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Hello again, folks. This is the fifth installment of monthly double reviews studying the structure of great horror fiction published in our beloved <\/span>Cemetery Dance<\/span><\/i>.<\/span><\/p>\n Last time<\/span><\/a> I reviewed my favorite story from Cemetery Dance<\/em>\u00a0#1, Anke M. Kriske\u2019s \u201cThe Departing of Debbie\u201d and\u00a0William Peter Blatty\u2019s semi-controversial \u201cTerry and the Werewolf\u201d from Cemetery Dance<\/em> #62 (2009). <\/span><\/p>\n If you want to know about some really great early horror fiction and\/or give your respect to our recently-lost great, Mr. Blatty, do please check it out. <\/span><\/p>\n This month, I\u2019m going to review 2 stories from the same author, a man who is clearly one one<\/span> of Cemetery Dance<\/em>\u2019s favorite repeat contributors based on the fact that he\u2019s been published in Cemetery Dance<\/em> numbers\u00a01, 2, 4, 7, 13, 14, 34, 36, 39, 50, 64, and\u00a071. He has been published by CD more than only one\u00a0other author (that\u2019s a column for another day), and has been there since the beginning. <\/span><\/p>\n His name is Mr. Bentley Little.<\/span><\/p>\n Let\u2019s get to it…<\/span><\/p>\n The Old: “The Janitor”<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n APPEARANCE:<\/b> Cemetery Dance<\/em> #1 (December 1988)<\/span><\/p>\n PLOT (with spoilers!):<\/b> Steven is the new kid at Sunnycrest Elementary School. In the playground on his first day, he accidentally runs into the school\u2019s janitor, a man that looks like a pig with a ring of grey hair around its head and smiles too widely. <\/span><\/p>\n Inside, Steven observes a watercolor painting of a green monster with pointed teeth, a ring of grey hair, and pushing a broom. A nerdy kid named Timmy Turner sees him admiring it and claims ownership. Timmy, Steven notices, is missing several teeth. Then, through the window, Steven sees the janitor watching the two of them while fingering his necklace made of teeth. <\/span><\/p>\n Later in class, the teacher asks for a volunteer to take the erasers to get cleaned at the janitor\u2019s closet. Nobody volunteers. Eventually, a kid named Eddie Trerise gets pegged for the job, but by lunchtime Eddie hasn\u2019t returned. <\/span><\/p>\n Steven and\u00a0Timmy sit together at lunch, and Steven is surprised to find that the standard meal—what Timmy calls \u201cbarfaroni\u201d—is actually not that bad. As they chat, Timmy also explains that the janitor is just as horrible as he looks and is even responsible for removing Timmy\u2019s missing teeth. Upon asking why he didn\u2019t tell the teacher or his parents, Timmy claims that all the adults are in on it. On their way out of the lunchroom, Steven sees two boys with broken arms, two girls who walk with a limp, and one boy who\u2019s shaved head reveals several red welts. <\/span><\/p>\n After lunch, the teacher announces that Eddie Trerise has gone home sick, then assigns Steven to go retrieve the erasers still at the janitor\u2019s closet. When he gets there, the closet looks perfectly normal until the janitor leads him to a much larger back room which proves to be a horrorshow. Teeth necklaces hang from the walls, dried scalps are nailed to the ceiling, mason jars filled with \u201cred and squishy things\u201d line the shelves, and the centerpiece of it all is a big chopping block in the middle of the room, still wet with blood. On it is a scrap of Eddie Trerise\u2019s shirt. <\/span><\/p>\n Stephen screams. The janitor laughs. <\/span><\/p>\n Stephen threatens to tell his parents. The janitor tells him his parents don\u2019t care and goes on\u00a0to describe them with startling detail. <\/span><\/p>\n Frightened, Steven fights back, but the janitor easily pins him down. He picks up a pair of long shears and asks Steven which is more important to him: his little finger or his little toe. Steven manages to kick the janitor and smash a jar over his head. His seeming victory is short-lived, though, when Steven realizes the old man\u2019s head isn\u2019t even cut in the attack. The last words Steven hears is the janitor telling him he\u2019s been a bad boy and must be properly punished. <\/span><\/p>\n The next day at lunch, Timmy Turner thinks the “barfaroni” that day is the best they\u2019d had in a long time. <\/span><\/p>\n MY GRADE: B<\/b><\/p>\n MY REVIEW:<\/b> Wait\u2026 a mere “B” for the great Bentley Little?! (Why do I get the feeling that gods of horror are about to smite me?) <\/span><\/p>\n This story has classic horror written all over it. It\u2019s creepy, it\u2019s gruesome\u2026 but its premise is wildly improbable, and the overall story is woefully simplistic in its execution. <\/span><\/p>\n *ducks for cover, awaiting the debilitating crash of a lightning bolt*<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n Okay, I\u2019m still alive, so I guess I\u2019m either not that far off the truth or the horror gods still haven\u2019t heard of me. Either way, allow me to explain myself. <\/span><\/p>\n CLAIM #1: IT\u2019S CREEPY<\/span><\/p>\n EVIDENCE: What one person