Shock Totem 4: Curious Tales of the Macabre and Twisted

by Shock Totem

  The volume starts off strong with “Tom Chestnutt's Midnight Blues,” by Robert J. Wiersema, a moody story about a musician on tour with his band...and the ghost of his fiancée. This story is deliberately-paced and intercut with segments of an interview with the main character. It's a slow and effective tone-setter about art, guilt, lust, and family, all themes that appear throughout the anthology.

  From that story about a tour, the book sets off on a tour of its own. The settings range from cities to beaches to small towns isolated by winter. Toronto makes an appearance; so does London. We see field hospitals, public parks, and highways late at night, all overlaid with a deep, subtle sense of dread. The dread makes it easy to go from one story to the next. The persistent bleakness becomes a uniter.

  That tendency may explain why the theme of family turns up again and again. In Claude Lalumière's lovely “Dead,” a polyamorous family makes and breaks itself around its special-needs son. “King Him,” by Richard Gavin, follows a woman enslaved to the voices in her brother's head; whether King Him is a deity or delusion, the siblings must deal with him together. “The Needle's Eye,” by Suzanne Church, turns a grim scenario into a sweet story of a family's formation; in Tia V. Travis's “The Weight of Stones,” families are torn apart by forces of man and nature. My favorite piece, Leah Bobet's character-thick “Stay,” treats an entire remote village as a single slapdash family—including the strange, sick white man who blunders into their care.

  Chilling Tales's strengths are the diversity of its tales and the uniform skill with which they are told. Its players are doctors and animal husbandry technicians, cooks and private eyes, students, miners, and people who do nothing if they can help it. Taken together, these stories form an engaging portrait of modern horror, through the lens of the darkest shadows of Canada. Vast? Certainly. Lonely? Not at all. For lovers of dark fiction, this artful anthology makes very good company.

  —Amanda C. Davis

  The Infection by Craig DiLouie; Permuted Press, 2011; 278 pgs.

  The sub-genre of apocalyptic fiction has really taken off as of late. It seems that everyone and their mother are now penning a book dealing with the End of Days, and I’ve read my fair share of them—particularly when it comes to the subject of zombies. I’ve had a love affair with the meandering undead since I was a wee frightened lad, and ever since then I’ve torn into whatever material I can when it comes to this subject matter.

  I have found, however, that with the sheer quantity offered, many of these novels blend into one huge, intestine-chewing lump in my brain. It takes a special sort of zombie novel for me to remember not only the plot (if there is one; many zombie tales end up being nothing but expositions on gore), but the emotions I felt while reading; which, to me, is undeniably more important than anything.

  The Infection, the wonderful new tale of woe and man-eaters by Craig DiLouie, is one of those “special” books.

  In DiLouie’s world, the end starts with a strange malady that causes one-third of the world’s population to break out screaming, suffer massive seizures, and then fall into a state of catatonia. Then, three days after the event, these “Screamers” wake up. They are violent, fast, and driven to both eat and spread their infection, which fully afflicts its victims after a rather sparse three-minute incubation period.

  Society breaks down in a matter of days, leaving roving bands of survivors to try and seek a safe haven. It is at this point that The Infection begins, introducing us to a varied group (including a preacher, a school teacher, a cop, three soldiers, a sixteen-year-old boy, and a rather tainted homemaker), who traverse across greater Pittsburgh in their Bradley (basically a tank with a smaller turret designed to be a quite-deadly armored personnel carrier) in search of somewhere, anywhere, that they can rest their weary bones for a night, perhaps longer. The Infected are always at their heels, as well as a few other (rather ingenious) beasts, which, when added together, create a nice little mystery as to why this outbreak happened in the first place. Is it the wrath of an angry God? Aliens seeking to eliminate the local inhabitants so they can re-populate with their own kind? The text offers clues, but never says the answer outright, which makes for a nice little mystery in the middle of all the madness.

