“I mean creative work that seeks to fill its audience with visceral, abject, unrelenting terror. That’s my horror.”
“The child was born beneath a blood-red moon that scourged a stained-glass sky under midnight like the breaking of the world. The blighted orb’s glow spread as ten thousand smoky tendrils through the latticework seams of–“
They stood upon rust-colored ground in a liminal space. Overhanging crags and shattered boulders filled it farther than the eye could see along its longest axis.
Roiling plumes, flecked by coursing shapes like obsidian shards, swam about a striated stony pathway. Dusky glows seeped through the encroaching clouds.