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Horrorstor: A Novel Paperback – Illustrated, September 23, 2014
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Something strange is happening at the Orsk furniture superstore in Cleveland, Ohio. Every morning, employees arrive to find broken Kjerring bookshelves, shattered Glans water goblets, and smashed Liripip wardrobes. Sales are down, security cameras reveal nothing, and store managers are panicking.
To unravel the mystery, three employees volunteer to work a nine-hour dusk-till-dawn shift. In the dead of the night, they’ll patrol the empty showroom floor, investigate strange sights and sounds, and encounter horrors that defy the imagination.
- Print length240 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherQuirk Books
- Publication dateSeptember 23, 2014
- Dimensions7.36 x 0.6 x 8.73 inches
- ISBN-109781594745263
- ISBN-13978-1594745263
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Editorial Reviews
Review
“Disarming.”—The Wall Street Journal
“Wildly inventive...Hendrix delivers both a palm-sweating horror story and a laugh-out-loud satire of retail.”—Esquire
“Highly giftable.”—Buzzfeed
“Hendrix conjures up some wonderfully gruesome imagery.”—Nerdist
“An inventive, hilarious haunted house tale.”—Bustle
“Hendrix’s one-of-a-kind novel is an innovative hybrid of ghost story and satire, at once clever, gruesome, and hilarious.”—Amazon Book Review
“If you’ve ever been frustrated trying to put together furniture from IKEA, you’ll get a laugh out of Hendrix’s spoof mystery.”—New York Post
“Hendrix is an engaging writer.”—Santa Fe New Mexican
“A clever little horror story...[and] a treat for fans of The Evil Dead or Zombieland, complete with affordable solutions for better living.”—Kirkus Reviews
“A fun horror novel.”—Library Journal
“A very clever ghost story.”—Booklist
“The book’s packaging as a catalog—complete with illustrations of increasingly sinister-looking furniture with faux Scandinavian names—gives it a charmingly oddball allure.”—Publishers Weekly
More praise for Grady Hendrix:
“National treasure Grady Hendrix follows his classic account of a haunted IKEA-like furniture showroom, Horrorstor (2014), with a nostalgia-soaked ghost story, My Best Friend’s Exorcism.”—The Wall Street Journal, on My Best Friend’s Exorcism
“Pure, demented delight.”—The New York Times Book Review, on Paperbacks from Hell
“Terrific... Sharply written... [My Best Friend’s Exorcism] makes a convincing case for [Hendrix’s] powers as a sharp observer of human behavior.”—The A.V. Club, on My Best Friend’s Exorcism
“Hendrix’s darkest novel yet will leave readers begging for an encore.”—Booklist, starred review, on We Sold Our Souls
“A true appreciation of the genre.”—Los Angeles Times, on Paperbacks from Hell
“Campy. Heartfelt. Horrifying.”—Minnesota Public Radio, on My Best Friend’s Exorcism
“Clever, heartfelt, and get-under-your-skin unnerving.”—Fangoria, on My Best Friend’s Exorcism
“A good, creepy, music-tinged thriller.”—CNET, on We Sold Our Souls
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
But every morning, five days a week (seven during the holidays), they dragged themselves here, to the one thing in their lives that never changed, the one thing they could count on come rain, or shine, or dead pets, or divorce: work.
Orsk was the all-American furniture superstore in Scandinavian drag, offering well-designed lifestyles at below-Ikea prices, and its forward-thinking slogan promised “a better life for the everyone.” Especially for Orsk shareholders, who trekked to company headquarters in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, every year to hear how their chain of Ikea knockoff stores was earning big returns. Orsk promised customers “the everything they needed” in the every phase of their lives, from Balsak cradles to Gutevol rocking chairs. The only thing it didn’t offer was coffins. Yet.
Orsk was an enormous heart pumping 318 partners—228 full-time, 90 part-time—through its ventricles in a ceaseless circular flow. Every morning, floor partners poured in to swipe their IDs, power up their computers, and help customers size the perfect Knäbble cabinets, find the most comfortable Müskk beds, and source exactly the right Lågniå water glasses. Every afternoon, replenishment partners flowed in and restocked the Self-Service Warehouse, pulled the picks, refilled the impulse bins, and hauled pallets onto the Market Floor. It was a perfect system, precision-engineered to offer optimal retail functionality in all 112 Orsk locations across North America and in its thirty-eight locations around the world.
But on the first Thursday of June at 7:30 a.m., at Orsk Location #00108 in Cuyahoga County, Ohio, this well-calibrated system came grinding to a halt.
The trouble started when the card reader next to the employee entrance gave up the ghost. Store partners arrived and piled up against the door in a confused chaotic crowd, helplessly waving their IDs over the scanner until Basil, the deputy store manager, appeared and directed them all to go around the side of the building to the customer entrance.
