The Terror of Glaciers

Photo by Jonatan Pie on Unsplash

So I realized that this is slowly becoming a series on my blog because I really like finding horror in everyday places, and sometimes not-so-everyday ones. I’ve tackled creepy corridors and the dread of the ocean, and I think now that this makes three entries I figured it needed a name. So this is now called the Everyday Fear series, where I tackle this topic and take requests for more areas to explore. Whether it’s something simple like an architecture design or a part of the natural world, I enjoy getting to research and explore the creepy factor!

For this next entry in the Everyday Fear series, I had a fantastic recommendation last week from Priscilla Bettis. (She recently had a horror short story picked up! You should totally go give her blog some love!) She recommended I tackle a location that she herself found frightening, the inside of a glacier.

Now if you’re new to my blog, you may not be familiar with this, but I am a huge wildlife and nature buff. I love watching nature documentaries so my brain is jam packed full of weird little tidbits about nature and unique places around the world.

First, a little bit first about glaciers. They are huge slabs of ice that are partially visible but are mostly submerged underwater. They are also constantly shifting and moving, so you can often hear the movements of the glacier while inside of it. When a glacier calves it can be enormous and incredibly destructive. Here is a short video called “Chasing Ice”, the largest glacier calving ever caught on film.

Chasing Ice: The largest glacier calving ever recorded.

I’ve never been inside of a glacier, but I have been inside of a cave before in a visit to Tennessee’s The Lost Sea. There’s always that fear in the back of your mind that the cavern will cave in. There’s always that fear of how much weight is hanging over your head, and what could cause it to collapse. Being in a glacier where you’re hearing the ice moving and buckling the entire time you’re inside of it, knowing that something as simple as a temperature change could cause it crashing down on you, can be absolutely terrifying.

Now, after everything I’ve said, would you believe that there are glacier climbers as well? They have to be very careful about which glaciers they climb since choosing one that is close to melting or one that is calving would be super dangerous. It’s risky because science can’t completely guarantee that the glacier won’t collapse.

Dani Arnold climbs out of a glacier

What places would you like me to tackle next in this series? Have you been somewhere and felt a little voice in the back of your mind whisper those little words: “What if…”? Share them below and I might include it next!

The Dread and Fear of the Ocean

While on a trip down to Florida years ago, we had the benefit of staying in a hotel right on the ocean. The sand dunes ended only a foot away from the wall of the hotel. It was beautiful, but there was also a sense of urgency to it. In a few years it was likely the ocean waters would rise enough to flood the bottom floor of the building. At night a lightening storm blew in from the ocean, and we turned out the lights to our hotel room and sat staring out with the window open to our balcony.

Photo by Nicolas Jossi on Unsplash

The ocean was completely black and it was too dark to even see the sand or the waves crashing in the distance. All we could see was emptiness. In the intense blackness the roar of the ocean was like a train that wouldn’t stop. Not even flashes of lightening would illuminate the water below or hint at the thrashing waves. In that moment, it was easy to imagine how terrifying it would be to see a dinosaur emerge from the sea to snatch its prey. It was easy to imagine how a ship would get misdirected and crash against unseen rocks. It was easy to see how dangerous it would be out on the ocean in that storm.

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of respect and adoration the ocean gives. It is both beautiful but at the same time dangerous.

In a separate post I made about creepy corridors, I briefly talk about how vulnerable it can feel to be on a boat in the middle of the ocean. At night when I slept listening to the motor of the ship humming in its belly, I wondered what I would do if the engine stopped, or if I would hear the squeal of metal, or if the alert sounded in the middle of the night. Needless to say it took some time to sleep the first couple of nights. During the day the ocean provided a beautiful picturesque paradise and I absolutely adored being able to watch the ship break through the waves. At night however it could be alarming to look out during a storm and see only empty ocean in every direction. (The stargazing, however, was incredible.)

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

I loved going to the beach, going on cruises, and appreciating the ocean (back when I could), but it’s good to have a healthy respect for it too. Movies and pictures don’t quite grasp the chilling emptiness that comes from looking out at a black, stormy ocean and realizing that anything could be out there.

Or maybe that’s just my love of monsters talking…

Do you have any creepy stories about the ocean that you’ve experienced? Do you know of any other places you want me to tackle in my horror analyses? Let me know below!

Speaking of monsters, I recently wrote a horror short story with mermaids and pirates titled “The Mermaid’s Kiss”. Expect to see more about it soon. Make sure you subscribe to my mailing list to get all the latest updates about my writing including a sort-of-secret project I’m working on.

Creepy Corridors: Why We Love Them In Horror

One of the first films I saw that really brought attention to the dread of walking down hallways by yourself was in The Shining. Little Danny Torrence would pedal along on his toy bike and you would get accustomed to the drumming of the wheels as it moved from wood to carpet to wood again. At first in the film it seems like a cute way for the kid to pass the time. But then as the film progresses, and Danny starts to experience the supernatural activity of the Overlook, that’s when each turn in the hallway makes your heartrate speed up.

Danny Torrence from The Shining

This weekend while doing research on a cruise ship, my family would help to point out particularly disturbing corridors. That is of course one of the benefits of telling your fellow travelers that you are doing research for a horror book. “Oh, Lena, you’ve got to get a picture of that one!” I would hear as they point down a cramped two flights of stairs shoved into a corner of a hallway. Or “Okay, this place just feels like a horror movie,” when we went to find a restroom in a large concrete stairwell complete with exposed ceiling pipes and wiring. I loved it of course, and snapped pictures like crazy. It got me wondering though, what is it about these places that really puts us on edge? Why do we instantly think that these places are ideal for horror scenes?

The first obvious answer is that there’s limited sight. Stairwells are particularly bad about this, and you could easily have someone several floors up following or watching you if the middle of the stairwell is open. In The Shining, little Danny Torrence turns each corner, not sure what he’s going to encounter each time. The tension increases throughout the film even though it’s literally just a kid on his bike.

The second answer is how cramped they are. That tiny stairwell down to the next floor that almost looks like it was forgotten? There isn’t much space to move there, and if you got partway down the steps and saw someone wielding a chainsaw running toward you, there would be little time to get out of the way. When you’re on a ship as well, there’s a very real sense when you’re out on the ocean of how isolated you are. The only way to leave the ship in a hurry is with the lifeboats on board, which is both exciting and frightening.

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See? Very cramped stairwell

Finally, the longer the hallway, the fewer places to run. The first time I went on a cruise I was daunted by how long the halls were for rooms. Staring down the hallway and seeing the length of space you would have to walk just to get to the main section of the ship was surprising. I’d seen ship cabins in videos before, but rarely those long halls. You get a real sense that there’s very little space to run there. There’s either forwards or backwards because every door you pass is locked. Again not only are you isolated, but you’re also very visible.

“Cruise Ship Hallway” by Satanizmihomedog on DeviantArt

Writers and film directors have recognized the innate fear that these spaces carry and have been exploiting them for decades. That stairwell with the exposed pipes and wires that we found could have easily been a filming location for the Nostromo ship from Alien. On the ship it was built for utility, but in the world of writing, it’s a perfect place for an ambush. These hallways don’t have to apply to ships either. I’ve seen plenty of buildings with halls so narrow that turning that right corner could have you running into someone if you’re not careful. Danny Torrence found that out the hard way.

What kind of hallways or stairwells have you found particularly creepy? Do you have any pictures? I would love to see them!