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Horrifica
Imagine a place as infinite as the mysteries of dreams, just out of sight, hidden in our nightmares and lurking in the shadows. It’s the place where all that’s creepy prowls, a midnight scream away, where darkness is sacred, and the glory of horror abounds. This is where you’ll find the trinity of fear, the misbegotten secrets that haunt our world.
The GROTESQUERIES are the freaks who rage against nature and order.
The MONSTROSITIES are the savage offspring of a blasphemous god.
The DEPRAVITIES are rarely glimpsed, their deeds so perverse they hide from even the dimmest glimmer of light.
Each reigning in a wasteland that worships the wicked above all else.
There is no map nor marker, for fear is no prisoner to the illusionary constraints of time and place. You can call it another dimension, or the nightmare realm; perhaps, it is the secret soul that dwells within you, hidden by the façade you wear every day.
Whatever distinction you choose, the macabre marvels of Horrifica haunt our world with their horror and fear, and you are about to enter the terror ahead.
The GROTESQUERIES are the freaks who rage against nature and order.
The MONSTROSITIES are the savage offspring of a blasphemous god.
The DEPRAVITIES are rarely glimpsed, their deeds so perverse they hide from even the dimmest glimmer of light.
Each reigning in a wasteland that worships the wicked above all else.
There is no map nor marker, for fear is no prisoner to the illusionary constraints of time and place. You can call it another dimension, or the nightmare realm; perhaps, it is the secret soul that dwells within you, hidden by the façade you wear every day.
Whatever distinction you choose, the macabre marvels of Horrifica haunt our world with their horror and fear, and you are about to enter the terror ahead.
284 pages, Kindle Edition
Published October 31, 2024
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
June 8, 2025
"Yes, my dear friend, I’m sure you’ve made the connection that’s been my secret for all these years. My stories don’t come from my own inner fears,
but from my mother’s mad ramblings and whispery rants."
Sheldon Woodbury. Sounds like a rich person in a noir film, doesn't it? A scriptwriter and former advertising agency suit, he writes a fatalistic and darker side of fantasy life, with thirty-one short stories that, mostly, would fit nicely into a 1950s horror comic. He traps them into three categories: Grotesqueries, Monstrosities, and Depravities. His characters are usually headed one way (downward), with few side trips along the way. There is no bright serendipity or goodwill for anyone found in these pages. Well, then again, the monsters do quite well, though. He keeps the terror very horrible indeed. Not gory, just terrible and very no way out, with endless ways to bury his victims, deep and dark, giving no inch or breath to escape.
Reading each story, you see his tight setups and ghoulish penchant for bad situations that fester into high mortality statistics as they wrap around his victims like butcher paper tucked snuggly around a steak. And then he tickles your eyes with some classically-tinted horror, which stands out for us growing old in the genre; Halloween, Jack Pierce (the maker of Universal’s monsters), eldritch abominations, hellscapes, revenge served hot, apocalyptic worlds, secret clubs and dark cityscapes, all are fair game for his macabre mindset.
From the things coming at the stroke of midnight for an errant preacher, the lonely woman who could just eat you to death, and the mom with a penchant for knives and revenge, Woodbury sticks to narratives with little, if any, dialog, and people who, whether on the receiving or giving end of it, strut and fret their hour on the page and then are heard no more (well, except for the screaming or last gasps).
Each tale has a few or fewer acts, (you could argue some Freytag’s Pyramid tossed in, maybe), that run mostly linear, driven by narratives providing excellent examples of the term short and sweet. He likes to keep it impersonal through third-person description with an occasional first person talking, but, without dialog, he conveys characters’ emotions through their responses and thoughts, with beats (those small amounts of action) shifting them toward his bleak endings. Woodbury is not one for a lot of description, but what he does choose to describe sets the mood perfectly for each story, as well as keeping the pacing brisk but not too fast. He wants you to savor each spilled red drop like a good single malt whiskey that’s sipped and not gulped.
In his Gift From the Stars, a young man writes a letter to Clark Ashton Smith, regarding his mother’s peculiar malady, and in The Last Horror Show, a bittersweet life in horror is drawn until the end, where we are left with the knowledge that “monsters should never be ignored.”
Just the thought of Woodbury mentioning authors like Clark Ashton Smith made this reviewer smile. I can imagine him opening a Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine in the dead of night or watching the black and white monster movies as well as the more colorful ones to hone his bad taste buds. Woodbury’s choice of subjects, and his styling, from story to story, as he switches gears to accommodate a bit of nostalgia in The Monster Maker or revealing why “real monsters are hard to kill” in The Last Halloween, draws inspiration from earlier horror fiction and pulpy terrors to frame his modern monstrosities. You can imagine these stories flickering on 1980s television horror shows.
So, if it’s monstrosities you like, there’s the mystery of Extinction, where what killed the dinosaurs is finally solved. Unfortunately. If you like depravities, perhaps Midnight Town will provide that beckoning side trip you’ve always wanted to take, after the sun goes down; just follow the “flicker in the desert” as you leave the city lights behind. Perhaps you like grotesqueries more. If so, just go Down Where Nightmares Dwell, but mind the basement steps. In Woodbury’s world, mothers can be hell as much as the monsters. And, if you like all three, well, he’s got you covered neck deep in Horrifica. Just take breaks to keep breathing and you’ll be fine. Maybe.
The Horror Zine Staff Book Reviewer, JM Cozzoli
but from my mother’s mad ramblings and whispery rants."