Customers entered Orsk through a towering two-story glass atrium and ascended an escalator to the second floor, where they began a walk of the labyrinthine Showroom floor designed to expose them to the Orsk lifestyle in the optimal manner, as determined by an army of interior designers, architects, and retail consultants. Only here was yet another problem: the escalator was running down instead of up. Floor partners shoved their way into the atrium and came to a baffled halt, unsure what to do next. IT partners jammed up behind them, followed by a swarm of post-sales partners, HR partners, and cart partners. Soon they were all packed in butt to gut and spilling out the double doors.
Amy spotted the human traffic jam from across the parking lot as she power-walked toward the crowd, a soggy cup of coffee leaking in one hand.
“Not now,” she thought. “Not today.”
She’d bought the coffee cup at the Speedway three weeks ago because it promised unlimited free refills and Amy needed to stretch her $1.49 as far as it would go. This was as far as it went. As she stared in dismay at the mass of partners, the bottom of her cup finally gave up and let go, dumping coffee all over her sneakers. Amy didn’t even notice. She knew that a crowd meant a problem, and a problem meant a manager, and this early in the day a manager meant Basil. She could not let Basil see her. Today she had to be Basil Invisible.
Matt lurked on the edge of the semicircle, dressed in his usual black hoodie. He was glumly eating an Egg McMuffin and squinting painfully in the morning sun.
“What happened?” Amy asked.
“They can’t open the prison, so we can’t do our time,” he said, picking crumbs from his enormous hipster beard.
“What about the employee entrance?”
“Busted.”
“So how do we clock in?”
“Don’t be in such a hurry,” Matt said, trying to suck a strand of cheese off the mass of hair surrounding his mouth. “There’s nothing waiting inside but retail slavery, endless exploitation, and personal subjugation to the whims of our corporate overlords.”
If Amy squinted, she could dimly see Basil’s tall, gawky silhouette through the front windows, trying to direct the human traffic jam by waving his spaghetti-noodle arms in the air. Getting even this close to him sent a cold bolt of fear through her stomach, but his back was turned. Maybe she had a chance.
“Good thoughts, Matt,” she said.
Seizing her moment, Amy ninjaed her way through the crowd, ducking behind backs, stepping on toes, and slipping into open spaces. She entered the atrium and was immediately enveloped in the soothing embrace of Orsk—where it was always the perfect temperature, where the rooms were always perfectly lit, where the piped-in music was always the perfect volume, where it was always perfectly calm. But this morning the air had an edge to it, the faint scent of something rancid.
“I didn’t think this escalator could run in reverse,” Basil was saying to an operations partner who was pounding on the emergency stop button to no effect. “Is this even mechanically possible?”
Amy didn’t stick around to find out. Her sole objective for the day—and for the next several days—was to avoid Basil at all costs. As long as he didn’t see her, she reasoned, he couldn’t fire her.
Product details
- ASIN : 1594745269
- Publisher : Quirk Books; Illustrated edition (September 23, 2014)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 240 pages
- ISBN-10 : 9781594745263
- ISBN-13 : 978-1594745263
- Item Weight : 1.09 pounds
- Dimensions : 7.36 x 0.6 x 8.73 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #21,299 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #34 in Ghost Thrillers
- #196 in Humorous Fantasy (Books)
- #2,708 in Suspense Thrillers
- Customer Reviews:
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About the author

New York Times bestselling author Grady Hendrix makes up lies and sells them to people. His novels include HORRORSTÖR about a haunted IKEA, MY BEST FRIEND'S EXORCISM, which is basically "Beaches" meets "The Exorcist", WE SOLD OUR SOULS, a heavy metal horror epic, THE SOUTHERN BOOK CLUB'S GUIDE TO SLAYING VAMPIRES, and THE FINAL GIRL SUPPORT GROUP, coming on July 13, 2021. He's also the author of PAPERBACKS FROM HELL, an award-winning history of the horror paperback boom of the Seventies and Eighties. He wrote the screenplay for, MOHAWK, a horror flick about the War of 1812, and SATANIC PANIC about a pizza delivery woman fighting rich Satanists. You can discover more ridiculous facts about him at www.gradyhendrix.com.
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But there’s also a place in my heart for a modern, clean, brightly-lit building that’s nevertheless crawling with the unquiet spirits of the dead. The suburban home built over an Indian graveyard, the supermarket with bloody handprints appearing mysteriously on the freezer cases, the trendy nightclub plagued by unusual deaths and fashionable vampires. Horror writers love this stuff, too — you can find horror wrapped around modern suburban and retail settings in films like “Poltergeist” and “Dawn of the Dead” (and many other early-outbreak zombie movies) and in books and stories like Stephen King’s “The Mist,” Anne Rivers Siddons’ “The House Next Door,” and Mark Z. Danielewski’s “House of Leaves.”
