The human relationship with animals is as complicated as it is arbitrary. Why are some animals laid to rest in intricate pyramids, while others are topped with mustard and relish at a ballgame? Why are dogs smart enough to understand basic language, but not smart enough to avoid eating their own poop? At their best, animals are our best friends and companions, enriching our lives and teaching us selfless love. At their worst, they starkly remind us of our own capacity for coldness and cruelty.

The natural world has always been fertile ground for horror films. It’s no secret that nature is terrifying. The duality of the known and unknown sharpens our instincts, training our ears to every snapped twig or crunched leaf. The comfort of the human experience is fragile; a simple misstep can turn a leisurely hike into a tragedy. A staggering number of reported animal attacks occur at the hands (or paws) of a family pet. Who needs hockey masks and chainsaws when our own backyard is intent on our demise?

Here are five scenes from horror movies where animals brutally reminded us of our place in the system.

5. The Beyond (1981)

I’m starting this list with a scene that is dear to my heart—the tarantula murder scene from Lucio Fulci’s The Beyond.

Here’s the thing: Watching horror movies with my fiancée ranks exceedingly high on my list of inscrutable pleasures. Neither of us being the “quiet during movies” type, it’s particularly fun whenever an absolute gross-out scene manages to make either of us audibly uncomfortable. Unfortunately for her, “bugs” and “eye stuff” top her list of “nopes” in a way that makes The Beyond a subjective masterpiece for me.

Here’s the scene: A bolt of ghost-lightning knocks a man off a ladder in his study, rendering him nearly unconscious. As if demon-induced CTE wasn’t enough to worry about, an army of tarantulas shows up to finish him off.

The scene plays out over four long, creepy, crawly minutes and climaxes with some extremely uncomfortable close-ups of the man’s eyes and tongue being slowly eaten by tarantulas. Suffice it to say, I’ll be rewatching this one alone.

Listen, I don’t know what was going on in Italy in the ’70s, but they did produce some damned fine gore.

4. When Evil Lurks (2023)

Next up, we’ve got one of my favorite films from last year, When Evil Lurks—or as I like to call it, “my favorite movie where a Rottweiler murders a child.”

Maybe I gave up the goods too early here, but there aren’t many other ways to put it. This movie just goes there.

Here’s what this scene does well: If you’ve watched a horror flick before, you kind of see it coming. The director makes a point to highlight the dog in several lingering shots, giving you an alarming sense of scale between it and its soon-to-be victim. But while you hold your breath through several rounds of dialogue, you’re still not ready for the sheer brutality that follows. The attack occurs in the kitchen, then pans to a narrow shot under the table where the child is dragged. We’re then given an almost too-realistic shot of the dog shaking the child by the neck as if it’s playing with its favorite saliva-stained tennis ball. It’s a great scene to watch if you feel like upsetting yourself for a few days. Maybe tonight you’ll let Fido sleep on the couch after all?

3. Zombi 2 (1979)

Here’s a sad truth: Until quite recently, Italy’s animal welfare laws were very relaxed.

It’s why I grit my teeth whenever a cat walks into an Argento film. Let me make one thing clear: Being mean to animals sucks.

But on the off chance that you’ve forgotten to take your moral fiber today, check out Lucio Fulci’s Zombi 2 shark scene. Unlike its brutal contemporaries, most of the cruelty here occurs off-screen. The Zombi 2 shark scene is several pregnant minutes of exploitation film insanity, made possible by the real-life drugging of a captive shark and degree of bravery that is nigh indistinguishable from stupidity. By the way, if American zombies run and Italian zombies swim, what do Puerto Rican zombies do? Dance?

It’s a zombie fighting a shark underwater. It’s not that cool if you think too hard about it. Seriously, why can he swim? I don’t know. But it is fun to watch.

2. Grizzly (1976)

Not Jaws? You thought Jaws would make the list, didn’t you? Well, it didn’t. I already have one major production coming up on this list, so I’m reaching a little further into the dusty crate for this one. Instead, I’m going with Grizzly, or “Jaws, but with a bear.”

The plot here is simple: A state park gets terrorized by a bear, which turns out to be a previously believed-to-be-extinct species. The word “hypercarnivore” gets thrown around.

The first hour of the film takes the classic slasher approach of allowing only the murder weapon to be visible during kills. Except instead of a knife or axe, it’s a fake, stiff Grizzly bear arm. And it’s really sharp for some reason, as evidenced by its ability to cut cleanly through several limbs and at least one head.

The second grizzly murder occurs as a woman showers peacefully under a waterfall. A jarring musical cue lets us know that she is in danger. Then she is stiff-pawed to death in her nature shower. The camera cuts to a running creek below her, which turns red and then washes away as she bleeds out. That’s right. At some point in the production of this movie, director William Girdler decided that the Jaws comparison wasn’t good enough and tacked “Psycho, but with a bear” in there as well.

1. The Birds (1963)

I’d be remiss to write an article about silver screen animal attacks without mentioning the grandpappy of avian terror himself, Alfred Hitchcock. Let’s not kid ourselves, we’re not delving into some esoteric, dusty film reel here. “Hitchcockian” was probably 26-down on your weekly crossword. But sometimes, just sometimes, the hype is real.

The real-life story behind the filming of The Birds resembles your average Kubrick set or your above-average snuff film, and more to the point, appears to subscribe to the same philosophies. That is to say, real trauma plus an eye for photography often equals high art.

There are plenty of scenes during its nearly two-hour runtime that call to mind our own powerlessness against the natural world. Most of the film’s key moments detail the horror of the known, rather than the unknown. Maybe you’ve never before noticed how sharp a bird’s beak is or how long its talons are; but now you have, and suddenly about a hundred little beady eyes are looking back at you.

The film presents these stakes early on, and bluntly as a pugilist. As the island’s resident overbearing-mother character, Lydia Tandy, enters a neighbor’s house, we’re treated to an establishing shot of some shattered teacups and an unshakeable feeling that all is not right within. After a grueling, silent tracking shot down a long hallway, we are finally granted a frantic few shots that confirm our suspicions. This scene works particularly well as we shift to Lydia’s perspective: First, she sees the shattered window, with its culprit—a dead gull—still lodged within. Then she notices the remainder of the room in its various states of disarray. Another shattered window, two dead birds, and oh my gosh, the bed isn’t even made! Then comes the real horror.

Let me pause here to explain that I first watched this movie when I was seven, and then again when I was 31. What is the opposite of the Mandela Effect? Because that’s what I experienced here. I have remembered the pecked-out corpse of Lydia’s neighbor exactly as it was shot for going on three decades. Maybe it’s the lack of music or the way that the film triples down on zooming in on his hollow eye sockets, but there is something almost uncinematic about the reveal. Despite some ridiculously heavy gore for the ’60s, Hitchcock almost neglects to revel in it. We just sort of see it. And it’s as if he’s saying, “What do you think of that? Ugly, isn’t it?” And maybe there’s a metaphor about life itself in there somewhere, but who are we kidding? We’re not sticking around to learn it.