Story Structure for Horror Stories: Part One

They say that there are two types of writers: those who plot and those who fly by the seat of their pants. Those who “pants” their stories are probably looking at this title and immediately clicking away. Don’t! It’s ok! There is absolutely no pressure to follow this outline, and this is just one option for writing your horror story. In fact, this “formula,” for lack of a better word, worked out so well for me that I was able to write my screenplay, Christmas Feast, in about 2 weeks. I tried it again to write a pilot episode for a tv series I’m pitching, based on the Dead Steam anthologies, and the format worked wonders. I had my pilot finished in a matter of weeks. When I write using the “pants” method, it often takes me years to finish a novel. Years!

I’ll start with this formula and continue expanding on the idea of story structure in my next post, where I’ll adopt the horror outline for a five-act structure.

This is Henrik Holmberg’s “very short, no fluff, blueprint of how to write a horror script.”

  1. The Hook. Start with a bang. Step right into a suspense scene. (“Scream” opens with a terrifying sequence with Drew Barrymore on the phone with a killer)
  2. The Flaw. Introduce your hero. Give him a flaw. Before you can put your hero in jeopardy we must care for him. We must want our hero to succeed. So make him human. (In “Signs” Mel Gibson plays a priest who has lost his faith after his wife died)
  3. The Fear. A variant of The Flaw. The hero has a fear. Maybe a fear of heights, or claustrophobia. (In “Jaws” Roy Scheider has a fear of water. At the end he has to conquer his fear by going out onto the ocean to kill the shark)
  4. No Escape. Have your hero at an isolated location where he can’t escape the horror. (Like the hotel in “The Shining”)
  5. Foreplay. Tease the audience. Make them jump at scenes that appear scary — but turn out to be completely normal. (Like the cat jumping out of the closet) Give them some more foreplay before bringing in the real monster.
  6. Evil Attacks. A couple of times during the middle of the script show how evil the monster can be — as it attacks its victims.
  7. Investigation. The hero investigates, and finds out the truth behind the horror.
  8. Showdown. The final confrontation. The hero has to face both his fear and the monster. The hero uses his brain, rather than muscles, to outsmart the monster. (At the end of “The Village” the blind girl tricks the monster to fall into the hole in the ground)
  9. Aftermath. Everything’s back to the way it was from the beginning — but the hero has changed for the better or for the worse. (At the end of “Signs” Mel Gibson puts on his clerical collar again — he got his faith back)
  10. Evil Lurks. We see evidence that the monster may return somewhere..somehow..in the future..(Almost all “Friday The 13’th”-movies end with Jason showing signs of returning for another sequel)

And now, here’s my expanded version with examples from my screenplay:

Teaser

The Hook

Start with a bang. Step right into a suspense scene.


JACK LAKE, and his family, are driving along the road to Pinewood, when a deer darts in front of their car, driving them off the road. They can’t get a cell phone signal, so they are forced to take a ride from a stranger, NICK SAINT. The stranger turns out to be a murderous cannibal, and they all wind up dead.

Act One

The Flaw

Introduce your hero. Give him a flaw. Before you can put your hero in jeopardy we must care for her. We must want our hero to succeed. So make him human.


HOLLY MARKS (36), is a workaholic, so dedicated to her job at the book agency, she plans to work through Christmas. However, her boss, Paige, has other plans. Paige wants to sign a contract with the celebrity chef/author of a cookbook called Christmas Feast, Jack Lake, who’s suddenly gone missing. Conveniently, the last place the author was seen was on his way to Deer Mountain, just past Holly’s hometown of Pinewood. Paige wants the contract signed before Christmas so they can get the cookbook on shelves in stores, leaving Holly little choice but to take the assignment in spite of her reservations.

The Fear

The hero has a fear. Maybe a fear of heights, or claustrophobia.


For some reason, which we’ll get into later, Holly is afraid to return home to Pinewood, where she grew up. She hasn’t been back in years, so she’s reluctant to return home. She is considering backing out of her assignment when her grandparents call, begging her to come home for Christmas, reminding her of the town’s Christmas traditions like the Christmas feast. They play on her guilt; they’ve barely seen her in the last ten years; they miss her; they practically raised her; they need help organizing the feast (they’re on the planning committee). They’re not taking no for an answer.

