The Power (2021) – A Truly Dark Horror Film

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Best Of Best of Movies Featured Scary Movies and Series

I’m hugely enjoying the trope of modern horror that involves pulling real events from history as backdrops for unique and personal stories. The new film from Corinna Faith (writer of The Innocents), The Power (2021) adopts the setting of a London hospital during the 1970s power-saving blackouts. While it’s a unique pairing of genre and source material within itself, the idea of nightly nationwide power outages is, when considered, the perfect vehicle for claustrophobic intensity. 

Val (Rose Williams) works her first day as a nurse and somehow finds herself forced to work the nightshift during one of the aforementioned blackouts. Simple and effective, no? Couple this setup with fantastically engrossing performances and some playful yet focused cinematography and viewers are transported within the walls of the hospital themselves. I felt Val’s every insecurity, laughed at the sardonic nurses and surmised at their odd detachment to their surroundings. 

All of this made it rather more terrifying when the lights finally went out. Chills ran up my spine as the darkness crept towards Val, her whimper of “It’s too early, isn’t it?” echoing into the black. The idea of being so unprepared and in such an unfamiliar place is universal. This and the quality of direction and casting on display here bolsters an otherwise thin story requiring self-generated drama; Faith clearly knew this and rolled with it, playing to her advantages. 

Every element seems tailored to add to the films immersion; the story taking place in a single night, the realistic reactions (one nurse hilariously walks away when things start to get slightly weird), the slow-burn first act that drew me in with likeable and varied characters as well as the the ambiguity of what the hell that is lurking in the dark? Then, at some point in its runtime, something happened which rarely does in modern paranormal horror; things actually escalated. While the slow realization that something is watching from the darkness is very creepy, this did not give me high hopes that The Power would elevate itself beyond the throwaway slow-build-to-jumpscare horror flick it could easily have been. Thankfully my fears were laid to rest when all implied menace finally reared its ugly head, and the true horror began.

From this enthralling tonal shift onwards we are treated to masterful setup and execution of scare after scare. Restrained and calculated use of violence serves to establish a tangible threat, forcing the viewer to relate more directly. Later on, themes are explored tastefully and mindfully that give the title a new meaning entirely, bringing a fulfilling cadence to the third act. I won’t divulge too much for the sake of impact, but the second tonal shift only added to The Power’s impression on me.

Discipline and moderation are shown in the making of this diversely spooky tale of a hospital’s dark secret. That being said, director Corinna Faith knows how to get the hairs standing and the blood pumping while still delivering a satisfying conclusion to a twisting, tightrope-walk of a horror film.

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The Qalupalik: Monsters of the Deep

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Featured Horror Mystery and Lore

When you think of a mermaid, you may conjure images of a kind-hearted, beautiful half-fish, half-human or the dangerous siren that can lure sailors to their death—however, the Inuit legend of the Qalupalik is a little bit different. The Qalupalik is likewise a creature of the sea, but she is more often thought of as a water spirit, a sea monster, or a demon. In this respect, it is said to be more similar to the Japanese Kappa, a water demon who steals children and consumes them. Folklore recorded from Inuit sources are purposefully vague on whether or not the Qalupalik is the only one of her kind, or whether there are great numbers of these monsters living in the Arctic seas, but she is regularly referenced as being a single creature.

Legend of the Inuit Siren

Qalupalik, the Inuit Siren or Mermaid
Photography by Li Yang

In Alaskan and Canadian Inuit culture, there are Arctic ocean-dwelling creatures known as Qalupaliit (kah-loo-pah-leet)—unlike other mythical mermaids and sirens, there is absolutely nothing attractive about the Qalupalik. Despite the persistent popular mermaid princess culture that surrounds much of the lore of this aquatic creature’s cousins in lore, the Qalupalik (kah-loo-pah-leek) is not described as having any pleasant features, let alone an amenable demeanor. Wraith-like in appearance, her long black hair is perpetually plastered to her sallow, slimy, scaly skin—her ghastly despondent face is paired with her dark and hollow eyes. These creatures are often depicted as having fins that jut out of their heads, backs and arms, and their webbed feet and hands are topped with long sharp claws—all of this is enough to strike terror into the hearts of the children that the Qalupalik preys upon.

The Qalupalik is rumored to reek of sulfur—you know, the smell of rotting eggs? So it’s curious that she would ever get close enough to someone without them noticing, but adventurous children who don’t heed the warnings of their parents are the ones she seeks to claim; she hums beautiful melodies to lure them to the icy banks of the ocean’s shore where she snatches them up and stuffs them in her amauti, a duck-skin coat similar to a parka with a pouch for young children to be carried in. It’s quite normal for Inuit parents to caution their children about the dreadful Qalupalik and they would do so frequently, telling their children that if they hear the humming noise near the shore that the Qalupalik is near. Unfortunately for children, the humming is similar to that of a Siren’s song, as it is meant to entice children to come closer to the shore or out onto the dangerously thin ice.

Those who have sighted the Qalupalik report that these creatures can only be seen for an instant before they are gone, but the child victims of the Qalupalik would not be as lucky. She would leap out from under the water, sink her shark claws into their flesh and drag them forward into the water. It is said, once she seizes a child, she takes them down to the freezing depths of the ocean where she either eats them, or takes them away enchanting them with sleep and feeding off of their youth so that she may remain young forever; the child is never to be seen or heard from by their family again. Alternatively, the child would get a brief glimpse of the face of the Qalupalik, which might resemble a woman’s face that had turned green and bloated from rotting and under the sea—this child would experience their last few moments of life in pain as the freezing water rushed into their open, screaming throat, and feel the blood in their veins freeze as they heard the distant voices of their family, crying out their name.

So what purpose does the myth of the Qalupalik serve for the Inuit society? Well, the harsh arctic environment within which the Inuit people live is terrifying and dangerous; within a community that works so hard to survive, the parents and elders used storytelling as a way of aiding in the upbringing and survival of the children of the village. Essentially, the use of scare-tactics was a way for children to avoid the dangerous aspects of their environment when they were alone,. The story of the Qalupalik was created to encourage these children to fear to be alone near the dangerous shores of the sea, where they could easily fall prey to the natural elements by either drowning or dying from hypothermia.