  The plot of the book is rather simple—folks run from monsters, find shelter, run again, find shelter again, discover they don’t know how to live like real people anymore, and go destroy a bridge to stop the Infected and friends from crossing the river. As I said, not the most complex plot in the world.

  But plot isn’t where The Infection gains its significance. Yes, there are zombies (or pseudo-zombies) and other assorted baddies, but this is a book about them as much as The Telltale Heart is about a fancy puzzle box.

  DiLouie does a cut-up job of presenting what it would really be like if everything were to fall apart. The human element is on full display here—the longing, the despair, the paralyzing fear. There is sadness aplenty, and much longing for loved ones lost. The book’s structure is excellent in presenting this—it is told in present tense (which adds to the tension), with constant flashbacks pertaining to the individual journey of each character. Every one of them has lost something important—some more so than others—and all must come to grips with the fact that no matter if the planet recovers or not, they, as individuals, will never be the same again.

  To say that I found The Infection to be astute and poignant would be an understatement. It’s inventive and fresh, offering an insider’s perspective on pain and terror. The characters are wonderfully flawed and likeable, and I felt for them whenever I discovered what horrible events had played out in their pasts. The action scenes are concise and easy to follow, and DiLouie seems to have done his homework when it comes to the more technical aspects of modern warfare.

  This is a really good book, folks. It made me edgy, sad, joyous, and angry—sometimes at the same time. DiLouie is an author who knows his voice, and he uses it to near perfection. I will definitely be reading more of him in the future, and if you have any appreciation at all for tales of the apocalypse, this small-press offering is just about as good as it gets.

  —Robert J. Duperre

  Black Death, by Christopher Smith (director) and Dario Poloni (writer); starring Sean Bean, Eddie Redmayne, Carice Van Houten; 2010; R; 97 min.

  The year is 1348, and the Black Death is running rampant in Europe. Opinions in a small village in Britain are divided about what is causing the plague. Is it God's punishment for an unspecified sin, or is it an evil that can be fought and conquered with God's help? A young novice named Osmund (Eddie Redmayne) is less concerned with the theological implications than he is with protecting the life of a young maiden that he has secretly fallen in love with. He sends her away, but she begs him to join her, and thus begins his dilemma. Should he join the woman he loves and forgo becoming a monk or stay and serve God?

  He finds his answer in Sir Ulrich (Sean Bean), the leader of a small contingency of soldiers who are looking for a village said to be protected from the plague. Osmund offers to guide them to it and join up with his girl without having to reveal the real reason for leaving the abbey.

  But along the way, Ulrich confides in Osmund. The village is said to be protected by a necromancer, whom Ulrich means to kill. But is she, the necromancer, really bringing the dead back to life? Where does the real evil lie? These are the questions the film sets out to answer.

  But it goes about answering them in a heavy-handed fashion that feels more like a philosophy treatise than a film. By the end, we are doing no more than choosing sides based on our own biases. The moral ambiguity between competing religious viewpoints is handled fairly evenly, but subtlety is lacking. I would have been happier if the writer had spent less time raising questions and more time answering them. The ending in particular was filled with confusion, as the narration and visuals are diametrically opposed. We are left feeling puzzled and cheated out of any resolution.

  The only bright spot is the performance
of the cast. The actors are quite good at their craft, with the exception of the unremarkable Redmayne, but even the best actor can only do so much with a poorly written script. The film is billed as an action/horror hybrid, but there are few action scenes (although those few are done well), and little to no horror element. It's a real shame this movie could not deliver a better product with so much B-movie potential.

  —Nick Contor

  2012: Final Prayer: An End Times Anthology, Edited by R.M. Heske; Heske Horror, 2009; 154 pgs.

  Okay, so the world was supposed to end this past May.

  Well, begin to end, technically. Some man on the radio told me that everyone who was truly awesome would vanish and leave this realm behind.

  Wait. Truly awesome people? Transported to paradise?

