You've got your fears. You've dug them up, looked them in the eye, and written them down. You've got a toolbox of terror waiting to be used. But a toolbox full of rusty blades is useless if there's no one to cut. The most terrifying stories aren't just about what's lurking in the dark; they're about the people walking into it. A monster only matters if it has someone to haunt. A ghost without a person to haunt is just a puff of smoke. A monster without a character's sanity to erode is just a creature in the dark.
This chapter is about how to build those people. How to make them feel so real that when the axe finally falls, the reader feels the cold draft against their own neck.
The Hero: Flawed, Not Flawless
The hero is the reader's lens into the horror. If they're a cardboard cutout, the fear will feel just as flat. A hero who is too brave or too smart is boring. They don't feel real, and because of that, their eventual downfall won't feel real, either.
Think of it this way: your main character is the house. Before the haunted doll starts moving or the lights begin to flicker, you need to show us the sturdy foundation, the creaky floorboards, and the chipped paint. You need to show us what's at stake.
The best horror protagonists are relatable, not perfect. They have human desires. Maybe they just want to get a good grade on a test, pay off a debt, or fix a broken relationship with their kid. These simple, human desires are the first hooks. We see a little of ourselves in them, and in that moment, we step into their shoes. Their imperfections are what the horror will eventually exploit.
The Secret Shame: The most powerful flaws are often hidden. A character who is secretly a coward, a compulsive liar, or an alcoholic trying to stay sober. These aren't just character quirks; they are vulnerabilities. They are the cracks in the house where the monster can crawl in. The monster isn't just trying to kill the hero; it's trying to expose them. It's trying to destroy their life from the inside out.
Show, Don't Tell: This is the oldest rule in the book because it's the truest. Don't tell me your hero is a good guy; show him doing something mundane that proves it. Maybe he stops to help an old lady pick up groceries, or he volunteers at the local animal shelter. Show me he's a loving father by having him patiently tie his son's shoes for the hundredth time, even though he's in a hurry. These small, quiet moments are the foundation you're building. They make the reader care about him before the first drop of blood is spilled.
The Villain: The Monster with a Face
A killer clown is just greasepaint without a child to terrify. The same goes for the villain. The most effective ones aren't just evil; they have a purpose. Just as you gave your hero a personal desire, give your villain a personal motivation.
The Villain as a Reflection: A great villain often reflects the hero's greatest fears. If your hero is afraid of losing his mind, the villain could be a figure who represents chaos and madness. This makes the conflict deeply personal. The monster isn't just an external threat; it's a living embodiment of the hero's internal struggle.
Justification, Not Redemption: Don't try to make your readers like a villain's evil actions, but help them understand why the villain is doing what they're doing. A villain driven by revenge for a past trauma or twisted logic is far more terrifying than one who is evil for no reason. The villain isn't just evil; they are broken. Maybe they believe that their horrific actions are a necessary evil. Perhaps they think that they're saving the world from something worse. A villain who believes they are the hero of their own story is far more compelling and frightening than one who is simply a force of nature.
Don't Forget the Supporting Cast
Your secondary characters are not just monster fodder. They are there to serve a purpose, to make the story richer, and to give the reader more to lose.
Give Them Unique Fears: Each character should have their own specific fear. This allows you to explore different types of horror. One character might fear losing their memory, another might fear claustrophobia, and a third might fear being alone. This adds more layers to the story and gives you more ways to terrify your readers.
Give Them a Purpose: What do these characters contribute to the story? Do they have a skill that is needed later? Do they provide a moment of emotional support or conflict with the protagonist? Their purpose makes their potential demise feel earned and tragic. When a character dies, the reader shouldn't just be thinking, "Okay, another one bites the dust." They should be thinking, "Oh, no, not them. They were the only one who knew how to turn off the power."
The Assignment: The Character Profile
We've talked a lot about theory, but now it's time to get your hands dirty. This is where you bring your fears and your characters together.
Assignment #3: Build Your Cast.
Take three of the fears from your last assignment and assign each one to a different character. For each character, write a short profile.
Protagonist: Give them a name and a simple backstory. What is their most secret fear? What is their most obvious flaw? What do they want more than anything in the world?
Supporting Character: Give them a name and a specific skill or quirk. What is their greatest fear, and how does it conflict with the protagonist's?
Villain: Give them a name and a motivation. What do they want, and why are they doing what they're doing? How do they personally threaten the protagonist and their greatest fear?
Remember, horror doesn't start with monsters. It starts with you. With the things you're afraid to admit. But monsters only matter if they have someone to haunt. Freddy scared me because I was a kid in a dark bedroom. Jack Torrance scares us because he was a father before he was a murderer. Now you have the tools to build the people who will bleed, breathe, and beg.
In Chapter Three, we'll talk about how to take these characters and put them in a house with a monster. We'll talk about building tension, pacing, and how to make a scare stick.