Our Share of Night by Mariana Enriquez

“The horror is never just the monster. It’s who feeds it. Who protects it. Who prays to it in secret.”

This book doesn’t ask permission—it drags you under.

From its very first pages, Our Share of Night grips with dread. But what makes it truly terrifying isn't just the supernatural cult at its center—it's the quiet, everyday complicity that surrounds it. Enriquez doesn’t separate the political from the personal, the mythic from the mundane. Dictatorships, family ties, generational trauma—they’re all bound by the same thread: who gets to survive, and who’s sacrificed to keep the machine running.

A Father, a Son, and a Shadow

The story orbits Gaspar, a young boy growing up under the wing of his father, Juan, a medium for a powerful occult group called The Order. Juan, broken and dangerous in his own right, is both protector and conduit—a man trying to shield his son from being consumed by the same monstrous force that’s devoured him.

What follows is a slow-burn epic that slips between timelines and perspectives, blending grief, magic, and political horror into a sweeping vision of darkness that is both cosmic and deeply human.

Why This Book Hits Different

This isn’t horror that startles—it simmers. Enriquez writes like someone with their hand pressed against a wound. Her language is rich and sick with atmosphere: flickering lights, decaying mansions, the heat of the Argentine summer, the hum of violence just beneath the skin.

But more than that, she understands that horror works best when it's about the body—how it’s used, controlled, possessed, and desecrated. Especially under regimes—be they political or mystical—that thrive on domination. There's a reason this book feels heavy. It's haunted by real history.

Themes You Can’t Shake

• Inheritance: Not just of blood, but of silence, of complicity. What do we do with the pain we didn’t ask for?

• Devotion vs. Destruction: Can love survive when it’s bound to power? What does it mean to protect someone in a world designed to consume them?

• The Body as Battleground: For politics, for faith, for legacy.

• Darkness as Structure, Not Accident: The Order isn’t a metaphor for the dictatorship—it is the dictatorship, made eternal and supernatural.

Final Thoughts

Reading Our Share of Night feels like wandering a mansion where every room holds a different kind of grief. You don’t always know where you are, or what’s real—but the ache is constant. The horror is not just in the ritual, but in the familiar: the father trying to save his son, the friends trying to reclaim their past, the country trying to forget.

This is a book about what we inherit and what we bury. It’s about the darkness we’re forced to carry—and what it costs to put it down.