Some tales are best told wet, dripping with blood and bowels, like a freshly slaughtered steer, its flesh and organs splayed across the butcher’s floor for all the world to see. Whether reading such stories or seeing such slaughters, the observer is witnessing two primal truths: fear can be measured in body parts and death is rarely heroic. These eight tales were run through the meat grinder and served-up raw. If you’re going in, bring plenty of napkins.
