MR. HALLORANN
You know, some places are like people. Some shine, and some don’t.
—THE SHINING (1980)
Most of our horror movie enemies are people. Slashers, vampires, zombies, and ghosts all are or were human beings. Even aliens and demons fall under the sentient being umbrella. But sometimes evil has no flesh. Sometimes it lurks not in the hearts of men, but in bricks and mortar. Chrome and steel. Antique tea sets. Inanimate enemies can be even harder to defeat than their able-bodied counterparts. You ever try to stab a three-bedroom Colonial?
Believe me, it’s not very effective.
In the old days, spotting a haunted house was a piece of cake. It was always the creepy Victorian with the unmowed lawn and freakishly large weather vane.
But that was then. In the modern Terrorverse, it doesn’t matter if the house is falling apart or brand-spanking new, sitting atop Graveyard Hill or shoehorned into an exclusive gated community. Any combination of wood, concrete, and paint can be haunted. And for that reason, every horror homeowner should know what to do in the event of a ghost or poltergeist infiltration.
Remember: In horror movies, you don’t gut the interior … the interior guts you.
1. CONFIRM THAT THE HOUSE IS HAUNTED. Just because your zip code is 00666 doesn’t mean you have to run screaming every time a floorboard creaks. Even in the Terrorverse, sometimes a strange noise is just a strange noise. On the other hand, sometimes it’s a portal to a dimension of unspeakable evil.
To help homeowners tell the difference, two professors at the University of Eastern West Berlin (Drs. Brenton Sabellico and Eric Dugre) came up with their famous questionaire of the 10 Questions in 1964. Homeowners simply circle “Yes” or “No” after each question. If you answer “Yes” to three or more of these questions, we can conclude beyond any reasonable doubt that your house is haunted. Proceed to step 2 immediately.
2. ONCE YOU’VE CONFIRMED THE HAUNTING, LEAVE IMMEDIATELY. There are two things you can’t change in this world: a husband who lets the dishes pile up, and a haunted house. Both lead to nothing but frustration, fear, and, eventually, a gruesome death. If the 10 Questions come back positive for a haunting, get out. Don’t pack up your things. Don’t go for one last dip in the half-finished swimming pool. Run. Now.
3. ESCAPE ON AN X AXIS. If the Y axis measures something’s vertical position, the X axis refers to its horizontal location. Now, this next point is very important:
Inside a haunted house, moving along the Y axis gets you killed.
If you’re upstairs, do not go downstairs. If you’re downstairs, do not go upstairs. Zigzag to your heart’s content. Run around in circles. Whatever you do, maintain altitude. If you’re on the second floor of a haunted house, crash through the nearest window. In fact, do the same thing if you’re on the first floor. Yes, you’ll probably get hurt. But cuts and bruises are better than having your soul sucked into purgatory with a bunch of dead people who lost their road map to Hell.
4. BE ON THE ALERT FOR COMMON HAUNTED HOUSE TRICKERY. You’re eager to leave, but the house is just as eager to keep you around. Once it realizes you’re trying to escape, it’ll throw every trick in the bag at you.
The Endless Hallway. A classic. As you run toward that door to salvation, the hallway becomes longer … longer … impossibly long. Countermeasure: A burst of willpower is usually all it takes. But closing your eyes is an easier way of neutralizing the effect. Just stick your arms out, and feel your way down the hall.
The Zero-Gravity Room. You’re dragged up the walls by some unseen force. Countermeasure: Easy. Sing Lionel Richie’s “Dancing on the Ceiling” and act like you’re having the time of your life. The house will vomit you out the front door.
Coffin Whack-a-Mole. All the coffins from the graveyard you (so rudely) built a house on start shooting through the floor. Countermeasure: Inappropriately grope the corpses. The house will vomit you out the front door.
The Reappearance of a Dead Friend/Child. As the house becomes desperate, it’ll deliver some low blows. The most common is recreating someone who’s recently died. “Mommy … where are you going? Why are you leaving me?” Countermeasure: If the house isn’t pulling any punches, neither should you. Address the “person” in front of you as the house, and tell it something that will set it off. Something like: “You should know … I’ve been sleeping in a condo.”
5. DO NOT GO BACK INSIDE. If you do manage to escape, don’t look back. Keep running, no matter how many screams echo through the night and no matter how fun it might be to watch the house fold itself into a point of light no bigger than the period at the end of this sentence. Never, ever go back.
