Interference

After leaving the city behind, Nora and Daniel move to a quiet woodland park in search of a fresh start. Struggling to adapt to her new surroundings, Nora becomes increasingly disturbed by the strange nightly rituals of the residents. As mysterious lights begin to pulse above the forest and an unseen presence closes in, she discovers that the community has surrendered to something vast, ancient and impossible to comprehend.

Interference began after my wife and I fulfilled a long-held dream of moving to a woodland area. After more than twenty years in Hilversum, we returned to Limburg, where we built our home surrounded by forests and nature. It was everything we had hoped for—but the transition proved more difficult than we had imagined.

Building a house from the ground up brought its own challenges, while leaving behind friends, colleagues and the familiar rhythm of city life took a greater emotional toll than either of us expected. My wife especially struggled with the sudden sense of isolation, and there were moments when the pull of our old life felt almost impossible to ignore.

Despite that, we loved the place. One thing immediately caught our attention: every resident greeted one another in exactly the same way. It wasn't strange or threatening—just a small ritual that happened every single time. Combined with the surrounding forest and the almost surreal stillness of the park, it slowly planted the seed for Interference.

I've always been fascinated by the idea that horror doesn't have to invade a place—it can already be there, quietly waiting beneath everyday life. Interference grew from that thought: the unsettling feeling that somewhere seemingly peaceful, everyone already knows something you don't.