Qalupalik, Inuit Siren, stalks the shores
Photography by Jana Sabeth

Tales & Traditions: Qallupilluit

The Central Eskimo (1888) recorded by Franz Boas

An old woman lived with her grandson in a small hut. As they had no kinsmen they were very poor. A. few Inuit only took pity on them and brought them seal’s meat and blubber for their lamp”. Once upon a time, they were very hungry and the boy cried. The grandmother told him to be quiet, but as he did not obey she became angry and called Qallupilluk to come and take him away. He entered at once and the woman put the boy into the large hood, in which he disappeared almost immediately.

Later on the Inuit were more successful in sealing and they had an abundance of meat. Then the grandmother was sorry that she had so rashly given the boy to Qallupilluk and wished to see him back again. She lamented about it to the Inuit, and at length a man and his wife promised to help her.

When the ice had consolidated and deep cracks were formed near the shore by the rise and fall of the tide, the boy used to rise and sit alongside the cracks, playing with a whip of seaweed, Qallupilluk, however, was afraid that somebody might carry the boy away and had fastened him to a string of seaweed, which he held in his hands. The Inuit who had seen the boy went toward him, but as soon as he saw them coming he sang, “Two men are coming, one with a double jacket, the other with a foxskin jacket” (Inung maqong tikitong, aipa mirqosailing. aipa kapiteling). Then Qallupilluk pulled on the rope and the boy disappeared. He did not want to return to his grandmother, who had abused him.

Some time afterward the Inuit saw him again sitting near a crack. They took the utmost caution that he should not hear them when approaching, tying pieces of deerskin under the soles of their boots. But when they could almost lay hold of the boy he sang, “Two men are coming, one with a double jacket, the other with a foxskin jacket.” Again Qallupilluk pulled on the seaweed rope and the boy disappeared.

The man and his wife, however, did not give up trying. They resolved to wait near the crack, and on one occasion when the boy had just come out of the water they jumped forward from a piece of ice behind which they had been hidden and before he could give the alarm they had cut the rope and away they went with him to their huts.

The boy lived with them and became a great hunter.


Nunavut Animation Lab: Qalupalik

Nunavut Animation Lab created an animated version of one of the traditional tales about the Qalupalik, just like all of the folklore originating in Alaskan Native culture, there is always a moral to the story. This is an example of one told to children, to inform them of the dangers of not obeying their parents and wandering by the icy coastal waters on their own. Not to be mistaken with her more traditional lore, the video (linked below) describes a circumstance where the child who was kidnapped is rescued by his father, which of course is not what would typically happen if a child were kidnapped by this Inuit monster of the deep.


Mythical Monsters Podcast: Qalupalik

Another excellent resource for this particular mythical beast is Mythical Monsters Podcast who produced this podcast episode entitled “Qalupalik”. Check it out below!


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The Qalupalik by Elisha Kilabuk

The Qalupalik (2011)

An even less traditional take on the legend of the Qalupalik was fairly recently made into a children’s book, but it errs more on the side of child-friendly, where it suggests that despite her frightful appearance, she is rather easily tricked. It’s clear through all of the recent reimaginings of the legend of the Qalupalik that this story is still very widely told within Inuit communities, where the parents and teachers alike share this story with the children of the village in order to protect them from a curious and wandering nature.

The Qalupalik (2011) by Elisha Kilabuk is a mystical Inuit tale that has been reworked from its original well-known narrative. In the original folk tale, the children are always considered the victims and much like the grim nature of the folk tales told by the Brothers Grimm, the story ends without coming to the realization of a happy ending. In this version, we see the new tradition of vulnerable children, or the underdog, outsmarting the monster that happens to be bigger, older, and stronger than themselves; an orphan gets the better of the Qalupalik and survives an encounter with the monster.

This is the first book in the Inhabit Media’s Unikkakuluit Series, which features traditional native folklore being retold in new and interesting ways—while these stories pay homage to the original oral tradition of storytelling, they give the newest generation their own stories to identify with. Despite illustrator Joy Ang creating an incredibly frightening visage for these creatures, her illustrations are incredible and the story they sit alongside can give the meekest child reassurance that even the scariest of opponents will have a weakness that can be exploited.


Works Cited

Akulukjuk, Roselynn. “PUTUGUQ & KUBLU AND THE QALUPALIK.” Kirkus Reviews, Inhabit Media, 7 May 2019.

Houston, James. “Inuit Myth and Legend“. The Canadian Encyclopedia, 04 March 2015, Historica Canada. Accessed 17 December 2020.

Hrodvitnir, Yamuna. “Qalupalik: The Monstrous Inuit Mermaid.” Medium, Medium, 26 May 2020.

INUIT MYTHOLOGY.” Inuit Mythology.

Kilabuk, Elisha, and Sarah Sorensen. “The Qalupalik.” Quill and Quire, 30 June 2011.

National Film Board of Canada. “Nunavut Animation Lab: Qalupalik.” National Film Board of Canada, 2 Dec. 2010.

Oliver, Mark. “11 Mythological Creatures That Reveal Humanity’s Deepest Fears.” All That’s Interesting, All That’s Interesting, 17 June 2020.

Pfeifle, Tess. Qalupalik. 8 Jan. 2019, www.astonishinglegends.com/astonishing-legends/2019/1/7/qalupalik.

“Qalupalik.” Mythpedia Wiki, mythpedia.fandom.com/wiki/Qalupalik.

“Tales and Traditions.” The Central Eskimo: Introd. by Henry B. Collins, by Franz Boas, Smithsonian Institution, Bureau of Ethnology, 1888, pp. 212–213.

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The Rougarou: A Fictional Story About Louisiana Folklore

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Featured Horror Mystery and Lore Indie Horror Indie Horror Creation Indie horror writers Short Horror Stories

Houma, Louisiana, July, 1985

Tara Stillman shouldered her black Guess purse, closed the door to her brown Pinto, and bent down to the side mirror to check her make up. She stood up, tucked her straight blonde hair behind her ears, and walked around the front of the car. Tara was a junior at Ellender Memorial, and she scored a baby-sitting job with the Miller’s this past year.