Unless it’s for the dog.
The engine purrs, the doors lock, and Martha and the Vandellas’ “Nowhere to Run” crackles over the radio. Just one little problem:
You haven’t put the key in the ignition yet.
Cars and trucks are dangerous enough when someone’s behind the wheel. When they start driving themselves? You might as well give Helen Keller a bazooka. In horror movies, once a vehicle becomes self-aware, there’s only one thing it wants in its tank: blood. And until it’s topped off (or sent back to the scrap heap of Hell), no one’s safe. It won’t break down, it won’t misjudge a corner, and it definitely won’t stop until everything in its path is road kill.
1. IF YOU’RE IN THE VEHICLE, GET THE HELL OUT. Cars and trucks can take punishment that would turn the human body into a bag of liquefied organs. Knowing this, the naughty ones often go Kamikaze, locking their prey inside and kissing a telephone pole at 90 miles an hour. Result? They get towed, you get buried.
If you’re trapped inside a stationary evil vehicle, use anything you can to smash a window, climb out, and run. However, in the more likely event that the vehicle is moving, you’re going to have to smash that window and jump for it before you become a permanent part of the steering column.
1. Apply the emergency brake. This might slow you down slightly (assuming the vehicle lets you engage the brake). If it’s a manual transmission, you can try downshifting. But don’t get your hopes up—most evil vehicles don’t accept user input.
2. Jump perpendicular to the direction of the vehicle. Don’t fling yourself under the rear tires, which would be counterproductive to your survival.
3. Aim for a forgiving landing site. Grass, sand, and tall brush are more preferable to pavement. Anything’s preferable to a tree trunk.
4. Tuck and roll. As you fly through the air, pull your arms, legs, and head close to your chest. When you hit the ground, roll to dissipate the energy of your impact.
2. IF YOU’RE NOT IN THE VEHICLE, SCAN YOUR IMMEDIATE SURROUNDINGS. You may be safe from spilling your brains all over the dash, but you can still be rammed, crushed, and run over. Take a quick look around—is there anything to shelter you from an attack?
Things that will provide protection from evil vehicles:
High ground. This might come in the form of a steep, gravel-covered hill, cliff, or rooftop—preferably one that’s attached to a sturdy building.
Deep water. An 18-wheeler can do a lot of things, but swimming isn’t one of them. If there’s a lake, river, or ocean anywhere in sight, get wet.
Industrial buildings. Is there an office tower nearby? A shopping mall? School? Concrete is your friend.
The woods. In most horror movies, the last thing you want to do is run into the woods. But if the trees are dense enough, they’ll stop most vehicles in their tracks. Now all you have to worry about are the 3,000 other things coming to kill you.
Things that won’t provide protection from evil vehicles:
Single-family homes. Anything with a wooden frame can be breached by an evil vehicle.
Chain-link fencing. In movies, chain-link fencing might as well be rice paper with a bull’s-eye on it.
Utility poles and radio towers. They certainly qualify as high ground, but they’re too flimsy—especially if your pursuer is an evil truck or a construction vehicle.
Other vehicles. This is a horror movie, remember? Any car you enter is guaranteed to have a faulty engine.
3. COUNTERATTACK. Hopefully, once you’ve found a safe place, the vehicle will get frustrated and drive off to its next victim. But if it keeps coming, you have no choice but to engage—and quickly. Waiting it out is not an option. For starters, the evil vehicle can wait a lot longer than you can. Also, it can summon other vehicles to its aid at any minute. And if that happens, there’s not an office tower in the world that will protect you. There are only two surefire ways to bring down an evil vehicle:
Shred the tires. Depending on just how evil it actually is, a vehicle might have the ability to repair itself. But that ability is almost always limited to its metal portions. Therefore, evil cars and trucks have an Achilles heel—four of them, actually. Find a way to pop the tires, and your enemy will be struggling to back out of the driveway.
Torch it. Fire: the great horror movie equalizer. Flames wreak havoc on everything from wiring to upholstery, and once the flames reach the gas tank …
4. MAKE SURE IT’S DEAD. When the evil engine finally gives out, you need to move quickly to make sure it stays dead for good. First, crush it. This will require speed, since the car might be trying to repair itself. If you don’t have access to a junkyard compactor, drag it to the bottom of a hill and roll a boulder onto it. Or take it to the woods and cut a sequoia down to fall on it. Or park it on some train tracks. Be as creative as you want, but work fast.
