My name is Alissa, and I wanted to share a bit about how my journey into the world of horror began. I grew up in a small, quiet town in the northwest of England, UK. It wasn’t the kind of place that was full of excitement, but for me, it was the perfect backdrop for the strange and thrilling worlds I’d find on screen. From an early age, I was captivated by horror and sci-fi—two genres that felt like a doorway to a reality far beyond anything I knew. My dad was a massive horror fan, and his love for the genre seeped into every corner of our home. I remember walking into the living room countless times as a child, only to find myself instantly swept into films like Evil Dead or Dawn of the Dead. I must have been around 7 or 8 years old at the time, and I was easily impressionable, but I was also absolutely fascinated.
At school, I was the kind of kid who didn’t really fit in. I attended a small, local school, and while most of the kids my age was talking about cartoons, schoolyard games, or pop music, I was obsessed with movies that seemed to exist in an entirely different universe. I would tell my friends about the horror films I’d watch at night—usually ones with zombies tearing through the streets, relentlessly attacking their victims, or demonic creatures that would stop at nothing to wreak havoc. This didn’t go over too well. In fact, I was quickly labelled as the "weirdo" kid—the one who was different, the one who liked things that no one else seemed to care about.
One of my earliest memories is rooted in an old cupboard in one of the rooms downstairs, a cupboard where my dad kept his horror collection. He kept the key to it upstairs, in their bedroom, always hidden away. But I was a curious kid, and curiosity often gets the best of you. I remember sneaking upstairs when my parents were outside in the garden, tiptoeing toward the key, feeling like I was about to embark on some forbidden adventure. That cupboard held more than just dusty old films—it was a treasure trove of horror movie covers, bizarre artwork, and tantalizing movie descriptions. I didn’t fully understand most of what I was seeing, but it looked so intriguing, so mysterious, and so exciting.
One evening, when my parents were busy with my siblings, I couldn’t resist any longer. I quietly opened that cupboard and pulled out Evil Dead 2 (1987). The moment I started the movie, I was hooked. This was where my obsession with Bruce Campbell began. I remember thinking, “What on earth is going on here?” It was chaotic, hilarious, and terrifying all at once. And I loved it.
From there, I discovered even more horror classics. My dad would occasionally add new films to his collection, and I would eagerly dive into them. Return of the Living Dead 1 & 2, Brain Dead (Dead Alive), City of the Living Dead, Zombi 2, and of course, all of George A. Romero’s iconic zombie films—I watched them over and over again. I couldn’t get enough of the chaos, the blood, the grotesque creatures, and the underlying tension that came with each film. I got away with watching these films because, back in the day, we had VHS tapes, and when my parents were around, I’d quickly press the eject button, pretending I wasn’t doing anything at all. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be watching horror films, but somehow, I managed to sneak in a few anyway.
As I got older, around 10 or so, I started asking my dad to take me to the local video shop. I’ll never forget the first time I walked into that shop. It was like a dream come true. When I spotted the horror section, it felt like entering a world I could only dream of. The rows upon rows of VHS tapes, each with bold, eye-catching covers, colours that seemed to scream for attention, and stories that promised adventure, terror, and thrills. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. One cover that stood out to me for years was from the film Bad Taste—the one with the alien giving the middle finger. If you remember that one, you know exactly the kind of madness it promised. And of course, there were the iconic horror films I would eventually watch as a teenager, like Halloween, The Hills Have Eyes, and Alien. Each one opened my eyes to new layers of fear, storytelling, and cinematic art.
Looking back, I’m not entirely sure why I became so obsessed with horror. Perhaps it was the sense of control in a world where chaos reigned, or the idea that heroes—often flawed and imperfect—could rise up against evil. But I do know this: I was a lonely kid. I never seemed to have the same interests as my peers in school. I wasn’t the most popular kid, and I often felt like an outsider. I wasn’t part of the crowd. And yet, watching horror movies gave me a strange sense of comfort. It wasn’t about the blood or the monsters—it was about the fight. The heroes in these films battled unimaginable horrors, and somehow, watching them stand strong in the face of overwhelming odds made me feel like I wasn’t as alone in this world as I sometimes thought. It was a world where the underdog could triumph, where the weird ones weren’t always the ones who lost. And so, my love for horror grew, one terrifying, thrilling movie at a time.
