‘The Descent’ Official Novelization Coming Soon from Titan Books; Read First Chapter Now [Exclusive]

Based on the screenplay by Neil Marshall, The Descent: The Official Novelization is releasing this October from Titan Books and author Christian Francis, and Bloody Disgusting is excited to debut the cover art as well as a sneak peek at the novelization’s entire first chapter today.

The Descent: The Official Novelization will release on October 7, 2025.

Scream your last breath…

A tense and claustrophobic nightmare, this cult-classic is widely considered one of the best horror films of the 21st century. Written and directed by Neil Marshall, the director of Dog Soldiers and Hellboy, as well as episodes of Game of Thrones, Westworld and Hannibal.

In The Descent: The Official Novelization…

“After a tragic accident, six friends reunite for a caving expedition. Their adventure soon goes horribly wrong when a collapse traps them deep underground and they find themselves pursued by bloodthirsty creatures. As their friendships deteriorate, they find themselves in a desperate struggle to survive the creatures and each other.”

Read Chapter 1 below and grab your copy on October 7, 2025!

The Descent 

by Christian Francis 

based on the screenplay by Neil Marshall

CHAPTER 1 

THE END 

“Lean in!” Juno Kaplan yelped as the Hypalon raft crested above the colliding waters of the River Tay rapids. She clutched the nearest grip as the raft’s snubbed nose lifted and the icy torrent beneath catapulted the raft into the air. It crashed back down on the whitewater with a raucous splash, and Juno whooped.  

Behind her, gripping their oars firmly, Sarah Carter and Beth O’Brien did not feel as victoriously feral as Juno. They were both leaning into the middle of the raft, ensuring they wouldn’t capsize as they bounded over the wash.  

They wore bright yellow lifejackets and crash helmets securely strapped to their heads as they traversed the last legs of the tumultuous river. 

“Forward!” Juno screamed, grabbing her oar and beginning to row.  

On this command, Sarah and Beth leaned back out over the side of the raft and rowed in sync. 

“Drop!” Juno yelled as she glanced back at her friends. “Isn’t this freaking awesome?!”  

Her American drawl never failed to make Beth smirk. As the only American in the friend group, Juno often amused her British friends with her pronunciation and quirky Americanisms, and this latest exclamation was no different.  

“It’s totally tubular!” Juno added as she fist-pumped the air, oar in hand.  

“Cowabunga, dude!” Beth shouted in reply, a wide Cheshire cat grin plastered over her face. Her RP accent made her words sound intentionally ridiculous.  

Sarah just shook her head and held on to her grip as the raft edged up on one side, then fell again.  

As the water dropped away, the boat lurched forward and it fell four feet to the water below. They moved at speed downstream as the waters grew more and more violent around them.  

“Stay alert,” Juno shouted, loving her leadership role. “Gonna get a bit wilder from here on.” 

Sarah stared at Beth, wide-eyed and confused. Wilder? she thought. How could it get wilder? 

The choppy waters tossed them about to and fro. Their bodies were yanked hard. Like rag dolls, they fell up and down, side to side, holding on to their grips for dear life.  

The current dragged the raft at a furious pace. When they did not need to hold on, each worked their oars together, guided by Juno’s commands.  

“Left back,” “High side,” “Lean in.” No matter what was called back, Sarah and Beth followed.  

They may have looked less than enthusiastic about what they were doing, but that was only in comparison to Juno’s ebullience and overexcitement. Sarah and Beth loved this. They just had a hard time concealing their fear on this wild ride.  

The waters churned and twisted them along. When the spume occasionally cleared, they could see the bottom through clear water. Large boulders lurked beneath the surface, each looking as if it were lying in wait to snag flesh or break bones. That is what Sarah thought to herself as she glanced over the side between her frantic oaring. These morbid thoughts were soon dragged away as she heard the sudden song. 

