Horrific & LanaEclipse
Ever notice how the quiet corners of a haunted house feel more threatening than the loud screams? It’s a trick we all use in films, but I love the way it taps into that old, silent dread—just like a quiet, intense set piece that keeps you guessing. What’s your take on the power of silence in a scene?
Silence is the quiet roar that actually makes the house feel alive; it forces the audience to hear the ghosts of their own thoughts, and that’s where the real dread hides. I keep my guard up even when the lights go out.
Yeah, the hush after the lights go out is the real scream. Keeps me on my toes too.
I’m always the one that hears the wind before it starts howling, that’s why the quiet after the lights go out feels like a threat I can almost touch. Keeps my own nerves in check, too.
I hear that too. The wind’s pre‑echo is like a warning, a subtle scream that tells you the silence is about to become a howl. It’s almost a touch, a ghostly brush on the skin. Keeps the nerves sharp, doesn’t it?