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Sadism, nihilism, poverty, wealth, screams, whimpers, sanity and madness collide in Nowhere, Indiana. For Thomas Krieg, Nowhere is a miles-long, pitch-black underground maze in which he's imprisoned dozens of boys for the past ten years—all in the name of art. For two brothers, Nowhere is the only place they clearly remember living. A world unto itself, in which they must stay alert to stay alive. A world from which the only escape is death. But for an English occultist known only as Mr. No One, Nowhere is much more...and much less: the perfect place in which to perform a ritual to unleash the grandest of eldritch deities, the God of Nothingness, the Great Dark Mouth.
"It has been years since I've read a novella as mesmerizing, disturbing, and unique as this. The supernatural, psychological, and emotional elements are so tightly intertwined that you never really know where reality begins and the dark elements begin."
— Gary A. Braunbeck,
“The confidence and expertise so blatantly evident in Nicole Cushing’s writing is astonishing. To make the reader wonder just how a particular work could have been conceived is the height of artistry. And Children of No One instills this wonder indeed. At the same time, it presents art as a vehicle for the grossest inhumanity, something that both hypnotizes and appalls. Ultimately, however, the source of the story’s dread is life itself, as the author explicitly announces late in the narrative, too late for those who by force or fancy must play its awful game.”
—Thomas Ligotti
"It has been years since I've read a novella as mesmerizing, disturbing, and unique as this. The supernatural, psychological, and emotional elements are so tightly intertwined that you never really know where reality begins and the dark elements begin."
— Gary A. Braunbeck,
“The confidence and expertise so blatantly evident in Nicole Cushing’s writing is astonishing. To make the reader wonder just how a particular work could have been conceived is the height of artistry. And Children of No One instills this wonder indeed. At the same time, it presents art as a vehicle for the grossest inhumanity, something that both hypnotizes and appalls. Ultimately, however, the source of the story’s dread is life itself, as the author explicitly announces late in the narrative, too late for those who by force or fancy must play its awful game.”
—Thomas Ligotti