Mr. Miller worked for her dad, Don, who married Sandy Lockhorn back in 1964. A year later, he started a contracting business called Stillman’s Quality Painting and Contracting. He hired Tim Miller on as a project manager back in April of ‘84, and the two hit it off pretty well. Tim and his wife, Diana, wanted to start going out a little more, you know, rekindle the ole flame, so they were in need of a sitter for their seven-year-old son, Eddie. Don volunteered Tara, and the rest as they say, was history. Tara likes the gig okay. It’s nice to have some money in her pocket, even though little Eddie can be a real snot at times.

She walked down the brick sidewalk and up the wooden steps of the dark stained porch and knocked on the door. She heard the pattering of little feet on the wood floor, as Eddie scurried to answer the door. She could hear him fiddling with the lock, which he was finally able to turn over. The door opened and a boy with a flat top and two missing front teeth was there to greet her.

“Tara!” Eddie ran and gave her left leg a tight embrace.

Eddie was always excited to see her–at first anyway. Then after a while, he would descend into his cave of brattiness and not climb out till morning.

One time, Tara decided to do the whole “breakfast for dinner” thing and made Eddie pancakes. When she was done serving him his food, she walked out to go to the bathroom. When she returned about 3 minutes later, there was Eddie, standing on the kitchen island with a bottle of empty syrup. Its content was dripping from the ceiling. Eddie had wanted to see how far it would squirt out the bottle, and he thought the ceiling would be a good target. When Mr. and Mrs. Miller got home later that night, Tara told them what had happened. They assured her they would deal with it–yeah, right. Then there was this other time that Tara walked away from her glass of sweet tea. Eddie saw his opportunity. He poured baking soda in it and waited for her reaction.

“Hey bud!” Tara rubbed his head like she was petting a dog. “Where’s your mom and dad?”

“Tara? That you?” She could hear Mr. Miller from the kitchen.

“Yessir, its me.”

Eddie let go of her leg and ran to the kitchen. Tara followed, walking through the dining room to her left, and through to the kitchen to the right. Mr. Miller was there by the fridge, sucking down a Budweiser before they hit the road. He was a ruddy looking man with a nice tan and head full of brown curls.  

Mrs. Miller was at the sink, loading the last of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Tara always thought Mrs. Miller was very pretty. She had strawberry blonde hair that seemed to wave at you when she walked. Her complexion was a little on the fair side, but her blue eyes were her most striking feature.

“Hey, honey.” Mrs. Miller reached for a dishtowel that was hanging on the oven handle, dried her hands, and gave Tara a hug. “I’ve got some spaghetti in a pot there on the stove for when y’all get hungry. We should be back around 10:30 or 11”

Tara looked at her watch. It was 5:52 p.m.

“Also, Mr. and Mrs. Walker are home this evening, so if you need anything, just walk next door and ask.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Oh, and bedtime is 8:30’ Mr. Miller interjected.

Tara has been sitting for the Miller’s for just over a year now. She knows the routine, but they still deem it necessary to spell it out for her. She guessed it’s just what parents did. Made them feel better about leaving their kids behind while they go off.

“Yessir.”

“Thanks, dear.” Mrs. Miller gave her a smile.

“You two run along. Don’t want y’all being late. We’ll have fun as always.” Tara smiled back.

Mr. Miller escorted his wife by the arm and out of the kitchen. Tara heard the door open and shut, and she could hear the sound of their voices flutter off into the distance.

That evening her and Eddie played basketball, He-Man, and watched an episode of the Twilight Zone. 8:30 rolled around and Tara proceeded to get Eddie ready for bed. Eddie wasn’t having it. He started to get into one of his little snotty moods.

“Eddie, you need to go brush your teeth. It’s 8:30. Time for bed.” Tara got off the couch, walked over to the television, and switched it off.

Eddie, who was sitting on the floor about three feet away from the television, started to mount his protest. “But I’m not tired! Please let me stay up and watch the next episode. I won’t tell mom or dad, honest to goodness.” It was more like “honeth to goodneth” with his missing front teeth.” Eddie peered up at her and gave his best puppy dog eyes.

“No way, kiddo. I like the money I get for this gig.” Tara held out her hands to help him up. Eddie scooted on his booty, turned away from her, and crossed his arms.

“You’re mean. A mean buttface poo poo head.”

“Eddie, let’s not end tonight on a bad note.” Tara held out her arms again.

“Buttface poo poo head! Buttface poo poo head!” He chanted it over and over, and louder and louder.

“Okay, we will do this the hard way.” Tara grabbed Eddie and threw him over her shoulder. He kicked and screamed and flailed, all the while continuing his chant of “Buttface poo poo head.” Tara walked out of the living room, into the hallway, and then turned and headed up the stairs.

“Are you ready to walk up the stairs on your own ,or do I have to carry you like a baby.”

“Buttface poo poo head!”

“Okay, like a baby.”

Tara lugged him up the stairs and into his bathroom. She set him down on bathroom counter next to the sink. “Are you ready to do the right thing and brush your teeth?”

Eddie blew a raspberry and splattered spit all over Tara’s face.

“That’s it, you little monster. I’m going to tell your mom and dad.”

Eddie grabbed the tube of toothpaste next to him, which was uncapped, and squeezed, hard. Toothpaste shot out of the tube in a blue snake, and slithered its way into Tara’s neck and hair.

“You freaking little brat,” she gasped. “I’m gonna bend you over my knee!”

“Do it and I’ll tell.” Eddie stuck out his tongue.

Tara stepped away from Eddie and whipped a towel off the rack by the bathtub. She wet the towel in the sink and began to wipe the blue goo off of her.

Eddie sat there on the counter, arms crossed and head down. She glared at him so hard, Eddie swore her eyes were burning holes in him.

“I hope your dad belts you so hard that you butt blisters and you can’t sit down and take a crap for a week.” Tara worked some of the toothpaste out of her hair.

Eddie let out a rebellious humf.

“Better yet,” Tara paused. “I hope the Rougarou gets you.”

Eddie’s head popped up like a jack-in-the box.

“Roog a what?”

“Rou-ga-rou.”

“What’s a Roo-ga-roo?” Eddie scrunched his brow.

“You mean your momma and daddy haven’t told you about the Rougarou? Oh, you of all the little boys in this town should hear about the Rougarou.” Tara eased her way over to the counter where Eddie sat. She placed both hands out beside his, leaned in close and looked him dead in the eyes.

“The Rougarou is the dog of death. He’s pale white in color, and wanders the streets of small towns like this one, looking for someone to deliver him from his wretched curse. Once he picks you out, he will torment you until you kill him.”