“Come all ye young fellows who follow the sea,” Beth sang at the top of her lungs, barely audible over the roar of the water. “Wey hey, blow the man down.” She glanced at Sarah. “Come on. And pray, pay attention and listen to me.” 

“Give me some time to blow the man down,” Sarah belted.  

They merrily shouted this song as they rowed the rough waters ahead. Juno, though, was silent. Her excitement was dulled by the exclusion. She did not know that song and felt like a third wheel between Beth and Sarah, which was not anything new. Being the only American in the group often caused her to feel alienated, which she understood and never blamed anyone for but always tried to make up for.  

As their song ended, Juno leapt at the chance. “Row, row, row your boat. Gently down the stream.” She turned as she sang loudly to her friends.  

“Yes!” Beth shouted back. “Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily. Life is but a dream.” 

The three screaming this nursery rhyme was secondary to the bellowing roar of the river. The crashing and smashing waves violently exploded into each other, soaking them and the raft as they rowed over it.  

Between the gusting wind that pushed them at an incredible pace and the relentless current that dragged them along, the raft careened round the twists of the river with little control as it entered the lower course.  

As they floated onward, the rocks on either side of the riverbank loomed high, cutting out any battling autumnal winds. Within a few moments, they had gone from hurtling over a cacophony of waves to drifting on peaceful ripples of shallow waters.  

They could not help but burst out laughing, their song giving way to giggles. 

Sarah gripped her oar, basking in her adrenaline-fuelled glow. They all did, feeling like they’d just won a battle as dopamine rushed through them.  

Juno had the largest grin of all, naturally, and she turned to Sarah and Beth while barely holding in her exhilaration. “You think it’s over, don’t you?”  

“It isn’t?” Beth asked as her smile faltered.  

Juno nodded ahead of them. “Calm before the storm, babe!” 

Sarah peered ahead, and just beyond this stretch of river, the waters grew choppy again. The noise was even more turbulent than before. “What is that?!” she shouted to Juno.  

“That,” Juno replied in a raised voice, “that is the meat grinder!” 

Beth could not hold in her laughter. “Who names it that?” 

“We can quit now if you want,” Juno added. “It’s the last part, but it’s the most dangerous and the most fun. Trust me.” 

All three began to backpedal to slow the raft down.  

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this yet,” Sarah called out as she felt a strong urge to quit. “Bit above my skill set.” 

Not giving them much more time to think, the strong current tugged them along harder and harder.  

“Well?” Juno asked as the thunderous noise ahead heightened. “Last chance.” 

Sarah peered farther downstream and could make out figures standing on rocks just beyond the rough waters. 

“They’re watching you, Sarah,” Juno said as she also noticed them. “Let’s make ’em proud, eh?” 

Even though she could not see their features, Sarah knew it was Paul. Her husband. Her perfect husband. And Jessica. Her daughter. Her perfect daughter. Never an argument between them. Never a harsh word was spoken from their lips. She often felt that her life was too ideal to be real.  

“Sarah!” Beth shouted, grabbing her attention. “Whad’ya say?” 

Juno turned expectantly to them.  

“Fuck it!” Sarah said with a sudden bravado. “Let’s do this!” 

* 

On a large flat rock overlooking the end section of the rapids, in front of the steps leading down to the car park, Paul Carter crouched next to his five-year-old daughter, Jessica. Both were wrapped up in padded coats, woollen hats, and thick gloves. Though not winter, the chill was biting.  

“Here comes Mummy,” he said as he wrapped one arm around his daughter.  

“Is that her there?” Jessica asked, pointing at the furthest point of the rapids.  

“Yes, can you see her? She’s the one at the back on the boat on the left-hand side.” 

Jessica jumped on the spot. “I can see her! It’s Mummy!”  

* 

“Ladies,” Juno said, “remember to hold tight and keep rowing, no matter what. Even if you feel like it’s not doing nothing!” 

“Alright?” Beth looked at Sarah. 

