Return to Oz scared the crap out of me, too! Those wheeler things. Augh!
And The Incredible Hulk scared the crap out of me, too! I was 3 or 4. My parents were watching TV and I was playing in the floor. Suddenly I look up and he starts growling. There’s music, he’s turning green, and stuff is flaking off him–OMG! I ran into the kitchen and buried my face in the corner. They had to comfort me and tell me that it was ok, he was just getting mad to go fight the bad guys. It’s funny now, but…yeesh.
The idea of vampires somehow found its way into my head when I was little. My parents knew I was a squeamish child and tried to shelter me from horror, but I still discovered it. I don’t know how we absorb these things. Anyway, I would wake up absolutely terrified that there was a vampire in the room with me, just waiting for me to make a move or breathe. I *knew *it wasn’t there, but of course that doesn’t matter. I’d have to jump out of bed and rush across the room to the light switch, screaming all the way, so I’d be safe. This was between 6 and 8 or so. My parents would run in, yelling, “What?! What? What’s wrong?!! Are you ok?” and then get pretty annoyed when I was just afraid of the dark. This waking up to a screaming kid every night got a little old for them, obviously, and they increased my “no scary stuff” restrictions. That just made it all the more fascinating.
No matter how many times Mom would turn off the light and show me (“Look, that’s the laundry with the light on. Now, it’s still the laundry with the light off.”) nothing worked. Eventually, my dad brought me a stick, a crucifix, and a jar of garlic powder. They were a comfort.
My little brother used to be terrified of the doorbell. “Flapping around like headless chicken” terrified. Nothing like one of your high school friends coming to pick you up and your 3 year old brother panicking.
ETA: Oh yeah, also, Ghostbusters! (dang, that’s three…the 80s/early 90s was a stressful time to be a kid) Specifically, I was most afraid of the scene where she puts the baby in the bathtub and then that pink ooze (it made me think of blood and death) starts to drip out of the faucet. My mind: don’tletittouchthebabydon’tletittouchthebabydon’tletittouchthebaby…AIIIIIEEE!