Horror anthologies are great, especially those with a unified theme. In TATTERED SOULS, that theme is hard to discern immediately. From the introduction, it has something to do with something called “art,” but I’m not sure exactly what “art” is.
So I searched for another running theme to link these six rather uneven tales of horror, and the only other thing that jumped out was a penis. Make that several penises. In one memorable Black Flag record, Henry Rollins is clever enough to introduce the band members by their name and cock size (Kira, the female bassist, has the 10.5″!), so in that spirit: In “The Monkey Skin Cloak,” it’s a “thing as long as the arm of a young girl.” In “Other People,” “she had no reference for his size.” In “Drool,” “the small size of it disgusted him.” In “Clipped Dirty Wings,” it’s “the size of a billy club.”
All of the stories were written by men. Go figure. Perhaps Confucius was right when he claimed the penis was the axis upon which the world turned.
Jeff Crook’s “The Monkey Skin Coat” kicks off the collection. It’s a period piece once again reminding white people never to go to Africa and run over a native. Hilarity, hyena fellatio (yep – you read it right) and craaazy native monsters ensue. And a chick who grows a monkey wang. The mood is done nicely, the setting exotic, but the ending lacks some unique solution that would make the story itself more memorable.
Fortunately, some of the other stories carry the slower ones, which is a benefit surrounding an anthology. The aforementioned “Drool” by Chris Reed and “Other People” by Richard Wright are worth mentioning.
“Drool” gives us a glimpse into the depraved world of Charlie Hacker. He hears the voices in his head by splitting open his skin to let them talk – their lips red and wet, and speaking in murderous voices only he can hear. The ending was witty, and I won’t ruin the joke. “Other People” works on a more intellectual level. Normally, quotes by Sartre in the beginning are an alert to be wary, but here they work as a frame for a nihilistic take on urban despair in the form of twisted sex and death by dishwasher.
Perhaps the standout piece would be by newcomer Chris Ryan, whose “Terminal Condition” succeeds not so much in the actual tale, but in the way he tells it. The man can write and will be a talent to watch. His main character – a burned-out cop, haunted by death with every street encounter – comes to an epiphany during one miserable week. The twist wasn’t much of one, but Ryan gives us gems like “He viewed death like they did in medieval times. … Death was a real dude. He sits at your table when you eat, watches from the bedpost while you fuck and lovingly caresses your hair as you sleep.” I’m anxious to see what else comes from his pen.
“The End of Flesh,” from Matt Wallace – starring his Busboy Pacson character in a zombie world – may have a built-in following, but feels too much like a small piece of something much bigger to have much of a visceral impact. We’ve seen the unorthodox loner in every cop movie since the ’80s. Wallace places his hard-boiled tough guy among the ghouls and comes up short. The landscape fits, and Pacson is interesting, but it reads more like a B-movie than a story. From reading the author’s notes, it might just be. And I’ll be the first one in line to see it.
The last tale of fear is “Clipped Dirty Wings” by M.E. Palmer. Guess what happens when a down-on-his-luck gambler crosses paths with a female goddess forgotten by those who once worshipped her? It’s a new life, but not quite the chance he wished for.
Edited by Frank J. Hutton and released by Cutting Block Press, TATTERED SOULS seems a good place to discover future talents in the world of horror … provided they can overcome their, um, shortcomings. –Matt Adder
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