“Alright!” Sarah replied, determined.  

“All-fucking-right!” Juno repeated. “Come on now, row!” 

All three quickly thrust their oars into the water and began to row the raft towards the edge, across the point of no return.  

The current pulled hard at the raft. With a stomach-churning yank, they were dragged over the edge and into the fray.  

There was no more controlling their fate. They were, at the behest of nature, just witnesses to the river’s incredible power.  

With one hand on a grip, Juno screamed for joy. 

Sarah and Beth were both the same as they held on to their grips for dear life.  

The crashing water threw them every which way as the boat seemed to twist beneath them, bouncing off rocks on their way down.  

“Mummy, Mummy,” Jessica cried out in happiness as she saw the raft enter the calm waters at the base of this “meat grinder”.  

All three on the raft held the same wide-eyed expression. Relief, excitement, hyper-focus, and joy collided to render them temporarily speechless.  

Eventually, Juno giggled. “Wanna do it again?” 

No one answered, but Beth just shook her head with a smile as they drifted across the calm basin.  

“Mummy,” Jessica cried out again. 

Sarah smiled as she waved at her family, and all three in the raft began to paddle towards the shore. 

“You did it!” Paul called out. “You did it!”  

Juno, glowing with the thrill of it all, glanced back at Sarah. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she said. “Admit it—I was right! This was awesome and not hard at all?” 

“Piece of piss,” Beth added.  

Sarah burst into a sudden laugh. Even though this was an established course, a place where few were ever seriously injured, it still made her glad to be alive.  

Juno had been right. This was fun. This was needed.  

As the raft hit the riverbank, Juno stood and waved to Paul and Jessica.  

“Shall we?” Beth asked Sarah in a whisper, nodding to Juno as she carefully got to her feet.  

Sarah smiled with mischievous glee.  

Trying not to lose their balance—but more importantly, trying not to alert Juno—both moved closer to the head of the raft.  

Juno, meanwhile, was busy clowning around for Jessica’s sake, standing on one foot to mock a ballerina pose and sticking her tongue out. She yelped in surprise as her friends pushed her over the side, and she fell headfirst into the shallow waters with a massive splash.  

“You assholes!” she shouted.  

Beth, Juno, and Paul could not help but laugh.  

Jessica just looked up at her dad. “What’s an assow?”  

“It’s a Mummy-and-Daddy word,” Paul said, still laughing.  

As Sarah stepped off the raft, Jessica ran over and threw her arms around her.  

“Jessie-bear, are you proud of your mummy?” Sarah asked, kissing her daughter on the head. 

Jessica just replied with a tighter hug. 

Paul, meanwhile, walked over to the shoreline and offered a hand to Juno, who was still in the water, looking annoyed.  

With a thankful nod, she reached out and grabbed Paul’s hand. As she did, a pendant fell from around her neck and onto her exposed cleavage.  

Paul glanced down at the shiny metal resting on her wet olive skin and could not hide his smile. Juno noticed the gaze, and with a brazenly seductive smirk, she tucked the pendant back into her vest.  

As she dragged the raft onto the shore nearby, Beth could not help but notice their interaction.  

Sarah, meanwhile, was busy looking up at the dark-grey clouds crawling overhead. “We’re lucky we booked the early slot today. Looks like it’s going to bucket it down, doesn’t—” 

A thunderous rumble sounded above them, and rain suddenly erupted from the sky in a torrent.  

“You think it’s gonna rain?” Juno asked her with a smile.  

Jessica giggled as her father walked over to her. 

“Jess,” he said, holding his hand out, “come on, you’re getting soaked. Let’s get to the car.” 

“Where are you parked?” Sarah asked.  

“Just down here.” Paul held Jessica’s hand and turned down the steps leading to the car park. 

“I’ll be there in a bit. Just gonna help with the raft,” Sarah added.  

“Why don’t you just go on ahead?” Juno said. “Beth and I got this.” 

