Gothic Horror Story : Gothic'scary StoryTheme Terror

“There seemed to be nothing to see; no fences, no creeks or trees, no hills or fields. If there was a road, I could not make it out in the faint starlight. There was nothing but land…I had never before looked up at the sky when there was not a familiar mountain ridge against it. But this was the complete dome of heaven, all there was of it. I did not believe that my dead father and mother were watching me from up there; they would still be looking for me at the sheep-fold down by the creek…. I had left even their spirits behind me. The wagon jolted on, carrying me I knew not whither. I don't think I was homesick. If we never arrived anywhere, it did not matter. Between that earth and that sky I felt erased, blotted out. I did not say my prayers that night: here, I felt, what would be would be.” This new surrounding is the beginning of an adventure for

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

I strolled the streets, in hopes of finding a bench, or a library(because I like libraries). but then hunger ratified in my stomach like the Liberty bell chiming. Right when I decided that maybe one quick bite would not hurt, A figure walked in a rushed fashion out of a building. My curious eyes trailed up and down the towering fortress of a building, and though I could not remember the

The burning began at the earliest hour. His majesty, king of Otranto watched unsatisfied as the roaring flames licked over what was once the purest of white roses. All composure lost at but a petal unlit, he left no rose in his entire kingdom with even the dignity of coal before dismantling to ash, until alas, they were sealed to their fiery fate. The winds were still now, not even the tweak of a tree for encouragement nor the bravery of a whisper of the surrounding men as they watched in due apprehension to break the stillness. All that remained were the plumes of billowing exhaust tracing upwards into the air, and King Warner, as he watched from his throne until the smog faded into the midst. By dawn the white roses, together with any

The Gothic genre often reproduces a conservative paranoid structure when it comes to homophobia and other moral panics over sex (Hanson, Pg. 176). Eve Sedgwick depicts this in her work, ‘Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosexual Desire’ as she discusses how these ideas (paranoia) are represented within the Gothic, in what she describes as the ‘homosocial’ in reference to male bonds (Sedgwick, Pg. 86). She also discusses how bonds between men exist as the backbone of social form and forms (Sedgwick, Pg. 86). Thus, a consequence of said structure is the ability to define, control, and manipulate male bonds, which in turn becomes an inexplicably powerful instrument of social control (Sedgwick, Pg. 86). Thus, homosexuality is represented as the ‘unspeakable’ within the Gothic, as it has been defined, controlled, and manipulated to be such though social control. Therefore, this paper will discuss how ‘homosocial’ bonds between men, are used as a tool in social control and used as a way to produce paranoia and moral panic, thus in reference to the Gothic, these forms epitomize homosexuality as the ‘unspeakable,’ especially through homosexual representations within the contexts of ghosts and haunted houses.

But how it all happened to me was terrible. I was sleeping when I heard a crash from down stairs. At first I thought it was my dog running into things again but then I heard my parents screaming. I was terrified more than ever before in my life. I quickly ran into my closet where I hid behind a few boxes. I then herd steps coming up stars then in the hallway leading into my room. I could hear them at my door. All I wanted to do was scream and run but I couldn’t I was too scared to move. The

A short loud bang echoed through my ears and clumps of mud sprinkled on my pale skin like a cold shower. Edrenalin spreaded through my body faster than I could get up on my feet and look straight. The world was on mute, only a loud ringing whistle existed and it wasn't going away anytime soon. The high pitch sound was dampening and for some reason i was hoping to hear a familiar voice or sound that was of somewhat pleasing like my mother. But something more familiar started to come into reality, screaming. People were darting by me, like a sudden flash. I looked over to what they were doing, where they were going. And sure enough they were going over to the screams. A man who looked older than me was half submerged in mud and blood. He was

