Tag Archives: Serial Killers

The Angel of Vengeance (A Glimpse Into Hell) by Wade H. Garrett

I had to think long and hard about writing a review for The Angel of Vengeance (A Glimpse Into Hell) by Wade H. Garret.  If I was writing this review uncensored, I would state that it has some very good parts and some very bad parts and while I wouldn’t go into heavy detail I would tell my readers what they have to be aware of if they’re interested in reading this book.  The author has a one page disclaimer about the book, and for a good reason.  The thing is, I almost didn’t want to take a chance on writing an uncensored review because the author’s disclaimer essentially says “This book is graphic, gory, upsetting, politically incorrect, and offensive.  Don’t read if you’re sensitive.”  Eh, I’ve read worse.  The sticking point for me was that also in his disclaimer, he talked about receiving negative reviews for the book and responding to the reviewer.  Granted, the response was probably the most well-handled “Well, I like my writing so whatever” I’ve read in some time.  Still, reviews are not meant to stroke an author’s ego or keep the book high in the ratings (for example, on Amazon where I rented this book as a Kindle Unlimited, keeping the average rating of the book between four and five stars).  When I review a book, I may very well sing its praises.  More often than not, I’m critical of the book.  That doesn’t mean I didn’t like the book, but it means that I’ve read the book, I’ve thought about the book, and finally I want to share both the good and the bad of the book for other readers.  It’s intimidating to read in an author’s disclaimer that they know what content is in their book and if it upsets you, well, you knew what you were getting into.  In the end, I am going to review The Angel of Vengeance (A Glimpse Into Hell) because I have thoughts on the book and I want to share them with my readers.

The Angel of Vengeance takes place in a basement torture chamber, predominantly as a long, extremely graphic conversation between the anti-hero character Seth Coker and a man named “Richard”, “Dicky” for short.  Here’s what you need to know:  The conversation is part conversation between Seth and Dicky and part of a way to flash back to all of Seth’s handiwork, some that is lying around the basement in various locations.  The conversation is broken down into stories that span two to three chapters followed by Seth showing Dicky what the bodies of his corpses look like in the present day.  Seth is one of those characters that you will be conflicted on because he is a vigilante, he is not a good guy, his sanity is probably shot, and yes, he loves torturing people…but he has a sense of justice about it.  Whenever Dicky asks Seth why he enjoys torture, Seth says that he’s doing it to bring justice to the victims of his victims.  The way Seth views the criminal justice system is that it’s broken and doesn’t punish the people that need punishment the most, so he comes in to set things “right”.

I did have a segment of chapters that I completely understood Seth’s sense of justice, twisted as it was.  “The Shattered Reflection of the Crescent Moon” “Human Octopus” and “The Gruesome Torture Device” tell the story of three men that, among other things, tortured and killed fifty-three shelter animals for no reason.  Oddly, the paragraph in “The Shattered Reflection of the Crescent Moon” specifically about the shelter animal torture doesn’t go into the same graphic detail that goes into Seth’s methods of vengeance.  It’s still extremely stomach-turning if you’re an animal lover and you don’t like reading about animal torture.  The thing is that if animal torture makes your blood boil, you probably feel like anyone who tortures animals deserves to be tortured the same way themselves so they know how it feels.  Maybe you even support Seth in these three chapters.  In real life when I have a clear head I would never say “Torture the animal-torturers worse than what they did, but in reading these chapters I felt that primal sense of “Kill!  Kill!  Kill!”

People who have a cause that’s near and dear to their heart will probably have a similar reaction to myself.  If you are anti-elder neglect or you’re anti-violence against women or you’re anti-child abuse, you might also find some segments where you support Seth’s brand of justice.

Although I did have three pet chapters (no pun intended) that I got into, I found myself wondering where Seth believed it was his duty to humanity to right every criminal justice system wrong through torture.  Of course if we believe Seth’s account, it’s that victims of violent acts shouldn’t suffer without getting some kind of peace and since he’s capable of it, that’s his life’s work.  That said, Seth is extreme in handing out justice and sometimes he has no connections to the people’s he’s helping/”helping”.  There’s a plot twist in the final few chapters where readers learn why “Dicky” is Seth’s latest victim and there is minor justification.  I won’t spoil it because it’s worth reading for.  More often than not, it feels a lot like Seth tortures people for the fun of it and uses “I’m correcting injustices” as a way to shield his twisted hobby.  It’s hard for me to get into Seth’s mindset.  I don’t know that anyone can.