within the confines of an elementary school elicits more icky feels than the old man who pushes a broom? Answer: none. And what you didn\u2019t see in my brief rundown of the story was how this janitor stalks the kids relentlessly. The one time you saw it was when Steven looks out the window and\u00a0he\u2019s there looking in. This was one of but four\u00a0or five\u00a0times he\u2019s actually RIGHT THERE when he isn\u2019t supposed to be. So, is it creepy? Well, he literally creeps around the school grounds, so yeah, you bet. Check that one off the list. <\/span><\/p>\n CLAIM #2: IT\u2019S GRUESOME<\/span><\/p>\n EVIDENCE: This janitor pulls teeth from the kids and puts them on a necklace. If we only heard<\/em> of this rumor we\u2019d call it just more creepiness, but Little actually shows<\/em> us the back room of his closet complete with dried scalps, odd body parts suspended in jars, and of course the bloody butcher block. Though we don\u2019t ever actually witness an act of murder or dismemberment, the descriptions of that room is strong enough. Yes, this is a gruesome story, particularly because the victims are all children. <\/span><\/p>\n CLAIM #3: IT\u2019S PREMISE IS WILDLY IMPROBABLE. <\/span><\/p>\n EVIDENCE: This story is <\/span>not<\/span> a fantasy. There is nothing supernatural happening here (with one possible exception: the janitor\u2019s head is impervious to getting cut, though even that can be easily explained by it being a kid who attempted to do the damage). No, this is realistic fiction of the psychological thriller variety, and that word “realistic” is where Little starts to lose me. Yes, it\u2019s horror. Yes, I\u2019m perfectly willing to suspend my disbelief of reality in order to enjoy a good tale. But a school where the teachers and\u00a0parents are well-aware of the torturous, murderous deeds of a rogue janitor needs some kind of reasoning behind it. Is the janitor the devil, perhaps, and the other adults part of his demon pride? That would make more sense. Are they all brainwashed by a mad cult leader and believe routine sacrifices necessary to their own survival or salvation? Again, I could buy into that. But every adult in the story—the janitor included—are portrayed as real people living in the real world. And folks, real adults just don\u2019t act like that, obviously. Because of this disconnect, Little\u2019s story loses a significant element of its fear factor.<\/span><\/p>\n CLAIM #4: THE OVERALL STORY IS WOEFULLY SIMPLISTIC IN ITS EXECUTION. <\/span><\/p>\n EVIDENCE: Steven sees Timmy\u2019s missing teeth. One paragraph later he sees a necklace of teeth around the janitor\u2019s neck. Timmy tells Steven the janitor tortures the kids. One paragraph later Steven sees several kids with a variety of injuries. When Steven goes to the janitor\u2019s closet, everything looks normal. One paragraph later the janitor invites Steven into the back room where we see his true collection of torture and maiming instruments. Do you see my point? Little gives us a classic horror tease, but he fulfills the other end of that tease immediately, and he does this over and over again. As a result, the climax of the story is entirely predictable and none of the characters ever rise to a level beyond rudimentary stereotypes. <\/span><\/p>\n And yet I didn\u2019t give this story a “D,” a “C,” or even a “B-.” So what gives, Fritz? Am I playing favorites here? Am I being overly cautious because of Mr. Little\u2019s obvious importance to the pages of Cemetery Dance<\/em> over the years? I don\u2019t think so. Because despite its obvious faults, the truth is that this story also <\/span>bothered me<\/span> on a fundamental level. Even days after reading it, I can\u2019t get it out of my head. The teeth necklaces, the nonchalance at which the teacher sends yet another kid to his\/her doom, the final brutal fight scene between Steven and the janitor\u2026 all of it feeds into what I said at the beginning: This is classic horror. And I like classic horror for that very reason. Sometimes when you\u2019re reading a story, you don\u2019t <\/span>want<\/span> to ponder the mysteries of the universe\u2026 you just want to be entertained. See, I <\/span>know<\/span> how ridiculous the premise is, and I <\/span>know<\/span> how easy it was to predict the climax, but that stuff is okay\u00a0sometimes. Besides, the ending\u2026 oh dear, that ending!… adds another level to the whole thing. Did I see the “barfaroni” reference coming? Honestly, no, I didn\u2019t. But even if I had, it\u2019s that little extra kick that stays with you long after the story is done. And for me, that\u2019s just another element of what makes classic horror so appealing.<\/span><\/p>\n The New: “We”<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span>APPEARANCE:<\/b> Cemetery Dance<\/em> #64 (August 2010)<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span>PLOT (with spoilers!):<\/b> Ed is a traffic cop in Vegas. He does most of his ticket-writing on the outskirts of town, and the only reason he chose the woman in the red Sentra over any of the other vehicles going the same speed was because she was \u201csuch a stone fox.