Once you’ve smashed it to bits, gather up all the metal scraps and take them to a steel mill. Melt the scraps into liquid and have it cast into several small ingots. Take the ingots out to sea (a deep lake will do) and throw them in the water one by one, letting great distances pass between each ingot’s watery grave, just to be on the safe side.
5. MAKE SURE IT NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN. If you want to permanently keep your car in neutral (paranormally speaking), consider the following:
Don’t give your car a pet name. Not only is it dangerous, it’s downright pathetic. Stop buffing the hood with a diaper and go find out what it feels like to kiss a girl.
Buy foreign. I’m just as red, white, and blue as the next guy, but facts are facts—97 percent of all the evil vehicles featured in horror movies rolled out of the Motor City.
Go two-wheeling. Motorcycles, scooters, and dirt bikes can’t become self-steering killers, due to the fact that they’d fall over once they stopped moving. An evil scooter only deserves to be laughed at.
WHEN PURSUED BY AN EVIL VEHICLE, SEEK SAFETY IN THE WATER.
EJECTION SEAT #3:
THE AWKWARD PRODUCT PLACEMENT
Should you find yourself in the clutches of certain death—fangs to your neck, knife to your throat—there are only four proven methods of making a last-minute escape, methods called Ejection Seats because of their drastic, last-resort nature.
Ejection Seat #3 is the Awkward Product Placement. What’s the hero’s favorite beer? Chances are, the brand that’s just written a big check to the producers. Product placement is a much-loved means of padding a movie’s budget, but the filmmakers usually take great care to keep it subtle. After all, you can’t have your characters making obvious pitches.
If you find yourself cornered by a horror villain, try buying precious time with the clumsiest, cheesiest advertisement you can imagine. Doing so will confuse your attacker, and maybe—just maybe—allow you to escape.
I may be crying, but it’s not because of soapy eyes! That’s because I use …
(turn to imaginary camera)
Pupil Soft Shampoo, from the good people at McMillan’s!
YOU
You can crush my skull, but you can’t crush my thirst …
(turn to imaginary camera)
The way a refreshing Blue Bird Cola can!
YOU
There’s no need to clean out my bowels with that machete! Just use …
(turn to imaginary camera)
Gut Grease natural laxative—the brand trusted by more astronauts!
Sometimes deadly things come in small packages.
The world’s worst pickup line, but a superb reminder for anyone trapped in a horror movie. Dolls have always been vessels for evil, whether it’s the wooden dummy who’s sick of having someone’s hand up its bad place, the marionette that cuts its own strings, or the child’s toy that’s through having its buttons pushed. It doesn’t matter if they’re powered by dead serial killers, brought to life by ancient curses, or just plain evil—they have to be taken seriously, no matter how cute their little scaled-down overalls are.
1. KICK THE CRAP OUT OF IT. Even if you’re 12 years old, you’re probably five to seven times larger than your attacker. Why are you running away from something that could be imprisoned with Legos? Before you resort to the fancy tactics that follow, crack your knuckles, step in the ring, and take your yarn-haired nemesis for a stroll down Pain Lane. Rip its limbs off. Pull its stuffing out. Hold it by the feet and whack its head against the sidewalk. There’s a reason dolls have to rely on stealth and trickery to kill—they’re not very strong. You, on the other hand, have the gift of brute force.
2. MAKE THE PUPPETEERS MISERABLE. You lost a fistfight to a doll? Well … OK, try some other tactics (but I don’t recommend you go around telling people).
The filmmakers have painted themselves in a bit of a corner. A slasher or werewolf can be played by a guy in a suit, but a tiny doll forces them to rely on special effects—namely animatronics controlled by off-screen puppeteers. That means the bad guy has to be connected to a bunch of wires, and those wires need to be hidden. This severely limits the little bugger’s movements. If you’re still running away (from a doll, mind you), these tactics will make it next to impossible for the tiny terror to give chase:
Get some fresh air. The killer doll’s natural habitat is indoors, because it’s easiest for the filmmakers to hide its gadgetry by cutting holes in sofas or building false floors. City streets and grassy fields present a whole truckload of problems for the effects department.
Go for a dip. The thought of getting wet sends chills down the artificial spines of killer dolls (and their puppeteers). With all those electronic components, swimming is suicide.
Pick the doll up. Yes, I know it’s trying to chase you down and stab you, but hear me out. If you pick it up and hold it over your head, there will be nowhere to hide the wires, and thus no way for the doll to move.
