A ship adrift at sea, a seaside campsite void of campers, a swimming pool with a surface as still as glass. These are only a few of the settings for Adam Nevill’s collection of short stories, Wyrd And Other Derelictions. Each story offers a distinct and unique nightmare tied together via two haunting details; there is no one left and “we are not alone”.
In less than 100 pages Nevill captures the calm and serene nightmare of desolation seven times over with a deftness most cannot capture in the length of a novel. Reminiscent of the great mystery surrounding events such as the Mary Celeste or Roanoke, Wyrd offers a cold perspective on places after otherworldly cataclysmic events touch down, dishing out a healthy dose of existential and cosmic horror.
Strange tracks, swift shadows, and bloody remnants are the readers’ clues to the terrible happenings that preceded the window we are afforded into these worlds which leads into what might be a turn-off to some. As there are no people, there are no characters to be developed or to view the state of the world through. I could see this deterring some, but the tightness of the writing and the generally short length of the stories make sure that the prose never sags under its own weight.
It’s the closest I’ve found a written work come to scattered world-building found in the Dark Souls series of games, where information is doled out only to those willing to plumb its depths. In Wyrd, your own darkness is left to fill the void of what might have brought someone to partake in such profane activities that would call forth the horrors held within.
My only “critique” of the work as a whole is something I tend to think of as more personal taste than something that speaks to the actual quality. It is that sometimes I wish there was even more left to the imagination in what the horrid flashes provide us. There are times where Nevill will point out something specifically as “pagan” even after so eloquently painting a picture of that very feeling without being so direct. There are other times where he will directly ask a question of “was this for some ritual” well after I had already asked and deduced for myself that is, indeed, what was happening. Again, I don’t want to hold this as a strict negative, as it doesn’t break the bleak atmosphere, but was more of a small annoyance.
My personal favorites of the collection were Hippocampus, Enlivened, and Monument, but every entry offers a new, terrible set of secrets to stumble upon. While Wyrd works very well as a stand-alone piece, it also stands as a great sister read to his previous novel, The Reddening. If you find you enjoyed one of these books, but have not read the other, you’ll find similarities is in the horror used and images called forth.
Not since my first brush with Lovecraft have I seen the fear of a great unknowable force happening upon humanity so well captured. I recommended The Reddening and I also recommend you pick up this collection as well. Perhaps for some cozy reading, alone at night.
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