Hell, If I could, I would have turned right around. But I couldn’t. There was still something blocking my free will. It wanted me to go inside one of the buildings. Seconds later I feel the same force dragging me towards the A lettered building. 4 windows covered with dust shadow the view from the inside. I can barely make out the structures inside. Obviously everything was abandoned, so the sound of nothingness, not even the wind, was very eery. I arrived to the front entrance. You could clearly see how old everything was. The brick and concrete were beginning to crumble, chunks of rock falling from the building's sides. A large rusty chain was keeping the twin metal doors locked with a simple padlock on them. The rust seemed as though it was severe. A simple pull and the whole thing came apart with the lock on the ground. “How long has this been here?”, i question. Rust shouldn’t have weakened the metal that much. My legs alert me once more and I continue forward march. Through the twin doors, I was in what looked like an old, burned office. There was a receptionists desk in front of me charred black, filing cabinets all around were also charred. Everything in there was burnt to a crisp. There was no smell in there, so this was not recent. I continued up to some metal stairs which made some uneasy noises. Once up there was only one place to go, a conference room of sorts. Charred tables and chairs, but my legs keep me moving. They take me

Feelings of fear, shock, and utter abhorrence are key elements in Gothic horror literature that have frightened readers since the eighteenth century. American writer, editor, critic, and poet, Edgar Allan Poe became a highly influential figure in the world of literature and is one of the first writers to develop this genre of fiction and horror. In Poe’s popular short stories “The Fall of the House of Usher” and “The Tell-Tale Heart,” Poe can be described as a Gothic writer by exploring themes of death and darkness, madness and helplessness, supernaturalism and setting and architecture, in order to reverse the norms of rationality as illogical and unexplainable events generate fear in the reader.

E d g a r A . P o e , a n d M​ i s s P e r e g r i n e ’ s H o m e F o r P e c u l i a r C h i l d r e n ​b y R a n s o m R i g g s a l l i n c o r p o r a t e t h e thrilling elements of Gothic literature to captivate the reader.

This represents the Gothic element of a setting in a castle and gives a haunting feeling of being trapped and mystery.

John pulled up to the rocky crooked edged driveway, he left his family in the car to check the house out. He came to an old brick mansion with green dull vines like sinister snakes along the sides of the outside wall. John saw the door open automatically, his bones were rattling in his body as if they were shouting to each other. He walked up the stairs that lead in the house as they screamed to him, it was like a girl dying painfully. He stepped into the house cautiously. A laugh appeared in the hallway. It was a deep laugh as if it was echoing throughout your ears. Footsteps came towards him slowly. They were moving so sluggishly you could barely here the floorboards creaking. John’s face was as pale as a ghost. You could hear his hearts

It looked like the sun had given up on trying to break through the iron curtain of clouds that it decided to lounge behind them. As we nervously walked towards the battle of our lives, the castle silhouetted behind us like someone faintly saying goodbye. The narrow barren streets were scattered with muculent mud and broken decomposed parts of the castle lay beside it reminding us that danger was slowly approaching. The street was a skeleton, stripped of its flesh. All that remains was the broken parts of the concrete structure. Quiet and derelict. The street was a river of the rusted burnt charcoal like concrete parts of the castle. Perhaps years back this street was immersed in pools of yellow light from the assaulted street lamps. Walking past the street lamps made the scent of burnt smoke go inside me like a barren soul. The street lamps were concealing us and we were inferior to the street lamps. The street lamps were covering us with darkness reminding us of the danger ahead of

I must have dozed from exhaustion because I wasn’t sure how long I had been alone with no one in the room to attend me. Tension, oceans of it, built up fast, feeling like a pressure cooker about to explode any second. I opened my mouth to scream, but dryness and terror took my voice and no one heard the faint sound which emerged. That very moment I involuntarily began rising up from the bed and pushing downwards, my body betraying me as it tried to wrench out the invader planted there five months earlier. Gushing blood and fluid poured out from the middle of my being like water from a busted pipe, and then there it was, I could feel it, bulging and slippery, sliding out slowly at first then faster, the sheet moved and I felt something thump against my left inner thigh. I froze in the horror of it all, unable to pull the sheet aside or up to gaze beneath. One single droplet of a tear managed to fall down the side of my face, making its way across my ear consequently fading into the pillow below. I could swear I heard a crack deep inside as my heart severed into two

In this space you can feel safe. A location you can locate your attention too as often as you like. Our meeting spot for you to project your adventure from. These walls are built from the fabric of stillness, and serenity is its foundation. Also I feel it is important to mention that this castle contains all the resources you may require for your adventures. Please feel free to roam around and discover the many delights this place has to offer. We shall use some of the rooms a little later on but for now I would like to introduce myself further.