  I had to think about that. Was I ready to leave? How would I explain all this to my girlfriend? What would I tell my family? But then I thought a little longer and realized something: If there’s a paradise, that’s where the dinosaurs went.

  “F this S,” I said to myself. “Come May, I’m gone!”

  Well, May is behind us and I’m still here. I guess the whole Apocalypse thing is a little trickier to figure out than some people thought, and that really sucks for me. In other words: It’s a bad idea to pimp slap your boss and set his lawn on fire Friday afternoon thinking you’ll be raptured over the weekend. Now work functions are awkward.

  But that’s okay, because while I sit around on a lonesome throne of regret, at least I have this comic-anthology to keep me company—2012: Final Prayer, edited by R.M. Heske.

  The first thing to mention about this anthology is the sheer amount of material. There is a lot of world ending going on in this thing. A LOT. And to fit so many writers and artists in a relatively small book, that means each story is about 6 pages long—not much time to get more than a taste. You can probably guess the inherent problem that brings with it. Stories so short, without time to breathe, all about the end of the world…yeah, you’ll be getting a sense of déjà vu before long.

  That’s not to say there’s not quality work in 2012: A Final Prayer. Far from it. For me, with stories bound to such a narrow topic, it became the presentation that made certain stories jump out—and a lot of them do. For example, “2012: Apocalypse in Five Parts,” written by Shamere Borg and Xander Bennett, with art by Melanie Cook, stands out nicely as it follows five story lines simultaneously. “Bird’s Eye View,” written by Arno Hunter, art by David Edwards, was another highlight, because they taught me the world was just a really big egg and it ends when a HUGE FREAKING BIRD hatches out of it! I’m riding that thing straight into the sun, ICARUS HAS NOTHING ON ME!

  In addition to the multitude of comics, there are a few post-apocalyptic short stories worth checking out if you’re one of those people who don’t need pictures. (One day I’ll read grown up books, too. Mom says I’m a late bloomer.)

  2012: The Final Prayer really is the “kitchen sink” of end-time comics, with so much material that anyone interested in the genre will find something to their liking. So if you’re like me and need cheering up in the form of watching others endure the end of life on Earth, this anthology is exactly what you’re looking for.

  —Ryan Bridger

  Dust to Dust, by Heavenly; Sanctuary Records, 2004; 13 tracks; 70 min.

  When most people think of power metal, they associate the genre with dragons, battles and all the happy galloping that is a constant among most bands in the genre. Heavenly, in their first three albums, certainly upheld that tradition well. In 2004 singer Benjamin Sotto cast off the clichés and issued an album based around the plight of a vampire, showing that this is not solely the domain of the Goth genre. The band molds great riffs, baroque and classical elements, energetic choirs and vocals from Sotto to create an effort that is both fun and catchy while at the same time serious and complex. The melodies on Dust to Dust are very infectious and keep the album interesting over its 70-minute span. Heavenly manages to avoid the over-orchestration pitfall and uses the harpsichord and piano elements to create a rich, lush landscape throughout the album.

  Dust to Dust is the story of a vampire focused on revenge against the demon that was responsible for his current state. The tale that Sotto casts takes the listener through centuries of unbridled hatred which are finally released in the final battle with his master creator. This three-chapter story is very dark, providing a stark juxtaposition to the “happy” music Heavenly previously released. The band succeeds in delivering a darker sound that is aggressive but still melodic. The music fits the darker lyrics and moods penned by the band all the while being graceful and authentic. Sotto’s vocals range from operatic to raw—giving the album a texture that keeps the listeners interest throughout.

  The songs:

  “Ashes to Ashes” – Heavenly uses the introductory orchestration to set the mood and story—the listener can feel the terror of the man as he tries to escape his pursuer, only to be caught. The narration of the demon master chills the listener as he narrates the wounds inflicted on the man right up through the conversion of the man into vampire.

