The Horrors of Liminal Spaces: Why We Fear the In-Between in Horror Fiction

There’s a strange kind of fear that doesn’t rely on monsters, blood, or screams. It’s the feeling you get walking through an empty hallway in a school after hours. Or standing alone in a parking garage that seems just a little too quiet. Or staring into a foggy gas station where the lights buzz but no one's behind the counter.

That unsettling sensation? You’ve just stepped into a liminal space.

And in horror fiction, liminal spaces are some of the most powerful—and overlooked—tools for creating dread.

What Is a Liminal Space?

The word "liminal" comes from the Latin word limen, meaning “threshold.” A liminal space is a place of transition—a passage between two states. In fiction and folklore, these are the cracks between the known and unknown.

In architecture and everyday life, liminal spaces include:

• Hallways

• Airports

• Empty malls

• Abandoned schools

• Gas stations at 3 a.m.

• Hotels at night

In horror, these places feel off because they exist in a state of pause—spaces meant to be passed through, not inhabited. When they linger in stillness, they become eerie. Haunted. Wrong.

Why Liminal Spaces Unnerve Us

Liminal spaces tap into psychological unease in a few key ways:

1. Uncanny Familiarity

You recognize the place—but something’s not quite right. The lighting is weird. The proportions feel off. You feel like you shouldn’t be there.

2. Absence of Life

These are often places designed for people… but no people are there. It feels like you missed something. Or something missed you.

3. Suspended Time

Liminal horror thrives on timelessness. You can’t tell what time of day it is. You don’t know how long you’ve been there. It’s outside the flow of reality.

Liminal Horror in Fiction

Many horror authors and filmmakers use liminal spaces without ever naming them. They’re the quiet, slow-burning dread that sets the tone long before the monster shows up.

1. The Backrooms

Originally a creepypasta and now a sprawling internet mythos, The Backrooms are the ultimate liminal horror setting. It begins with a single cursed photo of yellow, buzzing office space—and a warning: “If you're not careful and you noclip out of reality, you'll end up in the Backrooms.”

Thousands of fans have expanded it into levels, entities, and psychological terror.

2. House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski

In this cult novel, a house is bigger on the inside than the outside—and includes an endless, shifting hallway that seems to go on forever. It’s a literal liminal space: one that resists understanding, time, and dimension.

3. Silent Hill (Video Game Series)

The town of Silent Hill is a masterclass in liminal dread. Empty streets, fog-choked alleyways, abandoned hospitals—all transitional zones, all loaded with surreal horror. It’s not just about monsters; it’s about a place that should be real, but isn’t quite.

4. The Overlook Hotel – The Shining

Stephen King’s iconic hotel in The Shining is packed with liminal horror: endless hallways, mirrored bathrooms, ballrooms with no guests. It’s a place caught between life and death, sanity and madness.

Kubrick’s film adaptation made it even eerier with symmetrical shots, long tracking shots through empty spaces, and uncanny silences.

Liminal Horror in Internet Culture

The rise of "liminalcore" online—especially on TikTok, Reddit, and YouTube—has created a surge of interest in these uncanny places. Entire communities are dedicated to sharing eerily empty photos of playgrounds at night or abandoned department stores bathed in fluorescent light.

These images inspire analog horror, found footage, and short fiction built around the unease of being somewhere you’re not supposed to linger.

Why Horror Writers Should Use Liminal Spaces

As a horror writer, liminal spaces are an incredible tool because they:

• Set the mood without needing a monster

• Tap into universal unease

• Let you delay the horror while building dread

• Make your setting feel alive, haunted, and personal

Think of liminal horror as haunting with atmosphere. It's what lets readers feel tension just from a hallway. No blood, no gore—just a buzzing light and too much silence.

Tips for Writing Liminal Horror

Want to try your hand at it? Here’s how to incorporate liminal horror into your next story:

1. Focus on Setting First

Don’t start with a killer—start with a space. A bus terminal at 1 a.m. A hotel hallway with peeling wallpaper. Let the setting be the villain.

2. Use Vague Descriptions

Liminal horror thrives on ambiguity. Don't describe every detail—hint at shapes, shadows, feelings. Let the reader’s brain fill in the unease.

3. Play With Time

Make your character lose track of time. Let them loop through the same hallway. Let their phone glitch. It’s a space between time.

4. Keep the Space Active

Liminal spaces shouldn’t just be passive—they should respond. Maybe the hallway stretches. Maybe the lights flicker when the character speaks. Let the setting seem alive.

5. Avoid Explaining Too Much

The more you explain the horror, the less scary it gets. Liminal horror works best when the fear is just out of reach—something's wrong, but you can't name it.

Final Thoughts: Fear Between the Lines

Liminal spaces don’t chase you. They don’t lunge from the shadows. They just exist—quiet, off-kilter, and loaded with dread. And sometimes, that’s more terrifying than any monster.

In a world filled with screamers, gore, and slashers, liminal horror offers something different: a creeping fear that sinks in slow. It’s the unease that makes you turn on an extra light or look twice down the hallway before you go to bed.

So the next time you walk through an airport terminal at night or pass by an empty laundromat lit by a single buzzing light…

Ask yourself: What’s waiting between here and there?

Be sure to check out my latest novel, which is a cult horror tale called The Given.

Or, be sure to visit my online bookstore and see all of my work in all formats.