Welcome to Week 142 of my horror short fiction review project! While “The Orthometrists of Vhoorl” by Peter Rawlik was wacky and fun and over-the-top–translation: I really liked it–my favorite story of the week was “Teeth” by Matt Cardin, which is full of dark implications and a great example of existential horror.
To Rouse Leviathan, by Matt Cardin (Hippocampus Press, 2019)
“Teeth” by Matt Cardin
Jason (our narrator) is a philosophy graduate student who is brought to the brink of madness—and perhaps beyond—by his friend Marco, who is an extremely gifted young man who has perhaps learned more about the nature of reality than is healthy. Marco has compiled a notebook of Schopenhauer and Nietzsche quotations but then progresses from there to a hand-drawn mandala that opens the viewer’s mind to a vast abyss filled with an infinity of gnashing teeth that will destroy reality by grinding it down and passing it into a gullet of annihilation. The revelation underlying all of this is that reality itself is evil as we would understand it. There are implications that Marco has been compelled by some outside force, or brought to these realizations, and also some hints that the Cthulhu Mythos may be real, and connected to this abyss as well, though that could just be a lens through which Marco perceives things. Marco ends up killing a professor (savagely), and is placed in an asylum. Jason’s life is functionally over as well, since he comes to dread his own existence, knowing what awaits him (and everyone and everything else). Long and very evocative—this is a wonderful example of Lovecraftian cosmic horror in a postmodern age.
The Madness of Dr. Caligari, edited by Joseph S. Pulver, Sr. (Fedogan & Bremer, 2016)
“The Projection Booth” by Nathan Carson
A former theater projectionist tells the story of how he ended up in an insane asylum, where he has lived for the past twenty-seven years. As a young man, he did a lot of drugs one night at the theater and describes meeting an old German doctor (Caligari, most likely) there, before driving the old man back to the asylum, where he crashed his car. There’s a strong implication that he is an unreliable narrator, and probably murdered his girlfriend that night. The man’s current doctor at the asylum is a woman named Caligari. Interesting, but not profound.
A Mythos Grimmly, edited by Jeremy Hochhalter (Wanderer’s Haven Publications, 2015)
“The Orthometrists of Vhoorl” by Peter Rawlik
A really strong Randolph Carter story (HPL’s iconic protagonist). At the outset of the tale Carter’s consciousness inhabits the body of a deceased alien mystic on another world very far in the past. He lives with two alien races that live in a kind of symbiosis; they have managed to capture a minute fragment of the insane deity Azathoth and are debating what to do about it. Carter attempts to counsel them in caution by sharing a version of the Goldilocks and the three bears story with them, but they draw all the wrong lessons from that story (a nice lesson in alien psychology here). They end up integrating their entire species with the Azathoth fragment, which effectively destroys them both and leads to the creation of the Vorlon species (from Babylon Five!) as well as the creation of the mutually antagonistic Cthulhu(!) and Hastur(!). Fascinating and went in entirely unexpected directions. It’s a little wacky, but if you’re able ton roll with it, it’s a fascinating exploration of some truly alien species.
Degrees of Fear and Others, by C.J. Henderson (Dark Quest, 2011)
“That’s the One!”
Just two pages and unfortunately kind of incoherent. It begins with Alice—of Alice in Wonderland fame—actually being reluctant to drink the size-changing potion and being forced to do so by men who essentially make her continue her journey as a fictional heroine. Then we pick up with a man who doesn’t really want to kill himself, but cops burst into his home. I had thought there was an attempt to break the fourth wall or something similar, but I’m not so sure. I don’t understand what Henderson was trying to convey with this one.