Kill Creek

by Scott Thomas

A house stained by spilled blood cannot escape the harsh sentence passed by rumor.

Because of its size and grand architecture, the house did not remain empty forever. A few tried to call it home. Yet no one felt completely welcome in the house, and most moved out within a year. They could not explain why they were compelled to abandon it. It was as if the walls refused to absorb their warmth.

The house on Kill Creek still stands. Empty. Quiet. But not forgotten. Not entirely. Rumors are its life, stories its breath.

So why don’t these feel as entrenched in the Gothic tradition as other horror movies?”

“One: Emanation from a Single Location,”

“Two: a Sense of Forbidden History.

Doesn't Elm Street have this? He seems to be using Elm Street and Saw as gothic examples that slipped through the cracks.

“Three: an Atmosphere of Decay and Ruin.

Saw has this element of corruption and decay. (Again, I'm noting this because he seems to be contrasting Elm Street/Saw as anti-gothic gothic.)

“Four: Corruption of the Innocent.

the flame dancing as if her eyes were on fire.

Fire and burning recurring motif

“We own the rights. You had your pass at the screenplay. Our deal with you is done. And now we’re going to make Cutter the way we see it. Hell, we’ll probably end up changing the fucking title too. You know, to something less grotesque. You want to scream and stomp your stilettos at somebody, try the lawyer who made your deal in the first place. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to finish my steak. I might even order dessert. You can stay or you can go. It’s up to you.”

I'm on the studio's side tbh

Sleep. He needed sleep. He had to teach at ten o’clock in the morning, and the five beers he’d consumed were going to make it even harder to shake off the haze of exhaustion.

Lol five beers

men who worked hard and drank harder, the women who loved them,

Gross. He can die in the haunted house p&ty

pound, pound, pound

An echo of Sam's blink blink blink

her naked body kissed by the early-morning sunlight.

Ugh and bored

Let them curl up in their easy chairs with that crusty old Sebastian Cole bullshit.

Another ugh: I bet this is a telegraph of some (not very convincing) sexual will-they-won't-they tension

She would leave them all behind. They were already little more than blurry mile markers in her rearview mirror.

So far they're both so unpleasant, neither seems all that innocent per his opening rules.

A silver nail

OH MY GOD I KNOW HER NAILS ARE SILVER AND THAT SHE'S EDGY AND COOL

Maybe he should have been harder on the kid. Maybe he should have whipped him a few times when he was younger. Really taken the belt to him. Toughened him up.

Maybe this book isn't very good? Also this guy can get killed the fuck dead by the haunted house

Cappie was not a superstitious man. He did not believe in God.

Echo of Sam's assertion that belief in the supernatural means a belief in an afterlife means a belief in God

The crossroads of pleasure and pain.

G E N U G

No last name.

Just like that Irish fella from a couple chapters ago whose name i dont remember but it starts with a W

“That’s Kubaba. She was a Sumerian queen—” “I’m in a bit of a hurry here, Chad,” Moore interrupted. “You can spare me the history lesson.” “I just thought you might like to know—” “About the only queen on the Sumerian King List? Ruled in the Third Dynasty of the Kish? Started her career as a tavern keeper before becoming one of the most powerful women in the world and later a Mesopotamian goddess, worshipped by multiple cults well into the second century? How am I doing?”

Man I want her to get VERY murdered by the haunted house

ran a silver-nailed thumb over her name.

I'm done knowing this detail

“Him, I believe. But his followers . . .” She shrugged. “Or maybe WrightWire is more middle-of-the-road than I thought.” Sam stiffened at the slight. “I prefer mainstream,” he said. “I’m sure you do,” Moore replied.

Uch here we go

Slaughter asked, tugging the bottom of his polo down over his bulging belly.

Oh fuck off dude

He eagerly thrust out a chubby paw

WE GET IT. Dude is fat and the lady has silver nails and is fiercely sexual.

The entire room was illuminated from above. There at the far end of the conference table was Wainwright, in the flesh, standing casually with his hands in his pockets.

What even blog would have the money to do any/all of this

Her hair was a beautiful, lush bed of natural curls,

“Or you can come with me to Kill Creek and, by the first of November, you won’t just be the four most famous horror authors on the planet; you’ll be the four most famous authors on the planet.”

Dude is REALLY overselling how interested in writers anyone is

as if it were relieved to be temporarily rid of his bulk.

OH IS HE FAT I FORGOT

actually feel it in his thick fingers,

[HARD EYEROLL]

He rocked forward in the bed, but the pillow-top mattress seemed to only sink beneath his immense weight.

At some point this will become funny via repetition. Homer_steps_on_too_many_rakes.gif

Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail.

I... dont think he knows as much about black hair as he thinks he knows about black hair

his face smooth and strangely artificial

Dude's probably going to be a robit

based on the considerable bulge hanging over.

He likes that we’re in the dark, Sam thought.

Then why was he JUST mad about no one reading the book

Once again, Wainwright looked to Kate, and Sam could see that he was grinning. He gave a sharp nod, and Kate obeyed the order, whipping the camera up and instantly recording.

She only NOW starts filming?

One tree remained, an ancient, gnarled forty-foot beech, growing just to the right of the front steps.

This is a legit good callback

a few heavy steps

Oh i ge it heavy because he's so fucking fat

“In their will, they stated that, even in the possession of the county, everything in the house was to remain as they left it. Untouched.”

Is that how wills work because did the sisters leave a corporation to pay for the upkeep in perpetuity

His voice. I’ll never get used to that. Booming. As if it is coming from a speaker pointed directly at my ear.

WHATEVER THE FUCK COULD THE AUTHOR BE TELEGRAPHING

“Come on. What did he really think was going to happen?” They all turned to her. “What do you mean?” Wainwright asked. “I mean, Goodman was a white dude shacking up with a black girl in the years before the Civil War. What did he think? That the murderous cocksuckers from the slave state next door were just going to let that happen?” “He loved her.” It was Kate,

This seems gross and like Thomas wants to give himself permission for an unexamined relationship between a black woman and a white man during slavery.

Moore tried to reposition herself around Daniel’s bulk. “I don’t think the elevator is the problem here, big guy. Maybe you should take the stairs.”

Daniel was fat. He knew he was fat.

Did he get a copy of this book too?

remembering that it was his weight that had snapped the plank in the first place.

The planks probably wouldn’t have supported the lithe Kate, let alone the largest person in the group.

Terror swept through his round body

to skitter across his rolls of flesh

his hands running quickly over his loose, pasty skin.

she’s surrounded by blowhard, overweight men