Slugs (UK: Star Books, 1982)
Tagline: "They slime, they ooze, they kill--"
If you dig pulp horror, then Shaun Hutson needs no introduction.
Back in the '80's, he wrote quite a few of these nasties--Spawn, Erebus,
Nemesis--as well as a number of very bloody war novels. He was one of
the few writers to survive the collapse of the horror paperback market in the
1990's by churning out a series of gritty crime and dark espionage
thrillers...all of which were filled with brutal violence and bloodshed. He
continues to do so to this day and never fails his legion of fans. He knows
what they want and he always delivers. Hutson's greatest strength has
always been that he does not flinch from his subject matter. Like your older
Tagline: "They slime, they ooze, they kill--"
If you dig pulp horror, then Shaun Hutson needs no introduction.
Back in the '80's, he wrote quite a few of these nasties--Spawn, Erebus,
Nemesis--as well as a number of very bloody war novels. He was one of
the few writers to survive the collapse of the horror paperback market in the
1990's by churning out a series of gritty crime and dark espionage
thrillers...all of which were filled with brutal violence and bloodshed. He
continues to do so to this day and never fails his legion of fans. He knows
what they want and he always delivers. Hutson's greatest strength has
always been that he does not flinch from his subject matter. Like your older
brother grossing you out about the dead dog he found in a ditch, Hutson takes ghoulish pleasure in
describing the most horrific and revolting atrocities and when you buy a book to read about flesh-eating
slugs...why would you want anything less?
Throughout the years there have been quite a few jokes made about this book mainly by people who
probably never read it or decided that a book about man-eating slugs was simply beneath them. Well,
let's set the record straight: this is good pulp horror written by a guy who has turned his share of
stomachs through the years and is probably quite proud of the fact. As are we.
First off, as you can see by the cover, this baby has nothing whatsoever to do with those cute--or not so
cute--little slugs that you come across beneath a rotting log or that invade your garden in numbers.
These slugs are black and glistening, eight inches long, and love nothing better than sucking human
blood and eating human flesh. And did I mention there are thousands of them? Hutson wastes no time
and gets down to business in the first chapter:
"...he saw that his limbs were covered by a seething black mass of the creatures, all slipping and
sliding over one another in their efforts to get at his warm flesh. They were on his stomach too,
burrowing into the skin and muscle. With a mixture of terror and disbelief, he realized they were eating
him."
And he keeps things moving with grisly speed throughout:
"Another struck at her buttocks, boring deep into the flesh and now Donna struggled to her feet but, a
third slug slid up the inside of her thigh and, to her horror, Donna felt it boring into her crutch. She
screamed with renewed ferocity as the thick black thing forced its way into her, like some obscene
bloated penis."
Tasty. But then this:
"Palmer's screams became fainter as the slugs ate their way into him, a number burrowing up through
his torn genitals, using his anus as a means of access in their search for the soft, more succulent
parts of his body."
Yeah, exceptionally gut-churning, As you've probably figured out, a new mutant/hybrid form of slug is on
the march and poor old England is once again the buffet. It's up to public health inspector, Mike Brady
(no, not that Mike Brady), a crusty sewerman, Palmer, and museum worker/naturalist, John Foley, to
set things right. While Foley dissects the new species of slug, Brady and Foley are down below
crawling on their hands and knees through stinking sewage pipes looking for clues. And as evidence
mounts, so do the horrors. A child's pet rabbit is devoured. A pair of young lovers are eaten from the
inside out. Slugs come pouring out of sink taps and gurgling up through toilets. A graverobber opens a
casket and becomes the main course. And if marauding slugs aren't bad enough, Foley learns that the
slugs are carrying blood flukes which get inside people and travel right to their brains, causing
cysts...and also causing episodic psychotic behavior as the flukes develop in gray matter, something
Hutson illustrates quite effectively when a mature fluke slides from a man's nose during a business lunch
(along with a hell of a lot of blood). Finally, releasing a special poison into the sewer system, the slugs
are destroyed by Brady and Foley...at least until Breeding Ground, the sequel.
Pros: This one succeeds on just about every level with its sickening imagery and is entirely satisfying in
the three G's of Horror's Guilty Pleasures: Ghastly, Gruesome, and Gor-ifying. You get the impression
that Hutson finds slugs specially appalling as did James Herbert with his rats. And that's a plus. The
horror seems to resonate from an intimate, private fear.