  “Evil” – The bells toll and the story is off and running. The music gallops through the song along with an ever-present harpsichord that help the vocals stand out. “Evil” also features some really great chorus parts, which sets the tone for the rest of the album. The solo on this song is strong, aggressive, but melodic. It conveys the anger that the vampire has toward his demon maker.

  “Lust for Life” – This song is one of the strongest pieces on the album and can be counted among Heavenly’s best overall songs. The vocals are very strong throughout, complimented by a full on chorus that is very catchy. You will find yourself humming the chorus to this song without realizing it—which is a mark of a great song. The guitars are once again aggressive and powerful. There are multiple solo parts, which help convey the aggressiveness that the vampire is feeling.

  “Victory (Creature of the Night)” – Sotto starts off this song with a falsetto that is strong but not overpowering. His range is excellent throughout this album, but particularly obvious on this song. The guitars are once again full steam ahead and Sotto moves up and down his range from falsetto to raw to almost spoken parts. The harpsichord in the background, along with the chorus, interweave all these elements into one very catchy song.

  “Illusions, Part One” – Thunder and crashing are the course served up on this short song. The two mix to give a dark and eerie feeling to the listener that whatever coming is not good.

  “Illusions, Part Two (Call of the Wild)” – The eerie feeling gives way immediately to the speedy galloping of the guitar. The melody on this song is outstanding, enhanced by the vocals that Sotto offers—alternating between singing and growling. I did not expect the growls, but they give an added layer of angst to the music. The harpsichord solo is very impressive as well.

  “The Ritual” – Almost as quickly as the galloping guitars appeared in “Illusions, Part Two,” they are gone in “The Ritual,” giving way to a relaxed atmospheric piece that provides a brief interlude until the neoclassical guitar makes itself heard. The song is one of despair—highlighting the plight of the vampire and his seemingly endless existence. Sotto tones down his vocals to fit this more somber mood and the chorus parts help to reinforce the feelings on display.

  “Keepers of the Earth” – Another dual guitar/harpsichord attack. This song starts off slow, but with a bang, it rocks all the way through. Despite it being six minutes long, you really don’t notice while listening—it flies by with a speed that makes other bands envious.

  “Miracle” – A more mid-paced song, this one offers a piano interlude that is both haunting and refreshing. After the fast pace that the first part of the album takes on, it is time for a little breather to give the listener some time to get to know more of the angst that the vampire feels as he recalls his former life. The piano and flute accentuate the music and serve to counter the guitars that
come in screaming during the latter half of the song. This is one grandiose song that gives insight into the vampire and his desires.

  “Fight for Deliverance” – Enter the drum solo, pounding the aggression back into the story and setting up the guitars to continue their attack. It is at this point that the vampire understands that in order for him to shed this immortal coil, he must destroy the one that made him. The angst of existence begins its turn into the desire for revenge as an end to his current state of being. The piano provides an incredible mood at this pivotal juncture in the story. Sotto does a masterful job in hitting both the highs and lows in the vocal department. The range of vocals underscore the emotions felt in this song.

  “Hands of Darkness” – This is full on guitar shred combined with harpsichord. The song starts off with an excellent solo that really sets the mood. As the vampire begins his quest to have revenge on his creator, the demon master narrates that this rebellion is in vain and that tears will follow the path that the vampire has set out down. Once the narration is over, the solo continues to set the aggressive tone. The vampire knows what must be done and the demon master is all too aware of it.

  “Kingdom Come” – From the initial howl of laughter from the demon master and the angelic opening chorus introducing the vampire, “Kingdom Come” weaves all the themes and moods of Dust to Dust into this climactic song. The galloping guitars start off the attack, with Sotto’s vocals switching effortlessly between the high range and the raw growls back to the mid tone, all the while depicting the vampire and demon master in their final struggle. His voice reinforces the sheer force that is the battle between the two foes. The battle rages on, but in the end the vampire defeats the demon master and his humanity is restored at long last, ending centuries of despair.