Just like in those SAW movies, Morrison left the absolute worst for last and my goodness, it’s beyond demented. It isn’t clear what happened to the protagonist whether he was caught or whether like Helen he worked his way up to murder.

Shamelessly, I'll admit that more than being disturbed or repulsed, I found myself laughing my lungs out while reading it.he doesn’t report her to the authorities and they obviously strike up a very weird kinship, because they’re both fucking psychotic. When the two of them meet, they embark on a journey of self-discovery while shattering societal norms and engaging in destructively aberrant behavior.

the mc caught Helen “in the act” and the whole situation was obviously absurdly funny to me once again.Being already familiar with 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧's terrific style, I knew this book would be well written, however, I didn't expect it to have such a deranged dark humor. MC and Helen are bound to be doomed and despite the short intermezzo encompassing their unity and Helen’s efforts, it is clear from the very first page that there are no rose gardens in their future. that’s the only question i’m able to force past my lips, despite the existence of other, more obvious, inquiries. Dead Inside gives even further food for thought, for instance by presenting victims of consensual violence who die a happy death, prompting its main character to wonder about how fucked up people can get, even more than himself.

the mc is obviously very disgruntled and grossed out by the fact that he’s actually relating to another human being and to his absolute horror, he actually starts to like her, in his own sociopathic way. In this bleak and disturbingly erotic debut novel, iconoclast Chandler Morrison provides readers with a dark exploration of the nature of death, individuality, and generational identity. Things seem to be going smoothly for this utterly depraved individual until he meets a vile woman even more fucked-up then he is. Whether it is a writing on the philosophy of physics, a bleak and joyless monologue on existentialism or something from the protagonist about his preference for coupling with cadavers rather than living flesh, I demand to be plucked outta my mind and transported along on the author's ship-of-the-imagination.It doesn't matter if you're into Stephen King, Octavia Butler, Jack Ketchum or Shirley Jackson, this is the place to share that love and discuss to your heart's content. But even though many scenes were gross, the main characters weird, and the whole setting utterly depraved I enjoyed the excellent prose and couldn't put the book down.