The Third Philosophy of Horror

When one hears the word ‘horror’, he may immediately think of haunted houses, ghosts, serial killers, demons, monsters, vampires, werewolves, blood, and screaming victims.  However, what one truly finds harrowing may differ from someone else’s nightmares.  For instance, some may greatly fear spiders, while others may fear something as harmless as an antique dummy.  But what can be universally understood are these two facts:

1. There are things that scare us.
2. There are things that are not supposed to be scary that scare us.

When comparing the two, think of these two scenes:

A) A brooding phantom stalking an unsuspecting explorer walking through a graveyard.
B) A clown trying to kill patrons at a carnival.

Clearly, a ghost silently following an explorer may seem typical and obvious in horror.  Likewise, a clown murdering the unwary revelers at an amusement fair seems rather cliché, especially in the 21st century.  Nevertheless, most would agree that someone who is supposed to bring laughter committing a disturbing deed at a place that is supposed to bring joy has a level of uncanniness—even if the uncanniness has diminished due this scenario being overused.

Thus, we should agree that 1) there are things that scare us and 2) there are things that are not supposed to be scary that scare us anyway.

In literature, there are stories such as Dracula, Frankenstein, The Fall of the House of Usher, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Call of Cthulhu, Salem’s Lot, and many others of this nature.  What these stories all have in common is that the general settings, themes, villains, and events are of things one would naturally find scary.  On the other hand, there are stories such as Something Wicked This Way Comes, IT, and (although a children’s novel) Night of the Living Dummy.  What these stories have in common is that they take things which are not supposed to be scary and make them scary.  Carnivals are supposed to be fun.  Clowns are supposed to make someone laugh.  And dummies are supposed to be entertaining.  Yet these authors did the exact opposite with these very successful stories.

Indeed, if it weren’t for humanity’s obsession with turning innocent and benevolent things into ingredients for unimaginable horrors, this more recent idea would not have persisted to the present day.  Of course, people still love terrifying tales of things that are most certainly supposed to cause fright.  Yet a third layer hides beneath these two—one that is often overlooked or ignored.  If one were to add this third level to the other two established ideas, it would look like this:

1. There are things that scare us.
2. There are things that are not supposed to be scary that scare us.
3. There are things that are supposed to be scary that scare us.

This is where things become slightly more complex.  Thus, let us reestablish the example scenarios:

A) A brooding phantom stalking an unsuspecting explorer walking through a graveyard.
B) A clown trying to kill patrons at a carnival.
C) A simulated haunted attraction that is actually haunted.

This is where the uncanny elements intensify further.  Let me use my own personal experience as a more elaborate example.  Please bear with me.

When I was an elementary school boy back in the mid to late 2000s, a fair would be held in my town every Labor Day weekend.  This carnival had many attractions and rides, but one in particular always seized my attention: it was a walk-thru haunted house, consisting of nothing more than an 18-wheeler trailer and an elaborately painted façade on the front.  Inside were things meant to startle patrons.  I could never tell if I would meet the unwelcoming characters painted on the front inside the attraction’s pitch-black, narrow corridors.  These memories of standing outside the haunted house and staring upon the ghastly mural have lingered with me since then.  I always knew it was a haunted house that was supposed to scare people, but my overactive imagination always questioned: was there something more to it?

Well, September 3rd, 2007 was the last time I would ever see and walk through it.  Then, 10 years later in 2017, something wonderful happened.  An indescribable obsession coursed through my veins, and I kept recalling my last memories of the attraction.  This eventually fueled my desire to write a novel about a haunted attraction at a carnival that was indeed actually haunted.  In 2018, I would write and publish Shadows On The Wall—the immortalization of that haunted haunted house at the fair.

While this is only my personal example of the third type of fear, I can think of many others: a seasonal Halloween store where the props and decorations come to life when they are purchased; a horror movie DVD that transports the viewer into the movie when he or she watches it; or even Halloween costumes that possess the person who puts them on.  These are scenarios that fall under this third category.  Fortunately, this territory is fresh and mostly uncharted.  I know I would personally love to see other authors and creators use this method on their projects.  Let it be known that a new philosophy in horror is hungry and waiting to be utilized by writers and artists alike.