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n Her plates returned nothing of concern and when he went to her window she was crying, apologizing, and handing over her license and registration even before he opened his mouth. He let her off with a warning and moved back to his cruiser, ready to nab and ticket the next speeding car when her exact words occurred to him again. <\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWe were just in a hurry,\u201d she\u2019d said. Only the woman had been alone in the car. He replayed the scene again in his mind and now recalled that she might have gestured toward the passenger seat when she\u2019d said that “w<\/span>e<\/span>.” He thought harder and now remembered there had been a spot of some brown, viscous goo there. Before he could contemplate further, though, another car speeds by, well over the limit, and Ed reprimands himself for not being in position to catch the guy. He goes back to work and forgets the incident. <\/span><\/p>\n When off duty later that night, Ed makes his way to The Regent, a small, third-rate casino that only the locals go to. While looking for women he might approach, he is surprised to see the woman from that afternoon who had been driving the red Sentry. <\/span><\/p>\n She\u2019s sitting alone in a booth so he goes over, hoping to sweet-talk her into a seedy nightcap, but she tells him, \u201cWe\u2019re kind of in the middle of something here. I think we need a little privacy.\u201d Ed looks, and sure enough there is a spot of brown goo on the seat next to her. When she realizes what he\u2019s seen, the woman casually scoots over and sits directly on the brown stain. Freaked out by her behavior, Ed backs away and goes straight to his car where he then drives aimlessly around the city for the rest of the night. That night he dreams about his dead parents being alive again. They invite him to their house, show him a brown gooey puddle on the couch, and introduce Ed to his “new brother.”<\/span><\/p>\n The next evening, after a whole day of writing tickets and obsessively checking passenger seats for brown stains, Ed joins a handful of fellow officers at\u00a0a new police bar on the outskirts of the business district. Before long, two of the guys, Marlon and Sam, appear distracted and leave unexpectedly early. Both of them use that pronoun, “w<\/span>e<\/span>,” in making their excuses, though both were alone when they\u2019d said it. <\/span><\/p>\n The next morning, both Marlon and Sam are absent, and neither had called in sick. That afternoon he sees yet another officer, Mike, sitting oddly alone and muttering to himself in the locker room. Only when Ed looks closer he sees Mike isn\u2019t alone, of course. There is a brown spot of goo on the bench next to him. Out in the lobby, Sergeant Poole is on the phone but staring down at the seat next to him. He tells the person on the other line, \u201cSorry we can\u2019t right now. We\u2019re busy.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span>That night Ed finds The Regent totally empty of any gamblers or drinkers. Out on the strip he learns that even the streets and the big casinos are sparsely populated. <\/span><\/p>\n The following day, six\u00a0of the 12 officers on that day\u2019s shift didn\u2019t show up to work. None of them had called it in. Then, even his best friend, Rob, goes down the rabbit hole, walking Ed to the parking lot and introducing him to his “new girlfriend”… a brown stain sitting on the passenger seat of his car. This time, though, Ed sees the spot move, which is when Ed runs. <\/span><\/p>\n Scared but not knowing what else to do, Ed goes through the mindless tedium of pulling over cars and giving tickets. The ploy seems to abate the worst of his fears until he sees a red Sentry with the same woman behind the wheel. He pulls her over, gives her a ticket, and is unsurprised when she is unfazed by it. In fact, it\u00a0seems to have no effect whatsoever. <\/span><\/p>\n When he returns to his cruiser, Ed is equally unsurprised to see a brown spot on the passenger seat. But unlike all the others he\u2019d seen in the past two days, this one is somehow friendly and inviting rather than creepy. Moreover, he realizes the spot is female and kind of cute. The story ends when Ed takes a deep breath, turns to the brown goo next to him and tells it, \u201cHello. My name\u2019s Ed. What\u2019s yours?