3. EMPLOY PROVEN ANTI-DOLL TECHNOLOGY. Being trapped in a killer doll movie is like winning the horror lottery. Let’s face it—you have to be an idiot to get knocked off in one. Imagine the last thing you ever saw was a Cabbage Patch Kid standing over you with a knife. Imagine dying with that deep sense of shame.
LIL’ RANDY
(licks knife)
You’re my best pal!
YOU
(dying)
I’ll see you in Hell, you son … you son of a … bitch …
Luckily, you don’t have to, because there are a few easily accessible weapons that no killer doll can survive:
Fire. Propane torches, furnaces, or cigarette lighters—any source will do. Your attacker is made of polyester stuffing and cheap plastic. He’ll burn up faster than a Death Valley match factory.
Dogs. Killer dolls are terrified of dogs, probably because dogs love killer dolls. Namely, shaking them around, pulling their insides out, and eating their plastic buttons. And while dogs can be killed in certain horror movies, they’re invincible in schlocktastic killer-doll flicks.
Toddlers. Of all the doll’s enemies, none is more feared than the common human toddler. Falling into the hands of a toddler is a fate worse than death, for it means suffering through an endless parade of tea parties, nap times, and dress-ups. And there’s not a damn thing they can do about it, since no horror movie would ever let them kill the kid off.
IF YOU’RE UNDER ATTACK BY A KILLER DOLL, SIMPLY KICK THE CRAP OUT OF IT.
10 THINGS TO NEVER, EVER, EVER PUT IN A CHILD’S ROOM
1. Any representation of a clown. Whether it’s stuffed, painted, or otherwise.
2. Indoor play tents. Anything that obstructs the child’s view of the room (or your view of the child) is a no-no.
3. Windows. In horror movies, windows are things that kids get snatched out of by vampires and scary trees.
4. Doors. Does this sound familiar? You hear the children screaming and run to their room, only to have the door slammed in your face by whatever ghost is about to eat their soul.
5. One of those toy monkeys that bang cymbals together. These serve absolutely no purpose other than coming to life when something scary is about to happen.
6. Framed photographs of dead relatives. Or photographs of any dead people, for that matter. It doesn’t matter if the images are of Abe Lincoln or Mother Teresa.
7. Ouija boards. Come on.
8. Any crucifix featuring an open-eyed Jesus. Directors love cutting to “creepy-pupils Jesus” to build dramatic tension. Don’t hand them an invitation.
9. Beds with more than four inches between the box spring and floor. The bed’s legs should also be chained to the floor, and younger kids should sleep wearing a climbing harness tethered to a secured steel cable (in case of an attempted spiritual abduction).
10. Closets. What are you, crazy? Nail the door shut and buy a dresser.
Some inanimate objects are always bad: classic American cars (see this page), intricately decorated boxes that may or may not open portals to Hell, and anything that gives its owner godlike powers. There’s the family heirloom. The haunted computer. Hell, even cell phones are deadly these days.
SATAN
(into phone)
Can you fear me now? Good.
But what about objects that don’t fall under the “automatically evil” umbrella?
1. ASK YOURSELF: ARE NAZIS LOOKING FOR THIS OBJECT? If Der Führer wants it, it can’t be good.
2. DETERMINE THE OBJECT’S COUNTRY OR REGION OF ORIGIN. You can take the item out of the evil, but you can’t take the evil out of the item. Some parts of the horror globe (and galaxy) are particularly good at churning out dangerous artifacts and wicked trinkets. If your object’s “Made in …” label ends with any of the following places, exercise extreme caution:
Egypt. According to Hollywood, every last pebble in the Nile Valley is a gateway to some ancient evil. So remember, “If it comes from a tomb, it leads to doom.”
Sub-Saharan Africa. It’s widely accepted that all African villages have demons that spend their time possessing young local girls. Therefore, any hand-crafted souvenirs (especially tribal masks) from that continent are likely carrying some residual evil.
The southwestern United States and Central Mexico. Any arrowheads, gold charms, or wood carvings you find in these regions are usually vessels for Indian or Aztec curses.
The Caribbean. In the eyes of Hollywood screenwriters, everything in the Caribbean is tainted with Voodoo.
Outer space. Objects from space are universally bad for horror movie humans. They’re either carrying (1) space flu, (2) alien eggs/parasites, or (3) flesh-eating hairballs.
