How to Make a Viral TikTok Horror Film

Instructions by Ivy Dennis, Director of the Award-Winning Shorts “From a Victim’s Perspective” and “On a Razor’s Edge”

Hey there, horror fan! So, you want to make a killer TikTok horror film, huh?

Well, buckle up, because I’m Ivy, and I’m going to take you step-by-step through everything you need to know. This isn’t your usual “found footage in a forest” type of scare-fest—oh no. We’re going to make something that creeps under your skin, something that lingers in the back of your mind long after you’ve scrolled past. Something people will watch, rewatch, and then regret watching at 3 a.m.

I’ve been perfecting the art of fear for years now, and trust me, I’ve learned what works. You see, a good horror film isn’t about jump scares. It’s about building a world that’s almost too real, where every flicker, every breath, and every darkened corner feels like it’s watching you right back. Lucky for you, I’m about to share all my tricks.

But here’s the thing—I need you to follow my instructions exactly. Every step, word for word. This isn’t just some “how-to.” Think of it more like… a ritual. A rite of passage. The difference between a horror film that’s just spooky and one that feels like it’s… let’s say, reaching through the screen.

Are you still in?

Good. Let’s get started with Step 1: The Location.

You’re going to need somewhere quiet, somewhere dark. And if it feels like you’re not alone? Perfect.

Step 1: Choose Your Location

Find a place no one would want to enter alone—a crumbling house, an overgrown forest, or an abandoned school at the end of a dead-end road. You want a place that breathes, a place that knows its own silence. Visit it during the day, memorize its shadows. Return at night. Stand in the doorway. Listen. If you hear a creak behind you, don’t turn around.

Step 2: Lighting

Lighting is everything. Start with natural light, but keep a small flashlight with a flickering bulb for the close-ups. It’s critical that you don’t use artificial filters or fancy lighting tricks. Let the darkness grow naturally, like it’s creeping over the edges of the frame, swallowing up the corners. There’s something about an untouched darkness, you know? Real shadows have a way of hiding things.

You’ll want to set the lighting so that shadows seem to deepen as you move. Not that it matters much. I know you’re watching closely, following each detail I add here, right? It’s funny—I didn’t think I was alone when I wrote the last draft either.

When you reach Step 8… actually, I’m not sure you should. Maybe… you should stop reading now.

Step 3: The Soundtrack

Sound is more powerful than visuals in horror. Record the sounds of an empty room—a distant hum, faint footsteps if you can. If you’re alone while doing this… maybe don’t listen to it back. I thought I was alone when I did, but then I heard myself… in the recording, saying something I don’t remember saying. Maybe this is just the story trying to tell itself.

Don’t forget to record what you hear at 3:00 a.m., because there’s always something. There’s a low hum, a shuffle—no one else might hear it, but I guarantee your viewers will feel it.

Sound is more powerful than visuals in horror. Whatever you do, don't record your own heartbeat.

Step 4: The Lead Actor

Your protagonist should look like they don’t belong there like they’re lost or intruding on something sacred. Give them a wide-eyed look, like they’re constantly seeing something just behind the camera. Find someone who looks lost, vulnerable, like they know something they can’t admit. They should look exactly how I feel right now. Or maybe, since you’re reading this… you’d like to be the one in front of the camera. Go on. It’ll be easier if you just let yourself be part of it.

You might want to ask if they have a history of sleepwalking or any history of night terrors—don’t be shy; it’s essential. Film a few minutes of them just standing in silence, like they’re listening to something you can’t hear. Watch them closely. Tell them not to react if they hear footsteps during filming. Make sure they know not to react. Leave them alone with the camera for several minutes, an hour even.

Scratch that. Don't leave the actor alone. I don’t care if it’s just for a minute, just—don’t.

The lead actor should avoid looking directly into any mirrors on set. And… they definitely shouldn’t linger if they think they see someone moving behind them. I learned that the hard way.

Step 5: The Sequence

Begin the film with simple, repetitive actions. A door creaking open. The actor walking down the hall. Have them repeat these actions, over and over. Instruct them to move a little slower each time, as if they’re wading through something heavy, like water. If they start to forget things—lines, movements, even your name—encourage it. Forgetting is part of the process. It’s part of the story.

If you’re still reading, you’re already part of this. You’re here with me, watching as I watch myself. Every line I write, you follow. Do you see that camera at the top of your screen? Who’s watching whom?

Step 6: Visual Disturbances

Use subtle distortions in the frame. There’s no need to add special effects; instead, play with angles that don’t feel quite right, capturing fragments rather than full images. Let the frame blur a bit, especially in places where it feels like something else is watching. Tell the actor to hold very still. If they start to tremble, let them. If they say they see someone in the background, tell them not to mention it again. They need to focus on their role.

When you’re filming the distortions, you’ll feel it too—the pressure, like something leaning over your shoulder. I tried not to look, but then the sound… you’ll know it when you hear it. That whispering—it was my voice. But I wasn’t speaking.

Step 7: Filming the Climax

This scene is essential. Bring the actor to the darkest point of the location—somewhere you know is unnaturally cold or has that sour smell you can’t quite place. Have them turn away from the camera, facing a wall, and speak as if to someone only they can see. Don’t script this part. Whisper to them that they should imagine the person they most fear. Keep recording, no matter what happens. The camera will pick up more than you realize.

If you’re reading this, look closely. At first, you might only catch a faint outline, the glint of my reflection in your screen—there, right now. Do you see me? I’ve been watching you this whole time. You should have looked away when you had the chance.

This isn’t a game. Please don’t follow all the steps. Just leave it here. Don’t go to Step 8. There are things… things you can’t undo.

The actor will see something, but don’t let them react. You don’t want… them to notice. (I’m sorry, I… don’t remember if I ever left the set that night. But the footage was still… how did I edit this again?)

Step 8: The Ending

Leave the camera rolling when you’re done. Don’t call “cut.” Don’t turn the lights back on. Exit the location, quietly, leaving the actor and the camera alone for exactly sixty seconds before returning. When you watch the footage later, pay attention to what happens in those sixty seconds. If you hear your own voice calling for you, turn the volume off immediately. Trust me. You do not want to hear what it says.

Last Note
You’re part of this now, just as much as I am. I see you—yes, you, reading this. You’ve read every line, just as I knew you would. You’re watching me, but don’t look away from the screen yet. I’ll be here, waiting. I’ll be…