After reading The Angel of Vengeance, I had some final thoughts for potential readers.  First, you absolutely need to take the author’s disclaimer seriously.  This is not extreme horror like you’d get from Edward Lee (which I’ve read a few works from and will tell you that the version of extreme horror by Mr. Lee is more ridiculous than thought-provoking and hard to handle).  There is nothing supernatural about this book.  There is not a sense of “This part is gory but you’re supposed to find it laughable” with this book.  There is some very dark humor in this book and if you read the reviews on Amazon, people have appreciated it.  The humor is more about the weird exchanges between Seth and Dicky than, say, slapstick.  Definitely keep in mind that this is not light reading.  Second, if you are a book reviewer, don’t be afraid to write an honest review.  This book challenged me, not because it had large vocabulary words but because enjoying it or appreciating it or being completely turned off was a moral dilemma.  In the end I had to write a review of it and express why I was so challenged by it.

Consumed by Matt Shaw

I love a good cannibal serial killer novel.  You’d be surprised to learn that although I’m not a “gore hound” and in fact would rather read supernatural or psychological thriller novels, there is something I crave about a good cannibal serial killer horror novel.  It kills me to admit that in spite of having the potential for a delicious cannibal serial killer novel, I did not love Consumed by author Matt Shaw.  This is the best way I can describe Consumed:  It was disturbing as promised, but not disturbing in the way I like my cannibal serial killer novels disturbing.

The plot is pretty standard.  Five twenty-somethings who were once good friends but are beginning to fall apart go on a road trip in hopes of rebuilding their friendship.  The main character is Michael, an aimless, hard-headed person.  Michael’s best friend is Joel, an auto mechanic (oh, the irony!) who would smoke his life away if he could.  Lara is a sharp-tongued woman who had once dated Joel and still feels the burn of their break-up.  Hayley is a beauty queen who is so consumed (pun not intended but rock with it) with how she compares to other women that she doesn’t notice larger issues.  Charlotte is a sweetheart who should not even be a part of the group and is viewed as a little sister that needs protected from the real world.  Dan is just there, not someone who had a role other than being the first to die.  The road trip doesn’t start off well with Lara and Joel bickering and continues to get worse when the car breaks down and they are rescued by two twenty-something brothers Johnny and Stephen who take them to the family house for a meal.  Little do the five friends know that they’re the main course.

There are scenes of cannibalism in the novel, which I appreciated since that was why I wanted to read this book in the first place.  Descriptions of a young woman eating a man during intercourse is sick and twisted, just the way I want my cannibal serial killer novels.  What, I can’t enjoy a little bit of gore?  In addition, there were entire pages dedicated to how some of the characters were sliced and diced.  If you like details rather than fade-to-black sequences, Consumed is your book.  Maybe.

How do you feel about incest?  How do I put this without requiring a trigger warning?  To put it bluntly, there is a lot of incest.  None of it is fade-to-black either.  It’s not as frequent or physically sickening as scenes in another extreme horror novel Dead to Writes (April Almighty Book One), the novel that I hold up as the sickest extreme horror novel I’ve read to date, but reading the descriptions of father-on-daughter violence feels voyeuristic and wrong.   The problem with Consumed is that it should be the cannibalism that turns your stomach but in fact the incest is (I’m guessing) the reason this novel is considered extreme horror.  I’ll ask you again, how do you feel about incest?  Do you believe incest can carry a horror novel from beginning to end?  Do you believe that incest is a ploy to make the villainous characters more sympathetic, even if there’s nothing else about them that is sympathetic?  This may just be a personal concern, but I don’t think the way incest was written in Consumed was well-handled.  Conventional wisdom says that you aren’t supposed to root for the villainous characters at any point of the novel.  It was hard trying to negotiate the conventional wisdom with what the daughters suffered from their entire lives.  Suzanne and Tammy, the daughters, are almost as into cannibalism as their parents.  As readers, we shouldn’t like them.  When they are raped by their father, we still don’t like them but we see them as victims and it’s just weird.  Consumed would’ve been a stronger novella if the author left out the incest and just let us hate the family.