3. DETERMINE HOW THE OBJECT CAME INTO YOUR POSSESSION. If any of these sound familiar, the object is almost certainly evil:
You unearthed it. Here’s a cardinal horror movie rule: Anything you cover with dirt becomes evil. Whether you’re an archeologist or gardener, objects found buried in the earth should be left there, no matter if they’re one or 1,000,000 years old.
You bought it at a charming antique shop. Oops … all antiques are evil. Even worse, they come with a no-returns policy. (If you run back to the store to return it, you’ll invariably discover that the store burned down 10 years ago. Ahhhhhhhh!!!!)
You found it next to a smoking crater. As a rule, any object found in the vicinity of a smoking crater, whether resulting from a meteor strike or alien crash, should not be touched.
It was handed to you by a pale, sweaty priest who mumbled something about “seeing the face of the beast,” then died. Ouch. You’d better pray he was high on LSD.
You stole it. You’re toast. In horror movies, anything you take from its rightful owner comes with a 100-percent-cursed guarantee.
4. CHECK FOR TELLTALE “EVIL OBJECT” FEATURES. These design elements are good indicators that the object in question is evil:
Unnecessary faces. Evil objects are often decorated with faces that serve no purpose other than being scary. Door knockers. Banisters. Canes. If it’s something the director can show in close-up to build tension, it’s probably evil.
An overly complex, puzzle-like locking mechanism. Evil chests and ancient books are often secured with ridiculously overengineered locks. The reason is simple: The longer it takes for something to open after the key is turned, the more suspense.
Words from a nonexistent language. How do you know if the language is nonexistent? Easy. If you can’t read it, it doesn’t exist. Better to play it safe.
Human skin. Anything that’s covered in human skin (other than humans) is always evil.
5. USE THE DOG TEST. Canines are more than bed hogs and volunteer vacuum cleaners—they’re evil detectors. If there’s even the slightest whiff of paranormal peril, they’ll sniff it out. And when they do, how they react will tell you what level of evil you’re dealing with:
A) Spot takes no interest in the object. The object is not evil. Feel free to display it on your mantle. Give Spot a rawhide for his troubles.
B) Spot barks at the object. Best-case scenario, the object is merely inhabited by a friendly ghost. Worst-case scenario, the object is a bridge over which the armies of Hell will march into our world. Dispose of it immediately.
C) Spot pees on the floor and runs away. The object is evil. Dispose of it immediately. Don’t forget to clean your floor.
D) Spot drops dead on the spot. Run screaming from your home and never return. Make no attempt to contact family members you left behind. Start a new life restoring boats in a small seaside town in Mexico.
6. PROPERLY DISPOSE OF THE EVIL OBJECT. Once you’ve determined that an object is evil, don’t go tossing it off a bridge for some other unlucky schlub to find—make sure it disappears for good:
• If the object is paper or wood, burn it to ash, mix the ashes with equal parts holy water, and use the resulting paste to paint a portrait of a smiling Jesus.
• If the object is metal, melt it down and turn it into a pair of crutches for a wounded veteran.
• If the object is plastic, use acetone (nail polish remover) to turn the object into a pile of smelly goop, light the highly flammable pile on fire, and use the resulting ash to paint a portrait of a smiling Jesus.
• If the object is stone, break it up into small pieces, and use those pieces as slingshot ammo to hold back the Nazis from step 1.
KNOW YOUR HARBINGERS OF IMPENDING DOOM: LIGHT
In the Terrorverse, light is usually your friend. It cuts through the menacing night, chases away the shadows where creatures lurk, and blinds night-vision equipped serial killers. But there are times when light is the last thing you want to see. Especially when it’s coming from something (or somewhere) it shouldn’t:
ANYTHING THAT ISN’T A BULB OR FLAME. There are some things—wood, metal, briefcases, stone—that aren’t supposed to give off light. If they do, don’t stare in slack-jawed fascination. Run.
KEYHOLES. If there’s a powerful beam of light shooting through a keyhole, you can bet there’s something very, very nasty on the other side of the door.
EYES. Light only radiates from the pupils of evil creatures, and it usually signals an imminent attack.
MOUTHS. If light is pouring from your mouth, you’re about to be torn to shreds from the inside out and transported to another dimension—probably a bad one.
NOWHERE. The worst place light can come from is nowhere. Only the most powerful creatures are capable of self-illumination—namely demons and false gods. For dramatic effect, they’ll backlight themselves to constantly appear in silhouette.