Horror is indistinct, misunderstood and often portrayed poorly.So to set the record straight, these horror writers give their definition of horror.
Horror defined by Adam Ickes:
Horror is an exploration into the dark recesses of the unknown and the misunderstood. It is a candid look at what terrifies us at a subconscious level and gives those feelings of dread and fright a face that we can relate to. Good horror blurs the lines between reality and fantasy. It makes you look into shadowy corners and wonder if you just saw something move in the blackness. It instills a sense of fear where there should be none.
He returned to the back of the truck and yanked the sheet off the girl. The stench of decomposition caught in his nostrils and brought him to a halt. He twisted his head in disgust and grabbed the side of the truck to steady himself until he could regain his composure. With a shake of his head, the compulsion to vomit faded, but the smell still lingered.
From Sins of a Father by Adam Ickes.
Horror defined by Brian Moreland:
Horror is anything that produces dread, fright or fear. It can take over your senses while watching a scary movie, reading dark fiction, or touring through a haunted house on Halloween. The adrenaline rush can be felt as a fun, exhilarating thrill-ride or so terrifying you want to crawl within yourself and hide. Horror can be a dark adversary faced in real life, such as a serial killer, the brutalities of war, or a violent accident that’s so gruesome you have to look away. It can be news that’s so shocking that time stands still. Whether in reality or through entertaining mediums of fantasy, Horror is confronting Death and all the dark emotions it brings up. For those lucky enough to survive, facing fears takes us to the pinnacle of what it feels like to be Alive.
The house that ate people stood within a coven of pine trees like an ancient god being worshipped. The high branches touched its shingled roof with reverence. Towering three stories, the rock house was far from being a flawless god. The moss-covered stones that cobbled its walls were pocked from years of rot and abandon. Fungus and creeper vines had spread across its facade, leafy tentacles invading cracks where boards covered the windows. The glass within their frames had long ago shattered. The Old Blevins House, as it came to be called, was set miles deep within the East Texas forest and rumored to be haunted.
From The Witching House by Brian Moreland
Horror defined by Clarissa Johal:
Horror knots your stomach and pulls the breath from your lips. A horror/gothic horror novel should make you look over your shoulder and ask the question, “What if?”
They were in a house. A Victorian. Fire burned in the fireplace. She could smell the burning wood. The light reflected off elaborate, but worn, wallpaper and furniture. A half-eaten biscuit lay on a delicate-looking plate. An empty teacup lay on its side. Julian took her by the hand and led her up a winding staircase. She studied him from behind. Tall and lean, he was quite broad-shouldered. Fine white hair draped across his back like silk. His form-fitting, tailored jacket hit mid-thigh, and matching black pants were tucked into knee-high leather boots. He walked with catlike grace, his boots making light sounds on the stairs.
“I shivered in my solitude, not only from the cold, but also from a growing terror. I was actually beginning to believe this superstitious nonsense on some level and could not reason myself away from it.”
From Pale Hunter by C.J. Sellers
Horror defined by K.Z. Morano:
Horror is life… or a milder reflection of it. Horror as a genre captures people’s capacity for love and hope and courage. It shows people’s will to survive under seemingly impossible circumstances. In the end, horror shows you how precious life is and it leaves you with the question of how hard are you willing to fight just to cling to it.
An eerie voice reverberated through the hallway.
Her mother was singing some strange, fragmented lullaby…
The door creaked open.
“Shhh…“ Katie’s mother warned. “You’ll wake the baby.”
Part of the blanket fell away to reveal raw turkey cradled in her mother’s arms.
She held it to her breast, lovingly patting its wet pimpled flesh.
“W-Where’s the baby?” Katie quavered.
Her mother’s face split into a demented grin. “Dinner will be ready soon.”
Slowly, numbly, Katie walked towards the kitchen. Something hissed and sputtered in the oven.
Mommy Makes Dinner (from 100 Nightmares) by K.Z. Morano
Horror defined by Lucian Barnes:
I must admit, I do not share the same sentiments as a majority of the population. If a story is written and would be considered for a PG-13 rating if a movie were made of it, in my eyes it shouldn’t be classified as horror. To me, true horror isn’t made up of situations that only make you jump a little; they make you cringe, cover your eyes, and sometimes tickle your gag reflex and make you want to vomit. In order to accomplish these things, I believe a good horror story needs to employ plays on the emotional stability of a character, a healthy dose of elements that ignite a fearful reaction in the audience, tension and unpredictability (a book is usually not very good if you can see what’s coming before it happens), and lastly, gore. There are many ways to achieve this result, whether by psychological means or the use of supernatural entities.
His dreams were very bizarre and disturbing, but from them an idea formed about how to feed his family. Why let the victims he hunted down wither and rot in the ground when they could provide his family with meat. They were already cut into pieces when he buried them and it would only be a little more work to carve the flesh from their bones.
From Destined for Darkness by Lucian Barnes
Horror defined by Thomas Amo:
Matilda could hear her father’s sobs in the distance, and it tore at her tiny heart. She slipped from under her covers, pulled her overnight case out from under the bed and opened it. Inside was Rosie’s book of witchcraft and book of spells. Matilda turned the soiled pages and looked at ink drawings of covens dancing around fires, goats being worshipped, and a faceless white creature with a single horn growing from the side of its head, until the tip of the horn, was nothing more than a wisp. Matilda stared at it for a long time. It had thin slits where its eyes should have been and no mouth. It was chained to a demon that went by the name Zagan. Matilda eyed the caption under the picture. It read: Zagan, keeper of the faceless one that does the unthinkable things death will not.
The image troubled her, as it certainly looked terrifying enough to her.
“Zagan, I wish you could help my daddy,” she whispered.
From Midnight Never Ends by Thomas Amo
Horror defined by Latashia Figueroa
Imagine you are in a small room, the lights are out and you can see nothing. Not even your own hand in front of you. You believe you are alone until you hear breathing. Your breaths become quick and shallow. The breaths you hear are slow and deep. They surround you. Your hairs become prickly, your mouth dries. And then lips land flush on yours. It is sudden. You are surprised,shocked and filled with anxiety. Before you can release a scream, a door opens. It brings forth light. It is your escape and yet you do not flee. You are both haunted and captivated by the kiss in the dark.
Every direction looked the same. The coolness of the air did not stop the sweat from pouring down his face and into his eyes. His stomach turned, his heart fluttered violently within him. He instinctively reached into his pants pocket for his cell phone but quickly remembered all cell phones had been confiscated upon arrival.
They were told “no outside distractions.” It would limit their experience here. No smart phones, or iPads, or even a camera. It was to be a weekend without distractions, a chance to focus on himself for a change and make some very necessary improvements to his life. For the past two days, he and the others had endured intense physical and spiritual labor. But it was worth it, Brad had thought. It would all pay off in the end. He had felt lucky to be here, that he had been chosen to experience this spiritual awakening.
Now, running in the woods alone, in the middle of nowhere, terror scalding him from head to toe, he didn’t feel so lucky anymore.
The Retreat (from This Way Darkness) by Latashia Figueroa