Act Two

No Escape

Have your hero at an isolated location where he can’t escape the horror.

As Holly drives up the road to Pinewood, unbeknownst to her, she passes the spot where Jack Lake and his family were murdered by Nick. A few miles up the road, her car breaks down. She tries to call for a tow truck but her cell phone has no signal. It’s beginning to look a lot like the opening sequence with the family that was murdered, but Holly isn’t interested in waiting for help. She bundles up in her winter coat, eyeing up the 3 miles to Pinewood sign, and starts walking, leaving her car stranded on the side of the road.

Holly finally reaches the mechanic’s shop. It’s lit up for Christmas, but it otherwise looks abandoned. Outside, there are pictures of missing people on the bulletin board, including a poster for the missing Lake family, but Holly doesn’t notice right away. Instead, she notices the poster for the Christmas Feast at the Town Square, which advertises “prize for best gingerbread house,” and “Santa look-alike competition,” etc.

She heads inside and the counter is deserted. She can hear Christmas music playing from the back of the shop. She calls out “hello,” but there is no answer. She decides to push past the “Employees Only” sign to see if anyone is there. Still no answer, as she walks along the hallway towards the sound of the music. There is blood on the floor, but Holly doesn’t seem to notice. The music starts to skip, and we see a turntable in the back room. Holly’s attention is focused on the turntable as she walks past a heavy walk-in refrigerator door. We hear a banging sound and what sounds like a human voice, as if from inside the refrigerator. Holly turns towards the door, noticing it for the first time. Suddenly, the music stops playing, and she turns back towards the record player. TED CONLEE (33), tall, handsome, and charming, is standing in front of her. “Can I help you?”

Not only does he seem harmless, but Holly seems instantly smitten. All the scary tension is diffused, replaced with romantic tension, as Ted offers to help with her broken-down car and call her a cab to get her the rest of the way to the cabin where she’ll be staying. She declines, saying that her grandparents can pick her up.

Act Three

False Scare

Tease the audience. Make them jump at scenes that appear scary — but turn out to be completely normal. Give them some more foreplay before bringing in the real monster. 

Holly’s grandparents show up at the mechanic’s shop. They seem sweet and friendly, and they seem to know Ted, the mechanic (it’s a small town, after all). Her grandfather helps take her bags and loads them into the trunk of the car. He makes only a small complaint that Holly isn’t just staying with them, but her grandmother rises to her defense – “she wouldn’t want to stay with us – she’s had to put up with enough of your snoring for a lifetime.” Everyone laughs.

Holly gets in, saying a quick good-bye to Ted, who says “See you soon.” Holly is confused, but he explains – she’ll need to come back when her car’s ready. “Oh, right, of course.” 

Her grandparents drive Holly up to the charming B&B her boss has booked her for her working holiday. It’s a beautiful, charming log cabin up at the top of a hill, in total isolation. Snow is falling ever so lightly. There’s something unsettling about it. The door opens and out steps the B&B’s host. It’s Nick, the cannibal from the opening sequence. Holly – “you must be Nick.”

Holly’s grandmother knows him too. “You’re going to love it here. Nick is one of the best cooks Pinewood has to offer. Just wait till you try his cooking.” Holly’s grandfather chimes in, “hope you’re planning something good for this year’s Christmas Feast, Nick. Holly, you remember the Christmas Feast, don’t you?” Holly does remember, but she has a lot of mixed emotions about being back in Pinewood for the holidays. She pushes past Nick and brings her bags inside the cabin to get settled for the night, leaving Nick and her grandparents to wonder what’s eating her, so to speak.

That night, Holly has a restless sleep, as she hears the floorboards creaking, owls hooting outside her window. She creeps outside her room and hears unsettling noises. As she passes Ethan’s room, she hears snoring. She tiptoes past and heads downstairs. The wooden floors creak with every step. When she reaches the ground floor and heads to the kitchen, her focus is honed in on the fridge. There’s just something about it…

She heads towards it, slowly, closer, closer, until…

Nick is behind her. “Can’t sleep?”

