Horror Movies? Might as Well.


Logan Graham , Co-Editor in Chief

Voldemort slowly creeps up the house’s stairs, his bony white hand gripping his wand. The camera switches angles and Voldemort’s ghastly white face comes into view. Slowly opening a wooden door, Voldemort stands over a sleeping man and utters “Avada kedavra.” A bright flash of green light erupts from Voldemort’s wand and he smiles, his rotted, pointed teeth peering out from his dark mouth.

To the average movie-goer, this scene is an exciting, action-packed thrill-ride. But to me, Voldemort might as well be the main villain in a horror film — Voldemort, along with so many other horror characters, absolutely terrify me. I am in no way drawn to fictional horror like many of my peers—in fact, I run straight away from it.

When, as a youngster, I first saw Voldemort in Harry Potter, I was scared half to death. At age eighteen, I still am. I mean, He Who Must Not Be Named has two long slits for a nose. How is that not terrifying?!? And don’t get me thinking about the time my cousins pinned me down and forced me to watch The Exorcist. I have nightmares about that experience to this day. Even as a proud Durango Demon, any film on Demons will leave me whimpering in fear.

logan-for-onlineWhile I have no problem running rapids in my kayak, rappelling off hundred-foot cliffs, or bagging peaks with exposed routes, the horrors found in fiction and film petrify me.

One summer day a few years ago I was watching an episode of “Friends” and when one of the show’s characters fell in love with Stephen King’s The Shinning, I thought to myself “Eh, why not? I’ll give it a try.” Only knowing the title of the book, I never expected the horrors that lie inside. While I was picturing a nice novel on nice a shoe shiner in New York City or beautiful shining sunsets, I received a terrifying surprise, and, within a few chapters, I was thoroughly freaked, believing my house’s furnace was really Jack coming to kill me.

So yes, my friends, whenever you suggest we watch a scary movie together on a Saturday night, my mysterious family gatherings that always strangely occur during the movie are always made up. My family isn’t a cult that has meetings every Saturday night at 11 p.m., I just would rather not have to wear a diaper every movie-night in fear of pissing myself.

While a college-bound student who’s still mildly concerned about the subject of Voldemort’s latest whereabouts may be a sad sight, it’s not as sad as the sick film-makers in Hollywood who make horror films — from all us scaredy-cats, we curse you for giving Voldemort such big, ghastly nose-slits, and for making countless scenes that scare us senseless.