Trog by Zachary Ashford

Publication Date: March 11, 2025 | Unnvering | 104 pages

Note: This review was originally published at FanFiAddict.com on February 14, 2025.

Sometimes you just want some fun, good, old-fashioned monster mayhem chockfull of gore and dismemberment. Enter Trog, by Zachary Ashford, a bit of Aussie B-movie schlock in print form from Unnerving Books, a release that would have been right at home in their now-defunct line of yesteryear-tribute Rewind-or-Die novellas.

Fifteen-year-old Aisha and her family have only just moved into their new and deeply secluded home in the outback when they find themselves under assault by a trio of masked maniacs. As if that weren’t enough, there’s all these strange noises coming from below the house, deep beneath a hidden hatchway that leads into an underground cavern. What else are a bunch of thrill killers to do but investigate and make whatever’s left of everybody’s now much-too-short lives an even bigger hell as they unwittingly let a captured beast loose?

Ashford wastes no time in laying waste to, well, everything. We get a brief set-up involving Trog’s capture and confinement to kick things off, and then it’s off to the races for roughly a hundred pages of gnarly violence and bloody slaughter. The premise is streamlined-simple: take The Strangers, mix in some family dynamics, add in a hungry, hungry cryptid, and presto-chango, Trog.

Viewers of The Strangers will recall the chilling reason for that flick’s psychos terrorizing a young couple as “Because you were home.” Ashford covers similar ground with his thrill killers here, who insist their motives boil down to little more than sheer enjoyment. It’s a way for them to cut loose and party hearty, with their de facto leader explaining to his captive audience, “I want to kill you because it’s fun. This isn’t a political statement. It’s entertainment.”

We eventually learn, of course, that this isn’t quite 100% true, but for the vast majority of Trog it’s easy enough to accept this as a mission statement for both the killers and the book itself. In fact, given recent political turmoils on- and offline, the lack of deep, in-your-face politicization in Trog makes for a welcome, and occasionally cathartic, just-in-time escape from the real-world and its multiplying crises. Still, Ashford subtly weaves in a commentary on naturalism versus capitalism and the war between the haves and have-nots, not to mention those caught in the middle. Trog himself is a monster transformed against his will by another’s pursuit of financial excess, and who finds himself torn by memories of a more natural and peaceful existence against his now-insatiable hunger for human flesh. In the end, money makes destructive, and self-destructive, monsters of us all, even moldy Aussie offshoots of Bigfoot.

Granted, for every moment of potential deep reflection, there’s about a dozen instances of splattery, gore-caked violence, brain slurping, and intestines spilling to keep any potential opining about Marxist philosophy far at bay, all of which is nicely wrapped around a young heroine’s story of trauma survival and unlocking her inner badass. This is, after all, entertainment!