Tag: annabelle

Will “The Conjuring”s Annabelle Have Her Own Movie?

Stefanie Snider

the-conjuring-annabelle-doll-610x343

She might, according to IGN.com.

I’m not easily spooked; growing up Horror does that to a kid. But when I saw this movie this summer, and that fucking doll came on the screen… There’s just something about dolls, y’know? They’re everywhere, tiny lifeless versions of ourselves.

Lifeless, that is, until Hollywood gets ahold of them, and the next thing you know you’d better watch your back.

It happened with Chucky. It happened in Puppetmaster. And there’s something about Annabelle that’s just… off.

Look at that smug grin. She knows too much.

And hopefully, she’ll be coming to terrorize us again.

(Read IGN’s article for more info, and check out my own personal creepy Annabelle story here!)

Excerpt: “Annabelle”, a Horror Story

Stefanie Snider

I never really loved that child.

I mean, she was an easy birth. And when she got a little older, and I could start putting little bows and ribbons and things on her, she was cute enough.

But I knew right from the start she was evil.

It wasn’t one of those things you could see easily. Hell, I had a hard enough time seeing it myself.

When we’d go out to the market, she’d be sweet as pie. All the old women would come over and tug on those blonde ringlets. They’d caw like ravens and pinch at her cheeks. She’s got these dimples, see, that make the little grannies just about weep with adoration.

I used to tell those biddies they could take her home with them, if they loved her so much. They always giggled from behind their dentures and shook their smiling heads. I wish, just once, that one of them had realized I wasn’t kidding.

I caught the first hints of the demon in her when she’d cry out in the night. Most children, see, they wail. Their little chests suck in all the air they can hold and force it back out, loud as a foghorn through the darkness. Annabelle was different. She hissed. It sounded like a basketful of snakes let loose in her room.

I started turning down the baby monitor. Then I shut it off. Before long, I was closing her door and sleeping with a pillow over my head.

Of course I took her to the doctor; what kind of mother do you think I am? He checked her front and back and upside down and said there wasn’t a damned thing wrong with her. I wanted her to startle at his touch, to cry out so he could hear what I’d heard. She sat there instead, half a hand shoved in her mouth, and the doctor didn’t suspect a thing.

So I bundled her up against the Fall wind and wheeled her back home in her stroller. The strangers we passed all cooed at her. I think that was part of her witchcraft, being able to fool them all like that. They didn’t feel what I felt…

There’s something different about Annabelle. Something unsettling. Something…demonic.
Mommy’s little monster is here.

Annabelle, short horror from Stefanie N Snider

Available now at Amazon

“Scary Baby Costume” (Not What You’d Think)

Stefanie Snider

“Animated Scary Baby Girl in Harness Prop, three Different Audio Tracks. Mouth Moves. Great Costume Accessory. Eyes Light Up. Spins a hundred and eighty Degrees.”

This is fucking fantastic. I wonder if I can claim it as a business expense to promote Annabelle…

(source)

(That Random Capitalization pained me To copy-Paste, by the Way.)

Excerpt: “Annabelle”, a Horror Story

Stefanie Snider

I never really loved that child.

I mean, she was an easy birth. And when she got a little older, and I could start putting little bows and ribbons and things on her, she was cute enough.

But I knew right from the start she was evil.

It wasn’t one of those things you could see easily. Hell, I had a hard enough time seeing it myself.

When we’d go out to the market, she’d be sweet as pie. All the old women would come over and tug on those blonde ringlets. They’d caw like ravens and pinch at her cheeks. She’s got these dimples, see, that make the little grannies just about weep with adoration.

I used to tell those biddies they could take her home with them, if they loved her so much. They always giggled from behind their dentures and shook their smiling heads. I wish, just once, that one of them had realized I wasn’t kidding.

I caught the first hints of the demon in her when she’d cry out in the night. Most children, see, they wail. Their little chests suck in all the air they can hold and force it back out, loud as a foghorn through the darkness. Annabelle was different. She hissed. It sounded like a basketful of snakes let loose in her room.

I started turning down the baby monitor. Then I shut it off. Before long, I was closing her door and sleeping with a pillow over my head.

Of course I took her to the doctor; what kind of mother do you think I am? He checked her front and back and upside down and said there wasn’t a damned thing wrong with her. I wanted her to startle at his touch, to cry out so he could hear what I’d heard. She sat there instead, half a hand shoved in her mouth, and the doctor didn’t suspect a thing.

So I bundled her up against the Fall wind and wheeled her back home in her stroller. The strangers we passed all cooed at her. I think that was part of her witchcraft, being able to fool them all like that. They didn’t feel what I felt…

There’s something different about Annabelle. Something unsettling. Something…demonic.
Mommy’s little monster is here.

 

Annabelle, the newest short horror from Stefanie N Snider

Available now at Amazon