I’ve always had a sneaking fondness for horror films. Growing up, my favourites were the old-school ones with dodgy prosthetics, creaking doors, flickering candles, and Indian burial grounds.
There was something cathartic about watching scary things happening to other people, knowing you were safe in your room… or were you? (Hollow laughter echoes). Plus you felt secure knowing that you were smarter than the idiots investigating the creepy noises, in the cellar, by themselves, in their underwear.
Emma Scrivener
Three ways God might be using horror films
I’ve always had a sneaking fondness for horror films. Growing up, my favourites were the old-school ones with dodgy prosthetics, creaking doors, flickering candles, and Indian burial grounds.
There was something cathartic about watching scary things happening to other people, knowing you were safe in your room… or were you? (Hollow laughter echoes). Plus you felt secure knowing that you were smarter than the idiots investigating the creepy noises, in the cellar, by themselves, in their underwear.