What Genre Does 'Brutes' Best Fit Into?

'Brutes' is one of those stories that slaps you in the face with its defiance of neat categorization. At its core, it’s a visceral blend of dystopian survival and psychological horror, but calling it just that feels like selling it short. The narrative follows a group of kids stranded in a decaying city overrun by feral gangs and something far worse lurking in the shadows. The way it merges raw, ugly violence with these hauntingly beautiful moments of human connection—like sharing a can of food under flickering streetlights—gives it this gritty, poetic realism that’s hard to pin down.

What really sets it apart is how it weaponizes atmosphere. The world isn’t just dangerous; it feels alive, like the crumbling buildings are breathing down your neck. The author doesn’t rely on cheap jump scares. Instead, they build dread through eerie quietness, sudden bursts of brutality, and the kids’ unraveling sanity as they fight to stay human. It’s got elements of coming-of-age too, but twisted—every lesson learned is coated in blood or betrayal. The dialogue snaps with this raw, unpolished energy, like overhearing real teens in a warzone. You could argue it’s speculative fiction, but it’s too grounded in emotional truth to float off into pure fantasy. It’s the kind of book that stains your imagination long after you finish it, which is why I’d slot it into 'neo-noir survival horror' if forced to label it. Labels don’t do it justice, though. This thing bleeds outside the lines.