Izzy Von’s Sequel, 'I Collect Vile Things', Is Thought-Provoking Exercise In Brutal Horror

We’re all haunted by the past. Regrets and failings, the near-misses and might-have-beens. The trauma of abuse, too, whether it be emotional, mental, or physical, can linger long after the deeds themselves are done. There are many ways to deal with our personal ghosts; some seek solace in drugs or alcohol, while others choose to ignore the pain, unknowingly entrapping themselves in a cycle in which the abused are destined to become future abusers.

The strong among us acknowledge their traumas and face them, through therapy, support groups, or counseling. But while confronting past hurts can ultimately heal, the journey towards catharsis can be fraught with danger. Excavating buried psychological wounds is akin to opening Pandora’s Box; once the metaphorical demons are loose, they are difficult, if not impossible, to put back.

Horror author Izzy Von explored the effects of trauma in last year’s literary sensory assault, The Jetty, a novel whose sequel, I Collect Vile Things, or, Don’t Fuck With A Transwoman From Texas With A Gun 2 advances the ultra-violent saga in surprising new directions.

Transgender woman Penelope has endured much in the previous year. Renting a seaside bungalow to cope with the emotional fallout of a shattered marriage and the lingering childhood harm inflicted by her bigoted father, she fell prey to a demon-worshiping cult that used the jetty attached to her bungalow as multidimensional doorway. Unwilling to submit to the cult’s directive to join their ranks and bequeathed with astonishing restorative abilities due to a shard of altar stone inadvertently becoming lodged in her ankle, Penelope broke free and, armed only with a knife, her trusty .357 Magnum and a handful of bullets, learned the secrets of her demonic captor and traversed space/time to bring the fight to her enemies.

Having lost a foot in the battle and no longer imbued with a healing factor, Penelope now leads a double life waging a clandestine mercenary war on the nether-realms. Her latest job comes from Goran, a shady underworld figure whose interests run to the decidedly morbid. The object he most covets is a cooking pot once owned (and used) by notorious cannibal Albert Fish that’s in the possession of an otherwordly demon queen. Penelope accepts the mission, and after assembling an arsenal of weapons, she must fight her way through yet another secret sect in order to gain access to a painting that functions as an inter-dimensional gateway. But this is only the precursor to the real struggle; once Penelope finally arrives in the hellscape Goran has sent her to, she must contend with a host of unearthly beasts, nigh-invulnerable devils, and creatures from her darkest nightmares. Can she defy the horrors of her mission, or has Penelope taken on more than she’s bargained for?

There’s an astonishing array of ideas at play in I Collect Vile Things. Elements of science fiction, true crime, and even outright fantasy are interwoven in evermore complex layers throughout the novel’s narrative. Advanced real-world theories about time dilation and travel, parallel worlds, cellular regeneration, cybernetics, and artificial intelligence rub shoulders with more fantastic fictional concepts such as the use of angel skin as a form of impenetrable armor. Fans of Penelope’s initial adventure will find satisfaction with the amount of physical damage Von dishes out; bodies are dismembered and reassembled with hyper-detailed aplomb, but the splatter-flick brutality of The Jetty isn’t the focus here so much as mind-boggling intrigues and character interaction. The ways Penelope now handles her trauma reveals how much the prior novel’s events have shaped her mindset, and she meets challenges head-on with confidence, humor, and plentiful ammunition.

While the book’s third act loses some of the energy of its well-orchestrated build-up, Von quickly rebounds for an impressive—and impressively gory—climax that rivals anything seen in The Jetty. Though it’s overall execution is more quirky and less violent than its predecessor, I Collect Vile Things is nonetheless a thought-provoking exercise that earns a well-earned 3.5 (out of 5) on my Fang Scale. Here’s hoping Penelope’s demon-hunting adventures continue in further volumes. The world needs her brand of no-holds-barred heroism now more than ever.