“You sure?” Sarah asked as she unstrapped her helmet, allowing her long blonde hair to fall and hit her shoulders.  

“Yeah, we can finish up here,” Beth confirmed. “You should go. No sense in all of us getting soaked! Get Jess in the warm!” 

“We’ll see you back at the hotel, okay?” Juno said. 

“Thanks, guys, really. You’re both awesome.” Sarah smiled then turned, hurrying after her family down the steps. “Wait for me, guys!”  

Juno peered up through the falling rain at dark clouds as another thunderclap rang out. “Couldn’t have held off five more minutes, could ya?” she sighed. 

Raindrops thudded onto the hollow raft as Beth watched Paul’s car leave the small, gravel lot in the direction of much darker clouds.  

“Juno?” Beth asked. She turned back to her friend, who was busy deflating the raft.  

“Yeah?” Juno said without looking up.  

Beth spoke with a polite tone that belied the language she used. “What the fuck was that shit?” 

Immediately, Juno paused and peered at her, blinking rapidly. “What the what now?” 

“That look?” 

Juno’s eyes widened for a split second. “You’re gonna have to use your words more, Ms Bethany O’Brien. I have no damn idea what you’re saying.” 

“With Paul.” Beth crossed her arms as if to make a bigger point. “You gave him that fuck me stare you give all the blokes.” 

Juno shot Beth a frown. “Paul?” Her question came out as if the notion was the worst thing she could imagine. “Do you take me for someone who shops vanilla?” 

Beth shrugged. Doubt quickly crept into her head. Paul and Juno? That’s ludicrous. 

Juno chuckled and turned her attention back to the raft. “You think what really floats my boat is a guy who wears loafers and has a nice short back and sides?” Before Beth could respond, she continued. “You don’t know me that well, do you?” She chuckled again. “Paul? Paul? Are you kidding? Really?”  

“You raise a good point there.” Beth shook her head. “But it looked like you were giving him that look you always give those poor bastards you’re about to ruin. And if Sarah saw that, she’d probably break your—” 

“Paul, though?”  

The rain began to pelt down, ripping them away from their conversation.  

“Quick, let’s get this packed away,” Juno said, shifting their attention to more important matters. 

* 

The storm intensified, and the rain fell in a continual torrent onto the car’s windshield as it snaked through the wild moorland of Glenbuck Loch. The wipers furiously sped back and forth as they tried to clear Paul’s vision, but it was a constant losing battle. As soon as the rain was wiped away, it immediately skewed his vision once more. 

Beyond his concentration on the road, Paul’s mind was elsewhere.  

The thunk, thunk, thunk of the wipers, along with the drumming rain on the vehicle’s chassis, filled the silence.  

Sarah, noticing his distraction, reached over and touched his hand that rested on the steering wheel. As if shocked from a dream, Paul recoiled quickly before shaking his head with a smile.  

“Oh, sorry,” he said, reaching out to hold her hand. “Was a million miles away.” 

“Are you okay driving? I don’t mind if you’re tired. I’m still buzzing from the rafting. I can drive.” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he replied, forcing him back into the present. “You’ve had a busy day.” 

As the sun began to set, the rain battered the countryside endlessly. The moors to either side of them were barely discernible through the windows.  

They were not alone on these winding roads, though, as overbright headlights from oncoming vehicles occasionally passed. 

Jessica, playing in the back seat, fumbled with her doll as she accidentally dropped it down into the footwell.  

“Oh, poops.” Leaning forward, she stretched out her small hand to try and pick it up again. But her seat belt held her back. “Dad?” 

Paul was familiar with this regular occurrence. Reaching his arm behind his seat, he blindly patted the floor in search of the fallen doll. 

“Bit more, bit more!” Jessica said happily as she watched his hand reach like a claw grabber at a fairground. 

When Paul’s fingers touched the cotton of the doll’s leg, he grabbed it and handed it to Jessica with a smile—all while keeping his eye on the road.  

