Faces of beth, p.1
Faces of Beth, page 1
FACES OF BETH
CARVER PIKE
Copyright © 2022 by Carver Pike
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems,
without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief
quotations in a book review.
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CONTENTS
Dedication and Author’s Note
THE MANY FACES OF CARVER: AN INTRODUCTION BY BRIAN
KEENE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Newsletter Sign-Up
About the Author
Also by Carver Pike
DEDICATION AND AUTHOR’S NOTE
This book is dedicated to everyone out there struggling with any kind
of mental or physical illness or injury. Maybe you don’t even know
what it is that’s plaguing you. I’ve spent most my life trying to figure
out how to complete my thousand-piece puzzle when I know I’ve
always been missing a handful of pieces. I’m not the only one.
You’re not either. If all the rest of the world would only understand
that a smile on the outside doesn’t always mean things are okay on
the inside, maybe we’d all be a little more okay.
A squeegee and some soapy water can do wonders for a
window, but it won’t wipe up the clutter inside. It might just keep it
hidden behind that bright reflective façade. Don’t be afraid to let
people know the inside needs some work too and that you need a
little time and some help getting things back in order. Your real
friends will understand and will be there to help.
This book is also dedicated to family. All of it in all its forms.
Family is family. Remember that. No matter how crazy things get.
Family is family. You’re not forced to stick with the ones you share
blood with. If they treat you like shit, if they don’t understand you,
bully, and belittle you, then maybe they don’t deserve you.
Real family is love. Distance can’t destroy it. Time can’t strip it.
Family is always there when you need them. Family can also be the
ones you choose or the ones who filled gaps in your life you didn’t
even know were there. Don’t be afraid to let new family in and don’t
be afraid to blend the old with the new. Family can grow if you
nurture it – if you allow it.
My family is my wife who sits right here in this wide reclining chair
with me and cuddles up close every night to remind me I’m loved.
Jules is my ride or die and will be with me ‘til the end. I’ve seen what
true family is with her. What fighting for someone means. What being
there means. What a true partnership means. She recently joined
me in attending my first ever horror convention and even though she
didn’t think it was her world, she blended right in. She did that for me
because she knew it meant that much to me, and that horror world –
my horror family, accepted her. Hell, she probably made more
friends than I did. Jules fucking rocks, man. She gets it. She gets
me. And I hope she feels I get her.
My family is my kids over in Panama who I hope to have here
with me someday. They’re far away, but I hope they catch a glimpse
of some of this and that I make them proud. I hope they can see me
following my dream and working my ass off to make this work. I
know at least one of them reads my work sometimes. My family is
my kids here in West Virginia who let me come to their ball games
and who make me feel included. We’re one big ass blended family.
It’s awesome. My family is my parents, my brothers, my grandma, in-
laws, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews spread out all
over this country.
My family is the group of horror authors, traditionally and indie
published, who continue to lift each other up and inspire authors like
myself. I love knowing I can reach out to almost anybody around
without fear I’ll be ignored or pushed away. I’ve said before, and I
truly believe, that we might write the craziest, sickest shit around, but
the horror world has the kindest, gentlest people on the planet.
My family is also my friends and dedicated readers who have
stuck by me through all kinds of changes in my life, through my ups
and downs, through my crossing literary genres, and who continue to
show up for me, share my work, read everything I have to offer, and
who are always there to remind me real life comes first and book
world comes second. You’re the best and I hope you know you’re as
appreciated as you always make me feel.
Thank you to the other three members of what have become
dubbed the Gore Four by our great friend Candace Nola. My three
co-hosts on the Written in Red podcast. Aron Beauregard, Daniel J.
Volpe, and Rowland Bercy Jr. Having you guys to bounce ideas
around, to share book covers, and for constant inspiration has been
awesome. We’ve challenged each other and really pushed each
other to be better all-around. Not only as authors but as
businessmen as a whole. Thank you for being friends and brothers.
I also want to say a special thanks to my author friend Lucas
Mangum. Lucas is an author I’ve looked up to and have been
inspired by over the years. He’s not only an outstanding author in the
horror world who has a wealth of experience and has co-written
books with so many horror greats, but he’s also such a genuinely
nice guy. I got the pleasure of being on a panel with him during
Killercon 2021 and since then we’ve become good friends. I asked
Lucas to read Faces of Beth prior to publishing it, and it was his kind
words that made me comfortable enough to hand it over to Brian
Keene for his introduction. In other words, Lucas helped me make
sure I didn’t chicken shit out. Ha!
