We’re on the fourth entry of a horror franchise that doesn’t exist. Grace is a teenager who has survived her family being murdered by genetically engineered cannibal sluts. Now she finds herself on Slut Island where her great aunt Dr. Amy Hartnell is studying the slut monsters in order to put an end to the death and terror.
Dark bleatings, my (I assume) curious tribe. Firstly, apologies for my graffiti on the book cover but it was the only way I felt comfortable presenting it here, because I’m a bit of a prude. It might surprise you, due to what I just said, that I was pretty entertained by this novella. This is not a sequel or a part of a series, by the way. There is no CS 1, 2, or 3. It’s a kind of meta joke.
Firstly, I absolutely hate the word ‘slut’ but its comedic overuse as a noun and a statement of descriptive fact is, in my opinion, hilarious in the context of this story. I didn’t find this to be a perfect read as there is some stuff that isn’t to my tastes, especially towards the end, but the concept really amused me and for the most part, I was chuckling my way through the book.
Grace moves to Slut Island to see her Aunt, who is some sort of scientist working with the…er…Cannibal Sluts. The CS’s are a cannibalistic breed of human that seem to have one objectifying purpose, and one quite dangerous favourite hobby. The word ‘slut’ is not thrown around as a dehumanising insult in this universe, but is rather a specific term for this group of people in particular, which I believe serves as an ironic parallel because the ‘regular’ people in this book aren’t exactly chaste. There’s a tongue in cheek irony to the entire thing. Grace is disturbed to find one of the CS’s roaming somewhat freely (they’re usually confined), and starts learning about the compound.
I wasn’t sure where this was going for a while, in terms of plot, but the writing was always cracking me. Here are some examples:
“The right wall was stacked high with metal cages. Most were empty. Some, however, were very much not. Those things…the cannibal sluts…sat in them. They were nude–beautiful, evil.”
“I’m her assistant, Ncuti. It’s pronounced like shoot by with a y at the end. Of course, you just heard me pronounce it when I said it.”
There was a turning point near the end where I suddenly remembered I was reading extreme horror, which despite the title and concept had mostly been pretty tame by extreme horror standards. It got icky, it got gross, it got…well…extreme.
And then, there was another turning point, one so bizarre that I was rendered speechless, except for my many utterances of, “What?!” We’re suddenly in a different perspective, that of neither a human or cannibal slut. We’re suddenly in a whole new world of sci-fi territory. Just when I was wondering what the hell was happening and if the author decided to wrap things up really fast all of a sudden, there was a meta joke about that very thing.
I’m not the ideal audience for a book like this because I mostly ignore this subgenre, but for the most part, I was quite surprised by how much I enjoyed it. There’s a very particular type of silliness that I hardly ever come across, but it’s my favourite, and I found it here.
Check the trigger warnings for sure because this definitely isn’t for everyone, but there’s definitely a readership for it! If you’d like to check out the book or the author, I’ve popped some links below for you:
Bleeeat!
Happy Goat Horror 
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