“Ohhhh scary.” Eddie rolled his eyes and a sarcastic scowl came over his face.

“I ain’t done yet.” Tara’s grimmaced. “When the first drop of blood is drawn from the deathblow, the Rougarou will turn back into a person, and will reveal to his attacker his real name. Before the dying person takes their last breath, they will warn their deliverer that he or she can’t mention a word of this to nobody whatsoever for an entire year. If you do, you will suffer the same fate and become the Rougarou.”

“It ain’t true” Eddie’s eyes looked away.

“It is so. I heard that just last year over in Larose, a man reported being followed and pestered by a white dog while he was jogging one morning. The dog started to become violent, so he trailed off into the woods, got a big ole stick and went to town on that dog. Next thing you know, the man went missing.”

Tara could tell Eddie was getting scared. He started to twitch and fidget, and wouldn’t look her in the eye.

Good. Maybe he’s so scared, he’ll just go to bed.

“I think I’m going to brush my teeth and go to bed,” Eddie said

“Good.” Tara removed her arms from the counter and backed away.

Eddie jumped down, grabbed his toothbrush from the holder, squirted the blue goo on it, and then scrubbed away. When he was done, Tara walked with him to his room.

“Want me to tuck you in,” Tara asked.

“No, I don’t need you,” Eddie huffed.

“Okay, suit yourself.”

Tara watched as Eddie wobbled his way to the bed, hoisted his foot up, and climbed in. He pulled back his Transformer covers, nestled in, and rested his head against his pillow.

“Goodnight Tara.”

“Goodnight Eddie. Oh and Eddie?’

“Yeah?”

You might want to leave your closet light on. I also hear that the Rougarou likes to sneak into bad little boy’s rooms at night and nip at their heels.”

“Shut up, Tara.” Eddie rolled over so she couldn’t see the fear in his eyes.

“Goodnight, sleep tight, and don’t let the Rougarou bite.” Tara giggled.

“Shut up!. Goodnight and leave me alone.”

Tara backed out the door and shut it with a gentle click.

When he was sure she was gone, Eddie pulled out his G.I. Joe flashlight from under his pillow, flicked it on, and did a spot search of the premises from the safety of his Transformer sheets. Seeing all was clear, he lied down and tried to go to sleep. But all he could think about was the Rougarou.

The next morning Eddie woke up, went down stairs, fixed himself a bowl of Fruity Pebbles, grabbed a T.V tray, and sat down on the floor (in the exact same spot where he was the night before.) to eat his cereal and watch Super Friends. His clanking in the kitchen, along with the T.V. pumped up to full blast, woke up Diana. She shuffled into the living room, unnoticed by Eddie, walked up behind him, and bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She startled Eddie, and he sloshed his cereal onto the tray.

“Loud enough for you, Eddie?” Diana walked over to the television and turned the volume down to half way. ‘How was last night? You and Tara have fun?”

“Mmm it was okay.” Eddie said slurping his cereal from his spoon, eyes fixed on Superman breaking open a cave wall with a punch.

“Okay? Tara told me that you refused to get ready for bed, and then squirted toothpaste all over her?”

Eddie ignored his mother. This time, Batman and Robin were jumping into the Batmobile to answer a call for help.

Diana pushed the power button and the television flickered to grey.

“Watcha do that for?” Eddie dropped his spoon and dribbled milk down his chin.

“No T.V. for you this morning. Especially after that stunt you pulled last night. Tara is supposed to come over again tonight because your father and I are going to the Mayeaux wedding. We’ve never asked her to do two in a row before, but she said she wouldn’t mind. You pull something like that tonight, buddy, and I’ll make sure your daddy gets a hold of your rear end. You understand me?” Roses were blooming in Diana’s pale cheeks.

“Yes ma’am,”

“When she comes back over here tonight, you’re gonna apologize to her. Understand?’

“Yes mamma.”

“Good. Now run along and go play outside.”

Eddie bounced to his feet and turned to make a break for it.

“But not before you put away your tray!”

He stopped mid stride, did an about face, and headed back for his tray.

After he finished putting breakfast away, Eddie went up to his room to prepare the necessary gear for going outdoors in southern Louisiana. He dawned his blue jeans and camo shirt, shouldered his canteen, and belted his survival knife.

Eddie then raced down the stairs like a jack rabbit and bounced out the door. He ran around the back of the house and grabbed his red and black BMX, mounted it, and took off. He made his way down the long, concrete driveway and out to the gravel road. The Miller’s lived on the outskirts of town, about eight miles away from LA 24. There were a few neighbors who lived close to them, like the Walkers and the Donahue’s, but other than that, they were by themselves.

Just about every Saturday during the summer, Eddie would ride his bike down the gravel road. About a mile and a half down, the woods opened up to a little field about fifty yards long. In the middle of the field stood a monstrous oak tree. Its’ branches were so long, they touched the ground. Eddie would play on the tree for hours, pretending he was fighting COBRA or saving Eternia from Skeletor. But today, since he didn’t get to finish watching Super Friends, he was going to be Superman, and the tree was the great Octoserpent that threatened the lives of mankind.

As soon as Eddie pulled up to the tree, he jumped off his bike, one fist outstretched and the other pulled close, and flew towards the great Octoserpent. “Your tentacles are no match for my super strength.” Eddie grabbed a low hanging branch and pretended to rip it from the tree.

After about fifteen minutes of fighting the Octoserpent, Eddie got thirsty. He picked up his canteen that he had tossed to the ground when he was flying to save the world and sat on the same branch he was just wrestling with. He gulped some water from the opening. He stared out into the brush just beyond the field and a large, white dog poked its head out from around one of the bushes. Its eyes locked with Eddie’s. Eddie jolted up like the tree had just run an electric current up his rear end. He dropped his canteen and stood to his feet. He could see the dog had black eyes, long, pointy ears, and was growling.

The dog made its way from out behind the bushes and Eddie could see just how big it was. “It can’t be.” Eddie whispered. “The Rougarou!” His shout set the dog in motion.

Its paws pounded the grass. It bared its teeth and its ears were pinned back.

Eddie squealed, ran to his bike, mounted it, and peddled as hard as he had ever remembered peddling.

