But to die as lovers may – to die together, so that they may live together.

He was a strange mix of Heinrich Himmler and Barney the Dinosaur.

Someone once asked me what I thought horror fiction did. What its purpose was . . . I replied that when I wrote horror fiction, I tried to take the improbable, the unimaginable, and the...

But if home suddenly becomes not like home, what then?

Corpses were real. He had heard about these cannibal dead walkers in the northeast, but they were in fact real. Rumor had it that one – just one – had made its way down towards...

The computer may be incompetent in itself–that is, unable to do the work for which it was designed. This kind of incompetence can never be eliminated, because the Peter Principle applies in the plants where...

Shawn slowly climbed the old wooden stairs, listening to the low creak that sounded from his footsteps. He hoped the wood wouldn’t collapse beneath him. But the stairs held strong and a moment later he...

…while the stony bones of the world tore past and the air grew dark and howling. The last thing he saw as the gulley became a torrent of dust and rock was the Jeep, plucked...

Death is one lover who cannot be spurned.

Be less than what you are so that you can become more.” ― Joseph Delaney, The Spook’s Sacrifice

The people inside the gym didn’t stand a dead drunk’s chance.

‘Can’t you see what they are?’ I said. ‘They’re all dead.’

Twenty hours of that should shut you up,” the red-robed figure said.

Finally, the water level topped off, leaving him with no more air to breathe. He drew his last breath and slipped down deep into the darkness that claimed his soul.

I think perhaps all of us go a little crazy at times.

So I suggest you stick close, pay attention, and avoid breaking the Terrorverse’s only commandment: Thou shall not be stupid.

E quasi per sbaglio Eddie scoprì una delle grandi verità della sua infanzia: i veri mostri sono gli adulti.

But sometimes i have to ask myself this question. its true that to us his imaginings are nothing but the inventions of a busy mind. But to him, there simply is no other reality. Further...

Unlike the rest he had seen of the bungalow, the hall beyond the door was dark. He could see the glimmer of three doors and several framed photographs lined up along the walls. The sound...

horror” had become obsolete. A surfeiting of terror made terror a cliché. To Robert Neville the situation merely existed as natural fact. It had no adjectives.

Demons are like obedient dogs; they come when they are called.