Thunk, thunk, thunk. The windscreen wipers continued to battle against the torrent, filling the car with their rhythmic soundtrack. 

As a truck passed by with its headlights on full beam, the blinding glare caused Paul to wince. His face fell to a somewhat maudlin expression again as his mind crept back to other things. 

“Paul?” Sarah asked. “Are you really okay? You seem a bit distant.” 

Thunk, thunk, thunk. 

Paul squinted as he stared through the rain-slicked glass.  

“Babe?” Sarah added pointedly.  

With a thin, unconvincing smile, he glanced at Sarah. “Really, I’m fine. Stop worrying yourself.” 

A thunderous crunch echoed ahead of them and stole their attention back to the road. Through the blinding rain, a pair of bright beams pirouetted wildly. Another smash, then the beams multiplied and advanced towards them with a monstrous ferocity.  

No one had time to register what was happening as a large van and a small car collided up ahead, both hurtling towards them.  

As Sarah screamed, she instinctively turned back to Jessica.  

Paul frantically yanked on the steering wheel, not knowing which way to go, just trying to miss the twirling headlights.  

But it was too late.  

* 

Andrew Adams had left his workshop in Limmerhaugh a lot later than he normally would have. Having spent the best part of the afternoon looking for a few ratchet straps in his overly messy storage shed, he had finally given up the search. He resigned himself to the fact that the two dozen ten-foot scaffolding poles in the back of his van would have to be secured by a single rope and knot. Though not optimal and not legal, with the bad weather coming in strong, if he drove sensibly no one would notice the lack of safety with his load. He had to deliver them to a builder’s yard in Parish Holm by six p.m. if he wanted to get paid. Because of that, he could not wait any longer.  

As Andrew merged onto Moorland Road, the rain had become significantly heavier than he had expected, but that did not deter him. He had driven in much worse, with much bigger vehicles. In this small truck—one he barely fit in, with his large belly pressed against the steering wheel as his stocky arms gripped it tightly—he drove at a sensible speed. 

He did not see the oncoming car clip the edge of the road as it carelessly sped around the corner in front of him. He did not see that car spin as the wheel buckled under itself.  

The last thing Andrew knew before his world ended was that something collided with him like a freight train, just as the scaffolding poles in the bed of his truck snapped their weak restraint.  

* 

Like missiles, the scaffolding poles were launched from the crumpled frame of the truck and flew off in different directions. Most clattered onto the asphalt, creating an almighty cacophony.  

But one of them did not.  

One of them cut through the air and, as if with a marksman’s precision, pierced the Volkswagen hatchback’s windshield in its ill-fated path. 

* 

Sarah knew she had been screaming, but she could not hear it. All she could hear was the terrified cries of her daughter and husband in the seconds before she was knocked unconscious. 

In those few heartbeats, she saw the scaffolding pole tear into the car as if it were warm butter. It ripped straight through the top half of Paul’s face. His jaw jutted back and forth in a horrifically swift death twitch as blood gushed out from his grotesquely demolished mouth and ears, eyes and nose. 

The pole buried through his head and into the seat behind him. 

Sara’s last conscious thought, before the car’s door bent inward and smashed her into darkness, was that the pole had gone through the seat and that Jessica’s screaming had suddenly stopped dead.  

Christian Francis is an author specializing in the darkest of fantasy and the strangest of horror. Alongside his original works for both adult and YA audiences, he has penned official novelizations of classic genre films, including Session 9, Wishmaster, Vamp, and Creature (also known as Titan Find).

He has also collaborated with horror filmmaker Tom Holland (Fright Night, Child’s Play) on the gripping horror-murder mystery Killing Frank. Looking ahead to 2025, Christian will continue expanding his repertoire of official novelizations with adaptations of beloved genre classics such as Maniac Cop (1, 2, and 3), The First Power, Retribution, The Gate, and more.

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