Holly shakes her head, and Nick offers to fix her something to eat and gets her settled on the couch in the living room. An old Christmas movie is playing on the old tv. It’s cosy, and by the time he heads to the kitchen and returns with a cup of cocoa and a small plate of food for her, she’s fallen asleep in the living room. He tucks her in for the night.

Evil Shows Its Face

A couple of times during the middle of the script show how evil the monster can be — as it attacks its victims. 

Holly heads downstairs the next morning. Nick has prepared an amazing breakfast for her, and apparently, it’s delicious? “What is this?” she asks, regarding the bacon. “Bacon,” he answers. “I’ve never tasted bacon like this,” she raves.

During breakfast, she gets a text from her boss, asking her if she’s had any luck finding Jack Lake. She asks Nick if he happens to know anything; it’s a small town, after all. He reacts to the name, but he denies knowing anything. If she’s suspicious, she doesn’t say anything.

She heads over to her grandparents’ place. They are busy decorating for Christmas, and she offers to give them a hand. She tells them about Jack Lake, and they suggest checking in with the ski lodge. She tries, but she can’t get through. She leaves a message.

In the meantime, Holly’s grandmother pushes Christmas festivities on her – she’s on the planning committee, and they still need a big Christmas tree for the Christmas feast. Will she go pick one up? Holly protests that she doesn’t have a car, just as Ted, the mechanic shows up in his truck. Is Holly’s grandmother trying to set her up with the handsome mechanic?

They head out to the Christmas tree farm, but none of the trees there are big enough. Ted says he knows a better place to find a tree. They head out into the forest, and Ted brings a big axe. It’s a beautiful day, with a light snow falling, and the conversation is charming. They almost stumble across the perfect Christmas tree. Ted puts down the axe to finish their conversation. Why has Holly been away from Pinewood so long? Her parents passed away at Christmas time, years ago (Ted: my parents passed away at Christmas too), and her grandparents practically raised her. After she moved to the city to work as a book agent, she found herself making excuses to avoid going home for the holidays. It was just too painful to revisit old memories. Until now.

She has a snowball fight with Ted, and their playful fight turns into an almost kiss. And that’s when she stumbles on a bloodied Christmas sweater. The moment is ruined, but she tries to put it out of her mind.

Ted picks up the axe and looks at Holly as though he’s about to swing it at her. He raises the axe, swings, and it hits the tree they’ve picked out.

That night, Holly has trouble sleeping again. She is tossing and turning, thinking about the bloody Christmas sweater. Again, she hears scary noises outside the cabin (owls hooting, floorboards creaking, etc). She’s wide awake. She picks up her cell phone and notices a missed call with one voicemail. She listens to the message. It’s the ski lodge returning her call; Jack Lake never checked in. She gets out of bed and heads downstairs. Ethan’s old tv is on, another Christmas movie is playing, and Nick is passed out on the couch.

Quietly as possible, Holly “borrows” Ethan’s car keys and his truck. She drives off. She doesn’t notice, but as she’s driving away, we see Nick standing in the window of the cabin.

Holly heads back to the spot where she found the bloodied Christmas sweater, but the sweater is gone. Someone must have done something with it. But who? Ted?

She had been hoping to go to the police with more evidence, but now she’s got nothing. She heads back to the cabin, and as she gets out of the truck, Nick startles her. She apologizes for borrowing his truck without his permission, and he gets a bit frightening. Her first glimpse of Nick without his charming façade.

Act Four

Investigation

The hero investigates, and finds out the truth behind the horror. 

