Vera Harlow is a survivor. After a chance encounter led to her being held captive in a disgusting house of horrors, she fought tooth and nail to escape the clutches of a man known only as The Slob. But while she may have fled the disastrous situation, the details of her struggle are now carved into her flesh and soul.
Vera’s son is the product of utter depravity. Harold, the sinister seed left by the man who took everything from her, continues to blossom in nauseating fashion. His features and habits are stomach-churning, vividly familiar, and becoming more disturbing by the day. Determined to coax out the bright side of her child that she sees an occasional glimpse of, Vera strives for normalcy. But will the faint light she’s chasing shine through the darkness or will she be left cleaning up another gruesome mess?
The sequel to Aron Beauregard’s Splatterpunk Award-Nominated work of depravity, “The Slob,” will bring you back to the forefront of filth and carnage with a new, unique, and terrifying trajectory.
WARNING: This book contains graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.
By the end of last year or the beginning of this one, I discovered Aron Beauregard. His stories were very extreme, but really good, and I knew there was something special about his writing. Then I read The Slob, and it blew my fragile and sensitive, ever-loving mind to pieces. Not only was it one of the sickest stories I have ever read, but it was the absolute best extreme story I have ever read.
In my review, I mentioned that it will be the story which sets the bar for extreme stories from then on.
That was a mistake, though, because I became overly critical when I compared other stories to it—even stories by Beauregard himself. So, scratch that thought, just remember it sits at the top of my imaginary mantel for the genre.
And then I heard it was nominated for a Splatterpunk Award which is not only well-deserved validation for the work, but also pretty damn impressive if you consider it is a self-published book.
The question I had to ask myself before I read Son of The Slob was: Can I give this piece of fiction a fair go? Can I get past the fact that a sequel is never as good as the original? Can I judge it on merit as a stand-alone book? Can I remember to get hemorrhoid cream and toilet paper tomorrow?
Okay, so my mind tends to drift a little at times.
The answer, I am sad to say, is NO! If I don’t make a shopping list, I never remember shit or, in this case, things related to shit. Also, it will not be possible to separate it from the original story, so I am not allowed to tell you “It is not as good as…” —nothing is and I doubt ever will be, because I didn’t expect such a powerful story, which was part of the magic.
Ergo, I will review this story without telling you how good it is.
Beauregard has tapped into the psychology of his main characters and he writes it well, because he makes it believable. Right from the start of this story, something popped out at me—this is probably much closer to the truth than the Hollywood fluff would like you to believe.
WARNING: If you have not read The Slob, this review will reveal a lot about how that story ended. Please read it first, to allow yourself the full macabre journey it takes you on, before you read any further.
Back to the Hollywood fluff: The movies would like you to believe that somebody fights for their life and survive the ordeal, and everything is la-tee-da and butterfly kisses from there on.
I call BULLSHIT!
Surviving is just the beginning of the nightmare their lives are to become from there on. The psychological damage that is done will probably take many, many years to even cope with, never mind overcome. Support structures will crumble and that person will never be the same child/friend/lover, probably lacking the very personality traits which drew others to them. Most marriages will not survive and most friends will not be able to handle the severe personality shifts.
And when Son of The Slob starts, we are eight years after the initial story. Vera, the one who was so totally obsessed with cleanliness, lives in a house that is a mess after years of neglect—even the rats are comfortable in these surroundings.
Throughout the story, this messy house with all the trash and dirt, will create an atmosphere so heavy it will become like another character to most readers. The picture you create in your mind will probably disgust you way before you get to the really disgusting stuff that happens as the story progresses.
Vera is not sharing her bed with her husband Daniel anymore. In fact, they rarely even talk, even though they still live in the same house. He can’t get over the trauma of having lost his own unborn child because of the disgusting deeds The Slob did to his wife. And he can’t forgive Vera for keeping the son of The Slob.
Harold is mentally retarded and mostly unable to understand or communicate with most other people. This makes him so vulnerable to so many bad things. Even though Vera loves him and wants to see the good in him, how far will this apple fall from the tree? Or, will it be the sins of the father type of story?
Aron sent me a message before I read this one, telling me this might be his sickest story yet. After reading it, I have to agree that it matches The Slob, at the very least, when it comes to depravity. But it will be for different reasons than you expect, because he didn’t try to rewrite The Slob at all. This story is unique and—well played, sir—probably the cleverest story he has written to date.
That ending…can only come from the mind of an intelligent, sick bastard!
Mort Stone lives in untamed Africa, where he rides his lion to work every morning to slave away as a scientist who learned how to fake competency.
Reading is his passion…well, the one he can admit to, anyway. As an aggressive pacifist, he chooses to fight vicariously through stories which can bring him no physical harm.
While he is almost confidant that his IQ is in the top 50%, his wife regularly reminds him of all the stupid things he does. He will neither admit nor deny the accusations of sarcasm, but he can act like he cares. Most of the time.
As an avid reader of horror and thrillers, and somewhat of a movie buff in those genres, he still blames his insomnia on Global Warming. Because he can.
He would also like to apologize in advance for any swear words which might slip through…he will blame that on the insomnia.
Curation Results: Son Of The Slob
Curator Notes: "A disgustingly great sequel to add to the legacy of Beauregard's The Slob." —Deathdealer
This title has been officially certified by indiemuse reviewers and curators as a recommended read. Read about our certification process here.
This author has an official profile and author account at IndieMuse.
This title has received a minimum of 3.5 stars as a rating.
This title has received an overall majority approval from our curators.
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