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Phenomen Demon by Michael Mulvihill

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“What’s your new place like?” John asked as they left the church. “Comfortable enough,” Shane said. A green Dublin double-decker carried them along Harcourt Street. From the upper deck they saw the tram lines, glittering in the October sun. Harcourt Garda Station slid past in brick shadow. “At least it’s better than the last dump?” John pressed. “Hot water on demand. Heat. Enough money to live.” Shane shrugged. “It’s a palace compared to before.” The men smoked by the Spire, warming themselves with vodka from a flask. “So why drag me out?” John asked. Shane hesitated. “I saw something. At three in the morning, near Harold’s Cross Park. Walking back from Elana’s.” “What did you see?” “A rat. Only… it wasn’t a rat.” He lowered his voice. “It was the size of a dog. Scarred, bleeding, with fangs like knives. Its eyes were red. It roared like a man. I hid behind a car and prayed. It changed… became a hairy giant of a man. Then it vanis...
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Vampire Horde by Michael Mulvihill

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Monica wrestled with a sleep that refused to come. Guilt gnawed at her thoughts until at last drowsiness crept forward, slowing her breath. She buried her face in the pillow and finally drifted off— A thunderous pounding jolted her awake. It sounded like a hammer striking the attic roof. She sat up, fumbling for the lamp switch. Nothing. The light was dead. In darkness, she crawled out of bed and hurried into jeans and a jumper. No time for socks—just her white Nike runners. Her phone rang. The caller ID read only one word: Picture. She frowned. No such contact existed. Still, she answered softly, “Hello?” Click. Silence. When she checked the call log, nothing was there. No Picture, no private number, no missed calls. The phone rang again. She answered faster this time—again, no connection, no record. By the third ring, Monica refused to pick up. Another hammering blow shook the roof. This time it wasn’t the roof but the attic door itself. ...
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Hellhouse at Number 4 by Michael Mulvihill

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This story grew out of an interest in suburban decay, neighbourly silence, and the quiet belief that nothing truly dangerous could ever live next door. When the tall, gaunt man moved into Number 4 — pale-skinned, throat like a rod, eyes that looked straight through you — he offered no greeting, no kindness, not even a glance. It was as if people were nothing but smoke to him. No one knew his real name. So the neighbours gave him one. He became Logos, the Taxidermist. Logos was obsessed with mounds — prehistoric ones. He wandered fields muttering about them, tracing invisible patterns into the soil with his cane. Sometimes, on still nights, neighbours swore they heard faint bird calls from inside his shuttered home — not the chirping of sparrows, but long, low cries that sounded ancient. The house had long been a ruin. A den for miscreants and parasites. Damp rot crawled through the walls. Plastic sheets covered shattered windows. Floorboards buckled under years of leaks. Lo...
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Blog of Horror Reviewed Siberian Hellhole by Michael Mulvihill 2013

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Author Michael Mulvihill sent me a copy of his work Siberian Hellhole, and I got intrigued at the idea behind his book. I had read a brief synopsis of the book on a few sites, just to get an idea about the book’s plot. I started reading, and what I got was a well crafted supernatural horror yarn that is poetically written and tells a bone chilling story. At least that is what I felt throughout while reading Siberian Hellhole. Tobias has recently moved away from Moscow to a small village where he works as a guard. Unknowingly to him, his cabin is above the entrance to Hell where lurks zombies, vampires and demons. That’s enough to grab the diehard horror reader’s attention. At the heart of the story is dealing with Christianity as well as political changes in post Soviet Russia. While using those elements, Mulvihill has crafted a tale that is quite dark, and for readers looking for a richly detailed work that blends different elements into one book, Siberian He...
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Horror Punks Reviewed Siberian Hellhole by Michael Mulvihill

BOOK REVIEW: Siberian Hellhole Posted by H.P. Hooks on May 31, 2013 at 3:38pm HORROR-PUNKS REVIEW Book by: Michael Mulvihill  Reviewed by: Charlie J. J. Kruger > When it comes to horror novels, there is a seemingly endless flow of them out there. I have read a lot, and I have even wrote a few. Now, because of the huge amount available out there, there are now sub-genres within sub-genres within further and more vast sub-genres. That said, if you are into the hyper violent, terror-through-pain, winter-survival ones, this book might just be for you. > Admittedly, that isn’t my normal go-to sub-sub-sub-sub-genre, but this book stood up to the challenge and presented me with a strong and fun story that was worth the time spent pouring over it. > Not to give too much away, but you should all be glad that it is getting warmer outside, it will make reading this book seem a little less real. Which is something you will need. Even with the super, phantasmagorical elements of the st...
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Review of Siberian Hellhole by Michael Mulvihill in Black Petals Zine

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Here is the typed-out transcription of the review text from Black Petals Issue #63 as shown in your images. I’ve kept the wording faithful to what is visible on the pages and preserved paragraph structure. Black Petals Issue #63 April 15th, 2013 THE BP #63 SPRING 2013 EDITORIAL by A.M. Stickel: BALANCING FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION WITH MORAL RESPONSIBILITY Admit it. All writers have trouble with the above. For horror writers in particular, though, freedom of expression wins out over the question of moral responsibility. Do our monsters—be they human or alien or interdimensional, made of flesh or more rarified fabric, accepted by this world or vehemently denied by it—have consciences? (If they are ordinary, garden-variety zombies, well, they do not even have minds with which to make conscious decisions, right?) Do scary stories nowadays devolve into gore fests or the celebration of the appalling? Are they veritable orgies of no-holds-barred, four-letter-word-laden acts o...
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The Dinner Show and Other Consumptions By Ben Arzate Reviewed by Michael Mulvihill

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The Dinner Show and Other Consumptions is Ben Arzate’s collection of short stories, and the terrain it covers is gruesome, tragic, extreme, dark, and unmistakably horrific. The themes are rooted firmly in the contemporary world: the poor and working class exploited by the powerful; the disgruntled and the oppressed attempting to redress imbalance; ecocide, mass homicide, prison breaks, corporate cults, reality television, and cannibalism. Arzate makes certain that armchair fans of horror will not be left wanting — though the question remains: where, exactly, does the horror reside? Throughout the collection, I was reminded repeatedly of the traditions of Hammer Films and Amicus Productions. More than once, I found myself thinking that this work could be adapted into a retro Amicus-style anthology film — something in the vein of The Uncanny — and it would work remarkably well in that format. The opening story, “The Clown Show,” prompted an unexpected association with Sigmund...
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