As a Christian I don't like to admit that I love horror, mainly because of how dark it is. Anything that has to do with horror I just want to pick it up and snuggle it like a teddy bear. This reflects within my writing as well. Even my more lighthearted stories seem to always have a moment, a page, even a second of darkness thrown into it. A mystery is not a mystery to me if it isn't a scary one. Maybe that is why I love horror to begin with, because of the mystery behind it. If the ending to a movie or game can keep me asking questions I'm a happy customer. I don't always enjoy closure. Sometimes I want to just keep asking. But I digress. From my last blog post I talked about my first fanfic based off of NIGHTS: Into Dreams. Well my stories took a drastic turn from the lighthearted stories of the little jester of Nightopia to something more horrific when my brothers friend happen to stay the night and I got my first glimpse of Resident Evil. Yes, THE very first Resident Evil. Looking at it now you'd find it ridiculous how anyone could be scared with the horrible graphics and even worse voice acting (which I wasn't use to yet. I had only played games without voices aside from Star Fox where they talked gibberish) . I remember staying up all night with the lights off just watching my brother freak out at every corner as zombies burst from closets and dogs jumped through windows in narrow hallways. Keep in mind that I was jumping just as much. But at the end of the night I didn't find myself covering my eyes and when the game finally turned off I only was only begging for more.
It wasn't nightmares or thumps in the dark that kept me up for the rest of the night but the excitement, the thrill of bullets ripping through zombie flesh and they mystery of each room, wonders of what was behind the next door. I was so upset at my brother when I awoke the next day and found him playing without me conscious to watch, but how could I blame him? It was possibly the greatest game I had ever spent time watching. In fact, prior to that, my brother and I would argue about who would use the TV next. Now I found myself waiting for him to go play!
Well, like I said before, that is when my stories took a darker turn. My third through sixth grade teacher was my only reader at this time (not that I have many readers now...) and she would try and read every single thing I wrote even when the class stressed her out. She enjoyed my writing and encouraged me to continue writing. Well one day I decided to write a story that was dangerously close to Resident Evil. If I remember it was about a man in a manor who couldn't leave for some ridiculous reason and throughout the manor he found clues leading to something about his daughter or something... I can't quite remember. All that I remember was adding a lot of dark sayings (like itchie, tasty. Anyone remember that guy?) and blood. Needless to say, a conference was called with my mother to discuss the sudden change in my writing which ended in my brother getting yelled at and me not being allowed to watch my brother play games anymore. Of course, this only made me want more. Isn't that how it always is? You want it more when denied? Anyway, I think that's where my more darker writing began. Of course that isn't the darkest! But that will be for my next post. Those who know me already know where I'm going with this...
God Bless you all and I hope you're all having a great, not so dark day! As for me... I'm sick. As is the entire family. So... Back to bed! Or writing... Either one.
No comments:
Post a Comment