Novel Clique posed the question of fictional fears this week. I struggled with this one. I have plenty of real fears but fictional ones was a different thing altogether. Then, it came back to me. I was a freshmen in college when I went to see The Omen. I had no concerns about attending. That should have been my first red flag. I’m still haunted by that film. That kid creeped me out like no other. I had nightmares for months. I’m not kidding. He was beyond terrifying. The thing about my fictional fears is the more real they are the more terrifying. Most horror films leave me flat or laughing. There isn’t anything too scary about them. But Damien, this child possessed by the devil, was far too realistic for me.
I don’t like demons because I believe they exist as I believe evil exists. I don’t worry about the undead. They don’t exist. However, the guy in my neighborhood on the sexual predator list whose danger level is unknown terrifies me. It’s the unknown, unexpected, unprepared for that reduces me to a sniveling coward. So, they may technically be fictional, but for me they are terrifyingly real. No Damien in this household. Not even with the lights on.