By TAY YEK KEAK

THERE are five spook tales in the Thai horror flick, Phobia 2, but only one gave me a bit of the creeps.

That's the story about a curious guy in a hospital who shares his room with a mysterious patient: an old man in a coma.

The nurse tells the fellow not to peek through the curtain which, in entertainment terms, is like telling Amy Winehouse not to drink any more booze.

Now, I was quite spooked by this scene because hospitals, as you know, are pretty scary places.

But thinking about abandoned hospitals made me realise that they scare me more than horror movies nowadays.

Not counting every time I receive my income-tax form, I haven't really been thoroughly freaked out of my pants since Shutter in 2004.

Saw that one?

It's about ghosts in photographs - and I'm not talking about Lindsay Lohan's skinny pics, which are also very frightening.

Boy, Shutter made me shudder. So why is it, I wonder, that horror movies don't scare me any more?

Honestly, the stories aren't good enough, aren't interesting enough, aren't different enough and, as far as twists go, even M. Night Shyamalan would have the Sixth Sense to smell a turkey.

And, mind you, Golden Village has carried a total of seven Asian horror titles this year. But to me, The Ghosts Of Girlfriends Past was scarier.

Now, I don't frighten easily when it comes to modern Western horror, either.

Sure, when it comes to classics like The Exorcist, The Omen and The Shining, I still need my bolster to keep me company at night.

But the newer ones - remakes of Asian chillers, sons of the Texas Chainsaw guy, Halloween 20 to 200, The Haunting In Connecticut - they're all a bit well, whatever.

But Asian horror films have traditionally scared me because: 1) I live here; 2) The people in the movies look like me, my girlfriend and my China mistress; 3) The things these folks believe, some of them I believe too.

Like the Seventh Month stuff in Kelvin Tong's The Maid (don't step on the ashes!), the airplane ride with a dead body in the first Phobia (fly SIA!), the dead child in the leaky apartment in Dark Water (call the plumber!) and the haunted TV set in The Ring (get a radio!).

They spook me so much I still cover myself with a blanket even though the little Ju-On boy ghost might be hiding in there, more scared than me.

But, lately, Asian horror has lost its magic. Meaning, I don't wet my pants any more. The main reason is that, these days, there are too many offerings that all look the same.

But hope springs eternal even in the infernal world. How can it not, when there's reincarnation, pontianak, Seventh Month, lucky coffins, mediums, forest spirits, HDB ghost, the cursed Toto booth which never gives me a winning ticket.

The next big original idea is just waiting to be exorcised and unleashed. I just know it.

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