I only knew that I was drowning. By the time I realized what was happening to me, I was already fully submerged in treacherous ocean water, riding the current. And no matter how hard I kicked back at the rolling tide, I seemed no closer to its surface. I was tossed and battered and crushed by every folding wave, my body a knot, tangled, in every direction. I opened my mouth to scream, an involuntary compulsion brought on by fear, but water forced the words back down my throat. It was cold and dark and the only end in sight was my own.
I had a lot of driving the other day, and as it was the day before Halloween, I decided to listen to a horror novel on audiobook. I chose Twelve Residents Dreaming because it fit the bill, and although I later learned that this is the seventh and final volume in author William Pauley III’s “Bedlam Bible” (an author and series I haven’t read before), it totally stands on its own. In brief: Anacoy Marlin finds himself shipwrecked, and just as he is about to succumb to drowning, he discovers a raft that brings him to a mysterious skyscraper in the middle of the “bell dark sea”. There, he finds the remains of twelve former residents of the building, and as he accesses their memories (or are they dreams?), the reader is treated to twelve weird and horrific short stories. There is a huge range of fantastical experiences described — smouldering children and poisoned blood and a mental time machine — and throughout, it’s the building itself (known as the Eighth Block) that poses the greatest danger to hapless visitors. This was perfectly suited to my needs for the day, so I don’t want to pick apart the writing (beyond noting frequent use of cliches; every noun has an adjective, every action is described adverbly), and will simply say that this was dark and inventive and I was never bored. (Note: I listened to an audio ARC through NetGalley and needed to transcribe my quotes; apologies for mistakes, they are meant for flavour only.)
This is madness. Pure madness, I thought. Then unconsciously gripped one of the skulls at its eye sockets as one would do with, say, a bowling ball, and as soon as my fingers slid inside, a barrage of bright images flickered in my thoughts. Telepathic messages straight from the hollowness of the skull. The quick flashes of light startled me, causing my hand to retract and the light to instantly fade. Was this dead relic communicating with me? Nonsense, I thought. But despite thinking it to be nonsense, I once again pushed my fingers as far back into the sockets as they’d go. The flashes of light returned, but that time I was able to make out clear images inside my head, as if they were flickering onto the wall of my closed eyelids. They were displays of memories, or perhaps dreams, I hardly knew the difference. And each skull had its own story to tell.
I did like the way that there’s a progression of flooding in the stories: Early stories mention torrential rainstorms in the city’s south side, and then localised flooding around the Eighth Block, rain pouring inside the windows, until whole floors are flooded; something leads to this building standing alone in that bell dark sea (I really did like that phrase). I also liked the way that stories sometimes intertwined (especially that of the tattooed man, the mysterious blue flowers, hallways full of salt, and the discovery of the camera). These stories aren’t super spooky, but they have a definite Twilight Zone vibe, and as a collection, they compose an epic tale across time and space. I’m glad I chose this collection to fill my hours and I am grateful for the early access.
A note on the audiobook experience: I see that a lot of reviewers on Goodreads especially liked Connor Brannigan's narration — with so many different characters telling their stories (the shipwrecked man, the twelve residents and the people they interacted with in their tales) Brannigan probably needed to come up with over thirty unique voices, and while I agree that that takes a lot of skill, some of the voices were distractingly not like real and natural voices (gravelly or breathy or high pitched) and that was...distracting.
