Plot Summary
Prologue: Shadows Before Birth
Lola sits numbly in a psychiatric center, her memories fractured and haunted by images of blood, needles, and a twitching, formless fetus. Ian and her father visit, but their words are distant, filtered through Lola's fog of trauma. The question—"Is this a choice or a child?"—echoes, entwined with guilt and horror. The prologue sets the tone: motherhood is not a simple blessing, but a site of terror, ambiguity, and loss of self. Lola's sense of reality is already unstable, and the story's central question—what is being created, and at what cost?—is seeded in her mind and the reader's.
Exclusion and Longing
Ian and Lola, a childless couple in a world of parents, feel the sting of exclusion at a chaotic children's party. Their friends have drifted away, absorbed by parenthood, leaving Ian and Lola on the outside. The couple's bond is strong, but the social pressure to conform—to have a child—grows. Their sense of self is challenged by the relentless, unspoken demand to join the ranks of parents, and the pain of being left behind is palpable. The chapter explores the subtle violence of social norms and the ache of longing for connection.
The Decision to Create
After a night of vulnerability and honest conversation, Ian and Lola decide to try for a child—not out of pure desire, but as a way to reclaim their place among friends and stave off loneliness. Their decision is fraught with ambivalence, haunted by a previous abortion and fears about Lola's health. The act of creation is not romanticized; it is messy, anxious, and shadowed by the past. The couple's love is real, but so are their doubts. The chapter captures the complexity of choosing parenthood in a world that demands it.
Pregnancy's Unraveling
Lola's pregnancy is marked by physical and psychological distress. She experiences strange phenomena—scratched records, whispers, geometric patterns, and a sense of being watched. Her body becomes alien, her cravings and pains intensify, and her sense of self erodes. Ian tries to be supportive, but his own anxieties mount. Family visits bring both comfort and tension, especially with Ian's cold, enigmatic mother, Dannah, who seems to know more than she says. The pregnancy is not a time of glowing anticipation, but of unraveling, as the boundaries between reality and nightmare blur.
Hauntings and Omens
As Lola's pregnancy progresses, the couple is beset by increasingly disturbing events: glowing eyes at the window, shadowy figures, and a sense of being stalked by something inhuman. Security cameras capture nothing, but both Ian and Lola experience shared visions and dreams. The house itself feels alive, oppressive, and haunted. Family heirlooms—especially a seven-pointed star—take on ominous significance. The couple's isolation deepens, and the line between psychological distress and supernatural threat becomes indistinguishable. The pregnancy is no longer just a personal ordeal, but a cosmic one.
Family Fractures
Visits with family—Lola's loving but worried father and brother, Ian's bitter, secretive mother—reveal deep generational wounds. Dannah's cryptic gifts and veiled hostility hint at a legacy of trauma and occult knowledge. Lola's fears about her own body and the risks of childbirth for Black women are compounded by memories of her mother's abandonment. The couple's relationship is strained by guilt, resentment, and the sense that something is fundamentally wrong with the child they are bringing into the world. The family is both a source of strength and a site of fracture.
The Birth and the Rift
Lola's labor is a harrowing ordeal, marked by excruciating pain, loss of control, and a near-death experience. The birth is not a moment of joy, but of rupture—Lola's body is torn, her mind fractures, and the baby emerges in a storm of blood and trauma. Both parents experience visions of darkness, color, and ancient rituals. The child, Jonesy, is born with heterochromatic eyes and an eerie silence—he does not cry. The medical staff are unsettled. The birth marks not a beginning, but a deepening of the uncanny, as if something other than a human child has entered their lives.
The Child Who Isn't
At home, Jonesy is an unnaturally quiet, undemanding baby. He never cries, never fusses, and seems to watch his parents with unsettling intelligence. Both Ian and Lola struggle to bond with him; Lola, in particular, feels nothing but emptiness and guilt. The house is filled with gifts from Dannah, all marked with the seven-pointed star. The couple's relationship frays under the strain of sleep deprivation, depression, and the sense that their child is not really theirs—or not really a child at all. The horror of parenthood is not just exhaustion, but existential alienation.