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n MY GRADE: A-<\/b><\/p>\n MY REVIEW:<\/b> In 2010, Cemetery Dance<\/em> had been in production for a full dozen years. They had published 64 issues and more than 470 stories. Mr. Bentley Little had by that point graced their pages no less than TEN times in ten different issues, and it was at this point they decided to give him his own special issue. <\/span><\/p>\n Issue #64 of Cemetery Dance<\/em> features a cover inspired by his story \u201cThe Mailman\u201d (previously published in issue #13), two never-before-seen short stories, an interview-styled essay on the man, a huge collection of paragraph-long reviews of all 12 of his novels to that date, a long list of nearly a hundred short stories published in Little\u2019s career, and a detailed review of his most recently published novel, His Father\u2019s Son<\/em>. \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n In reading this issue I was most interested in seeing if Mr. Little\u2019s style had changed over the years. <\/span><\/p>\n The short answer is that it hadn\u2019t. <\/span><\/p>\n The long answer, however, explains why I give this story a higher grade even though he is very much the same writer after all these years. <\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWe\u201d is still classic horror—Little\u2019s clear strength as a writer—but it doesn\u2019t fall victim to some of the standard tropes of the genre either. In a word, Little has clearly honed his craft over the years. <\/span><\/p>\n The difference here is that \u201cWe\u201d builds at a more natural pace than \u201cThe Janitor\u201d does. First the brown goo is merely remembered, not actively seen. Next it\u2019s directly seen but not understood. Then we have evidence of its fast spread through the city of Las Vegas through various missing persons. Then the brown spot of Ed\u2019s friend Rob actually <\/span>moves<\/span><\/i>, and finally Ed\u2019s own personal brown stain appears where we finally get the perspective of its victim. In this manner the antagonist of the story builds from an innocuous oddity into a full-blown plague. <\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThe Janitor\u201d did none of that. In fact, the character of the janitor himself was exactly the same in his first scene as he was in the last. He\u2019s creepy, true, but he\u2019s also obvious. The brown \u201cWe\u201d goo, on the other hand, is also creepy from the start, but it\u2019s also an unknown and it changes throughout the story. <\/span><\/p>\n Another advantage \u201cWe\u201d has over Little\u2019s older work is an adherence to a single subgenre. In \u201cThe Janitor\u201d readers get that awkward juxtaposition between two different storytelling methods\u2026 why do all the adults pretend all of this is okay? If the janitor has some kind of supernatural control over them, we never see it. This leads us to think of the story in term of realistic fiction, only no adults would ever act like that in the real world. Comparatively, \u201cWe\u201d may begin in what appears to be the real world, but it quickly and consistently veers deeper and deeper into the supernatural. The brown goo clearly has an intellectual hold over whoever it possesses, and that hold proves to be stronger and scarier the longer it maintains contact. <\/span><\/p>\n With the same amount of creepiness but written with a cleaner and tighter structure, this story is clearly Little\u2019s superior work of the two. <\/span><\/p>\n Final Thoughts<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n One of the things I wanted to do this month was compare a single author over the course of time. I wanted to see if Bentley Little had gotten any better or worse. I wanted to see if he\u2019d changed his fundamental style. <\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span>What I learned is that he honed his craft, became better at what he does so naturally, but remained consistent to his true nature: Writing memorable classic horror. What Little writes has always been creepy and always sticks with you for hours or days after you\u2019re done reading. The difference now is that you aren\u2019t pulled out of the story and reminded that you\u2019re reading a story. Instead, you go from beginning to end in a single pass then sit back and wonder what the hell you just experienced. <\/span><\/p>\n And that, my friends, is good writing. \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Click here<\/span><\/a> for a complete list of every story ever published by Cemetery Dance. <\/span><\/p>\n Maybe there\u2019s one in there you\u2019d like me to read and\u00a0review. <\/span><\/p>\n If so, I\u2019d love to hear about it in the comments. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Keith Edwin Fritz<\/a> entered this world on Halloween. The year, 1974, was the same as when Stephen Edwin King published his first novel. Keith prefers to think neither the date nor their middle names were a coincidence.<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n Today Keith teaches 7th Grade Language Arts and writes to his heart\u2019s content during his \u201cspare time\u201d. The best of these moments are nearly always by moonlight. The worst of them are also by moonlight.<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n In addition to his Cemetery Dance Online column, Keith writes \u201cThe Bone Pile\u201d for FictionVortex<\/a>.<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.cemeterydance.com\/extras\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/CD1Cover.jpg?resize=264%2C350&ssl=1\")
AUTHOR:<\/b> Bentley Little<\/span><\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.cemeterydance.com\/extras\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/02\/CD64.jpg?resize=275%2C350&ssl=1\")
AUTHOR:<\/b> Bentley Little<\/span><\/p>\n