I have a lot of thoughts on Consumed, but I think author Matt Shaw’s author note placed right before the story says much more than I could say.  Apparently  Consumed isn’t even Matt Shaw’s normal style of writing.  He had been receiving feedback from readers about them wanting some serious gore and rocked with it.  His attempt with Consumed satisfied the extreme horror fans enough that the majority of ratings for the novella were overwhelmingly positive, but I’m not okay with it.  I like Matt Shaw’s writing when it’s psychological (ex: Clown) or supernatural (ex: The Cabin and The Cabin: Asylum).  I would normally recommend Matt Shaw.  I will probably recommend some of his future works once I get ahold of them.  I do not recommend Consumed.

Family Night by Tim Miller

First of all, I would like to give credit to Tim Miller for being versatile in his level of grossness and good taste or lack of and not always writing novels that are extreme body horror.  While I felt uncomfortable reading his newer novel Dead to Writes (April Almighty) I didn’t have the same squeamish feeling reading Family Night, an earlier novel.  Second of all, to get to the meat of my review, I honestly didn’t love Family Night even though it had the kind of plot that would usually make me fall in love with a horror novel.

I can’t help but continually compare Family Night to Dead to Writes and unfortunately Family Night is the weaker of Tim Miller’s cannibal serial killer novels.  You’ll have to excuse the fact that I make these comparisons in the following review, especially since I try to avoid doing this because I hate it when other reviewers do it, but here I think it’s the only way to write a complete review.  Family Night and Dead to Writes are so eerily similar in that both novels feature families of cannibal serial killers that I wondered if Family Night was a precursor of Dead to Writes and Miller is going to introduce us to an entire extended family of torture-friendly serial killer cannibals.  That’s not exactly correct, but I feel safe in saying that Miller’s shtick is writing about cannibal serial killers.  In Family Night there is a man, Eddie Mason, who is a Texas cannibal serial killer.  Apparently he’s one of the worst, having made kills of over fifty people.  The police are boggled by how he does it because he’s only one man, right?  Yes, Eddie is only one man.  This isn’t one of those “evil twin” novels.  He’s able to produce such a high body count because his two children Brandi and Jeffrey are apprentices in the art of killing.  Not to get too opinionated in a plot summary, but I would’ve loved to read more about the offspring, such as how exactly they were trained.   Miller tells us that Eddie started the killing trade like any other serial killer, first experimenting with animals and then moving to humans.  Once he got successful in making his kills, he named himself The Mask.  We don’t know how Brandi and Jeffrey were first talked into making kills and how it became so important to them  The only substantial thing we know about the children is that from their training they’ve come to believe that law enforcement officers are pests that need exterminated.

The thing that attracted me to Family Night was the novel’s official synopsis.  I wouldn’t necessarily say that it’s inaccurate, but it gives the wrong impression of who’s important in the novel.  We don’t have an official hero character that survives to the end.  At first I thought it would be Julie Castillo, the not-a-homicide detective investigating the disappearance of a woman working at a strip club that then tangles with Eddie Mason and his crazy offspring.  She would’ve been the most logical choice.  When the longest-lasting survivor was Sarah Howard, Julie’s girlfriend who worked at a bar and grill, I had mixed thoughts on that.  The irony of a grill employee killing a cannibal serial killer is amusing to me, but not so much that I can’t find it a questionable plot twist.  Now, I’m not trying to say that Sarah can’t be strong in her own right, but I would think that as a detective Julie would have more strength and skill at dealing with serial killers than Sarah would.  The “hero” of the novel, then, is Officer Ray Smith, who is only significant as the one that discovers the crime scene.  In the end, Ray Smith kills himself because the events of “The Mask”/”The Alamo Cannibal” (a later nickname for Eddie Mason).  In short, this is a novel where rocks fall and everyone dies in a figurative sense.  I’m not sure I like this very much.  I’m all for bleak endings provided that the novel has led up to such an ending, but in Family Night it seems more like “So what was the point of this novel?”  I didn’t exactly love Dead to Writes, Tim Miller’s latest cannibal serial killer(s) novel, but the one thing it did so much better than Family Night is end with surviving characters and a point to finish the novel and then keep reading the series.

I’m wondering how I would recommend or not recommend Family Nights based on its own merits.  Since I’m personally interested in reading fiction about children/teen serial killers, I would say that it might appeal to myself and others for having enough of that quality throughout the novel to make it interesting.  It’s just that like I said earlier, I would’ve wanted more information about the offspring’s killer training to make it meet that criteria.  Keep this warning in mind if you, like me, want the young serial-killers-in-training to be front and center.  Readers that like sad or bleak endings are probably a better audience, to be honest.

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