Charles Dickerson's Greatest Fears

The wild thing was locked up in it’s cell, it was shrieking and trying to break out of its straitjacket, I wasn’t even sure it was human. I was a guard that year, not long ago, working for The Beechworth Lunatic Asylum and my experience there was above frightening, in fact, it was like living in hell. I had to hear the cries and psychotic shouting everyday and it only got worse at night. The scariest thing I had to deal with was a patient who was known to be one of the top most wanted psychopathic murderers of the time. Nobody knew anybody about him. It was reported by his neighbors, in the daylight that some of the orphan children in the area disappeared and at night, they could hear muffled cries of the same children but when the police came into his house, there was no evidence. They searched in the boards of the house, in the attic, whatever you can name, they have already searched it and not a single piece of evidence. He had pale white face, dark black noodle hair clinging onto the front of his head and permanent burnt dark red lips up till his cheeks, sort of like the joker in Batman except way creepier and small eye pupils but a huge gap of sclera. He had no family, friends, not even a name so for a while he wasn’t even labeled a human being. “Jeff” was a nickname given to him by the asylum because he often mumbled the name. Some think it's a victim of his, but not just any ordinary victim, it could be one of his loved ones.

The night drew closer around the individuals who, some in dreams, some in panic, seemed to react to impending danger and turned, some to nightmares, some to an eerie calm, as those on death row that accepted their demise for what it was, an abrupt shattering of their existence. Be that as it may, however, some did not wish to go so simply. While some wished for a calm ending, but embraced nevertheless a less subtle end, that of fire and mutilation, others feared it for what it was, or what it could be. Some feared being lost, trapped in a dungeon of previously sound architecture, to watch the edges of their vision turn to the blackness of

“THERE WAS NO PEACE for me that night, no escape. My nightmares were more intense than usual. It seemed like I was jerked awake every few minutes, terrorized by things only I could see but couldn't explain. Things like the windshield wipers going so fast they were almost invisible. A weight pinning me down so I couldn’t move no matter how hard I fought. Screams - I thought they were my own. But there were other screams too. And faces, they felt familiar, though I wasn’t totally sure. From nowhere, an unknown face, an old face. Noises so loud they made my heart stop” (Harrington 44).

Often times unknowing can cause terrible fear, sometimes it also is too late just like in Julio Cortazar’s short story “House Taken Over”. For example, in Cortazar story “House Taken Over” he describes that a brother and a sister that lived in a family house that has been in there family for years, is being

Discuss Lovecraft’s description of the house over the course of the story. Be sure to include details from the beginning middle and end of the story.

The house feels much like people feel when things or people leave their lives; empty, alienated, and sorrowful. The house is almost jealous that the man left to paint other houses and towns because it only cements the fact that this house is not “good enough” to be painted and to keep the interest of a painter because it is nothing special. The last three lines tie the feelings of the house to the feelings of humans in that the house feels sorrow just as people do and it mourns the loss of friendship and relations in general. The house anticipated and will always anticipate that the person in its life for the time will not stay because they never do. The house again blames this fact that no one stays around it to the originality of its design and how because of its originality, it is somewhat awkward or weird. This is true for people too because many are trying to fit into a certain social norm that is accepted by society and if you don’t fir in this box then you are an outsider and are alienated just because they are a little different and do not conform to what everyone around them is doing or saying or

As the reader reads through the story, they may quickly realize that there will never be a human character, but rather the house is the main character. Ray Bradbury is such a talented writer that he persuades the reader into having feelings of concern towards the house as a fire starts from a tree that crashes through its window. “‘Fire!’ screamed a voice. The house lights flashed, water pumps shot water from the ceilings. But the solvent spread on linoleum, licking, eating under the kitchen door while the voices took it up in chorus: ‘Fire, fire, fire!’” The house’s voice adds to the persuasion of the reader into believing that the house is alive and that it itself has feelings. The edge-of-your-seat suspense continues. “And then, reinforcements. From the attic trapdoors, blind robot faces peered down with faucet mouths gushing green chemical. The fire backed off, as even an elephant must at the sight of a snake. Now there were twenty snakes whipping over the floor, killing the fire with a clear cold venom of green froth.” The author so cleverly personifies this scene, referring to tubes of fire repellant as snakes slithering across the floor, killing the

One-thirty on a Thursday morning. I laid in bed worrying, after watching John rush to Main Street for a fire call. My head spun as the pager near my head continued to dispatch calls. “Be careful on the roof Watson, I can see light through,” Feltner’s voice echoed. Ambulance sirens boomed down a four-block stretch of Main Street. My body sprung from the bed and hurried out and down the block. My face began to fill with heat. Just then another page came through, “I know idiot, I put it there.” It was John’s voice. I felt relief and began to walk back down the sidewalk to our home. I heard a young girl screaming for her dog, hysterically. Finally, back in my house, I completely forgot that I had left the two girls upstairs. Thankfully,

