SHORTANDSWEET. AND SCARY.
05/14/2007
Narnia, Soren. Knifepoint Horror: Book One. New York: iUniverse, 2007. 297 p.
Horror fans who think that they have a firm grasp of the genre will reevaluate that assessment after experiencing Knifepoint Horror. This is a collection of short stories written in an experimental style following the “Dictates of Knifepoint Horror” listed at the conclusion of the book. These rules disallow some of the most basic structural and stylistic tenets of fiction. For instance, no paragraph breaks, no story titles, and no “standard exchanges of dialogue” are allowed. All stories are written solely in capital letters and presented as a diary entry or personal letter written by an individual who must unburden himself of the horrors that he has seen. There are no gratuitous subplots in any of the stories to detract from the flow. As promised, “Knifepoint strips away all the tired conventions which water down traditional horror fiction.” In short, the stories present horror and nothing else.
The nightmares that the storytellers see are in no way limited to a particular type of paranormal entity. These besieged narrators encounter such monsters as demons, restless spirits, the walking dead, otherworldly techno-horrors, and humans who have lost all touch with reality. They see witchcraft, necromancy, and things that simply defy explanation. Their stories vary in length, depth, and intensity, but are all very personal accounts of firsthand horror. Even the shortest tales are original and gripping. William Roydon, Sean Locksley, Wesley Harrod, Ethan Tyrell, Cy Wistrom, and the other tortured souls sharing their tales come from all walks of life and different time periods, but have one thing in common. They must try to put their unimaginable experiences with the supernatural world into words in an effort to free their souls.
William Roydon, a young filmmaker focusing his talents on wedding videos, is the narrator of Narnia’s first twisted tale. Born in the seemingly quaint town of Robin Song, Virginia, he had moved away at the age of twelve. However, he still had fond memories of the place and often visited his grandfather in the town. Prior to October of 2005, that pleasant Richmond suburb could have been considered “Anytown, U.S.A.” in young William’s mind. Naturally, when he comes across a newspaper advertisement for a secretive film project in Robin Song, he immediately seeks it out. Thanks to that decision, he meets the eccentric researcher Forsch Cording—and his opinion of his childhood home will never be the same.
Before giving William the assignment, Cording cites two prerequisites: first, that he sign a confidentiality agreement and second, that he not accept the position if what he experiences during the course of the project could negatively affect his feelings toward the town or the people in it. Undeterred by these foreboding signs, he agrees to lend his filmmaking skills to the mysterious stranger.
It is not long before William opens his eyes to the reality of Robin Song. Cording reminds him of the seedy story of Irwin Settle, a tale that William had heard as a young boy in the town. Settle had been an unusual and highly disturbed man who developed a deep hatred for his psychiatrist. He painted copious mannequins in the likeness of Dr. Steen and acted out murder fantasies on the ersatz psychiatrists. Settle finally snapped and murdered the real Dr. Steen and attempted to paint his house with the doctor’s blood. As a child, William and the neighborhood boys would dare each other to enter the abandoned house, but none would actually take that first step. The legend spread that, although the house would age, the interior would remain perfectly clean and untouched because no one would dare disturb it. Despite this violent piece of town history, William had never felt a sense of darkness in the town. Cording, on the other hand, knows about Robin Song’s evil undercurrent.
What William experiences from behind his video camera make The Blair Witch Project look like a family film. In the beginning, he hears mysterious folk singing in his audio track. Later, a mystifying path appears before their feet that does not exist in reality, but inexplicably leads them to Irwin Settle’s house. The two men also see an unnaturally pale, nearly lifeless young man sitting on a bench. What happens next, Cording does not want recorded. Finally, the events that take place in the home of William’s grandfather are enough to send the filmmaker out of the town permanently. Honestly, the only drawback to this story was that it came to a close. The tale was just too compelling to end so quickly.
Although the tales stick to the dictates of Knifepoint Horror, they are by no means bound to a certain storyline. In the diary of Wesley Harrod, a 19th Century congressman, the paranormal element is more direct and menacing. Harrod does not have the benefit of seeing the terror through the lens of a camera. While attending a seemingly harmless séance, as was common in the spiritualist period of the late 1800s, Congressman Harrod sees a woman he had known briefly in his past. Unfortunately, the vengeful spirit wants to eternally punish him for an inadvertent offense that he had made against her in life. Through the medium, the spirit gains a doorway into the world and puts her ominous mantra into action: “Harrod will see me forever.” For the remainder of his sighted days, he sees the mocking entity in his field of vision.
Cy Wistrom is a young man who had been an unlucky child in a cursed elementary school. Seacrest Elementary was plagued until its closure in 1978. During his time at the school, Cy witnessed the brutal slaughter of his teacher by an axe-wielding maniac. That, however, was only the beginning of the bizarre events. The body of a deceased former janitor was propped up in one of the school rooms. The cryptic message left on the chalkboard read simply, “to all this darkness.” There was clearly no end to the unspeakable darkness at Seacrest. Before its closure, the assistant principal had been found murdered, and a freak fire broke out on a day in which the alarm systems had been temporarily dismantled. Photographed from behind a glass door were two flame-engulfed children who were never identified, nor listed as missing. The fact of their existence is dubious. Cy’s writing is not a journal entry as some of the other stories. It is instead the honest and angry account of his experiences at the elementary school to silence the reporters and spectators who continually hound him for the gory details.
The other Knifepoint stories offer terror and supernatural thrill as well. Whether the confessors are active ghost hunters or unwitting civilians caught in the crossfire of real horror, they can never erase what they have seen. Despite their levels of experience with the paranormal, no one is safe and no one is immune. The unknown entities will take what they want in the end.
All in all, Narnia’s tales are powerful and offer unadulterated horror. Rather than confounding the stories, the book’s unorthodox style adds intensity. A reader could easily become hooked on this new subgenre and may only hope that a second book is forthcoming.