Cosmic horror, also known as Lovecraftian horror or eldritch horror, is a subgenre of horror fiction that originated from the works of American writer H.P. Lovecraft and has since influenced numerous authors and artists. Cosmic horror explores the idea that human beings are insignificant in the grand cosmic scale, and that there are ancient, alien forces beyond human comprehension that pose a threat to our sanity and existence.

H.P. Lovecraft created a mythos known as the Cthulhu Mythos, which has become a central reference point for many authors working within the genre. Lovecraft’s works, such as “The Call of Cthulhu,” “At the Mountains of Madness,” and “The Shadow Over Innsmouth,” explore the cosmic horrors lurking beyond human comprehension and the psychological impact of encountering them.

Since Lovecraft’s time, numerous authors, including August Derleth, Clark Ashton Smith, and more recently, writers like Thomas Ligotti and Caitlín R. Kiernan, have continued to explore and expand upon the themes and concepts of cosmic horror.

In popular culture, cosmic horror has influenced a wide range of media, including literature, films, video games, and tabletop role-playing games. It continues to captivate audiences by tapping into the existential fear of the unknown and the insignificance of humanity in the vast cosmic tapestry.

that they are so large and incomprehensible that they do not care about us any more than you care about a single flatworm in the river muck of some
Siberian woodland”. It’s been “This magnificent thing which defies explanation and is so grand and big it refuses to obey such tiny concepts like physics and reality cares about us so much. It loves us. It is fascinated by us endlessly. It wants to bring us closer to it, to talk to it, to hold conversations. But it cannot understand us. And we cannot understand it. And
so it is terrible and dangerous.” Cosmic horror where the haunted house loves you so completely that it creates a door to a perfectly black hallway in your living room. You can walk down it for five and a half chilly minutes. Cosmic horror where your lonely domicile is so grateful that you live within its bones that it grows new
ones for you. It flexes its wallpaper tendons. It splays its stony foundations out for you, home-liver. It takes itself and it builds a home from which you are safe from all the outside world which could harm and age you. Here in these eternal attics and parlors and boudours and stairwells, the house will love you so
deeply that no one will ever see you again. Horror which is scary because the incomprehensible doesnt care about you will always amount to nothing when you know about
horror which is scary because the incomprehensible cares about you in a way which
you cannot tell it you do not want.