The next morning, Nick has cooked up another breakfast feast. Eggs, toast, sausage. He apologizes for scaring her the night before, but Holly admits she shouldn’t have stolen his truck. They both agree to let it go, when she notices that Nick has a copy of Christmas Feast, by Jack Lake. Clearly he was lying when he said he didn’t know Jack Lake. She picks up the cookbook. “What’s this?” she asks, and Nick plays ignorant, claiming he picked up the book in the store, and Holly acts as though she believes him, but she knows better. The book is not in stores yet. She flips the book to the last page, and it says “Proof Copy.” There’s only one way he could have gotten this copy: from Jack Lake himself. This proves Nick had something to do with Jack going missing. She asks to borrow the cookbook, and Nick reluctantly agrees.

Holly goes to the police station and tries to make a report about the missing chef, but the police don’t seem interested, even when she shows them the proof copy of the book. They say they’ll “look into it,” but she leaves in frustration. She sends a message to her boss, updating her that she hasn’t found Jack, and that he may be missing. Then she heads back to Ted’s mechanic shop to check in on her car. He tells her that it’s still missing a few parts, so she might have to wait a few more days.

Holly can’t wait a few more days. She wants to get the hell out of town. A noise from the back of Ted’s shop draws her attention. “What was that?” Ted shrugs it off. “Nothing,” but Holly is sure it wasn’t nothing. She pushes open the Employees Only door and sees a dead body in the back area where Ted keeps his old record player. Holly screams. Ted follows her, picking up his axe as he heads into the back room.

Holly starts running. She manages to find a back entrance and shoves the door open.

Holly runs, with Ted hot on her heels. He chases her down, and she fights for her life. She ducks his axe and it lodges in a fencepost. She kicks him in the balls, grabs the axe, and lodges it in his leg. She doesn’t stop running until she reaches her car.

Ted, quickly recovering, pulls the axe from his leg, and gives chase. Holly gets into her car and slams the door shut just before Ted has a chance to grab her. He reaches for the handle, but she locks it. He heads for the passenger side door, but she scrambles across the seats and locks that one too. He swings his axe at the windshield, splintering the glass. It won’t hold out long. She starts up the car, muttering to herself that she knew he was lying about it missing a few parts, as he swings the axe again. She starts driving and runs him off the road.

Showdown

The final confrontation. The hero has to face both his fear and the monster. The hero uses his/her brain, rather than muscles, to outsmart the monster.

Holly arrives at her grandparents’ place, a bit hysterical. Her grandparents let her in, and she locks the doors and starts barricading the windows. Her grandparents want to know why she’s so worked up, and she tries to explain, but she’s too worked up. She picks up the phone to dial the police, while her grandparents try to talk her out of calling the police. They want to know what’s going on first, but then, Nick walks into the room, sipping a cup of hot cocoa as though he owns the place. Holly’s grandmother explains that Nick was worried about her. She tells Holly that Nick told them about her stealing his truck, all the paranoid questions about Jack Lake, etc. The way he tells it, she’s just paranoid. Ted shows up at the door, and Holly begs her grandparents not to let him in. She’s hysterical, which only seems to confirm Ethan’s story about her being a bit paranoid. “It’s just Ted,” says her grandfather. “Let’s just see what he wants…”

He opens the door, against Holly’s protests, and Ted stabs him in the throat and pushes past him. Holly’s grandmother is perfectly calm. “Hi, Teddy,” she says, as if greeting an old friend.

Holly looks at her grandmother in confusion, as Ted walks menacingly closer to her. Before Ted has a chance to stab her, Nick grabs the fireplace shovel and knocks her out cold.

As Holly regains consciousness, she sees that she’s been locked up in a walk-in refrigerator. It’s freezing cold in there – lucky for her, she’s dressed for winter. But she’s not alone. And like the others, she’s handcuffed by one hand to a metal pipe. Some of the others are missing limbs. And some people are already dead, their bodies hacked up into strips of meat.

She can’t get much of a signal on her phone to call for help, but she manages to receive a video call from her boss, Paige, who thinks the horror background is just a filter, and hangs up.

She learns from the others that Ted and Nick are planning to eat them. She’s horrified, but there doesn’t seem to be any hope of escape. She tries to break free from her handcuffs, but to no avail. The fridge door opens and in walks Nick. When he un-cuffs her, Holly manages to grab a nearby meathook and drives it into Ethan’s throat. She makes a break for it, leaving the others behind.