As he tours the house, the stranger eerily remarks on the differences between the house as he knew it and its current state, hinting at an violent, abusive childhood through the way he discusses his past. For instance, the narrator is overjoyed to see the window seat intact, remarking, “This was one of my happy places! At least when Father wasn’t home (72)”; this comment suggests that his father abused him during his childhood. The man and his wife become unnerved by the man’s comments, and when they force him to leave, he bursts into tears and begs to see the basement. After the man is evicted from the house, the house begins to change, “beating with a pulse of mute rage”. The husband and wife suddenly gain violent tendecies, and the story ends on a cliffhanger as the wife threatens her husband. The stranger’s fear of moving on from his childhood past and anger of being evicted from his childhood home transforms the house to reflect the vehemence of the couple, emphasizing the changes in the characters’ personalities throughout the

In Stephen King’s classic 1977 horror novel, The Shining, the Torrance family’s limits are tested as they are sent to the Overlook Hotel and face the brink of isolation. Jack, Wendy and Danny all start to break down from the isolation in their own individual ways. Eventually, similar to other works of literature written by Stephen King, the Torrances reach a breaking point. Though the three of them all go through different horrors in the novel, all of their troubles trace back to the theme of isolation. This sense of being alone in the world, whether it be not having anyone around or mentally being detached from reality, can be one of the most horrifying things in one’s life. In The Shining, added to the detachment from society and humanity, the supernatural lurks as well. This supernatural presence only adds to the fear of being stranded for a few months. The mind tends to over think in times of isolation and despair, jumping to horrifying possible outcomes. This could surely be the reason Stephen King and other writers of horror novels use the theme of isolation. Using references from articles and literary criticisms such as “The American Culture of Horror: Folklore and Stephen King” by Stu Horvath, “Isolation and Horror” by Kevin Bufton, “Horror In American Literature” by Richard Matheson and “The Overlook was at Home with the Dead” can prove isolation is a commonly used theme in American horror

As I walked, the air of this haunted, dreadful and sorrowful land had sucked the life out of everything and roared as humanity began to disappear. As I carried on walking, I noticed that the small fraction of light was getting smaller and smaller, until it had been engulfed into a think black ash like smoke. Aggressively, the wind walked past the building with its cruddy feeling, blowing away all signs of life. Deeper and deeper into the land was a burning car door. The fire roared and crackled. The roaring and crackling of the burning car door merged with the aggressive air and created the loudest sounds ever heard on land. Growing darker, the skies made me feel nauseous. The fear of not waking up if a human fell asleep towered

At night, beyond the public eye, the rooftop comforts me, provides me a my safe haven. I hear the wind whispering my name to escape: but I do not listen. Being in my own world ushers a feeling of fright, yet also comes as a relief. With no one there to judge me; I sit alone, with the company of my inner demons.. I close my eyes, my demons have assailed me all day, midnight is their time. The void of judgment has remained. It’s dark, but at the end you see a flash of light. So, I walk in the obesity of my mind where the darkness has taken over. The sense of being paralyzed comes to my mind, my fears are woken up and the sense of neglect is off. I smell fear all around. I do not smell the smoke from the burning wood I left. The smell of fear and sweat are much more dominant,I feel my hands are getting sweaty, my body frozen, paralyzed. My heart beats faster than ever before. My Demons have become vigorous. An explosion of fear, rage, sadness and anxiety overwhelms me, but I cannot wake up. Powerless, my demons pull me into the darkest depths of my mind where I try to hold on for dear mercy.

One of the elements of gothic literature evident in this story is the setting it takes place in. On the very first page of the story, the home is described as an “ancestral hall.” In gothic literature, the settings are usually old, dim places. Such as dungeons, monasteries, and mansions. Later, it is described as a “colonial mansion,” and a “haunted house.” These descriptions do clearly match that of typical gothic literature. This element contributes an eeriness to the story, as we imagine this dark, haunted mansion that our narrator is locked up in, with no escape. Which deeply contributes to this disturbed story.

It was the summer of 1983; I was reading my first Horror novel by Jay Anson “The Amityville Horror”, it was the scariest thing I had ever picked up. Despite the late hours I continued to read into the early morning hours until my eyes burned for relief. Whenever I got up to use the rest room I would stand on the end of my bed lean over and open the door and jump so not to be grabbed by monsters that might be laying in wait under my bed. This started a long love affair for horror stories.

The wind howled outside warning us of the bitter cold that waited for us outside. The sky was starting to turn dark and the outside world became scarier compared to the warmth of the fireplace before me, it was crackling and spitting out little pieces of burnt wood but they couldn’t make it past the glass panel. Within minutes everyone was piled in the room talking and chatting about how scary it was going to be tonight. As a group of stupid high school kids we decided to go out to haunted road that lays right outside the village we all call home. We decided to meet at my house, mainly because my parents are never home and I live the closest. After 10 minutes of chatting we all piled into vehicles and headed for the abandoned road. There is a story that goes along with this road. Back in the 1890’s there was an old farmer that lived at the end of the road with his wife and 3 children, he was a scary old man people say, someone you wouldn’t dare to speak back too. One halloween night a couple of teenagers decided to play a prank on the old farmer and his family but it ended horribly. The farmer thought that the kids were trying to endanger his family and ended up killing one of the youngest people in the group. It was said that after that night he changed into a completely different person, he was cold and scarier than before. He went into the little village tavern and drank every night, the people told him that he was just protecting his family but he continued to drown