Postpartum Dread
Lola's postpartum depression intensifies, manifesting as rage, self-harm, and dissociation. She experiences seizures, hallucinations, and blackouts. Therapy and medication offer little relief. Ian, too, is unraveling, haunted by dreams of violence and loss. The couple's attempts to seek help—from doctors, therapists, and sleep studies—are met with confusion and impotence. The house becomes a prison, the woods a place of terror. The sense of being watched, manipulated, and invaded grows. The horror is not just supernatural, but deeply psychological—a portrait of a mind and marriage under siege.
The Uncanny Boy
As Jonesy grows, his strangeness becomes undeniable. He speaks in voices not his own, displays impossible strength, and seems to manipulate reality itself—appearing in two places at once, summoning animals, and causing physical phenomena. He is both child and something else, a vessel for voices and forces beyond comprehension. The family cat, Big Ears, becomes his familiar, and even its body warps and mutates. Attempts to study or treat Jonesy fail; science is powerless. The parents' fear turns to desperation, and the question of what Jonesy really is becomes unavoidable.
The House and the Woods
The house is beset by infestations, black mold, and impossible architecture—basements that stretch on forever, doors that lock on their own, and rooms that erase all trace of Jonesy's existence. The woods teem with deer, bugs, and skinless figures. Both parents experience visions of ancient rituals, cults, and creation myths. The seven-pointed star is revealed to be a symbol of an occult order, and Dannah's true history comes to light. The family's reality is collapsing, and the horror is both cosmic and intimate—a story of generational trauma, failed parenthood, and the return of the repressed.
The Cat and the Corn
The death of Big Ears, the cat, is a turning point. Jonesy's grief and rage unleash supernatural forces—wind, voices, and a brief resurrection. The boundaries between life and death, human and animal, parent and child, are obliterated. The cornfields, a recurring symbol of fertility and sacrifice, become a site of visions and confrontations with the past. Lola's escape from the psychiatric hospital, her journey through the woods, and her final return home mark the beginning of the endgame. The family is no longer just haunted—they are the haunt.
The Sleep Study
Attempts to subject Jonesy to scientific scrutiny—sleep studies, psychological tests—yield only more confusion. He is "advanced," but inexplicable. The doctors are powerless, and the language of science gives way to myth, ritual, and prophecy. Jonesy's drawings reveal the truth: he is the skinless, golden-eyed being from his parents' nightmares, a vessel for something ancient and inhuman. The sleep study becomes a ritual of revelation, and the family's fate is sealed.
The Basement and the Black
Lola's entrapment in the basement is a literal and metaphorical descent into darkness. The walls stretch on forever, the air is thick with soot and ozone, and Lola claws at the walls until her fingernails are torn off. Jonesy's power is now undeniable—he can lock doors, warp space, and torment his mother at will. The basement is the site of ultimate horror: the place where the family's secrets, traumas, and failures are made manifest. Lola's escape is a temporary reprieve; the real confrontation is yet to come.
The Farmhouse Confrontation
Ian and Lola, armed and desperate, confront Dannah and the cult at the farmhouse. The truth is laid bare: Jonesy is not their child, but a vessel for an ancient, world-ending force. The cultists—Dannah, Dr. Sunderland, Rasheed, and others—reveal their true allegiance. The farmhouse becomes a site of cosmic horror: the ground splits, monsters emerge, and reality itself collapses. Lola, channeling her father's lessons and her own rage, fights back with violence and resolve. The confrontation is apocalyptic, and the cost is total.
Collapse and Aftermath
The farmhouse and its inhabitants are swallowed by the earth, the cult destroyed, and Jonesy's physical form obliterated. Ian and Lola escape, wounded and traumatized, to a new life in the Rockies. The world has not ended, but it has been irrevocably changed. The couple is exiled, haunted by memories, and forever marked by what they have survived. The horror is not vanquished, only buried. The story ends not with triumph, but with survival and the knowledge that some evils cannot be undone.
