As you know, we’re less than a week away from the publication of Level 26: Dark Origins. What better time to introduce you to my co-writer on the project, the extremely talented Duane Swierczynski? Duane has written both thrilling whodunits and exciting graphic novels, so I knew the story of Steve Dark and Sqweegel would be in good hands with him. Check out Duane’s blog below to read about how Sqweegel crept inside of his head…

Anthony E. Zuiker

Sqweegel & Me: A Love Story

By Duane Swierczynski

He wears a full-body condom.

I’ll admit it. Once I heard those words, I was in.

I was in my home office, talking to Anthony Zuiker on the phone for the first time. He was describing the novel he had in mind. But not just any novel. Something he called a “digi-novel.”

It was July 2008, and my basement office in Philadelphia was sweltering. All I knew was what my agent had told me: Zuiker, the creator of the CSI, was looking for a novelist to collaborate on a series of horror-thrillers. But there was also a unique online component to it that… well, my agent said, it’s better if Zuiker explains it to you.

So there I was, listening to Zuiker walk me through the story that was originally titled Sqweegel—the name of the killer. Sqweegel wears a full-body condom, Zuiker explained, making him forensic-proof. No stray hairs. No skin cells. No bodily fluids. No nothing.

I started to feel that familiar tingle in my brain. See, when a novelist hears a cool idea, there’s an almost involuntary reflex where your own brain hijacks you for a while. You start turning it around in your head. Playing with the possibilities.

That’s what happened. I found myself thinking, “Damn, what would I do with a forensic-proof suit?”

But that wasn’t all. Zuiker went on to explain that Sqweegel has the uncanny ability to fold himself up like an insect and tuck himself into the tiniest of crevices… and stay there. For hours. Right until the moment you fell asleep. And then…

WHAM. The tingling again. A forensic-proof killer who can pretty much hide anywhere in your freakin’ house?

Seriously?

I couldn’t help it. I started looking around my office. Like the tiny closet under the stairs, right next to my desk. (I’m looking at it right now.) It’s got a small door with a round knob, and inside are boxes full of extra copies of my novels. But there’s extra room. A guy like Sqweegel could easily fit in there…

… or the space between my drywall ceiling and the beams supporting my living room floor. If I step out into the hallway, I can peek up into the space, which is completely dark except for the little bit of illumination from the recessed lighting. Yeah, I could see him hiding up there, too…

… or crap, what about the space between my drywall and the cement foundation? I’d hired a crew to finish my basement a year ago, and part of the process was building it out from the original walls. My kids’ pet hamster, Kevin, had once ran away and hid behind the drywall for a good week before we lured him out with treats. Sqweegel could probably insert himself into that space, no problem…

… and after a minute or two, I realized my imagination was already on overdrive.

I was freaking myself out, in my own house.

I knew right then, I wanted in.

And that was even before Zuiker explained the concept of the digi-novel—that Sqweegel would be a fusion of novel, movie, and online community with the goal of telling scary-as-shit story. The idea was cool and exciting, to be sure.

But honestly: Zuiker had me with “killer who wears a full-body condom.”

I love a great horror villain. Thomas Harris’ Hannibal Lecter. Jack Ketchum’s cannibals. Stephen King’s Pennywise the Clown. Wes Craven’s Freddy Krueger. James Ellroy’s Night Tripper. Clive Barker’s Pinhead. Joe Lansdale’s God of the Razor. Dean Koontz’s Edgler Vess. James Wan and Leigh Whannell’s Jigsaw Killer. J.J. Abrams’ Cloverfield monster.

They practically announce themselves in their first appearance: I’m here, you haven’t seen the likes of me before, and I’m going to fuck you up in ways you’ve never dreamed of.

(That is, until they start putting them on boxes of breakfast cereals, which is kind of the death knell for any monster. Let me assure you: I doubt we’ll be seeing Berry Sqweegel Bits anytime soon.)

Zuiker and I met up last September on the sunny Santa Monica Pier—one of the more cheerful places on earth—to talk through one of the darkest stories I’ve ever heard. We spent the next nine months writing, editing, discussing, re-writing, re-editing, and revising, guided by the George Martin of this project—Dutton’s Ben Sevier. Throughout the process, the goal was simple: to give you, the reader, an experience you’ve never had before. We want you to be scared out of your mind, but also unable to stop turning pages.

And in a matter of days, you’ll have the chance to meet Sqweegel for yourself. I can’t wait to hear what you think.

I’ll be hanging out in the comments section and on the various boards, so don’t be shy about saying hello. I’ll also be happy to answer any questions—i.e., Is it true Anthony made you wear the Sqweegel suit to understand what it felt like? (Answer: Not as much as you think.)

See you under the stairs…