A WHISPER IN THE DARK

A small Texas town becomes the backdrop for a Stephen King–like grotesque that bonds with its hapless hosts.

Young Sam Parker has got a lot on his plate. He’s new in town, and his sister, ever since she started high school, doesn’t seem to be interested in hanging out and hunting creepy crawlies in the woods with him the way she used to. There’s also a school bully so mean he steals Sam’s headphones and tosses them into a tree and goes out of his way to scrawl “LOSER” on his forehead in permanent marker. A kindly widower named Ben, who lives across the street, not only sticks up for Sam, he kind of likes hunting for critters, too. Sadly for all involved, Ben is hiding a dark secret—and that secret has a name. His late wife, Mary, called it “Princess.” But exactly who or what Princess is and the reason she won’t leave poor Ben alone is held in careful abeyance until Devecchi is good and ready to reveal this particular monstrosity. The author does a masterful job of crafting a dreadful aura around Princess as she quietly lulls the reader into an almost trance-like state with the banality of Sam’s pint-sized problems. The tonal shift from Sam’s Mayberry-ish narrative to the gruesome reality of Princess’ world and her relationship to Ben is incredibly jarring and off-putting. But that’s clearly part of Devecchi’s devilish intent. The idea of Princess slithering It-like inside the unsuspecting town’s storm sewers is creepy enough (“I am alone. I have no friends. I am afraid,” the creature coos), but when the author finally sets her free in the full light of day the experience is truly terrifying. Devecchi’s languid narrative also successfully marries the innocence of youth with the regret and longing of aging; the result evokes a kind of horror that’s just as upsetting as Princess’ insatiable hunger for human flesh and human connection.

The best kind of monster yarn—it sneaks up on you.