Holly steps out of the walk-in refrigerator, quickly finding herself in Ted’s mechanic shop. She can hear Christmas music playing in the back room, and a quick peek confirms Ted is back there. She sneaks past him and makes a run for it.

She runs out of the shop towards the highway and tries to flag down a passing car. It drives past without stopping. She tries again. The next car drives past. She tries one last time, more desperate now, stepping out in front of the car and forcing it to stop. It’s a police car, thank god. In the passenger seat is the same officer she made the report to the other day. She tells the officers what happened, and they tell her to get in the car.

Holly gets in the back and they start driving. They pull up to her grandmother’s house. “What are we doing here? I thought you were taking me to the police station,” she protests.

“You said your grandfather was murdered here,” the officer answers. “I think I’d better check in on him, don’t you think? You wait right here.”

The officers get out of the car, leaving Holly in the back, as they go up to Holly’s grandmother’s house. The door opens, and her grandfather’s body is still lying on the floor, but the officers don’t seem disturbed.

“I suppose we’d better clean up this mess,” says one of them.

“Quickly,” answers Holly’s grandmother, “before the meat spoils.”

As Holly finally realizes that both her grandmother and the policemen are in on it, she tries to open the door. It won’t open. Of course not; police cars are locked from the inside. There’s no escape.

Act Five

Aftermath

Everything’s back to the way it was from the beginning — but the hero has changed for the better or for the worse.

The day of the Christmas Feast, there are all kinds of Christmas festivities, and the Town Square is a hive of activity. Christmas music is playing. Dinner is served to the guests seated at the long tables. The two police officers are seated at the table, eagerly awaiting their meal.

Holly’s grandmother makes a speech, thanking the entire planning committee for their help in putting the Christmas Feast together, and gives special mention to Nick – for preparing the meat for the feast, and Ted, for finding the perfect Christmas Tree. As she makes her speech, Ted carves the meat and sets it on the plates, which he passes down along the table.

Holly’s grandmother also mentions a few special guests, and she thanks Holly for coming home for Christmas.

Finally, we see Holly, not carved up to be eaten, as we might have expected. Instead, her legs are chained to her chair. She grits her teeth as a plate of food reaches her. She glances down at her plate, looking at the juicy meat in horror, before she passes it on to the next person. Her grandmother’s speech continues – “we’re so glad to have her here for Christmas. She’s one of us now, a true citizen of Pinewood.”

Everyone at the table raises their glasses in toast, as the speech concludes, “Merry Christmas. Dig in.”

Evil Remains

We see evidence that the monster may return somewhere..somehow..in the future.

It’s next year, and a family is driving down the highway, singing Christmas carols. It’s an echo of the opening scene, as the car skids and drives off the road. As they argue about what to do next, there’s a tap at the window. It’s Holly: “Need a lift?”

They get into Holly’s car. “You folks like Christmas carols?”

They start singing as they drive up the road to Pinewood.

7 responses to “Story Structure for Horror Stories: Part One”

  1. Welcome, Bryce, and what a fantastic first post! As a life-long planner, I have to agree with pretty much everything you say. Your template for horror is sound, in fact I may try it myself for my next story. As a planner, I’m considered an outlier by other planners, sometimes writing paragraphs about each scene before I even start to write. Very time consuming, and I’ve been trying to make my method more “sane,” for want of a better word, but I find that the more detailed my plan, the better the finished work. Go figure…

    But I must take exception with one aspect that you include as necessary in your outline, a thing I consider a bad habit by modern directors that has largely ruined modern horror. That is what you call the False Scare. I don’t think this is truly possible to achieve in a written work given the way people read.

    But movies are a different matter entirely. The cat jumping from the closet is always accompanied by a loud, discordant piano chord causing the audience to jump in fear just as the person on screen does, but what does that accomplish? The audience gives a nervous laugh, dissipating all the tension the director has painstakingly built up and forcing him to start over in the middle of the scene, attempting to get the audience keyed up again. It’s a waste, and directors of the Golden Age knew it. This is why you don’t see jump-scares in films from Psycho to Attack of the Killer Shrews. Hitchcock knew better, and so did Ray Kellogg. The tension was real, and stayed that way until something real happened.