A big, special thank you must go to the group of dedicated friends
and readers who helped me clean this story up and make sure it was
ready for publication. Thank you to Autumn S., Stephanie A., Fran
R., Beverly S., and Mary H. for all your help with this one. You’ve
been with me for so long and I’ve always been able to count on you.
You’re the best.
As always thank you to my great author friend and big sister,
Faith Gibson, for doing a final read through. You always make me
feel comfortable with hitting that “publish” button. If you’re reading
this and you haven’t read Faith’s books, you’re missing out. She
writes some of the baddest gargoyle and gryphon and werewolf
mixed with biker and… just… just go check out her shit ‘cause she’s
fuckin’ awesome.
Lastly, I want to thank Brian Keene. During virtual Killercon 2021,
when I was taking part in one of the panels, I looked over to the right
of my screen and saw the chat box. Brian Keene’s name came up
and he said something about reading my work during the pandemic.
I immediately closed the chat box. I didn’t want to have a total fanboy
moment live on video. After that, we chatted a bit on Twitter and his
words of encouragement did a lot for me right when I was going
through some self-doubt. That damn imposter syndrome is a beast.
Having one of my literary heroes tell me I’ve got the goods lit a spark
under my ass that led to me finishing this book. He didn’t have to
take the time to talk to me or offer up those words of
encouragement. Then, h
next book, which happened to be this one. The words he put into the
following intro mean more to me than he’ll ever know. I’m not kidding
when I say they brought tears to my eyes. If I ever again wonder if
there’s a place for me in this career – in this horror world of ours, I’ll
re-read this introduction. It’ll be framed on my office wall. Thank you,
Mr. Keene.
Here's Brian Keene’s Introduction to Faces of Beth…
THE MANY FACES OF CARVER: AN
INTRODUCTION BY BRIAN KEENE
Way back in the ancient times of 1988, horror fiction found itself
divided into two tribes. One side was composed of authors such as
Charles L. Grant, Dean Koontz, William F. Nolan, Dennis Etchison,
and T.M. Wright, all of whom were proponents of quiet, traditional
horror. They often bumped heads with a group of emerging writers
who called themselves splatterpunks. The core of this group of
writers consisted of David J. Schow, John Skipp, Craig Spector,
Richard Christian Matheson, Joe R. Lansdale, and Clive Barker.
Unlike traditional horror fiction, splatterpunk depicted graphic
violence and sex, and usually addressed socio-political topics and
taboo subjects head-on.
These two groups argued a lot, at first, except that the internet
and social media didn't exist back then, so they debated the merits
of Splatterpunk (as the sub-genre had come to be known) in the
letter columns of magazines like Afraid and The Horror
Show and The Twilight Zone.
Around this same time, there was another movement happening
within horror fiction. Writers such as Edward Lee, Richard Laymon,
Jack Ketchum, and Rex Miller were writing works that made
Splatterpunk seem tame by comparison. For many years, these
works were categorized as Splatterpunk, but what we were really
seeing was the birth of Splatterpunk's twin brother – Extreme Horror
(a label that would not come along until writers such as myself,
Wrath James White, J.F. Gonzalez, Bryan Smith, Ryan Harding, and
Monica O'Rourke began to get published in the late-1990s and early
2000s).
But I'm getting ahead of myself. By 1991 (several years before
me or any of my friends mentioned above came onto the scene) the
horror fiction tribe had pretty much decided to get along, and
everybody was happy and welcome again. Splatterpunk and the
then-still-unnamed Extreme Horror fit in right alongside Quiet Horror,
Cosmic Horror, mainstream Horror, and all of the other sub-category
marketing labels that booksellers and publishers use to move
product.
Today, younger readers (and some writers) are often not sure
what constitutes the difference between Splatterpunk and Extreme
Horror, and indeed, the differences can often be as thin as
gossamer. The main difference is that Splatterpunk usually has a
politically or socially conscious angle to its boundary-pushing graphic
content, and extreme horror is about boundary-pushing for its own
sake. Both sub-genres are artistically valid, providing they have
heart.