“Help help help!” He pumped his legs, but the dog was gaining ground. He made it out to the road and was able to pick up speed. “Momma! Daddy! Help, help! Mr. Walker!” Eddie looked back over his shoulder, and the dog was only about ten yards behind him. He leaned in and tried to go faster. He was crying, but the wind on his face was drying his tears just as fast as he could spit them out.

“Rougarou! It’s the Rougarou! He’s gonna get me, Tara said so!”

Eddie heard what sounded like a muffled clap. He looked back again and saw that the dog was at his rear wheel, nipping at his feet. He kept peddling and the dog kept snapping, coming within hairs of sinking its teeth into his achilleas. Seconds later, Eddie’s bike came to a crashing halt. The dog had bitten down on the back tire. Eddie flew forward over the handle bars and landed on the ground with a thud. With the breath knocked out of him, Eddie could hear the growls getting closer. He got to his knees and stood up.

The dog leaped for him.

All Eddie saw was a white flash. Back on the ground. Eddie wrestled to get free from the white cloud. The dog let him up, so Eddie kicked up dust and high tailed it out of there on two legs.

The white dog took chase. It got close to Eddie again and started nipping at his heels. Eddie tripped and crashed to the ground again.

The dog circled Eddie with head down and eyes fixed.

Eddie was sobbing and breathing so hard his lungs felt like they were on fire.

“Go away, you dumb dog. I know what you are, you stupid Rougarou. Get out of here.”

The dog lunged in and bit Eddie on the calf, but not hard enough to pierce his skin. Eddie screamed and kicked his legs like he was peddling his bike. Then he remembered his knife. He released it from its sheath and buried it deep in the dog’s neck. Blood sprayed out of the dog’s neck like someone had just turned on a sprinkler. The dog yelped and backed away from Eddie.

He could see its white coat turning crimson. The dog got down on its belly and crawled towards Eddie, wincing. When it got closer, that’s when Eddie noticed. It’s front paws started to lose their hair, and the nails elongated to fingers. Its tail looked like it got sucked in to the rest of its body. The ears started to shrink, and the hind legs were growing bigger. Eddie then looked at its face. The snout shrunk and the teeth began to flatten. In a matter of moments, there was a naked man lying curled up in a fetial position. The man had black matted hair, thick eyebrows, and was shivering as blood still poured from his neck. Then he spoke.

“Come here, boy. I got something to tell you.”

Eddie was a block of ice.

The man continued. “My name is Larry Bordelom from Metairie. I went down to New Orleans because I heard there was a witch there who could cast spells of prosperity.” Larry coughed and then placed his hand over the hole in his neck. “I don’t have long…but the witch tricked me. She cast the spell and said I would be visited by someone who would bring me great fortune.” Larry’s teeth started to chatter. “As soon as I left and started walking to my car, that’s when I saw it, the Rougarou. It charged me and knocked me over. I didn’t know what it was…thought it was just a dog, so I pulled out my gun and shot it dead…that’s when I found out…Listen boy, the curse is now yours. If you want it to pass, you can’t tell no one about this for a year…can you do that son?”

Eddie nodded his head.

“Good son, good.” The man then dissolved to a pile of dust.

Eddie went home and spent the rest of the day in his room.

Eddie’s dad came and knocked on his door around 5 p.m.

“Come in.”

“Hey son, you’ve been awful quiet this afternoon, You okay?”

Eddie was sitting on the floor playing with his He-Man action figures. Man-at-Arms had Beastman on the ground, clubbing him away with his yellow battle club. “Yeah dad, just playing.”

“Oh, okay…Well, Tara is going to be here soon. Why don’t you go ahead and take a bath before she does.”

“Sure dad.”

Tara showed up around 5:30. They did their usual routine, except basketball. Eddie didn’t want to go outside at all. Around 7:00 they ate hotdogs. Eddie was docile all evening, and Tara thought he might be getting sick. She had never seen him this quiet before. They were sitting at the kitchen table, and Eddie chewed away relentlessly at his hotdog.

“You feeling alright, Eddie?”

“Mmhmm” Eddie said under a mouth full of food.

“You been pretty quiet this evening. Not like you at all. Something on your mind?”

Eddie shook his head. He thought for sure Tara could see the terror lurking behind his eyes. He didn’t know what acting was like, but he was sure that he was doing a good job of it.

“Wanna go watch some television,” Tara asked.

“Sure.”

Eddie slid out of his chair and headed towards the living room. Tara cleaned up their mess, and then joined him. When she walked into the living room, Eddie wasn’t sitting in his usual spot. He was on the couch, knees to his chest.

“You care if I sit by you tonight,” he asked.

He’s finally warming up to me, Tara thought.

Tara smiled. “Sure buddy, you can sit right here by me. I’ll even put my arm around you. Cool?”

“Cool.”

Eddie dozed in and out while the television played. He perked up a little when Fall Guy came on, and stayed awake for the entire episode.

Then 8:30 came.

Ok, here we go. Time for Monster Eddie to show his face, Tara thought.

“Eddie, its 8:30. Time to get ready for bed okay?”

“Okay.” Eddie scooted off the couch and headed upstairs to his room.

Tara’s jaw dropped a tad as she thought her eyes and ears were playing tricks on her. Nope, sure enough, Eddie didn’t even utter a cross word to her.

Upstairs in the bathroom, Eddie locked the door, put the toilet lid down, and sat. His knees were trembling and his teeth where chattering. Fear crept down his spine like a spider going for its prey.

Maybe it’s not real. Maybe I just imagined it. Maybe it’s not true. Maybe I should tell Tara. No, no, what if it’s real?

A knock on the door. Eddie jumped to his feet.

“You brushing away in there”

“About to.” Eddie brushed his teeth, opened the door, and walked down the hall to his room.

Tara was standing in the doorway. “Gonna tuck yourself in tonight big boy?”

Eddie reached out and held her hand. “No, will you?” Tara knelt down and gave him a big hug. “I sure will.”

Tara helped Eddie into bed and pulled back the Transformer covers. Eddie slid in, and Tara pulled the covers up to his chest. “Goodnight, Eddie.” Tara kissed him on the forehead and turned to walk out of the room.

“Tara, wait. Can I talk to you?”

Tara sat down on the edge of his bed. “Sure. What’s up?”

