Happy Friday, Book Monsters! And to all my fellow Canadians, Happy Thanksgiving!!
I wish this long weekend was going to be relaxing – full of reading and eating candy I shouldn’t be putting into my body – but
unfortunately, I’ll be hosting a Thanksgiving dinner on Saturday, which will also double as a family birthday party for my husband. That means I need to go home and immediately clean my house and prepare. REAL TALK: I fucking hate being a hostess!
No one ever tells you that if you’re the oldest child the role of hostess becomes your unofficial job like allllllll the time after you buy a house.
It is not fair. But I’ll do it.
My in-laws will be crossing the border from NY and spending the whole weekend with us as well, so that’s
I figure, I better do a post today because I’m likely not going to be floating around the blogosphere very much for the next 3 or 4 days.
I just want to add, being a deeply introverted person, the anticipation of a big family weekend always gives me a low-rumbling of anxiety. Sometimes I have to sneak away from a party to reclaim my energy. I think of it like when you’re playing a game and you hide your character behind something during a fight until your health starts to regenerate.
I knowwwww that sounds terrible.
On one hand, I have this amazing, loving, blended family who I do like being around. And then, on the other hand, I’m an introvert who needs to be alone or she loses her goddamn mind.
My fellow introverts know what’s up.
Because it’s Thanksgiving, because I’m about to lose my mind and am developing my expected anxiety today, and because it’s officially Halloween season, this post is going to serve as my kickoff to Blogoween!
What is Blogoween, you ask?
First, look at the pretty picture. LOOK AT IT.
Banner by Anthony @ Keep Reading Forward
There are 3 levels of post commitment, and because I’m your friendly, neighbourhood lazy blogger, I’m doing the easiest level. Thirteen posts throughout the month, on whatever days I friggin’ feel like it. YAY!
Today’s prompt, CREEPY CRAWLIES, comes courtesy of host Kaleen @ Reader Voracious.
What fictional monsters/creatures would you hate to encounter in real life?
This is my top five list for Fave Friday. I think it’s appropriate for a “fave” Friday because in the wise words of our leader, Michael Scott, “Halloween should be a day where we honour monsters and not be mad at each other.” I want to honour my most favourite SPOOPY monsters that I’d like to please stay the fuck away from me IRL.
🎃Number One: FUCKING DEMENTORS
“Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them… Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself… soulless and evil. You will be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life.“
I’m an adult woman who should know better than to be freaked out by something in Harry Potter, but goddamn if Dementors are not the creepiest thing ever. The concept of a creepy cloaked figure isn’t new by any means, but these gliding, wraith-like creatures get me every time with their over-sized old lady hands, skin that’s described as “scabby grey,” breathing that sounds like a death rattle and you know, that thing where they suck out all your happy thoughts and leave you shell of a person. Plus they are employed by the government (for a while, at least.)
A soul-sucking monster who works for the government? Hmmmm…
OMG DONALD TRUMP IS A DEMENTOR!
🎃Number Two: FUCKING PENNYWISE
“Tell your friends I am the last of a dying race. The only survivor of a dying planet. I have come to rob all the women… rape all the men… and learn to do the Peppermint Twist!“
Which came first, the chicken or egg? Or in other words, our fear of clowns or Stephen King writing this fucking story? We may never know. It is an ancient alien monster thing that has no real identity (hence It,) that can shapeshift into any person, animal or object in order to appear to victims as friends, loved ones or their fears and lure It‘s prey into a trap.
Main goal: EATING PEOPLE, preferably children because they are easier to scare.
According to It, “terrified flesh tastes better.” It’s most favourite form to take is that of Pennywise the Clown for some unknown reason.
Seriously, fuck this guy.
🎃Number Three: MOTHERFUCKING DRACULA
“[They] live beyond the grace of God, a wanderer in the outer darkness. [They are] “vampyr”, “nosferatu”. These creatures do not die like the bee after the first sting, but instead grow strong and become immortal once infected by another nosferatu. So, my friends we fight not one beast but legions that go on age after age after age, feeding on the blood of the living.”
