“‘We both have scars.’ His voice echoed through the emptiness. Not in the same way as in his father’s house, where it was cold and hollow. Here, the emptiness was a sign of promise.” – David-Jack Fletcher, The Count
HAVE YOU ever experienced an inexplicable urge, a grotesque craving—for human blood? David-Jack Fletcher’s The Count is a chilling tale of individuals ensnared by an evil existing within the dark, twisted confines of a monstrous house—a property that bears such a relentless appetite for blood—for death.
After experiencing the gut punch of a painful breakup and still pining for his ex-boyfriend, our story’s main protagonist, Sam, is thrust into the search for a new residence, leading him to a dilapidated house with walls and floors adorned with nasty stains and rotting wood. Also, there’s a mysterious, rhythmic ticking echoing throughout. Or is that sound in his head, one soon felt to his very core?
This dingy, blemished, and practically derelict property, one Sam’s best friend Patrick termed the “Murder house,” is steeped in living shadows and dark providence; it exudes a palpable sense of sentience, like a living organism observing Sam’s every move with wicked interest and a sinister agenda. Does this eerie residence truly harbour a malevolent entity that feeds off the dread of those who dare to enter and then demand tribute, a sacrifice paid repeatedly in blood?
What do you think?!
As the deliciously unsettling story unfolds, readers are drawn into a labyrinth of spine-tingling suspense and supernatural terror, where the line between reality and nightmare blurs in the haunting atmosphere of Fletcher’s cinematic storytelling. The bones of this fiendish house practically quiver in the anticipation of consuming its victims.
With its crumbling façade marked by creeping vines and weathered by time, the
house at the centre of this narrative exudes an unsettling aura that whispers of a dark history, yet author David-Jack Fletcher’s The Count is so much more than a haunted house story. It’s far more insidious than that characterization would convey.
The property harbours a malignant presence that yearns for something beyond human comprehension—a monster tethered to the home’s history. This unseen consciousness lingers in the walls and under the floorboards and is poised to awaken and consume—or infect—all who enter this not-so-homey domain. Nothing here is just moving objects around or going BOO! in the night.
The author presents a supernatural tale that also dances on the edge of a vampire novel—though this book defies conventional definitions of that horror subgenre. Instead of the classic fanged creatures lurking in shadows, we encounter a malevolent entity driven by an insatiable hunger, mirroring the brutality and desperate thirst for human blood seen in creatures less like Stoker’s romanticized Dracula and more similar to the violent bloodsuckers in Steve Niles and Ben Templesmith’s 30 Days of Night, a supernatural vampire comic book series that the author mentions in the novel. And like the movie of the same name, it’s awesome!
I was able to connect easily to Sam’s character for a variety of reasons. I’ve also experienced a breakup with a boyfriend (well, several before I met my husband—but who’s counting?!). And like me, Sam’s a fan of pop culture horror and the macabre, and we both love comic books, though he’s more specifically drawn to the graphic novel format of those narratives.
It’s these humanizing traits Fletcher includes that truly create three-dimensional characters. The author skillfully weaves these qualities not only into Sam but also into a compelling cast of characters that feels authentic and relatable. Through their fears, hopes, and quirks, each character is imbued with a vivid personality that resonates with the reader. Like Sam, Patrick is a figure who leaves a lasting impression.
Despite being unaware of its origins, Sam acknowledges his growing, mysterious urge to consume blood and fights against it, but the house’s dark influence is relentless. And when the eerie house compelling him to commit unspeakably horrific acts starts to make Sam feel better emotionally, how does he reconcile these vile actions taken against his moral compass, his humanity, diminishing as it is?
I’ve always found the struggle of transformation to be a make-it-or-break-it component for these types of horror narratives. If I don’t feel the fear, conflict, anger, frustration, and eventual hopelessness within the character moving away from humanity, I generally can’t engage with the emotional impact of the story as a whole. Here, I bought it!
I have to mention what a great play on words the title is, in conjunction with vampire lore and the physical counting of the ticking. I love clever, double-meaning titles.
In concert with his previous work, including the phenomenal Raven’s Creek, David-Jack Fletcher has established himself as a luminary in the realm of contemporary Queer Horror Fiction with his latest novel, The Count. This gripping story unfolds through a vibrant tapestry of diverse and compelling characters, many of whom are LGBTQ. Their unique stories, including the often dreadful fates of some, intertwine, adding depth and richness to the narrative while highlighting the complexities of queer identity and desire within the framework of horror.
