When I was a kid I used to have this reoccurring nightmare where I was in an old, dilapidated house by myself. Walking carefully along the cobweb laden hallway an arm would reach from somewhere low in the wall, grabbing my ankle. The rest of the dream would be me fruitlessly trying to escape the hellish home pursed by the thing in the wall. The only way I ever did was to wake up.
It's not something I've thought of in years. Not until recently at least. Not until I watched Wes Craven's
The People Under the Stairs. Of course, the plot of this film comes from Craven's own dreams. That, coupled with a real news story of a family that kept their children locked in the basement.
