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Andrew Michael Hurley

A Chilling Tale by Shirley Jackson

I read this tale some time back and it has haunted me since then. The titular vacationers turn out to be a couple from New York, who occupy a particular off-grid lakeside house annually. During this visit, instead of returning to urban life, they opt to prolong their holiday for a month longer – something that seems to alarm all the locals in the surrounding community. All pass on a similar vague warning that not a soul has lingered in the area past Labor Day. Regardless, the couple are determined to not leave, and that’s when things start to grow more bizarre. The man who delivers oil won’t sell to the couple. Nobody will deliver supplies to their home, and when the family attempt to go to the village, the automobile won’t start. A storm gathers, the power of their radio fade, and with the arrival of dusk, “the two old people clung to each other within their rental and waited”. What might be this couple waiting for? What might the townspeople understand? Each occasion I revisit the writer’s disturbing and thought-provoking narrative, I’m reminded that the best horror originates in that which remains hidden.

Mariana Enríquez

Ringing the Changes by a noted author

In this brief tale a pair journey to an ordinary seaside town where bells ring the whole time, a perpetual pealing that is irritating and puzzling. The initial extremely terrifying moment occurs during the evening, as they choose to walk around and they fail to see the water. The beach is there, there is the odor of putrid marine life and brine, there are waves, but the ocean seems phantom, or something else and worse. It is truly insanely sinister and every time I travel to the coast at night I recall this tale which spoiled the sea at night to my mind – positively.

The recent spouses – she’s very young, he’s not – return to the hotel and discover the cause of the ringing, during a prolonged scene of confinement, macabre revelry and mortality and youth meets grim ballet pandemonium. It’s an unnerving contemplation regarding craving and deterioration, two bodies maturing in tandem as spouses, the attachment and violence and tenderness within wedlock.

Not only the most terrifying, but perhaps one of the best brief tales out there, and a personal favourite. I read it in the Spanish language, in the debut release of Aickman stories to be published in Argentina several years back.

Catriona Ward

Zombie by an esteemed writer

I delved into this narrative beside the swimming area overseas in 2020. Despite the sunshine I experienced an icy feeling over me. Additionally, I sensed the excitement of fascination. I was composing my latest book, and I had hit a block. I was uncertain if it was possible a proper method to write various frightening aspects the book contains. Reading Zombie, I realized that it was possible.

Released decades ago, the novel is a bleak exploration into the thoughts of a young serial killer, the main character, inspired by Jeffrey Dahmer, the serial killer who slaughtered and dismembered multiple victims in Milwaukee between 1978 and 1991. Notoriously, the killer was fixated with making a submissive individual that would remain him and attempted numerous macabre trials to achieve this.

The deeds the book depicts are appalling, but just as scary is the emotional authenticity. The protagonist’s terrible, fragmented world is plainly told in spare prose, names redacted. You is immersed caught in his thoughts, compelled to observe mental processes and behaviors that horrify. The alien nature of his mind resembles a tangible impact – or being stranded on a desolate planet. Going into Zombie is not just reading but a complete immersion. You are swallowed whole.

An Accomplished Author

A Haunting Novel by Helen Oyeyemi

In my early years, I sleepwalked and later started experiencing nightmares. Once, the fear involved a dream where I was confined in a box and, upon awakening, I found that I had torn off the slat off the window, attempting to escape. That house was falling apart; when storms came the entranceway became inundated, fly larvae fell from the ceiling onto the bed, and on one occasion a big rodent climbed the drapes in my sister’s room.

Once a companion presented me with this author’s book, I was residing elsewhere with my parents, but the tale regarding the building high on the Dover cliffs appeared known in my view, homesick at that time. It’s a novel about a haunted clamorous, atmospheric home and a female character who eats calcium from the cliffs. I adored the novel so much and returned again and again to its pages, each time discovering {something