And there’s also this book, “Horrorstör,” a short horror novel (with strong humor elements) written by Grady Hendrix. Its focus is on a haunting at an IKEA-style big box retail store.
The lead character in the story is Amy, a slacker in a thoroughly dead-end job working retail at ORSK, a furniture and housewares store designed from the ground up to look and feel like an IKEA store. It has the same winding pathway through the store, the same “Magic Tool” required to put every piece of furniture together, the same style of faux-Scandinavian names for all the products. Amy wants to transfer back to the ORSK store she used to work at, mainly because she thinks she’s about to get fired by Basil, an assistant manager and gung-ho ORSK fanboy. But as it turns out, Basil actually wants to ask Amy and another co-worker, Ruth Anne, an older long-term employee who lives for her job, loves stuffed animals, and is adored by everyone on the staff, to take on a special duty — patrolling the store at night.
You see, the store has been suffering unusual vandalism. Some of the glassware has been broken, furniture has been soiled, and there are odd smells in the building. Basil wants Amy and Ruth Anne to join him on a secret late-night patrol, after everyone has gone home, to see if anyone is breaking into the building. They soon find some interesting problems. There are rats in the kitchen showcases, even though there’s no food there and no water hookups. Everyone keeps getting lost, which might make sense if they were just customers and not employees trained to find their way around the store quickly. And the mysterious grafitti messages in the restrooms referring ominously to “the Beehive” are multiplying rapidly.
And they do find some unexpected interlopers. Matt and Trinity are a couple of fellow co-workers at ORSK who have sneaked into the store because they thinks there are ghosts in the building and want to make a reality-TV ghost hunter show. And there’s also a homeless man, Carl, who has been secretly living in the store for a few weeks.
Trinity has an idea. She still thinks there are ghosts in the building, and what’s the best way to contact ghosts? Let’s everyone hold a seance!
And then everything goes straight to hell.
Can Amy and her coworkers survive the night shift at ORSK? Can they escape the store? Or are they doomed to toil forever in the stone walls and iron restraints of the Beehive?
I really enjoyed this book. I burned my way through it as quickly as I could, and a couple nights, where I made the mistake of reading it too close to bedtime, it actually kept me up late. I did think that the very best parts of the novel were fairly early on, when the scares were subtle and more creepy than heart-stopping. The seasoned employees getting lost in their own store? That was weirdly realistic — you could imagine it happening, but you could also see why it would be really unnerving. The odd sounds after the store closes, combined with the sudden unfamiliarity of the environment of the store was also spooky — and definitely familiar for anyone who’s ever had to work late in their office, where darkness and emptiness make the comfortable surroundings feel strange and dangerous.
Even better than that was the graffiti in the restroom. The dozens of scrawled names and scratched-out years, all referencing the mysterious Beehive, feel intensely eerie, a perfect element to place in a modern retail ghost story. There are also some very effective moments when the employees discover that the purely decorative doors in the showcases now open into dank, cavernous hallways leading deep into the earth.
And the seance may have been a monumentally stupid move on the part of the characters, but the way they did it was an original and wonderful thing to have in a horror novel. It’s simultaneously terrifying — because you know what’s going to happen — and hilarious — because you know what’s going to happen.
Once the Big Bad makes his appearance, and especially when he captures Amy for the first time, the story starts moving away from being a ghost story and edging more into torture porn. The story shows some serious cracks in this section, in part because it’s too long — I just don’t enjoy reading multiple pages about someone being strapped into a torture chair that tightens to the point where she loses sensation in her limbs and can barely draw a breath. (This may also indicate that I have never enjoyed torture porn.) But it’s also a bit too short — we’re told that Amy’s mind breaks almost entirely not long after she’s strapped in, to the point where Stockholm Syndrome sets in and she starts worshiping her captor. And then, when she’s released from confinement, it’s not too many more pages before her mind has completely recovered to its previously healthy state — and even improved, as she’s much braver and more resourceful for the rest of the novel.
One of the real selling points of this novel is the fantastic graphic design by Andie Reid and illustrations by Michael Rogalski. The book cover looks like one of the big, glossy IKEA design catalogs — with a few subtle and not-so-subtle differences to give some visual cues to the horrors within — and each chapter opens with a page from the fictional ORSK catalog spotlighting one of their products, complete with IKEA-style art, a faux-Scandinavian name, and upbeat flavor text. But after the supernatural terrors start climbing out of the woodwork after the seance, all the featured furniture gets replaced with medieval torture devices. It makes the story a lot more fun and a lot funnier, while still giving a nice dose of the chills to readers.
