I have always gravitated toward works of horror, even at a young age. At first, I read whatever I could find on my parents’ bookshelves. John Saul. V.C. Andrews. Stephen King. They lit a fire in me, made me curious about all the things that might be out there. All the things we cannot prove. Ghosts hiding around corners. Monsters lurking in shadows.
As I got older, I began to appreciate a different sort of horror. Horror that made me interrogate the greater dangers we encounter in our day-to-day lives. The deeper evils that lie within us. What could be more terrifying?
If there is anything to inspire an even deeper dread within me, it’s stories that take already terrible events from real life and make them even more monstrous using the traditional elements of horror. Perhaps it’s because these stories hew so closely to reality, they almost seem to…
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