Maul Rats: A Slasher Novel

by Ivy Tholen

I didn’t understand why they hung out with Nicole, but more importantly, I didn’t understand why Nicole would want to hang out with them. I may have been Michelle’s tag along cousin, but Nicole was supposed to be their actual friend. For a second I felt less out of place in the world, then I realized: Every group needs a punching bag, someone who makes everyone feel like less of a loser.

“They’re wish sticks,” said Josh. “You eat them and make a simple wish, and it will come true.” I chuckled. “What counts as a simple wish?” “Don’t wish for a million dollars,” said Valentina. “It would be a waste. Ask for something small, like a good grade on a test or for a phone call from a long-lost friend. Mrs. Pritchett makes them herself to sell at her shop. Works every time if you follow the rules. But be careful what you wish for. The universe has a sick sense of humor.”

“Horror is like a big spiderweb. Older movies influence new ones, trends are ripped off and run into the ground, everything references everything else. One hit like Halloween spawns an entire subgenre, then Elm Street comes along and puts a new spin on it and that gets ripped off. Slumber Party Massacre 2 and Hello Mary Lou Prom Night 2 also both obviously stole from Freddy. And Halloween wasn’t even the first slasher to knock off a bunch of teenagers, it was just the first with a big box office. Black Christmas, Peeping Tom, Psycho, and a whole mess of Italian Giallo came first.”

“You sound like Randy from Scream,” I said. “I am Randy from Scream. You can be too.”

“Scream is amazing. Revived the genre. But there’s so much more out there. We need more people who appreciate stuff like Maniac or Tourist Trap.”

Niceness should come standard in humans, like air conditioning in a car. It’s expected, and it doesn’t earn you some magical currency you can trade to get girls to open their legs.

“You’re drunk,” I said. “Yes, I am. But I saw someone. We should go out there and check it out.” I scoffed. “Are you high?” “No, I’m drunk.” “I’m calling the cops.” “You can’t. I’m drunk.”