Bingo by Daegal strolls into the room like a storm front—quiet at first, then suddenly you’re knee-deep in the emotional flood and wondering how a book so short can hit this hard. It’s small-town Ohio storytelling at its finest: gritty, unvarnished, and humming with that eerie familiarity that only Midwestern secrets can generate. You know the type—church-basement potlucks on the surface, buried skeletons under the floorboards. At the center stands a boy saddled with a dog’s name, a detail that feels playful on the surface but lands like a punch. It sets the tone for the whole narrative—humor laced with hurt, innocence tangled with tragedy. And when the dominoes of family murders start falling, every page tightens the tension like a noose you can’t look away from. Daegal doesn’t dance around the darkness; he partners with it, spinning the reader through each chapter with a kind of no-nonsense swagger. The chief of police, dripping in moral conflict, becomes a case study in how power curdles when left unchecked. He’s the embodiment of “leadership misalignment” if we’re being corporate about it—an off-the-rails org chart in human form. But underneath the grit, the blood, the bad decisions, there’s an unexpected throughline of redemption. Three souls, knotted together by trauma, clawing their way back toward the light with the stubborn hope only people in forgotten towns can muster. It’s scrappy, it’s raw, and it doesn’t apologize for the mess. This book operates like a lean, mean emotional workflow—no filler, no padding. Every scene earns its keep. Every character arc hits its deliverables. And the final chapters? They drive home the ROI of forgiveness in a way that lingers long after you close the cover. If you’re looking for a story that blends noir darkness with Midwestern heart—and isn’t afraid to stare down the ugliest parts of humanity until they blink—you’ll find Bingo unforgettable. It’s haunting, grounded, and stubbornly hopeful, the literary equivalent of a rust-belt sunrise: harsh, beautiful, and earned.
Daegal's direct writing style is perfectly suited for this disturbing tale of horror. The story of Bingo unfolds slowly, giving readers ample opportunity to make assumptions about the characters and the direction of the narrative, only to discover they've been mislead by the author's creative storytelling technique. The dark ending came as a complete surprise to me, which I consider the hallmark of any great short story. Truth be told, I found it impossible to put this book down. I look forward to reading Daegal's future releases. Consider me a fan.
Daegal has a knack for giving you information in this story like a funnel. He pours a load of information at you that becomes more and more refined as the story progresses so that at the end of this piece it is a single drip. That single drip smacks you with a ferocious hit that makes you want to revisit again and enjoy it all over again. I have read it twice now and can not recommend it enough.
It is amazing how he can get so much story into such a short space. This novella reads like a full length novel.
I had the pleasure of hearing the author read snippets from this book about a year or so before it was published. Even having been alongside Daegal in his writing process, I was completely unprepared for the journey this story would take me on and even less prepared for its ending. Daegal peels back his characters like leaves from an artichoke, offering you the delicious tidbits of the meat of their lives. His prose is gripping and keeps you engaged from beginning to end. This story is one you won't want to miss!
A short but gripping novella of psychological horror and gruesome outcomes. If you like your protagonists to be deeply flawed and your antagonists to be uncomfortably sympathetic then give this one a spin. But be careful, this spiral vortex of fear and revulsion is hard to put down.