Eddie recounted to her the events from earlier today with the Rougarou. Tara did her best not to laugh, because she could see the seriousness on Eddie’s face and hear the fear in his voice. After he was done, Tara smiled and tried to comfort him.

“Eddie, that story I told you last night, it’s not true. It’s made up. It’s what’s called an urban legend, a story that’s told just to scare people.”

“No, it’s not!” Eddie jerked away from her. “You don’t believe me and you think I’m making it up and that I’m just a stupid little kid but I’m not and now I’m gonna turn into the Rou..ga…r” Eddies words were swallowed by a torrent of tears. Tara place her hand on his back. Eddie turned around and flung himself on Tara. She held him until the tears subsided.

“Listen, Eddie.” Tara whispered in his ear. “Whatever happened to you today, I want you to know that it wasn’t the Rougarou. I’m not saying that you didn’t see something weird or whatever today. I’m just saying it ain’t the Rougarou. Okay?”

“Tara?” Eddie let go of his embrace and sat back against his pillow. “Please don’t tell momma and daddy? Please?” Eddie sniffled and slid back under his covers.

“I promise.”

Eddie grinned. “Thanks.”

“You betcha. Now go to sleep.” Tara kissed him on the cheek, rolled off the bed, and walked towards the door and turned off the light.

Mr. and Mrs. Miller walked through the front door at around 9:45. Tara was sitting on the couch reading Stephen King’s Pet Sematary.

“Hey Tara, how’d he do tonight?” Mr. Miller loosened his blue tie.

Tara pulled her head out of the book. “Perfect lil angel.”

Mrs. Miller snorted.

“No, seriously.” Tara marked her place and put the book down. “He was quiet all evening. We played some, watched T.V., and when it was bed time, he gave me no fuss.”

“Yeah, he’s been awful quiet all day. Just sat in his room and played all afternoon.” Mr. Miller plopped down in his recliner. “He say anything to you? Anything bothering him?”

“No. Nothing. Wonderin’ if me might be comin’ down with something.” Tara played it cool. “You might want to go and check on him before you go to bed. See if he’s running a fever.”

“Sure. We will.” Mrs. Miller assured her. “Thanks again for everything. We’ll see you tomorrow at church.

They said their goodbyes and Tara headed home. Later that night, before they went to sleep, Diana went up to check on Eddie. He was sound asleep. She put her hand to his forehead and he didn’t feel feverish. She kissed cheek and left him to sleep in peace.

Morning came, and it was time to get ready for church. It was 8:00 a.m. and Eddie still wasn’t up. Tim Miller went up to Eddie’s room and knocked on the door.

No answer.

He turned the knob and cracked the door open. “Hey, sleepy head, time to…” Eddie wasn’t in his bead. Tim headed back down stairs into the kitchen. Diana was sitting at the table finishing off her second cup of coffee.

“Seen Eddie this morning,” Tim asked

“No, Tim. He hasn’t gotten out of bed. I been up since 6.” Diana sipped her coffee.

“Well, he’s not in his bed. I just checked.”

The Miller’s searched every room in the house. When they were sure he wasn’t inside, they made their way outside.

Eddie wasn’t there either.

They got in their car and drove down the road to Eddie’s tree, but no sign of him there.

When they got back to the house, Diana called the Stillman’s and asked for Tara.

“Hello.”

“Tara, this is Mrs. Miller. We can’t find Eddie.”

A lump was swelling in Tara’s throat like a balloon.

“Do you know where he could be? Did he say anything to you yesterday that might…”

Mrs. Miller’s voice started to shake. Tara decided she needed to spill the beans.

“He…he told me…that he saw the Rougarou. He was scared last night. Thinks he’s gonna turn into it.”

“The Rougarou? Where on earth did he hear that story from? We’ve never said anything to him about it.”

“I…I told it to him Friday night to scare him. He was being bad. It was after he squirted me with the toothpaste. I’m sorry.”

“Tara, honey, I’m not mad. And I don’t really see what that has to do with him being missing. Thanks though.”

“You’re welcome Mrs. Miller. Goodbye’

“Goodbye.”

The Miller’s didn’t go to church that day. They drove around town looking for Eddie. The afternoon came and went, and still no sign of the boy, so the Miller’s decided to call the police. They filed a missing person’s report, and the police jumped on it right away.

Two weeks passed, and still no sign of Eddie. Wanting to have some normalcy back in their lives, Tim and Diana asked the Stillman’s over for Sunday lunch. This was a routine that they started this past February. Every other week they would rotate. Sandy tried to talk Diana into having it at their house, but Diana insisted. She said it would make her feel better, so Sandy agreed.

Sunday rolled around, and the Stillmans and the Millers pulled into the driveway of the Miller’s home. They exited their vehicles and went to the door. Tim turned the lock and went inside–and there it was on the stairs, growling.

Tim flinched back. “Oh holy…what the…Everyone stay back! Back!”

Instead, they all rushed forward to see what was going on. Don pushed his way to Tim.

“When’d y’all get a dog,” Don asked.

“We didn’t.” Tim opened the door all the way. “Maybe if we just back up, it will run out the door and go away.”

The white dog, with its black eyes and pointed ears, made a slow descent down the stairs, growling with every step. The Stillmans and the Millers stepped through the door, and huddled together near the wall, Don and Tim in front. Rather than going out the door, the dog circled towards them.

“Don,” Sandy spoke up. “I don’t think it’s going away.”

Tim directed the huddle down the hall. “Our bedroom is right there to the right. We’ll back up slowly into it. Shut the door. I’ll go get my 12 gauge.”

A solemn fear seized Tara. “No, no, no, you can’t kill it. It’s Eddie. Its’ Eddie. He’s the Rougarou!”

Don snapped his head back at Tara. “Hush, girl. Don’t you start the crap again.”

Tara looked at her mother, then to Mrs. Miller. “You can’t let them. You can’t. It’s Eddie I’m telling you.”

Diana glared at Sandy as if to say, “You need to shut her up or I’ll do it for you.”

Sandy grabbed Tara by the shoulders and shook her. “You stop! Stop that now!”

“Enough!” Tim Miller took control. “Everyone back up now, go to the room.”

The dog inched towards them, saliva dripping from its teeth. Tara, Sandy, and Diana backed into the room. Don followed suit, but before Tim could make it past the doorway, the dog pounced. It knocked Tim to the ground, and bit down hard on his shoulder. Tim screamed in agony. “The gun Don, get the gun. Top of the closet. Shells are in the nightstand.”

Don dashed to the closet and got the gun. He then went to the nightstand and slapped some shells in the double barrel 12 gauge. He snapped it closed with a thump.

Tim took his thumbs and jammed them into the dog’s eyes. It let go of his shoulder and backed away. Tim scooted into the room, but there was no way he was getting that door closed. The dog crept back in after him. “Shoot it Don, shoot it now, before it gets closer!”

“No daddy no,” Tara shrieked.

The hallow blast of the shotgun echoed through the bedroom.

Tara screamed, and the dog went airborne, flying out into the hall.

Don helped Tim to his feet, and the two moseyed over towards the dog.

That’s when they saw it, and that’s when Tim Miller screamed.

Laying in a pool of blood, with a hole in his chest, was Eddie Miller.

Tara, Diana, and Sandy hurried over just in time to hear Eddie speak.

“It’s me, daddy, Eddie. I’m not the Rougarou anymore. You are.” Eddie then disintegrated into a pile of dust.  

Next time you’re in southern Louisiana, and a white dog crosses your path, you better hope and pray that it’s not the Rougarou. If it is, you better hope you can keep a secret.

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THE SAVAGE HORROR OF MORTAL KOMBAT

Categories
Featured Lifestyle

In 1992 a fighting game, centred around the titular Mortal Kombat tournament shattered screens worldwide and changed the way the genre was viewed forever. After ten direct sequels and a horde of spin offs the series is still painting our screens with blood and viscera to this day, most notably with its latest instalment, MK11 (2019), where the grisly Fatalities and Brutalities (that contributed to the founding of the ESRB) are as ever prominent. It was almost reactionary in hindsight, taking the idea of a fighting game from martial arts action to a far more demonic, low-brow and downright nasty horror dimension. 

The idea seems to have been born from some nightmarish dream combining Enter The Dragon (1973) with the savagery of grindhouse cinema. As a child it felt like a forbidden series (MK:Trilogy (1996) being the first I played), one that allowed the inflicting of violence and hatred that I never thought possible at such a young age. They were only sprites, tiny pictures of people, though the brutality between them genuinely shocked me. 

Mortal combat enter the dragon screenshot

We weren’t just fighting here, we were looking to decimate one another, and the idea of finding new and even more complex and disgusting methods of doing so was enough to glue me to the series to this day. Over the top, execution-style fatalities seemed more like torture than fighting and the unnecessary overkill factor had a merciless feel rendering it authentically scary. Using meathooks, machetes and more, the characters of Mortal Kombat pull off such imaginative slaughter that the influence from such slashers as The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) and Friday 13th (1980) are impossible to ignore. 

Taking place in an alternate dimension of gruesome savagery and merciless, unparalleled punishment, the series invokes horrors similar to a lot of real-world mythologies. Reflecting this is a roster of characters ranging from sinister warriors protecting hellish realms, gods that crush craniums with their minds, a spectral ninja with a flaming skull, and a reptilian henchman wearing a disguise of human skin. Properly considered, every pore of the franchise seeps horror. It could even be said that MK deals more and more in cosmic horror with its inclusion of ‘Elder Gods’ and a rather Lovecraftian universal origin story involving ‘The One Being’. 

Mortal Combat scary tongue image

Mortal Kombat has always been a theatre of hideous monsters. Classic characters such as Baraka and Mileena, with their unreasonably large fangs, are born of inbreeding between demons and the citizens of Outworld; while more recent abominations include the insectile D’vorah, who spews swarms of insects and has a penchant for impaling opponents with her terrifying arachnid arms. 

https://youtu.be/rxYok_I9fMM

Mk’s horror influences are not entirely limited to slasher and monster movies either; Dark magic permeates the universe, with many fighters demonstrating occult practices. Quan Chi favours necromancy to meet his nefarious needs, while Ermac and Shang Tsung depend on tortured souls to fuel their power. These along with demons, terrifying warrior emperors and brutal multi-dimensional assassins mean the depth and depravity of Mortal Kombat’s character lore knows no limit.

Of course, a roster of savage fighters would be nothing without suitably horrifying places to fight. A good amount of MK’s arenas commonly involve floating spectral skulls, hanging corpses, unsettling faces watching from within sinister trees and lingering darknesses. Mortal Kombat’s arenas are some of the best in fighting game history, and the inclusion of interactive environments has arguably made them all the stronger. From Shang Tsung’s famous courtyard to The Pit, a precarious bridge over a dizzying drop into spike pits below, no fighter is safe from these death traps. Arguably the most gruesome of these is the Dead Pool, an underground dungeon of pure nightmares involving a reservoir of acid ready to consume the next unfortunate loser. 

Mortal Kombat knows exactly what it is, knows its audience and knows why it has had such a widespread appeal over the years. In this knowledge it has taken no effort in distancing itself from the horror scene, involving many of our favorite horror icons as playable characters such as Leatherface, the Xenomorph, Predator, Jason Voorhees, and Freddy Kreuger. It seems that characters must spill a considerable amount of blood before they can get into the kombat klub. Mortal Kombat is as close as we’re bound to get to an actual horror-themed fighting game and in this kombatant’s humble opinion, it’ll do nicely. 

Article originally posted on Beyond the Veil

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The Serpent and the Rainbow: Dissecting the Truth of Voodoo in Movies

Categories
Featured Reviews Scary Movies and Series
The Serpent and the Rainbow Movie Poster
The Serpent and the Rainbow (1988)

Even if you’ve never been buried alive, rest assured, this movie cannot hope to capture the terror that one must feel waking up to the darkness and heart-stopping fear of waking up in a coffin, with no possible hope of being rescued. If you have not yet seen The Serpent and the Rainbow (1988), then perhaps it’s time—this movie has aged well, at the time of this posting, it’s nearly thirty-two years old, still relevant and pretty terrifying through the right lens. Given the fact that this movie was created in the late eighties, it stands to reason that if it were remade, it could be given new life, it definitely has the potential with a higher-rated actor and better cinematography to be a more nail-biting journey to have a glimpse into what zombification in the voodoo culture is truly about. The Serpent and the Rainbow was based on a book with the same name and directed by Wes Craven—a highly regarded thrill-maker in his heyday—and is given the attribute of being inspired by a true story, which is believable considering the attention to detail that was paid to even the most insignificant aspects of the story.

“In the legends of voodoo
The Serpent is a symbol of Earth.
The Rainbow is a symbol of Heaven.
Between the two, all creatures must live and die.
But because he has a soul
Man can be trapped in a terrible place
Where death is only the beginning.”

The Serpent and the Rainbow (1988)

Set during the political unrest of Haiti in 1978, Dr. Dennis Alan (Bill Pullman), an anthropologist turned field-researcher has just come back from exploring for medicinal herbs and plants; he’s hailed as a hero at the biological research company, at which he works because he’s brought back medicines that no one before has ever been able to collect. No rest is given for the weary though and he’s immediately asked to go investigate the mysteries of zombification in Haiti—they have just come across evidence of a case eerily similar to that of real-life Clairvius Narcisse. Christophe was a man who died and was brought back to life. So, Dr. Alan sets off to find this mysterious zombification powder, something his bosses hope to find useful in their medical research.

Surprisingly, much of the lore of voodoo is represented quite faithfully, which has a lot to do with the fact that most of the movie was filmed on location during a time of political and social unrest; the scenes in which voodoo rituals occur, they were actually filming voodoo practitioners who were in a trance state. The authenticity of these scenes sets this movie apart from any other movie about voodoo that is out there, it can’t get more realistic than this without being an outright documentary. The whole movie was based loosely around The Serpent and the Rainbow (1985) a non-fiction book was written by Wade Davis. The author is to this day, an anthropologist who initially made himself famous by his research in the field of psychoactive plants; he was one of the first outsiders to gain access to the secrets of zombification and how the powder was created, which are highly guarded secrets in the community of voodoo in Haiti.

So, while simultaneously staying true to much of what voodoo is about and not intending to create a horror movie, director Wes Craven was somehow able to make the movie a psychological experience that kept it both interesting and entertaining, long enough to get to the meat and bones of the plot. Insights into the poorly staffed insane asylums and the psychological state of a person who had undergone the trauma of being drugged, declared dead, buried alive and then being dug up and made to serve a master, created an environment early in the movie that this entire expedition was going to be a dangerous one for Dr. Alan. Like a well-trained and eager anthropologist, our antagonist goes above and beyond what any sane field researcher would do, finding himself in graveyards searching for a mentally unstable resurrected Christophe, attending voodoo rituals in which he witnesses men chewing on fire and women eating glass, and running into an evil witch doctor, Peytraud, who does not want him to be successful in finding the secrets to zombification. It’s important to watch this movie without any lens of bias, as far as what valid religion and spiritual practice are, it requires people to be open to what is possible when belief in the strange and unnatural is strong and unwavering.

Possessing the knowledge that Wes Craven never intended this movie to be a horror flick, it’s quite easy to see past the dated effects and experience Dr. Alan’s nightmarish visions with the depth of fear that someone that has had the superstition of the land seeded into his brain. With an added element of complexity, Dr. Alan falls for the beautiful psychiatrist who aids him in his journey to the highly sought-after zombification powder, which allows him to be more easily manipulated by Peytraud who later has Dr. Alan in his clutches. The cinematography in the torture room of Peytraud is intense, especially considering the time in which the movie was made, the gore wasn’t a necessary element to induce fear in audiences. We know what is going to happen to our antagonist when we find him being strapped into a chair, with his underwear around his ankles, when Peytraud reveals a coffin nail and tells Dr. Alan that he wants to, “hear (him) scream.”

Dr. Alan drowning in blood in a nightmare in the serpent from the rainbow horror film
The Serpent and the Rainbow (1988)

Not to be deterred, we see the effects that Peytraud has had to Dr. Alan’s mental state, his nightmares and visions get worse—he’s being buried alive in his dreams, he screams as blood begins to fill the coffin and quickly consumes his body. Political tactics are taken to scare Dr. Alan into leaving Haiti without what he came for, which nearly works if it weren’t for his hidden ally who ends up sneaking it to him after he has been forced into a plane that will take him home. Threats of being arrested and executed have been levied on him, which means he has to leave his lover, Marielle (Cathy Tyson), behind despite the danger she would be in for her associations with him. The brief time back in Boston is punctuated with the powder having been researched, which the movie is also incredibly true to its source, noting that the subject would be aware of everything that was going on, while still appearing clinically dead. Peytraud shows himself through magical means, making it clear that he can reach Dr. Alan wherever he may be—his visions have not ceased since arriving back home. Dr. Alan returns to Haiti in order to make sure Marielle is safe, he finds the ally that gave him the powder has been executed for what he has done—this is where things truly turn bad for him.

Don’t let them bury me. I’m not dead.

Dr. Alan – The Serpent and the Rainbow (1988)

After having zombie powder blown into his face by one of Peytraud’s associates, Dr, Alan stumbles through the village and eventually falls to the ground, pale and apparently dying–he utters the words that the movie is famous for, “Don’t let them bury me. I’m not dead.” The fear in his eyes is not overplayed, in fact, this part was incredibly well done. After being declared dead in the hospital, we see Peytraud has taken control of his body and is seeing to it that Dr. Alan is put in the grave.

“When you wake up, Dr. Alan—scream.
Scream all you want, there is no escape from the grave.”

Peytraud – The Serpent and the Rainbow (1988)

Before watching this movie, I read reviews of it, so this is always where I was led to believe that the movie ended—our hero, the noble anthropologist, seeking secrets for the future of medicine gets buried alive and that’s that—the ultimate fear of someone who is claustrophobic, meeting their demise in a cramped box with severely limited oxygen. Except, this isn’t where we end—Christophe, comes to Dr. Alan’s rescue when he awakens from his drug-induced trance and begins to scream. In a moment of unexpected vulnerability, Christophe consoles the anthropologist, “You’re alive. You see things the living can’t see. In a daring rescue of his lover, Dr. Alan squares off against Peytraud where he encounters several setbacks and finally overcomes the mind control of his nemesis, defeats the bad guy, rescues the girl, and saves the day. His visions cease and we’re led to believe that he goes on to live a happy and full life.

All in all, this movie has stayed relevant over the past three decades and is highly recommended for being both unique and authentic in its representation of zombies. You’ve got to check this one out!

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