City Slab #11

Though City Slab only offers up four short stories in its latest issue, the quality and treatment of them is both well-handled and fulfilling. The magazine, now in its eleventh issue, bills its fiction as “urban tales of the grotesque.” No argument here. In fact, I’d say that’s the perfect description. The stories, ranging from bleak tales of losing one’s self to agonizing bouts of torment, deliver on the promise. There’s also a lot more to the horror zine, with loads of nonfiction, reviews, and wonderfully done black-and-white illustrations within.

If one thing can be said of “Poisoned Love” by Blaise Bienvenue, it’s that it has style. Luckily, as a reviewer, more can be said. In this heavily stream of consciousness tale of evil cats and bad relationships, an unemployed Dan finds meandering around an abandoned apartment therapeutic. He goes up there, plays in the trash, gathers porn mags, listens to the darkness, begins to lose his face. Or maybe not. Meanwhile, his girlfriend, Stella, continues to shift between the coldest ice queen this side of Alaska and a doe-eyed lover.

The narrative jumps from moment to moment, two different timelines running alongside one another, which works well for all the talk of demons in skulls and the like. The story isn’t presented as something solid, but rather something more eviscerated. Is Dan mad…or is the world? A few answers pop up at the end but nothing substantial. And that makes the story all the more chilling.

Juan has two jobs in “Doxology” by Ted Kosmatka. One is running a small convenience store that barely gets by, and the other is dealing out some kind of disguised illegal product for lumpy bags of cash. Only his latest customer, a fellow so large and looming that he can only be called Big Guy, is presenting a problem for Juan. He killed a friend of his and his creepiness factor is way beyond a ten. Plus, marital and family problems are blossoming in Juan’s home. Oh, and there’s voices. What’s a swindler already marked for Hell to do?

A quick search on the word doxology tells me it has something to do with a praising hymn to God. This really only makes sense in the final few sentences, when everything is revealed good and strong. Otherwise, Kosmatka balances bits of action with moments of introspection quite nicely.

The titular antagonist of “Caramula” by Hunter C. Eden is a mule-faced man on a mission. He goes around in taxis, searching for a woman good enough to give him a son, paying whatever it costs. Unfortunately, he’s infertile. But he always gets rides. If refused, he snaps the driver’s neck. It isn’t long before Miguel, a taxista, after hearing the numerous stories surrounding the legendary monster, ends up picking up Caramula outside the Plaza Cardenas. The muleman is asking for a ride to a putero. Miguel decides that driving him around has to be better than dying, but the thought doesn’t help calm his nerves.

There’s a lot to like about “Caramula,” but there’s also a problem with it. Miguel, at first, is calm and calculating, but once Caramula gets to him, he turns out to be nothing more than a greedy, sadistic sicko. The muleman wanted a woman, and Miguel knew exactly who to give him. Other than that, the most enthralling aspect of the story deals with how Caramula came to be and why he does what he does. The writing is interesting enough to keep the pace going, but I just couldn’t find myself liking anyone within. This is the only piece in this issue that didn’t work out so satisfyingly.

“The Mathematician’s Desire” by J.T. Glover proves something I’ve always suspected, that protractors can be deadly. Ardelia is using her measuring tool to keep the door to her dorm room sealed tight. Why? Something wicked is desperately trying to get in. See, as a struggling student studying mathematics, Ardelia turned to stripping as a means to pay the bills. It was during her time as the sensuous “White Tiger” that she met Udo Junger, a man that claimed she could be so much more than a dancer.

Glover’s story of betrayal and the dark arts gives off a Dresden Files feel, but with a lot more coercion to it. Ardelia is a strong, determined woman with a hint of sass to her, which makes the verbal battle between her and Junger quite entertaining. The worldbuilding is minimal, but a strong sense is still given for the strip club, Junger’s hospice, and Ardelia’s sealed bedroom. This helps keep the tension level high, and high it should be when there’s an evil warlock-of-sorts man trying to bust in. The ending, much like a protractor, brings everything full circle and closes with a bang. Well-recommended, “The Mathematician’s Desire” is the best of the issue.