Cliche to add Dracula to this list? Perhaps. But I’m telling you right now, my very first memory of ever being scared of something was being scared of vampires. As a little girl, I used to sleep with my blanket tucked under my chin, as if that would somehow protect me. I wish I was kidding. What a fucking idiot.
I’m not talking about the white painted-face vampires with the capes and the slicked back hair, or the sparkly kind who choose to keep going to high school for all eternity. No. Vampires have been bastardized in so many different ways, altered to fit some kind of fetish; toned down and made to be desirable and charming. Fuck that.
I mean Let the Right One In vampires. I Am Legend vampires. 30 Days of Night vampires. I mean some Bram Stoker’s Dracula. The first. Vlad the Impaler. One full of satanic power, seeking revenge against god. Evil and creepy-as-all-hell with mind-altering powers. Give me 1897 Dracula, original Dracula. Who drinks blood, turns into a wolf and a terrifying bat-like creature, and is as charming and suave as he is cruel and calculating, cunning and animalistic.
Dracula’s full horrific potential is not something you want to see. Just saying.
🎃Number Four: FUCKING WENDIGOS
“Gaunt to the point of emaciation, its desiccated skin pulled tautly over its bones. With its bones pushing out against its skin, its complexion the ash gray of death, and its eyes pushed back deep into their sockets, the Wendigo looked like a gaunt skeleton recently disinterred from the grave.”
From Algonquin mythology, the mythos surrounding this particular monster varies, but the bottom line is this: Wendigos are cannibalistic monsters who devour humans. Any human who consumes human flesh transforms into a Wendigo forever. They are native to the Atlantic Coast and Great Lakes Region of both Canada and the United States, so watch your back.
Using their supernatural hunting abilities, which make them impossible to escape or evade, they stalk their prey and will even mimic human voices as a trap. Their favourite pastimes include eating human flesh, cooking human flesh and luring people away from safety and driving them mad in order to possess them and eat their flesh. They will drag you deep into the wilderness and cook you, feet first over a fire, peeling your skin off in pieces for a healthy snack.
And in case you were wondering, Wendigo Psychosis is a real disorder. Yay, humans!
🎃Number Five: THE HEADLESS FUCKING HORSEMAN
“On mounting a rising ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveller in relief against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror-struck on perceiving that he was headless!–but his horror was still more increased on observing that the head, which should have rested on his shoulders, was carried before him on the pommel of his saddle!”
This one might be more of a nostalgia thing for me, and not as scary to other people, but I’ve been terrified of this character since I watched the cartoon for the first time as a kid. This character and the story – inspired by the 1820 novel The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving – is a tale that exists in a grey area between history and folk-tale. I’ve never not loved the countless retellings that have been made.
The Headless Horseman has been a motif of European folklore since at least the Middle Ages, but it was Irving’s story that helped the tale work itself into American legend pretty heavily, making the Horseman a staple who makes his return every year at Halloween.
It’s said that during the Revolutionary War in 1776, at the Battle of White Plains, the British commanders sent forward their Hessian Horseman – merciless German mercenaries with a fearful reputation. During a cannon shot, one the Hessians had his head taken off, shattering his skull into pieces. He was buried quickly in the churchyard of Sleepy Hollow without his head. Ever since, he climbs out of his shallow grave to find his missing head or to take someone else’s – because yes, you would be so pissed off about being headless that you totally chop off other people’s head too. Admit it.
He can’t rest until he finds his head, but he never will…
Okay, scary story time is over for today!
Come by my insta – @thefuckingtwist. I follow back #bookstagram accounts and I’ll be much more active on there over the long weekend.
Stay safe. Be Kind. But, take no shit.
Later, Booknerds ✌️🔪