Gore

The harvest was supposed to be good this year.

But when something crashes into the far field, the soil of St. Gerald's County begins to breathe.

Roddy Mac-a hard-working father and farmer-only wanted to keep his family safe and his crops alive. Instead, he's unearthed a horror that crawled from the stars and took root beneath his land. It seeps through the corn, infects the cattle, and twists flesh into something wet, green, and unrecognizable.

No one believes him. The sheriff's gone missing, the neighbors have stopped answering their doors, and the ground won't stay still.

Whatever fell from the sky is hungry... and it's learning.

By the time the sun rises, the fields will run red, and St. Gerald's County will remember who fed it last.

GORE is a visceral love letter to the body-horror classics of the 80s and 90s-an unflinching descent into rural madness, alien infection, and the nightmare that grows beneath our feet.

Excerpt

What the hell is all this green sludge? Roddy wonders as he studies the pool liquid at the very bottom of the crater. Suddenly it starts bubbling up manically and releases the faint vapors that waft up into the night air. Not only is the slime more active here than in the rest of the yard, it seems to be, absorbing into the ground at an alarming rate. Roddy watches in horrified astonishment as a small pool of the goo rapidly soaks into the ground beneath it, until there's nothing left except a small puddle of emerald ichor that pops and hisses like a pan of hot oil feverishly frying a small chunk of meat. Roddy looks on in bewilderment as a small green vine like thing slowly emerges itself from inside the puddle. Roddy's eyes widen as he locks his gaze onto the tentacle as it ascends higher and higher into the humid night air. It starts to sweep and sway about cautiously, to-and-fro, in a motion reminiscent of an antennae scanning its surroundings checking for dangerous predators, or scanning for its next prey, trying to observe the environment around itself. Roddy exhales sharply as he stares at the tentacle in wide eyed astonishment as it feels around at the humid night air and the damp ground around it, methodically bobbing around like an attached feeler. His fingers dig into the soft, cool mud at the mouth of the crater . Not daring to move, forcing himself to inhale small shallow breaths into his lungs as he tries to comprehend what exactly he's witnessing here. Nothing in his forty two years as prepared him for anything quite like this. He slowly lifts his trembling hand up and pans the flashlight up to see the featureless tentacle is now pointed straight at him. Even though the vine has no eyes, no mouth, no real features at all, Roddy instinctively knows-feels even-that it's looking directly at him. The creature has realized it's no longer alone. And then to Roddy's horror the ground beneath him starts to quake.