A late-night smoke with cousins became the inspiration for Toronto director Abeeshan Arulnesan’s new horror short film Stalker. What began as a casual hangout soon turned into a meditation on friendship and paranoia.
“I thought about how smoking with friends feels like a ritual,” Arulnesan says. “It bonds you, but it also opens doors. Horror felt like the perfect way to explore that intimacy, and the consequences that ripple out from it.”
Building fear in a horror short film through restraint
The seven-minute horror short film avoids gore and spectacle. Instead, it leans into unease, building tension through subtle cues and withheld information. Viewers are left to question whether the stalker is real, imagined, or symbolic of deeper fears.
Arulnesan says he pulled inspiration from the classics. “The fear comes from not showing everything,” he says, pointing to Halloween, Jaws, and Psycho.
“When Ajay confronts the stalker, it’s not just a scare, it’s his deepest regret brought to life.”
That philosophy meant trusting the audience to sit with silence and uncertainty. The absence of jump scares forces viewers to focus on the psychological drama unfolding between two friends. What emerges is embodied in the form of a stalker.
A black-and-white vision for a horror short film
Shot in black and white with selective colour, Stalker creates a visual language that keeps attention on its core: the relationship between two young men. Arulnesan says the choice was as much practical as artistic.
“When I saw the raw footage in colour, I realized the visuals distracted from the performances,” he says. “Black and white kept us locked on the drama.” Natural light was the only resource available, so continuity became easier without worrying about shifts in tone or colour.
The look also matched the story’s themes. Ajay, one of the leads, views the world in absolutes: right and wrong, black and white. Using that palette underscored his rigid personality, while selective colour moments gave emphasis to symbolic details.
Arulnesan credits his team, including cinematographer Chirag Vishawanth and first assistant director Nerugan Loganathan, for making those stylistic choices possible on a small set. Their collaboration, he says, brought discipline to a shoot that could have easily been chaotic.
Friendship at the heart of the horror short film Stalker
At its core, Stalker is not just about paranoia. It is about friendship, the bond between Kevin and Ajay, and how unconscious choices can damage the people closest to us.
“Horror digs into what makes us human,” Arulnesan says. “Through friendship, it asks: what does it mean to be a good friend? How do unconscious choices affect the people closest to us?”
Casting was essential. Viyasan Thiruvananthaselvan and Jay Anthony, friends in real life, brought natural chemistry to the screen. “I told them: memorize the lines, then throw them away,” Arulnesan says. “Their gut instincts carried the weight of the story.”
Improvisation gave the performances authenticity, mixing humour with unease. Script supervisor Krusan kept the actors grounded so even ad-libbed lines fit the film’s emotional arc.
Arulnesan also credits his friend Yaathi Satha, who stepped in as both production assistant and the stalker on screen. ‘Without him, the film wouldn’t have come together.’ For Arulnesan, a film about friendship was ultimately powered by friendship
The result was dialogue that felt organic, while still carrying the narrative toward tragedy.
The woods setting shaped the horror short film atmosphere
The decision to film in the woods behind Arulnesan’s house was practical but symbolic.
“In high school, kids would sneak into the woods to smoke or do things hidden from society,” he says. “It’s a place of secrecy and exploration, especially for two brown kids whose choices carried extra weight.”
That layered meaning deepened the story. The woods became both a sanctuary and a trap, a private place where friendship could deepen but danger could also creep in. The isolation sharpened the tension, forcing the characters, and the audience, to confront what lurks in the shadows.
The paranoia of being watched in the horror short film Stalker
One of the film’s most compelling themes is the fear of being observed. The stalker embodies not only external danger but also internal fears we all have that bubble up from time to time.
“I wanted to stare at my worries,” Arulnesan says. “The stalker became a metaphor for repressed fears. It’s the doom we ignore, but it’s always there.”
By linking paranoia to guilt, Arulnesan shifts the horror from the external to the psychological. The stalker is not just an intruder in the woods, it is a manifestation of Ajay’s deepest anxieties, an ever-present reminder of choices that cannot be undone.
Toronto roots, future horizons
For Arulnesan, Toronto proves that a filmmaker doesn’t need Los Angeles to create compelling work. “You need a strong story, that’s what I’m chasing,” he says.
With the film industry shifting, he sees independent creators forging their own paths. His goal is to continue making horror shorts while developing a distinctive brand.
“I can’t share too much yet, but I have another horror short in development,” he says. “I’m aiming to finish it by year’s end.”
Where to watch the horror short film Stalker
The horror short film Stalker is still making its way through festival screenings, but Arulnesan plans to release it publicly on YouTube in October.
For him, the release marks the end of one stage and the start of another.