Dark Room
Author: Tom Becker
Publication Date: September 10th 2015
Publisher: Stripes Publishig
~A copy was provided by the publisher in exchange for an honest review~
When Darla and her feckless dad, Hopper, move to Saffron Hills, Darla hopes it'll be a new start for the both of them. But she stands no chance of fitting in with the image-obsessed in-crowd at her new school. Then one of her classmates is brutally killed when taking a photo of herself. A murder Darla herself predicted in a bloody vision. When more teens die in a similar fashion it appears that a serial killer is on the loose - the 'Selfie Slayer'. Darla alone is convinced that the murderer might not be flesh and blood.
Dark Room is the latest instalment in the Red Eye series,
and it seems that I’ve been loving every other book in it, and although I have
a few little issues with it, it was a damn good one. Dark Room is very standard
for YA mystery/crime, it follows the same formula and isn’t anything new, that
being said, the added use of technology and a surprising killer made the Dark
Room stand out.
Dark Room is written in third person, which leads to my
first issue, the mostly always issue I have with third person, while it’s a
chance it give us a broader look at the whole story, we can learn so much more from
it, but I can almost never form a
connection to the characters, and unfortunately, that was the case with the Dark
Room. It’s not the characters fault, they were nice and relatable, like Darla,
but if somewhat 2D, like the co-characters of The Dark Room, I didn’t feel like
there was much behind them, like Sasha and Frank, but they did their job in the
story, so it didn’t bother me that much.
Dark Room turns social media against its victims, the ‘Angel
Taker’ likes taking beautiful photos and art, and the Angel Taker, in its own
warped twisted view, thinks a dead beauty queen is more beautiful than a live
one. And now, the Angel Taker is creating a new project. The Angel Taker
chooses the ‘Angels’ through their ‘selfies’, and subtlety, their narcissism.
The ‘visions’ Darla gets about the Angel Taker and its victims
are eerie and amp up the creepy factor, and it’s the perfect atmosphere. What
was great about The Dark Room though, is that I didn’t figure out who the Angel
Taker was until three quarters through it, and if you know me and serial killer
books, I usually get it right, and while I did get it right, I so wasn’t
expecting that twist. So thanks for
that, Dark Room.
If you’ve been reading and loving the Red Eye series, you’re
going to love the latest instalment, Dark Room, it’s creepy, it’s bloody, it
has a damn right good twist, and honestly, I think this is my favourite.
Rating: 4/5
Extract
The girl
stopped by a large framed photograph. It was a family portrait, taken a couple
of years earlier: Mom and Dad sitting together on a couch, their hands clasped,
whilst Walter and his sister stood dutiful guard either side of them.
“The West family, in all their glory,”
he said dryly. “Terrible, isn’t it?”
“It’s sweet!” she replied. “Don’t you
like photographs?”
“Actually, I do – when I’m not in
them.” Walter paused. “In fact I have my own studio here in the house. Would
you like to see it?”
“Sure,” she said politely.
He led her out of the dining room and
along a corridor, moving quickly now. Stopping at a door beneath the main
staircase, he pushed it open to reveal a set of narrow steps leading down into
the basement. When he gestured eagerly at the girl to go down them, she
hesitated.
“No light?”
“The bulb on the stairs needs
changing,” he said apologetically. “Keep hold of the handrail and you’ll be
fine.”
A little reluctantly, she started down
the stairs. Walter closed the door behind him, plunging them into darkness.
Sensing the girl’s nervousness as she edged towards the basement, he began to
chatter in what he hoped was a reassuring way.
“It kinda sucks
that I have to come down here,” he said. “I told Mom and Dad that I needed a
better room but they told me this was the only space they had. I said, OK,
let’s move my sister down here and I can use her bedroom, but I got outvoted.”
The girl didn’t laugh, too busy
concentrating on navigating the steps through the gloom. When they reached the
basement floor Walter slipped past her, feeling his way over to the wall.
“Wait, let me get the light.”
His fingers closed upon the switch, and
he flicked it on. Bright, safe light poured into the basement. The girl found
herself staring into a dusty, full-length mirror leaning against the wall – she
jumped, startled by her own reflection.
“You OK?” asked Walter.
She laughed nervously. “Sorry. I scared
myself there.”
The girl looked around. The basement
had been converted into a makeshift studio, centered around a modelling space
surrounded by flashlights on stands and a white screen backdrop. Expensive
cameras perched on tripods, lenses glinting in the light. Framed photographs
covered the walls.
“Phew!” she said, placing a hand over
her heart. “For a minute there I was expecting some kind of dungeon.”
“I clean up the bloodied corpses before
the guests come round,” Walter replied, deadpan. “Mom insists.”
The girl smiled, starting to relax a
little. She went over to the far wall to examine the photographs. They were a
series of landscape shots of the woods around Saffron Hills. Dawn sunlight
shimmered through the pine trees.
“These are beautiful,” she said.
“Thank you,” said Walter. “The hard
part is getting up early enough to catch the light.”
“You should become a professional.
People would pay good money for these.”
“Maybe. I don’t know how many more
tasteful landscapes the world needs.”
As the girl peered closer at the
photographs, an idea occurred to Walter. Quietly he picked up a camera and
focused it on her. He waited until he had framed her face – unguarded,
absorbed, biting on her lip in a slightly pensive way – and then he took her
picture.
“Hey, quit it!” she laughed.
“Come on, just a couple of photos for
my portfolio!” He fired off another before the girl could protest. “You look
great!”
She laughed – flattered, but trying not to show it. Walter meant what he said. She really was very pretty, in a
naive and utterly natural way. Like a startled deer in the woods.
“I’ve just finished my latest album,”
he told her, his heart beginning to beat a little faster as he trained the
camera on her face. “Take a look, I think you’ll like them.”
“This one, you mean?” she replied,
going over to the desk and pointing at the embossed album.
Walter waited until he had the shot.
“Perfect,” he said quietly.
The girl opened the album.
Crystal’s ruined face stared back at
her. The beauty queen’s blue eyes had been dulled, her long blond hair matted
with blood and the top of her skull crushed almost beyond recognition.
The
girl screamed.
As
she reeled away from the photo album, her hands over her face, Walter’s finger
clicked rapidly on the shutter button, firing away like it was the trigger of a
gun. His pulse was racing, his heart thundering in his chest. He was so excited
he could barely breathe. Sternly he forced himself to concentrate, to focus on
capturing the screaming girl.
“What
have you done?” she gasped.
“I
told you I was bored of landscapes,” Walter said.
