Getting The Most Out Of Scream Time

Vent those inner anxieties by pairing screams to a perfect screaming place.

There’s a difference in places like there’s a difference in screams. Trust me. When you’ve got your victim in the right place, the scream they make will reward you — in a good way! I know great screams when I hear them — and I’ve tried many places to get the perfect one from every victim.

Oh, did you come here thinking this was a story about releasing your own frustrations in a safe, therapeutic way? (How selfish of you!) You’re half right. Some of us use other people to make the sound while we provide them with the anxieties to make it.

The trunk of my car used to be my favourite spot to hear a scream — but I was young and dumb — frankly, I’d never tried anywhere else. (How was I to know?) And I wasn’t such an aural connoisseur back then. The business of concealing the attack was way more important. I’d stuff a thick sock in their mouth right away. Duct tape maintained the silence so I never knew what I was missing.

One day, I took someone under a bridge. I hadn’t planned the encounter — and it was a real struggle getting the victim back to the car. My sock, tape and trunk felt like they were a million miles away. The bitch screamed many times and then I was surprised by what I heard. There were echoes. That sound aroused me in ways too devious to describe — totally surprising. It had a lot to do with the bridge. Those large concrete surfaces produced a sound bounce that elongated the scream. It was absolutely beautiful and I couldn’t get the sensation out of my mind. It got me thinking: Are there better places to hear a blood-curdling scream than the trunk of my car or under a random bridge?

After thirty years of experience, I feel it’s the right time to share with you my top five favourite screamy places of all.

  1. The desert. Obvious right? There’s no one to hear a scream. Its isolation allows them to run free. Enjoy way more scream time! Save duct tape and socks too. (Unfortunately, no exquisite echoes either. Boo-hoo.) Just take a shovel. Done!
  2. Two inches underwater. It’s a bubbly scream, not as loud but it has a very interesting effect. It’d be for those who’d like to be more creative with their kills.
  3. Upside down. The pitch changes. Yes, it does! Go figure! (Hint: Record a scream right side up and then compare it to the upside-down version. Yep, that’s a whole tone or two higher! Weird eh?)
  4. In an empty bucket. Pop a large bucket over the victim’s head and then listen to how the scream drops. That’s because the victim’s ears get the sound first and it’s bloody painful. Alternatively, if they keep screaming at the top of their lungs, watch their body flinch at the pain they cause themselves. It’s a wonderfully masochistic type of scream.
  5. A Cathedral. Oh my God, this is it. This is where it all happens — so stirring. It’s the most heavenly way to experience screams. It just rings and rings forever. Imagine a demon raping an angel — that’s the sound you’d get. Forget about finding a bridge. Go straight to Church and wallow in the surround sound of a scream delivered in a Holy Cathedral.

Now, I can’t guarantee you’ll get the same results as I do, but what I offer here are foundation stones on which to build ideas. You can mix it up by using two or more of my suggestions in one scenario. For instance: Take a victim to a Cathedral-sized cave and hold their head under two inches of water. Bubbly screams with some echo overlays is what I predict. (I haven’t done it myself (yet) by I can imagine the rewards would be worthy of testing.)

What about inverting the victim on a vertical turntable in the middle of Nowhere Desert and then fixing a bucket to its head? If the turntable rotates automatically by way of a small motor, you can sit back and listen to the ever-changing pitch as they go from right side up to upside down and back again. You can have fun finding ways to keep them screaming while figuring out what causes the pitch to change.

What keeps them screaming, you ask?

Anything you like.

Happy hunting.


Five women’s bodies are discovered after the nights of thunderstorms. Their spouses are suspected of the crimes, but it becomes clear that someone else is responsible. There’s no blood and few clues. A storm photographer who specializes in taking pictures of lightning may be the only witness.


A Blog For Those Who Are Attracted To The Night

Do you have a yearning for the stars? Is howling at the moon your kind of thing?

Of course, it is, and you do. That’s why you visited. There’s that certain something that draws you to the night, and it goes deep to the core of us. Words don’t describe it. The sensation is visceral. Perhaps it’s part of a deep, primal desire we’re yet to understand.

Nyctophilia: My love of the dark

This attraction is called nyctophilia. Don’t worry, it’s not a disease. Humans have many inexplicable foibles like this built into their DNA. It’s who we are. Some say it’s the psyche’s wish to return our souls to the holiest elements of our origins — to a time long before the Internet, religion, even civility itself. We ache to connect with our ancient ancestors who once lived by the only laws we’ve truly known, those of Earth, wind and fire. There is a special type of serial killer too.

Serial killers?

I thought we were talking about nature and visceral connections to it.

We were. It’s a twist in this blog’s post.

I brought you here to take you elsewhere. Nyctophilia is a lovely, sweet story, but what makes us think we can walk into the night without a care in the world? It’s illogical. We can’t see into the dark. Our eyes aren’t made for it. Fear should prevail. It’s normal to fear the kinds of things that might lurk inside that wild abyss. It’s not safe. The danger is real. Why go against logic and step into it? There’s a simple answer.


We place trust in it. But trust takes time to manufacture. It doesn’t happen automatically or without a reason. Fools.

That’s why my victims are nyctophiles. They wander out of the illuminated areas of the city because they’ve never had a problem with the night before — placing their trust in an environment that never showed its teeth. They also place their trust in people like me.

They should. I always work hard to gain it. To be honest, if history has proved anything, my character is dependable to a fault. Sometimes it’s tiresome to be this way. Occasionally, I need to take a vacation from myself and go out into the night, too. I do it because I also have a primal need of my own. Mine is driven to take us into the night to reinstall fear in those who trust me without question.

There are plenty of foolish nyctophiles from which to choose. One of them won’t make it through the night tonight. Tomorrow, other nyctophiles will begin question their trust. A few of them will stop being nyctophiles altogether. Fortunately, not every nyctophile will be frightened away. Some will remain fixated on the night, because that’s who they are.

I’m glad for their unwavering fixation. I have a fixation that feeds on theirs — and I need each of them to believe I’m totally trustworthy when they finally get to meet me… somewhere inside the night.

Creep you later!

Michael (Author of SEETHINGS)

Five women’s bodies are discovered after the nights of thunderstorms. Their spouses are suspected of the crimes, but it becomes clear that someone else is responsible. There’s no blood and few clues. A storm photographer who specializes in taking pictures of lightning may be the only witness.