[4.5 rounded up to 5]
I am going to be honest, when I first started this book, I didn't think I'd enjoy it as much as I ended up enjoying it. I had never heard of this book. Plus, while I love horror, I haven't read much in this genre, and so, I wasn't sure what I was in for. Not just that, I have been exposed to so much horror in film form, I'm basically jaded at this point. Nothing could surprise me, I was sure of it.
Like every anthology, this one was, initially, a mixed bag. There were some that weren't quite scary. There were others that, honestly, I simply did not understand.
But the book shines for two reasons. Firstly, I hadn't considered how much nuance queerness would add to a horror story. Ordinary, tried and tested horror tales seemed suddenly more alive, newer, under a (rude, almost evil) queer lens.
It really helps that none of the queer folks in these stories have the obligation to be "good." In fact, that the writers write about "bad" or "evil" queers was a prerequisite for this anthology. This elevated the stories, above gender, above basic fear of the supernatural, to something more sinister in its queerness. Something about the way the manipulation and the experience of fear is written in these stories felt so very queer. It's almost like the book recognised something intrinsically evil in human beings and how queer people just see it a lot more often, how the queer world sometimes becomes a breeding ground for these kinds of fears and violences.
Secondly, I have to mention two stories that are so strong, they retroactively make the entire book make sense. One is Stage Five Clinger by Nikki R. Leigh. The story is told my a hip (yup, the body part) of a woman who is asleep. This is the first story in the book where I actually got scared. I had to put my Kindle away and take a break from the book for 3 days. The desperation for love, the desperation to be seen by someone who will do nothing but consume you whole worked so smoothly with the horror element, I was honestly very, very uncomfortable by the end.
The second story is Crumbs by Joshua R. Pangborn. This one is a story about abuse. It has layers, so many layers. And it's terrifying. What makes this one work is its simple premise: a sex act goes terribly, terribly wrong. Gosh, human beings can be so cruel.
Honorable mentions have to go to We Frolic Within the Leviathan's Heart by Mae Murray (fun, catches you off guard), Three for a Funeral by K.S. Walker (again, fun, catches you off guard), Therianthrope by Briar Ripley Page (actually unnerving in it's depiction of being an outcast) and Macramé Flames by Eric Raglin (so very interesting, so satisfying to the hearts of all queers who have suffered in the hands of capitalist anti-queer campaigns).
Having said all this, I must say, over and over again: please, please, do not take the content warnings lightly. This is a book that really captures what it's like to live as a queer person in the world of manipulation, hatred, and abuse metted out from outside the queer world, sure, but more so from within the community. It's a hard pill to swallow. And it's scary because the evil and violence feels so specific to the queer world that only people within the world can see how intrinsic, all pervasive these violences are.
Content Warnings (seriously!) : Abuse (mental, physical, and sexual), Death, Creepy-Crawlies, Terrifying Imagery associated with attachment, suffocation, abandonment, and losing your way.