On of the writers I enjoy, John Hornor Jacobs, rode in an elevator with no lights today. I believe the exact tweet was:
“Got on an elevator. Realized too late that there were no lights on in it. Was cool for a second then kept waiting for the touch or whisper.”
As a horror junky, as someone who has never seen too much gore, terror and violence, I got to wondering if this something that, say, a RomCom fan would think. Because as soon as I saw that tweet, I knew that I would have thought the exact same thing. Even if I were to assume that it was a joke, I’d be terrified, waiting for someone to yell and grab me, or for the lights to flick on and see someone standing in the mirror behind me.
Whenever I think about the lasting effects of indulging in copious amounts of horror, I think of the flash of the movie Troy that I happened to catch. Let me set the scene for you, at least as much as I remember:
Hector (Eric Bana) kills Patroclus. Achilles (Brad Pitt), rides to the gates of Troy, alone, to challenge Hector. Umm…they fight. Yeah. Fight.
In the end, spoiler alert, Achilles slays Hector. What follows is this kind of drawn out scene where Brad Pitt is standing next to the dead body of Hector and staring up at Hector’s people, who are watching from along the wall surrounding Troy. This was the only part of the movie I managed to catch and I stood there, heart racing, hands clenched and breath held because…I was 99% positive Hector was going to shoot one long, dead arm out and grab Brad Pitt by the ankle, drag him to the ground, and start the fight all over. The entire time, I knew what the movie was about, what the story was, and how ridiculous that thought was but to my brain, in that instant, that’s what naturally followed. If Achilles knew horror like I know horror, bitch never would have stood that close to a dead body.