lit up the room and in the briefest of moments she saw the gleam of a bloody butcher knife. 

Terrified she glanced up at the menacing man.  His cold, dark eyes stared back at her.  It was the thin man from the park.

Joanne opened her mouth and screamed as he raised the butcher knife high in the air.

*     *     *     *     *

When the police arrived they were shocked by the violence that had taken place.  Joanne’s body had been staged for them, hanging from a ceiling fan, her torso was guttered and her neck was broken. 

“Detectives!  You need to see this!”

The two detectives followed the officer down the hall and into the bathroom.

“Oh God,” said Detective Matthews, holding a hand over his mouth. 

He turned towards the toilet, his eyes growing wide as his stomach tightened into knots.

Written on the mirror in Coyote’s blood were the words “Humans Can Lick Too.”