🎬 Sunday Screams: PHANTASM (1979)“You think that when you die, you go to Heaven. You come to us!” – The Tall Man

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☠️ Opening Monologue from The Nightly Storyteller:

There’s a moment, right before sleep takes you, when the walls shift. Your mind tells you the shadows are still, but your bones know better. In that moment, a hallway stretches where there wasn’t one before. A tall figure waits, always just around the corner. Death isn’t what we fear—it’s what follows after.


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⚔️ Chapter: The Fracture

The Storyteller sat cross-legged in the circle of firelight. His breath came in slow, deliberate rhythm as he blocked another strike—barely—from the Clatchi.

They surrounded him, three of them tonight. Seraphine watched silently from the stone ledge above. His limbs ached. His mind fogged. His thoughts scattered like ash in wind.

“I’m done,” he growled. “They don’t teach. They just attack.”

He stumbled to the edge of the glade, wiped the sweat from his brow, and pulled the old flip phone from his coat pocket. It was ringing—again.

Unknown Number.

He sighed and answered, “What?!”

Static. Then the voice—gravel, rage, and warning:

“He’s coming through—he’s—”

Click. The phone slipped from his grip, shattered against the stone. The screen cracked, the crunch of plastic echoing through the cavern. The voice still whispered… through the shattered speaker. Words twisted in ways that shouldn’t exist. 🌀

The Clatchi’s ears twitched. Seraphine sniffed the air.

The Storyteller’s eyes rolled back. His body convulsed—tremors like lightning bolts ripping through his muscles ⚡️. Blood trickled from one ear. Then—after long, violent minutes—they rolled forward.

He stood. Still him—but not.

When Seraphine and the Clatchi approached, they tasted the air.

“He’s different,” Seraphine whispered. “I don’t taste fear.”

“I don’t know what I taste,” said the eldest Clatchi. “But it isn’t human.”


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🧠 Training, Again

One last time. One last session.

The Clatchi attacked in unison—blades flashing, growls tearing from their throats. But he didn’t flinch.

He dodged, blocked, and countered. His fingers slashed upward—intended only to deflect—but instead, a blast of energy exploded from his hand, lighting the sky above the ruins. 🌠

The Clatchi leapt aside effortlessly.

“He is ready,” they said to Seraphine.

She nodded, slowly.

“Now is the time,” she said. “He must know the truth.”

The fire behind them dimmed. Somewhere in the trees, a metal sphere hummed.


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🎥 Phantasm: A Dream Within a Dream

Don Coscarelli’s Phantasm is unlike anything that came before—or after. Released in 1979, it merges sci-fi, surrealism, and straight-up nightmare logic in a way that makes your skin crawl even if you can’t explain why.

The Tall Man (played with sinister grace by Angus Scrimm) isn’t just a villain—he’s entropy personified. The silver sphere? Terrifying. Jaw-clenching. But it’s the film’s atmosphere—its dreamlike structure—that cements its legacy in horror.

You don’t watch Phantasm. You experience it.

And if you’ve ever lost someone and dreamed they came back—only for it to twist into a waking nightmare—you already understand this film.


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🎯 Final Thoughts

The Storyteller’s mind fractured under pressure—but something crawled through the cracks.

Just like in Phantasm, the barrier between worlds is thin, the rules unreliable, and truth… subjective. 👁️

What’s real?

What’s imagined?

Does it matter if both can kill you?


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And if you dare… drop a comment and tell me your favorite scary movie, urban legend, or horror memory.
We’re just getting started—and things are about to get dark.

🌒 thenightlystoryteller.blogspot.com



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