The Doctor Nowhere Interview
Silas Orion Talks Analog Horror, Animation, And His Grandma’s Demon Encounter
There’s something beautiful about the creature in the woods. But you can’t quite put your finger on it.
It’s not its heartbeat (you can hear it), or the way it looms like a skyscraper (its ribcage protruding at the 23rd floor). Maybe its beauty comes from its face. But no, its brow casts a long shadow. You can only see its nose and chin … It’s standing in the distance, shoulders hunched, and as your mind blackens with fear, you realize that its beauty must come from its creation. It’s not real. It’s not real, you repeat. You close your eyes, and it’s gone.
Silas Orion, known as Doctor Nowhere online, is its creator. He has that eerie feeling bottled up, contained before breach, in the horror art he shares online.
The 19-year-old artist and animator began his journey emulating the work of analog horror artist Trevor Henderson, defined by mock CCTV camera stills of cryptids caught in car headlights or flying over suburban homes. At 16, Orion shared TOE1 and THE BOILED ONE PHENOMENON on YouTube. The latter became a defining piece of the genre, alongside Gemini Home Entertainment, The Backrooms (Found Footage), and LOCAL58TV. He says that he didn’t even know the term “analog horror” until fans said he had made a classic.
His latest work is more painterly and story-driven, but the lessons from those early days still shape everything. He spoke with us about those lessons, gave advice for aspiring horror artists, and revealed the inspirations behind some of his most iconic creations. Plus, tales from his early life prove terrifying, like his grandmother’s encounter with a demon.

Can you describe your work?
I think, dreamlike. I’ve loved the subconscious more as I’ve gotten older, like subconscious visions I get between sleep. They’re part of a bigger story that you can’t see. I love exploring those in-betweens.
Especially as I started drawing and telling stories, it was like, oh, this is free material [laughs].
Do you have any recurring dreams?
Every once in a great, great while, I’ll dream about this grove of trees in the middle of nowhere. Trees in my dreams tend to be intimidating, and I don’t really understand it.
What’s odd is that my dad actually had a dream like that when he was young. He had a dream about this tree in his front yard that emanated a bizarre heartbeat.
Did you grow up in the woods or something?
I grew up in a pretty small town, and for a good portion of my life, I did live in the woods. The nearest Walmart was 25 minutes away. But that connotation with trees, for whatever reason, wasn’t necessarily spawned from living around them; I don’t think.

What was an average Saturday for you as a kid?
Honestly, I drew. I drew so much. I liked creating stuff with clay, and when I read Captain Underpants and Calvin and Hobbes, I started making comic books. That was when I began to think, oh, wait, humans can just make shit. I could get on board with this.
Then came David Lynch and Jack Stauber, and a lot of different filmmakers and painters.
It’s funny that you said Captain Underpants first. It’s funny to think that Captain Underpants sparked what you’re making now.
[Laughs] Yeah, and then I got introduced to creepypastas and SCP Foundation somewhere along the line. I was both traumatized and inspired. I was like, I don’t feel like getting up in the middle of the night to pee because Jeff the Killer will fucking get me [laughs].
That totally evolved into me wanting to create scary things, so that I could be in control of them. At first, it was a coping mechanism, 100%. When I was 13, I got this drawing pad for Christmas, and I drew this creature under the bed. I was like, see! It’s not real. I can make it. None of this is real.

Have you ever experienced anything paranormal?
My grandmother once had an experience with a demon. And the way she described the shape of its head … It was shaped like it had a hat on, but there was hair coming from it.
The way my subconscious formed that shape … The fact that I couldn’t see it …
[To me] “scary” is lasting questions. After you’ve stopped watching, your mind starts to wander. You look into a dark corner, and your brain goes wild. I was young, probably too young to even be hearing that story. It was freaky.
Tell me more about it. Where was she? What happened?
It was in her house, and at the time, there wasn’t a lot of money in the house. The church she was going to wanted people to donate, so they gave people these little ceramic jars, shaped like bread, that you would put coins into throughout the week. Then at the end of the week, you’d give it to the church.
She didn’t want to give hers up because money was tight, and one night, she heard those coins jingling. She came out into the living room, and over in the kitchen, she saw this robed figure, with this strange oblong head, and it was, like, shaking the little ceramic jar.

She was frozen by fear, but then, she told me that she rebuked it in the name of Jesus Christ. And it disappeared. And the jar dropped.
She had this horrible headache afterwards, and she said, “Take your headache with you!” And the headache disappeared.
My family is quite spiritual, not necessarily super religious, but very spiritual, and so I’ve grown up acquainted with the idea of spirits and the weirdness that exists in this world.
Do you have a spirit animal?
Wow. That is a loaded question because I’ve thought about it a lot.
Um, I love bugs.
I really love the small world, the micro world. It’s shockingly colorful.
Praying mantis is probably my spirit animal. There’s something about them. They look slightly pretentious, but they really like art. They’ve got a weirdness to them.
Besides an insect spirit animal, I probably have to go with something under the sea, like a squid, like a humble squid. Yeah.
And why is that?
Sometimes I think I look like a squid who made a wish to be human.

Did you grow up in a creative household?
They’re closer to hippies, but not lethargic hippies, just like, live and let live. My dad’s a musician. He’s very artsy, cerebral. My mom’s crafty, creative.
They’re supportive, you know? They’re like, go do what you want to do, man. We don’t have to understand it all, but go do it.
So, why did you choose analog horror as an art style?
I had seen a handful of clips from The Mandela Catalogue, and my brother showed me this Gemini Home Entertainment video, but when I made The Boiled One, I didn’t know what I was doing was analog horror at first.
I just had the vision and drew the Boiled One, who was inspired by a bunch of creepypastas that freaked me out as a kid.
At the time, I was reading a true World War II story, and there were themes of war trauma and PTSD. The Boiled One was about trauma, just more lighthearted—not deep or introspective—just sort of an artistic take on it.
The first Locust video I did went viral at the same time. That blew up on TikTok. I was like, this is gaining steam, and so I continued that series from an analog horror perspective after seeing the formula a bit.
I quickly realized that the analog horror format was limiting to me personally. There’s a lot of great analog horror, but I love to explore things artistically and in detail, and I think that analog horror limits that.
So, I completely vetoed TOE and the Locust and began workshopping an actual story that’s now turned into something that I’m animating called SMILEHOOD.
It’s more of an animated series than analog horror, but it has a lot of those personal elements that analog horror has, which is like, you’re watching something you’re not supposed to. The being knows you’re there, and knows you’re watching it.
I don’t think that will ever leave anything I make. I will always love found footage; like, you’re not just watching fiction, you have a glimpse into another reality.
And what was the inspiration behind the Locust?
That was inspired by a pre-sleep vision I had of this tall, dark, thin, wiry armature. This man in a corner covered in blood. The room is covered in blood.
I drew it and then the face. Then the hand banging on the glass, which was inspired by an animation on lomando.com of this hooded face banging on the glass of your screen. It’s very violating, you know, breaking the fourth wall.
It evolved into what SMILEHOOD is about to become. It’s the biggest project I’ve ever embarked on and, I swear to God, sometimes I feel like I’m not even ready for it. People are gonna be shocked by it.
Do you want to give a sneak peek of SMILEHOOD?
I’m gonna be a little reserved about it, because I want it to be surprising. But if I could describe it …
… Read the full interview on the 65,000 website, here.





I love that Silas began drawing that which frightened him as a way of controlling it and having the knowledge to understand it as a coping mechanism. The “Captain Underpants” reference made me smile. The work-in-progress, at least the taste of it, was affectively creepy. Great interview.