I used to have a strong thirst for horrifying fiction. Certain themes and experiences in particular.
I ate and ate and ate the stuff up.
I believe, now, that I was seeking to understand something elemental to my own pain and horror inside. I was collecting material, and finding a place to freely explore feelings/ideas/shock. It was a relief. It felt good. These are the types of things most people do not like to speak about, or know how to - eh, it's simply not pleasant conversation to most. Yet, even in terror and horror there is wonder. A part that is fascinated - by what is happening, by oneself.
Eventually I started pouring out my own stories and 'art' : horror comes easily to me. As a genre, I suppose. Maybe it's simple home-therapy. Getting the bad stuff out and synthesized somehow.
Now, I still enjoy reading a good (or pulpy even) horrible fiction. There needs to be a 'spark' an idea, a new world, or something that hooks me in though.
I suppose I may be rather jaded or guarded, bc few things move me to feel horrified (in books and fiction and movies etc.). It takes a special something or other.
Reality is sicker than fiction! Much more disturbing.