And Carver Pike has a big heart.
As I have often said, if you think of Splatterpunk and Extreme
Horror as music, then the former is The Sex Pistols, Black Flag, The
Misfits, The Ramones, and Green Day, while the latter is Anthrax,
Iron Maiden, Gwar, Metallica, and Cannibal Corpse.
Easy analogy, right? But stick with me a second longer. If you are
a fan of music, then take a moment to consider Motorhead – a band
that comprised both genres, with one foot firmly in punk and the
other firmly in heavy metal.
Carver Pike is Motorhead.
He's motherfucking Motorhead, gang.
He is a fourth-generation Splatterpunk and Extreme Horror writer
with one foot firmly in each camp. I'm not sure if that's on purpose or
just a natural progression. Maybe it's a result of his influences. But I
suspect it is more a result of him coming into his own as a writer, and
finding his voice, and fearlessly challenging himself with each new
work. Regardless of how it came about, we are lucky to have him.
He's pushing both Splatterpunk and Extreme Horror ahead –
expanding them, playing with them, taking them in new directions
and pushing new boundaries. And look, as an author who has been
heralded over and over again for the last two decades when it comes
to pushing boundaries, trust me when I tell you, that is no easy trick.
Hell, at age 54 with 60 plus books under my name, I didn't think
there were any boundaries left. And then along comes Gretchen
Felker-Martin, Aron Beauregard, Daniel J. Volpe, Samantha
Kolesnik, Wesley Southard, Kristopher Triana, Wile E. Young,
Candace Nola, Christine Morgan, Rowland Bercy Jr., C.V. Hunt, and
the rest of this new fourth generation, with Carver Pike at their head
like some clean-cut, country boy reincarnation of Lemmy, and the
boundaries I didn't even think existed anymore? They just blow them
right the hell up, leaving a fine red mist in their chaotic wake.
Suddenly, Wrath James White, Bryan Smith, Ryan Harding,
Monica O'Rourke and myself are stuck having to play catch up. And
I shudder to think what the really old guys like Edward Lee, David J.
Schow, and John Skipp are having to do to keep pace. (Love you,
guys!)
I love it. As a reader and fan of all forms of horror fiction, it
delights me to see this melding taking place. And as a writer of all
forms of horror fiction, it pleases me to see that there are still new
places to go and new ground to tread.
I suspect Carver will begin treading into some of Horror's other
sub-genres very soon, as well. You can see the beginnings of it, here
in this book. It's right there in how he approaches mental illness. As I
said above, he's got heart. And he has things to say. Could we see a
Carver Pike quiet horror novel? Or a Carver Pike cosmic horror
novel? I bet we will. He has many faces left to show us, and I'm here
for it. I discovered his work during the pandemic, and I've quickly
become a fan.
Anyway, I'll shut up now, and let Carver take over. He has some
things to say to you, here in the dark. You may think you're ready,
but you have no idea...
(You might want to turn some Motorhead on in the background).
– Brian Keene
Somewhere along the Susquehanna River
April 2022
1
Family is family. Remember that. No matter how crazy things get.
Family is family.
It was a promise he’d made his wife. Andrew would be as patient
as possible. He would try to understand each of her family members’
quirks, and boy, did they have their quirks.
Gore was due home any minute, and like a concerned father,
Andrew sat in his windowsill with his hands cupped around a mug of
hot chocolate and his current mystery read face down beside him.
It’s nearly one. He knows how worried I get. We’ve talked about
this. He agreed to get home at a decent hour.
Andrew had issued an ultimatum: if the guy wanted to have a roof
over his head, if he wanted to be welcome at the dinner table, if he
wanted to be accepted as part of the family, he’d have to abide by a
few rules.
One o’clock in the morning is not a decent hour.
Then again, he wasn’t a child. He’d be home soon. He was
probably rushing home right now.
As if on cue, the doorknob rattled a few feet away. Andrew hadn’t
seen the approach, but Gore was great at sticking to the shadows.
He was one sneaky son of a bitch.
Andrew stood, unlocked the door, and backed away. He snatched
up his book and dashed to the living room where he sat on the couch
as if he’d been there all evening.
