By David J. Schow
Lucas Ellington's daughter, Kristen, is overwhelmed to loss of life at a rock live performance held by means of "Whip Hand", the baddest band round. Returning to the realm after a 12 months in psychiatric care, Lucas comes to a decision to kill the band contributors one by means of one.
Readers of this primary novel will comprehend why Schow wins awards for his horror tales. Lucas Ellington seeks to avenge his daughter's demise at a rock live performance by means of destroying band participants one after the other. The final one left alive is compelled to reside as much as a macho photo via stalking his stalker in go back. Lucas is a sympathetic personality at the start, yet more and more his craziness is printed. This novel bargains with the darkish facet of rock song and media exploitation yet, in a bigger feel, it explores what revenge does to the avenger. photograph intercourse, violence, and vulgarity might flip a few readers off, yet this can be in a different way strongly urged for horror collections.
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Extra resources for The Kill Riff
He was once blown up via the fires of Hell, and others have died violent deaths. Violence begets violence, and people singers sing with devil now. we provide adolescents a substitute for damnation. Our curiosity isn't really to seem as lovers destroying different people's estate, yet to avoid wasting souls in anyway! Jesus Christ is the king-not Elvis, no longer the Beatles, no longer this Bruce Springstein or any heavy steel workforce. " He set his jaw for the digital camera, made up our minds, as immovable because the Rock. because it grew to become out, the list bashing pulled no assurance in any respect. list shop vendors, FM deejays, or even reverends from different neighborhood church buildings have been all given equivalent time. All condemned this actual minister's fascistic strategies to 1 measure or one other. Lucas couldn't keep in mind the man's identify. The gyrating functionality lower than had blurred ahead of his eyes. Had he all started all that fuss together with his easy, spray-painted diversion? Bunch of damned nuts. but the following he was once, squatting within the rafters, getting ready to do God's paintings. Or somebody's. He established Jackal Reichmann in his crosshairs back. This deed used to be now not on behalf of any god, any intangible spirit born of superstitious worry. This used to be for Kristen, born of his loins, whom he had enjoyed… and whom the capering greenback within the white leather-based panties had helped, in in spite of the fact that tiny a degree, to erase from this international. His index finger teased the set off. This time he may pull the set off with out blinking. fast, he sighted Fozzetto back. He could hit the bassist first, for the reason that Reichmann was once put in at the back of his drums and used to be no longer as cellular. within the scope, tinted purple, he may perhaps see the smoke hoses leaking wisps of white fog, the dry-ice cloud hide that will flood the level and rework it right into a primordial tarn lower than disguise of the darkness provided by way of Pepper Hartz's huge solo spot. It was once virtually time. whilst the lighting fixtures snapped out, Lucas could have 3 mins to not screw every thing up. Hartz exhorted the gang with the standard conflict cries: "You wanna ROCK'N'ROLL a few extra? we are gonna get together HARDY this night! Lemme listen ya say YEAH! " He windmilled his arm and struck a difficult, harsh observe. Whaannnng!! He stroked the group and made them chant "YEAH! " with each one salvo. Fists rose, made satan horns, and back Lucas considered the Nazis. YEAH! swifter, speedier, YEAH! American audiences have been not anything if no longer syncopated-YEAH! the following music wanted their participation, and Lucas knew it'd be "Rip Me Ofl (Blow Me Down),'' one of many rowdier songs from Throw Down Your fingers. The degree strikes for-this one have been recorded indelibly in his brain. This was once the lead-in tune to Hartz's massive solo. Yeah. To Lucas' metabolism, his plugged-up ears and throbbing eyes, the track turned a towering, unstoppable migraine headache. The transferring plenty of air, driven round through heavy amplification; redefined the truth within which he moved. The grubs lower than may possibly by no means suspect the motivations of the being above, the fellow nobody may possibly see. Wasn't that the picture that the anonymous television minister had painted of his god? A will-'o-the-wisp who guided everyone's future… comes and is going like Santa Claus… his handiwork simple for all to work out, the presence itself unseen?