I love caves as a horror theme but I HATE when there are things in the caves. Horror writers utterly ruin cave stories by not realizing that the cave itself is the monster.
It’s fine when caves are a gateway that something is coming through, or the cave is somehow alive and malicious, or if the only monster is what the narrator brings in with themself, but I hate hate hate when writers expect me to be creeped out by spelunkers being menaced by creatures that live inside the cave.
my beloved mutual, I agree that every labyrinth needs its minotaur
but the horror of a labyrinth from the perspective of Theseus is nothing like the horror of a labyrinth from the perspective of the Minotaur… a cave is horrifying because the Earth built it to contain you
“A cave is horrifying because the Earth built it to contain you”
So I was fully on board with both sentiments, cave as the horror sounds cool and monster in the cave is cool, and then comes that line and holy shit that is a new horrifying thought.
I think I’ll put it in a story somewhere
It’s a thought I always have while caving. Looking into a naturally-formed chamber or hallway that has never seen the light of day is eerie—there’s a reason specific chambers end up with architectural names, like “the ballroom” or “the great hall”. The resemblance to human habitation and artefact is uncanny… sprawling, incomprehensible structures in crude mockery of buildings and cathedrals and dungeons, as though designed by some awful alien intelligence that had only dreamt of human needs. Inhospitable doll-houses, lightless, windowless, with oubliettes and dungeons and poison winds and air that robs the breath from your lungs. We refer to our ancient ancestors as “cavemen” but they were no more adapted to the labyrinthine darkness than we are today—we did not spring from caves but from the treetops and savannas with the sun and stars above us. A cave is a mouth, a throat, a digestive system. It is just tempting enough to draw us in—cool and sheltered and beautiful, but it has no real will to sustain us. Green things do not grow in caves. Even the other predatory creatures that shared our caves fell victim to them, when they slipped or strayed or wandered too deep.
and this is where i come in to recommend my favorite video essay of all time
Adding another video. Whole thing is good, but I want to highlight the part from 10:53 to about 13:05. Trypophobia warning for those who need it.
This is probably the realest depiction I’ve seen in a game of ‘you cannot hope to find your way back from here’ cave horror. I’ve heard stories about real people winding up in situations like this and drowning or otherwise running out of oxygen in a limited air pocket. When the player looks back, the horror for me is recognizing what is being depicted. Game may or may not be gentler given real caves are pitch black. Depends on your point of view.
The Jacob Geller video is also extremely good and thorough. All I can add is this:
Cavers sometimes talk about why they venture in. They talk about the wonder of seeing a place few (if any) other humans have seen before. They talk about the importance of training and safety procedures and knowing your limits.
Unspool rope to mark the way you came. Do not go alone. Do not stray from the path. Do not disobey the instructions you were given. Do not believe the cave will show mercy if you test it. Do not imagine you are stronger or smarter than this place. You have slipped between the jaws of the earth and it will devour you given the chance.
We only have so many things left in the world that carry the echoes of fairytales. Some of those things are caves.
we all have mutuals who are no longer in the same fandoms, and mutuals who have gone into fandoms where we cannot follow, and mutuals who have never been in the same fandoms
but what about those mutuals in fandoms that we don’t even recognize. none of the names and gifs and meta and tags mean anything. we aren’t even sure what type of media it is. maybe it’s anime. maybe it’s a sport team. maybe it’s a television show from the ‘90s. we don’t know. we will never ask. we’re glad they’re having fun.
That thing about how cats think humans are big kittens is a myth, y’know.
It’s basically born of false assumptions; folks were trying to explain how a naturally solitary animal could form such complex social bonds with humans, and the explanation they settled on is “it’s a displaced parent/child bond”.
The trouble is, cats aren’t naturally solitary. We just assumed they were based on observations of European wildcats - but housecats aren’t descended from European wildcats. They’re descended from African wildcats, which are known to hunt in bonded pairs and family groupings, and that social tendency is even stronger in their domesticated relatives. The natural social unit of the housecat is a colony: a loose affiliation of cats centred around a shared territory held by alliance of dominant females, who raise all of the colony’s kittens communally.
It’s often remarked that dogs understand that humans are different, while cats just think humans are big, clumsy cats, and that’s totally true - but they regard us as adult colonymates, not as kittens, and all of their social behaviour toward us makes a lot more sense through that lens.
They like to cuddle because communal grooming is how cats bond with colonymates - it establishes a shared scent-identity for the colony and helps clean spots that they can’t easily reach on their own.
They bring us dead animals because cats transport surplus kills back to the colony’s shared territory for consumption by pregnant, nursing, or sick colonymates who can’t easily hunt on their own. Indeed, that’s why they kill so much more than they individually need - it’s not for fun, but to generate enough surplus kills to sustain the colony’s non-hunting members.
They’re okay with us messing with their kittens because communal parenting is the norm in a colony setting, and us being colonymates in their minds automatically makes us co-parents.
It’s even why many cats are so much more tolerant toward very small children, as long as those children are related to one of their regular humans: they can tell the difference between human adults and human “kittens”, and your kittens are their kittens.
Basically, you’re going to have a much easier time getting a handle on why your cat does why your cat does if you remember that the natural mode of social organisation for cats is not as isolated solitary hunters, but as a big communal catpile - and for that purpose, you count as a cat.
