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Phil, Melissa, Mitch, Mary, and Vinnie are high school friends, who unwittingly raise the dead on Halloween night. Once the dead have returned, Pitchford Cove will never be the same again A serial killer on the loose targets co-ed DJ Alex Sheppard but the blonde radio host won't scare easily and decides to strike first by seducing the murderer. Two teenagers fake an attack by a legendary serial killer for a little attention, but the plan backfires when this triggers the real killer to resurface and go after them.

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Truly amazing, fantastical, funny, and odd, and sometimes scary, sad, and endearing stories are portrayed. Many famous actors, actresses, and directors made guest appearances. A collection of tales which range from comic to tragic, but often have a wicked sense of humor and an unexpected twist. The cases of a master criminal defense attorney, handling the most difficult of cases in the aid of the innocent.

Not for the faint of heart, the series recalls the brutal Italian "Giallo" thrillers of the s thanks to its complicated plots, gritty style and suggestive content. I was hearing about this series for some time but wasn't able to catch it because it's not on cable in Baltimore area. Finally found it online last year and its actually pretty good. The stories are interesting and there is usually a creepy feel to them.

They all have some kind of twist at the end which I genuinely love. My favorite of the ones I've seen so far is the one called Rest in Pieces. It was pretty creepy and had some nice gore shots plus the actors were believable.

If you like old school horror you will probably like this. Start your free trial. Top-Rated Episodes S4.

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Error: please try again. Brianna Gigs. Angela Roberts Johnson Films. TV series download list. Horror TV. Use the HTML below. You must be a registered user to use the IMDb rating plugin. Episodes Seasons. Learn more More Like This. The Midnight Hour. Comedy Horror Romance. The Midnight Hour I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed listening;--just as I have done, night after night, hearkening to the death watches in the wall.

Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or grief--oh no! I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him, although I chuckled at heart.

I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the first slight noise, when he had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him.


He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to himself: "It is nothing but the wind in the chimney--it is only a mouse crossing the floor," or "it is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp. All in vain; because Death, in approaching him. And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused him to feel--although he neither saw nor heard--to feel the presence of my head within the room.

When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie down, I resolved to open a little--a very, very little crevice in the lantern.

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  • So I opened it--you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily--until, at length, a single dim ray, like the thread of the spider, shot from out the crevice and full upon the vulture eye. It was open--wide, wide open--and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect distinctness--all a dull blue, with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones; but I could see nothing else of the old man's face or person: for I had directed the ray, as if by instinct, precisely upon the damned spot.

    And now--have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over-acuteness of the senses? I knew that sound well too. It was the beating of the old man's heart. It increased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.

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    But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eye. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker and louder and louder every instant. The old man's terror must have been extreme!

    Visions at the Hour of Death

    It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! I have told you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder!

    In the Midnight Hour: The Life & Soul of Wilson Pickett

    I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me--the sound would be heard by a neighbor! The old man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once--once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done. But, for many minutes, the heart beat on with a muffled sound.

    This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall.

    Young Goodman Brown

    At length it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many minutes.

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    • There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would trouble me no more.