Exile in the Rockies
In their new home, Ian and Lola try to rebuild their lives. The past is never far away—nightmares, guilt, and the occasional glimpse of golden eyes in the woods remind them that Jonesy, or what he represented, is not truly gone. Their love endures, but it is scarred. The story closes on a note of ambiguity: the horror may be over, but the darkness waits, patient and eternal, at the edge of the world.
The Waiting Darkness
Lola, now far from Resting Hollow, senses that the story is not truly finished. The woods are alive with secrets, and the memory of Jonesy—her "vile thing"—lingers. The final image is one of watchfulness, dread, and the knowledge that some creations cannot be unmade. The horror of parenthood, of creation, and of the self is eternal. The end is only a pause.
Characters
Lola
Lola is the emotional and psychological core of the novel—a woman of color, creative and strong, but deeply scarred by trauma, loss, and the pressures of motherhood. Her relationship with Ian is passionate and real, but tested by exclusion, social pressure, and the aftermath of a previous abortion. Lola's pregnancy is a site of horror, both physical and existential; her postpartum experience is marked by depression, rage, and a sense of alienation from her own child. She is both victim and survivor, fighting to reclaim her sense of self in the face of supernatural and psychological terror. Her journey is one of descent and return, marked by moments of clarity, violence, and ultimately, a fragile peace.
Ian
Ian is Lola's partner, a teacher, and a man caught between love, fear, and helplessness. He is sensitive, intelligent, and deeply in love with Lola, but also haunted by his own family history—especially his cold, secretive mother, Dannah. Ian's desire for connection and normalcy is constantly thwarted by the uncanny events surrounding his family. He is both protector and bystander, unable to save Lola or himself from the forces at work. His psychological unraveling mirrors Lola's, and his eventual confrontation with his own origins and complicity is central to the novel's climax. Ian's journey is one of reckoning—with his mother, his child, and himself.
Jonesy
Jonesy is the "vile thing" created—a child who is both too perfect and fundamentally wrong. He is silent, watchful, and possessed of powers that defy explanation: he speaks in other voices, manipulates reality, and serves as a vessel for ancient, destructive forces. Jonesy is both victim and monster, a product of generational trauma, occult ritual, and the failures of his parents. His presence warps the world around him, erasing boundaries between life and death, self and other, human and inhuman. He is the embodiment of the novel's central horror: the terror of creation, the fear that what we bring into the world may not be what we intended.
Dannah
Ian's mother, Dannah, is a figure of cold authority and hidden knowledge. She is both a source of trauma and a key to the novel's mysteries. Her gifts—especially the seven-pointed star—are laden with occult significance, and her history is entwined with the Order of the Seven Paths, a cult devoted to cosmic creation and destruction. Dannah's motivations are ambiguous: she claims to want the best for her family, but her actions are manipulative, secretive, and ultimately destructive. She is both a victim of her own past and an agent of the novel's central horror.
Moses
Lola's father, Moses, is a source of warmth, wisdom, and stability. He represents a different kind of masculinity—nurturing, supportive, and deeply connected to the land and family. His relationship with Lola is loving but marked by the absence of her mother and the weight of generational trauma. Moses's death is a turning point in the novel, marking the collapse of the family's last line of defense against the supernatural. His presence lingers, both as memory and as a voice in the darkness.
Rasheed
Lola's brother, Rasheed, is both comic relief and a tragic figure. He is loyal, loving, and protective, but also caught in the web of family dysfunction and supernatural horror. His attempts to help Lola and Ian are well-intentioned but ultimately futile. Rasheed's fate is ambiguous—he is both a victim and, in the end, a participant in the cult's final ritual. His character embodies the novel's themes of loyalty, loss, and the limits of love.
Dr. Sunderland
Dr. Sunderland is the family's therapist, a figure of apparent support and wisdom. Beneath his professional exterior, however, lies a connection to the cult and its rituals. He dispenses both psychological advice and occult oils, blurring the line between science and superstition. Dr. Sunderland's betrayal is a key moment in the novel, revealing the depth of the conspiracy against the family. He is both a symbol of failed authority and a participant in the novel's central horror.