Sheldon Woodbury. Sounds like a rich person in a noir film, doesn't it? A scriptwriter and former advertising agency suit, he writes a fatalistic and darker side of fantasy life, with thirty-one short stories that, mostly, would fit nicely into a 1950s horror comic. He traps them into three categories: Grotesqueries, Monstrosities, and Depravities. His characters are usually headed one way (downward), with few side trips along the way. There is no bright serendipity or goodwill for anyone found in these pages. Well, then again, the monsters do quite well, though. He keeps the terror very horrible indeed. Not gory, just terrible and very no way out, with endless ways to bury his victims, deep and dark, giving no inch or breath to escape.
Reading each story, you see his tight setups and ghoulish penchant for bad situations that fester into high mortality statistics as they wrap around his victims like butcher paper tucked snuggly around a steak. And then he tickles your eyes with some classically-tinted horror, which stands out for us growing old in the genre; Halloween, Jack Pierce (the maker of Universal’s monsters), eldritch abominations, hellscapes, revenge served hot, apocalyptic worlds, secret clubs and dark cityscapes, all are fair game for his macabre mindset.
From the things coming at the stroke of midnight for an errant preacher, the lonely woman who could just eat you to death, and the mom with a penchant for knives and revenge, Woodbury sticks to narratives with little, if any, dialog, and people who, whether on the receiving or giving end of it, strut and fret their hour on the page and then are heard no more (well, except for the screaming or last gasps).
Each tale has a few or fewer acts, (you could argue some Freytag’s Pyramid tossed in, maybe), that run mostly linear, driven by narratives providing excellent examples of the term short and sweet. He likes to keep it impersonal through third-person description with an occasional first person talking, but, without dialog, he conveys characters’ emotions through their responses and thoughts, with beats (those small amounts of action) shifting them toward his bleak endings. Woodbury is not one for a lot of description, but what he does choose to describe sets the mood perfectly for each story, as well as keeping the pacing brisk but not too fast. He wants you to savor each spilled red drop like a good single malt whiskey that’s sipped and not gulped.
In his Gift From the Stars, a young man writes a letter to Clark Ashton Smith, regarding his mother’s peculiar malady, and in The Last Horror Show, a bittersweet life in horror is drawn until the end, where we are left with the knowledge that “monsters should never be ignored.”
Just the thought of Woodbury mentioning authors like Clark Ashton Smith made this reviewer smile. I can imagine him opening a Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine in the dead of night or watching the black and white monster movies as well as the more colorful ones to hone his bad taste buds. Woodbury’s choice of subjects, and his styling, from story to story, as he switches gears to accommodate a bit of nostalgia in The Monster Maker or revealing why “real monsters are hard to kill” in The Last Halloween, draws inspiration from earlier horror fiction and pulpy terrors to frame his modern monstrosities. You can imagine these stories flickering on 1980s television horror shows.
So, if it’s monstrosities you like, there’s the mystery of Extinction, where what killed the dinosaurs is finally solved. Unfortunately. If you like depravities, perhaps Midnight Town will provide that beckoning side trip you’ve always wanted to take, after the sun goes down; just follow the “flicker in the desert” as you leave the city lights behind. Perhaps you like grotesqueries more. If so, just go Down Where Nightmares Dwell, but mind the basement steps. In Woodbury’s world, mothers can be hell as much as the monsters. And, if you like all three, well, he’s got you covered neck deep in Horrifica. Just take breaks to keep breathing and you’ll be fine. Maybe.
The Horror Zine Staff Book Reviewer, JM Cozzoli
December 8, 2025
This is a superb collection that is wildly dark and moving at the same time. The introduction sets the mood perfectly. The collection is divided into three sections: the Grotesqueries “a gathering of the brutal and bizarre,” the Monstrosities “an offering of the shocking and strange,” and the Depravities “a collection of the wicked and wild.”
The Grotesqueries show human horrors, the ones that come from the inside. The things we try to hide, but get out anyway. The Monstrosities are the things made by... and from... others. And lastly, the Depravities is what those things do. The deeds that hide in the dark, waiting to be committed.
There are no bad stories. Each will take a small piece of your soul, leaving just enough for you to mourn what has been taken. Some will leave you disturbed. Some might even give you ideas (it will be up to you whether or not to act on them as others did). Several of the stories will bend your mind and imagination in ways you didn’t know it could bend.
The stories are refreshingly original. Not a new spin on something already done. And each time you believe. You see it in your mind’s eye. You feel the pull, the darkness, the heartbreak... just like the characters.
Some stories teach lessons while others just allow the damage to play out. Things that are broken just disintegrate completely. Nothing flourishes but the darkness in this collection. And it is beautiful! I am vague about the stories because you need each one together as a whole to understand the collection. I could praise specific ones but I think reading them on their own might diminish the whole. This collection is one to read straight through before you pick what to reread. And honestly, I think you’ll reread all of them.
The Grotesqueries show human horrors, the ones that come from the inside. The things we try to hide, but get out anyway. The Monstrosities are the things made by... and from... others. And lastly, the Depravities is what those things do. The deeds that hide in the dark, waiting to be committed.
There are no bad stories. Each will take a small piece of your soul, leaving just enough for you to mourn what has been taken. Some will leave you disturbed. Some might even give you ideas (it will be up to you whether or not to act on them as others did). Several of the stories will bend your mind and imagination in ways you didn’t know it could bend.
The stories are refreshingly original. Not a new spin on something already done. And each time you believe. You see it in your mind’s eye. You feel the pull, the darkness, the heartbreak... just like the characters.
Some stories teach lessons while others just allow the damage to play out. Things that are broken just disintegrate completely. Nothing flourishes but the darkness in this collection. And it is beautiful! I am vague about the stories because you need each one together as a whole to understand the collection. I could praise specific ones but I think reading them on their own might diminish the whole. This collection is one to read straight through before you pick what to reread. And honestly, I think you’ll reread all of them.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews