There’s a moment in the movie THE THING (the 1951 version): a blizzard has been raging throughout the night, and the people in the outpost suddenly realize they’re trapped with some unnamed horror. Even repeated viewings don’t diminish that chill.
Snowfall can be terrifying. Ask any of the characters in Greg Gifune’s Deep Night.
As always with Gifune’s work, the muscular prose gets a headlock on the reader almost at once. An evening of snowbound trauma permanently marks a group of friends, one of whom has suffered from night terrors all his life. (In a curious way, this gives him an advantage, because unreasoning fear constitutes a new experience for the others.) When they can’t bring themselves even to discuss the events of that night, demons track them down, one by one, an easy task since the group now carries a spiritual infection within them ... and demons of course thrive on this sort of thing.
Be warned. The level of creeping dread grows increasingly intense. This is a profoundly unsettling book, on many levels a philosophical consideration of the nature both of demons and of evil itself. Greg Gifune’s writing rarely offers conventional thrills. Nothing so obvious. Though enough visceral terror lurks in these pages to satiate even the most avid gore fan, the horrors at the heart of Deep Night are no less existential than those haunting A View from the Lake or The Bleeding Season, never mind the flashes of razor-sharp wit or the complex moral issues presented.
“Their eyes met as both men tried their best to quiet the echoes of screams bellowing in their minds – screams of relentless agony and terror – all the while ignoring the shadows growing along the walls and everything hidden within them.”
Strong stuff, but then Gifune’s work has never been for the weak hearted. Or the weak minded. He remains the thinking reader’s horror writer, and his fiction always evokes serious issues. For instance … what is insanity? What if it could be spread like a disease from mind to mind, plunging individuals into never-ending nightmares. And if reality is nothing more than consensus, what happens if all members of a group have gone mad?
Or have they? Maybe it’s all true. Demonic possession. Alien abduction. Everything people fear in the dark. Perhaps there are malevolent entities that exist between worlds, and perhaps some “gifted” individuals really can see them.
And be seen.
Imagine being trapped in an elevator with a madman: no escape… until the cable snaps. That experience is not unlike reading a novel by Greg F. Gifune. Deep Night offers all the joys (and metaphysical terrors) that his ever-growing number of fans have come to expect: three-dimensional characters so richly conceived as to be virtually unique within the genre, fascinating and natural dialogue (an especially high order of accomplishment considering the heightened unnaturalness of the situations), and the inexorable horror of a plotline constructed like a steel trap. Gifune has a way of demonstrating that nothing is as it seems, that anything might happen at any moment… and that the worst events imaginable are imminent.
The concept of deep evil, deep woods, deep night will haunt the reader for a very long time.