    And that ends my rant on what is a sore subject with me. No, really! It’s the reason I don’t watch modern horror. In any case, my friend, you’ve set a very high bar for yourself. You keep writing posts like this, you’ll have a fan following here in no time!

    Liked by 1 person

    • I love that my post has generated a discussion point!

      My personal opinion is that the false scare doesn’t necessarily have to be a “jump scare.” It can be a part of the setup. For example, I believe I remember a story of yours in which a pair of confidence tricksters played at ghost hunters, only to later come across a genuine supernatural event. These confidence tricksters don’t genuinely believe in the supernatural, so the supernatural is revealed as false. This sets your readers up for the real scare later on, when the fake supernatural elements prove real.

      A common way of achieving this is using a skeptical character. Their skepticism suggests that the fears are false, even while introducing the frightening element. By suggesting that the fear is not real, you draw even more attention to the fear than you would be suggesting too early that it is real. It’s this resistance to accept what’s frightening that creates effective tension.

      As I mentioned in my post, this is just one possible outline, so I’m not saying that you have to have any of these elements, just that it can be effective, your readers may expect it, and you may feel like something is missing if you don’t make use of this. Still, if there are any points you disagree with, you can feel free to change them and still use the other elements of the template. Perhaps, for example, “false scare” could be replaced with “denial” or “resistance.”

      I, for one, already made some adjustments to Henrik Holmberg’s original outline to suit my needs.

      Liked by 2 people

      • Welcome, Maggie, and thanks for taking the time! I see what you mean, and it’s a matter of semantics, mostly. In the original post, Bryce specified a “cat jumping out of a closet,” and that’s the kind of visual thumb-twiddling that I rail against. It’s like the director has no idea where to go with the scene so he says, “I know! We’ll throw a cat at the actor. That will be our Oscar moment.” Leading the reader away from the correct conclusion is more like leaving a trail of breadcrumbs or the classic “red herring.” I thank you for this post, though, now I know what to put in place of Mr. Raffle’s Cat.

        PS: The story you read was Brass & Coal, and I’m gratified that you found it interesting enough to remember! I’m going to post another short here in two weeks; perhaps you’ll find it to your liking as well…

        Liked by 1 person

      • Hi Jack, I see I’ve created a bit of confusion here, as I was logged into the wrong WordPress account. Maggie X is the name of my horror comic book, so that’s actually my account. Sorry for the confusion! That’s my fault!

        The cat jumping out of the closet visual is the example from Henrik Holmberg, whose formula I’ve modified for my own purposes. I don’t care for that example myself, so I agree with you on that. If anything, the cat jumping out of a closet approach is really a good example of what not to do! Still, I think it can be effective to use some form of false scare to kind of tell the reader “don’t worry, there’s nothing scary here,” so that when the real scare comes, it’s more of a surprise. A way of getting the reader to let their guard down, but this only works if it’s done well, of course!

        Ok, hopefully I’m in the right account this time! It’s me, Bryce!

        Liked by 1 person

    • Bryce, great to hear from you again! I worked out who MaggieX was after I wrote my reply, so no harm done to me, at least. Certainly less than throwing a cat at me does! Glad to see you agree with my about that. The purpose of horror is to frighten me. Not gross me out (though I get that some fans like that), and certainly not to make me laugh, no matter how nervously.

      Looking forward to your next post and mixing it up like this in the discussion section. It’s really good to have you here. Hope it goes on for a long time.

      Like

  2. Although I have written some horror (or more precisely, horror/sci-fi), I don’t consider myself an expert at it. You didn’t say anything that I can disagree with (and back up with evidence), but I myself don’t precisely follow this proposed outline; nor do some horror writers I’ve read. But you make some good points, and I can see how such an outline could be especially good advice for the writer of a horror movie.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a reply to Jack Tyler Cancel reply