Cons: Nothing much. Would have liked to see the whole blood fluke angle more fully developed, but
other than that this one is pretty spotless.
Overall: Go grab a copy. If you avoided this one because you were too self-important for man-eating
slugs, re-think your decision. This is pulp horror in fine form. And if you're the sort that found The Texas
Chainsaw Massacre to be an exercise in subtlety, then this one is for you!
I give this one 4½ bloody skulls out of five.
Next month's Guilty Pleasure:
"An eruption of death-lust beyond the bounds of horror..."
describing the most horrific and revolting atrocities and when you buy a book to read about flesh-eating
slugs...why would you want anything less?
Throughout the years there have been quite a few jokes made about this book mainly by people who
probably never read it or decided that a book about man-eating slugs was simply beneath them. Well,
let's set the record straight: this is good pulp horror written by a guy who has turned his share of
stomachs through the years and is probably quite proud of the fact. As are we.
First off, as you can see by the cover, this baby has nothing whatsoever to do with those cute--or not so
cute--little slugs that you come across beneath a rotting log or that invade your garden in numbers.
These slugs are black and glistening, eight inches long, and love nothing better than sucking human
blood and eating human flesh. And did I mention there are thousands of them? Hutson wastes no time
and gets down to business in the first chapter:
"...he saw that his limbs were covered by a seething black mass of the creatures, all slipping and
sliding over one another in their efforts to get at his warm flesh. They were on his stomach too,
burrowing into the skin and muscle. With a mixture of terror and disbelief, he realized they were eating
him."
And he keeps things moving with grisly speed throughout:
"Another struck at her buttocks, boring deep into the flesh and now Donna struggled to her feet but, a
third slug slid up the inside of her thigh and, to her horror, Donna felt it boring into her crutch. She
screamed with renewed ferocity as the thick black thing forced its way into her, like some obscene
bloated penis."
Tasty. But then this:
"Palmer's screams became fainter as the slugs ate their way into him, a number burrowing up through
his torn genitals, using his anus as a means of access in their search for the soft, more succulent
parts of his body."
Yeah, exceptionally gut-churning, As you've probably figured out, a new mutant/hybrid form of slug is on
the march and poor old England is once again the buffet. It's up to public health inspector, Mike Brady
(no, not that Mike Brady), a crusty sewerman, Palmer, and museum worker/naturalist, John Foley, to
set things right. While Foley dissects the new species of slug, Brady and Foley are down below
crawling on their hands and knees through stinking sewage pipes looking for clues. And as evidence
mounts, so do the horrors. A child's pet rabbit is devoured. A pair of young lovers are eaten from the
inside out. Slugs come pouring out of sink taps and gurgling up through toilets. A graverobber opens a
casket and becomes the main course. And if marauding slugs aren't bad enough, Foley learns that the
slugs are carrying blood flukes which get inside people and travel right to their brains, causing
cysts...and also causing episodic psychotic behavior as the flukes develop in gray matter, something
Hutson illustrates quite effectively when a mature fluke slides from a man's nose during a business lunch
(along with a hell of a lot of blood). Finally, releasing a special poison into the sewer system, the slugs
are destroyed by Brady and Foley...at least until Breeding Ground, the sequel.
Pros: This one succeeds on just about every level with its sickening imagery and is entirely satisfying in
the three G's of Horror's Guilty Pleasures: Ghastly, Gruesome, and Gor-ifying. You get the impression
that Hutson finds slugs specially appalling as did James Herbert with his rats. And that's a plus. The
horror seems to resonate from an intimate, private fear.
Cons: Nothing much. Would have liked to see the whole blood fluke angle more fully developed, but
other than that this one is pretty spotless.
Overall: Go grab a copy. If you avoided this one because you were too self-important for man-eating
slugs, re-think your decision. This is pulp horror in fine form. And if you're the sort that found The Texas
Chainsaw Massacre to be an exercise in subtlety, then this one is for you!
I give this one 4½ bloody skulls out of five.
Next month's Guilty Pleasure:
"An eruption of death-lust beyond the bounds of horror..."