Big Ears
The family cat, Big Ears, is more than a pet—he is a familiar, a companion to Jonesy, and a symbol of the uncanny. His body warps and mutates under Jonesy's influence, and his death and brief resurrection mark a turning point in the novel. Big Ears is both a victim of the family's curse and a participant in its rituals. His presence is a reminder that the boundaries between human and animal, life and death, are never secure.
Vince
Vince is the local historian and keeper of the region's secrets. He provides Ian with crucial information about the Order of the Seven Paths, the history of Kirkbride's Bluff, and the nature of the seven-pointed star. Vince is both a skeptic and a believer, a figure who bridges the gap between folklore and reality. His role is to bear witness, to help the family understand the forces arrayed against them, and to offer what little help he can.
Kit
Kit is a friend and ally to Lola and Ian, a dispensary owner and organizer of the local block party. She represents the possibility of community, connection, and survival in the face of horror. Kit's role is to provide support, resources, and a path to escape when the family's world collapses. She is a reminder that, even in the darkest times, there are people who care and who can help.
Plot Devices
The Seven-Pointed Star
The seven-pointed star recurs throughout the novel as a symbol of the Order of the Seven Paths, an occult group devoted to cosmic creation and destruction. It appears on baby clothes, blankets, jewelry, and in the architecture of the family's world. The star is both a protective talisman and a mark of doom, linking the family's personal trauma to a larger, cosmic horror. Its presence foreshadows the revelation of Dannah's true history and the nature of Jonesy's powers. The star is a plot device that ties together the novel's themes of inheritance, ritual, and the inescapability of the past.
Unreliable Reality
The novel's narrative structure is marked by ambiguity, hallucination, and the collapse of boundaries between reality and nightmare. Both Lola and Ian experience visions, blackouts, and shared dreams. The house itself warps and shifts, and the woods are alive with impossible creatures. The use of unreliable reality as a plot device heightens the horror, making it impossible for the reader (and the characters) to distinguish between psychological breakdown and supernatural invasion. This device is central to the novel's exploration of trauma, parenthood, and the limits of understanding.
Generational Trauma
The novel's structure is built around the repetition and inheritance of trauma—abandonment, abuse, occult rituals, and failed parenthood. The sins of the parents are visited upon the children, and the family is both a source of love and a site of horror. The plot is driven by the revelation of secrets, the return of the repressed, and the impossibility of escape. Generational trauma is both a theme and a plot device, shaping the characters' actions and the unfolding of the story.
Foreshadowing and Ritual
The novel is structured around rituals—birth, death, sacrifice, and creation. Foreshadowing is achieved through omens (deer, bugs, glowing eyes), repeated symbols (the star, the cornfield), and the recurrence of ancient songs and stories. The plot unfolds with a sense of inevitability, as if the characters are enacting a script written long before their time. The use of ritual and foreshadowing creates a sense of cosmic horror, in which individual agency is overwhelmed by forces beyond comprehension.
The Uncanny Child
Jonesy is both a character and a plot device—a vessel for the novel's central horror. His powers, strangeness, and inhumanity drive the plot forward, forcing the parents to confront the consequences of their actions and the limits of their love. The uncanny child is a classic horror trope, but here it is used to explore the terror of parenthood, the fear of the other within, and the possibility that what we create may destroy us.
Analysis
The Vile Thing We Created is a searing, contemporary horror novel that uses the lens of parenthood to explore the deepest anxieties of modern life: the fear of exclusion, the pressure to conform, the trauma of creation, and the terror that what we bring into the world may not be what we intended. Ottone's narrative blurs the boundaries between psychological and supernatural horror, using the uncanny child as a metaphor for generational trauma, failed dreams, and the inescapability of the past. The novel is both a critique of societal expectations—especially around motherhood—and a meditation on the limits of love, the persistence of evil, and the fragility of reality. Its lessons are both personal and cosmic: that creation is always a risk, that the past is never truly buried, and that some horrors cannot be undone, only survived. The story's ambiguous ending—exile, survival, and the lingering presence of darkness—reminds us that the things we create, and the traumas we inherit, are never truly gone. The horror is not just in the supernatural, but in the everyday struggles of love, loss, and the search for meaning in a world that is often indifferent, if not actively hostile, to our hopes.
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