For folks unfamiliar with the premise of the book, it deals with an IKEA-type box store that is haunted, although the employees aren't aware of it. Yet. What they are aware of is somebody sneaking in at night and vandalizing the store in little ways that wouldn't be noticeable unless you stumbled upon it. Like poop on one of the display beds. Since Corporate is planning a visit, the General Manager has tasked one of the floor managers with putting together a team to spend the night in the store with the hopes of apprehending the intruder. Enter Basil, the manager; Amy, a sales rep who gets by by doing bare minimum and avoiding her supervisor (Basil) as much as possible; and Ruth Anne, an elderly dedicated employee who has manned a register for a good number of years and someone who everybody (staff and customers) adores. During their first tour of the floors, Amy and Ruth Anne stumble across "happy, super-popular, high-energy" Trinity and her boyfriend of the moment, Matt. We get the impression that they are just finishing up some business before getting down to business (if you know what I mean, wink, wink), which is trying to film some footage of some ghosts, which they plan on showing to the networks with the hopes of getting their own ghost hunting show. Needless to say, all hell breaks loose, but not before they locate the intruder, who Trinity is convinced is a ghost. What follows is a lot of screaming, a lot of running, and a lot of playing hide-and-seek with an army of ghosts haunting the store as the group tries to make it out of the store alive.
On the outside, it doesn't sound like a bad book, but it's not what I was looking for. I wanted funny ha-ha ghosts, and instead I got scary EEEEEK!!! ghosts, so you'll have to excuse me if I feel a little disappointed. I know, get over it, right? I'll try.
While I try to do just that, let's discuss the book itself. While effective on its own, it fails when you compare it to other books (and movies) that tell a similar story. And when I say it fails, I mean it doesn't deliver anything new, which, I admit, is hard to do when you are dealing with one of the oldest tropes in the horror genre. While reading it, you can't help but notice the influences of films like Poltergeist and The Haunting. Recently I read another haunted house novel, The Siren and the Specter by Jonathan Janz, which really creeped me out. Again, it didn't offer anything ground-breakingly new, but what it did have was atmosphere, and while reading it, I actually caught myself starting at every sound and getting up to turn up the lights. Toy Box, a film I recently watched, attempted to take the haunted house a step further, and the creators gave us a haunted motor home. And I felt that was missing from Horrorstör. You get the impression that Hendrix was more concerned with the chain of events than developing a genuinely creepy atmosphere. And he tended to rely on the tried and true rather than risk trying something new. In so doing, he gives us a supernatural adventure story rather than a creepy (or funny) ghost story.
His characters are quirky when we are introduced to them, which provided ample opportunity to venture into the Ha-Ha territory, and while he may have tested the waters by sticking a toe in, he refused to take the plunge and kept us in the EEEEK! territory. And normally I prefer when an author keeps us within the mindset of one central character, Amy turns out to be a rather blah! character once the story gets going, and you come close to not liking her because she's only out for herself. About three quarters of the way through the book, she redeems herself. She's still blah, but not nearly as selfish as she was in the beginning. I can't help but wonder, though, what would have happened if somebody like Trinity was the central character, or if we had the opportunity to see things from the POV of other characters.
So is Horrorstör worth reading? Despite the issues I had with it, it was a fun, fast-paced read (not as great as everybody made it out to be, but enjoyable enough even if it wasn't funny), and if you're looking for a way to pass the weekend, this is an ideal book. However, if you're looking for something to chill you late at night, I think you'd do better looking elsewhere.
Top reviews from other countries
Mais além, o romance ganha força ao comparar essa loja - a Orsk, uma espécie de Ikea, ou Etna, Leroy Merlin etc. - à prisão panóptica que havia naquele mesmo lugar, séculos antes: o trabalho repetitivo, sempre sob supervisão, análogo à escravidão, apagando individualidades, sobre diferentes pretextos - no caso da prisão, os "penitentes" precisavam ser curados de seus pecados; no caso da loja, os funcionários se submetiam à máquina capitalista pois precisavam sobreviver. E mal conseguiam, como no caso da protagonista (que curiosamente (?) se chama Amy, mesmo nome da protagonista de Superstore), sempre individada.
Esse foi meu terceiro livro do Hendrix (gostei dos 3) e cada vez mais creio que ele - que por alguma razão ainda não é tão reconhecido (talvez após um de seus romances ser inevitavelmente adaptado, isso mude) - é um dos grandes nomes da literatura de terror contemporânea.


















