Horror Authors Share the Most Frightening Tales They've Ever Read
A Renowned Horror Author
A Chilling Tale by a master of suspense
I read this tale long ago and it has haunted me since then. The titular “summer people” happen to be a couple from New York, who lease an identical isolated country cottage annually. During this visit, in place of going back to the city, they opt to prolong their stay a few more weeks – a decision that to disturb everyone in the adjacent village. Each repeats the same veiled caution that no one has lingered at the lake after the holiday. Even so, the Allisons are resolved to stay, and that is the moment situations commence to become stranger. The person who brings fuel refuses to sell to the couple. Not a single person will deliver supplies to the cottage, and when the Allisons attempt to travel to the community, their vehicle won’t start. A tempest builds, the batteries within the device die, and with the arrival of dusk, “the elderly couple huddled together inside their cabin and anticipated”. What might be they anticipating? What do the residents know? Every time I revisit Jackson’s chilling and influential story, I’m reminded that the finest fright originates in what’s left undisclosed.
Mariana Enríquez
Ringing the Changes by Robert Aickman
In this concise narrative a couple travel to an ordinary coastal village in which chimes sound the whole time, a perpetual pealing that is annoying and inexplicable. The opening very scary episode happens during the evening, as they decide to go for a stroll and they can’t find the ocean. The beach is there, there’s the smell of putrid marine life and salt, there are waves, but the sea appears spectral, or a different entity and even more alarming. It is simply profoundly ominous and every time I travel to the shore in the evening I think about this narrative which spoiled the beach in the evening in my view – favorably.
The newlyweds – the woman is adolescent, he’s not – head back to the inn and learn the reason for the chiming, in a long sequence of enclosed spaces, gruesome festivities and demise and innocence intersects with dance of death bedlam. It’s an unnerving meditation on desire and decay, a pair of individuals aging together as partners, the bond and violence and gentleness in matrimony.
Not merely the scariest, but perhaps one of the best short stories out there, and a personal favourite. I read it in Spanish, in the first edition of this author’s works to be published in this country several years back.
A Prominent Novelist
A Dark Novel from an esteemed writer
I read this narrative beside the swimming area in the French countryside a few years ago. Although it was sunny I sensed a chill over me. Additionally, I sensed the thrill of fascination. I was working on my third novel, and I faced an obstacle. I was uncertain if it was possible an effective approach to craft some of the fearful things the story includes. Reading Zombie, I saw that it could be done.
Published in 1995, the book is a bleak exploration within the psyche of a murderer, the protagonist, based on Jeffrey Dahmer, the murderer who killed and dismembered numerous individuals in Milwaukee over a decade. As is well-known, this person was fixated with producing a zombie sex slave who would never leave with him and carried out several grisly attempts to accomplish it.
The actions the book depicts are terrible, but similarly terrifying is the mental realism. The character’s awful, fragmented world is simply narrated using minimal words, names redacted. You is immersed trapped in his consciousness, forced to witness mental processes and behaviors that appal. The foreignness of his mind feels like a physical shock – or getting lost on a barren alien world. Going into this book is less like reading and more like a physical journey. You are absorbed completely.
Daisy Johnson
A Haunting Novel by Helen Oyeyemi
When I was a child, I was a somnambulist and subsequently commenced having night terrors. Once, the fear involved a dream in which I was confined in a box and, as I roused, I realized that I had ripped a part out of the window frame, trying to get out. That building was decaying; when it rained heavily the ground floor corridor became inundated, maggots came down from the roof on to my parents’ bed, and once a large rat scaled the curtains in the bedroom.
Once a companion gave me the story, I was no longer living at my family home, but the tale regarding the building perched on the cliffs appeared known to me, nostalgic as I felt. It is a book featuring a possessed noisy, atmospheric home and a female character who eats chalk from the shoreline. I loved the book so much and went back again and again to it, each time discovering {something