Spookhunt: The Michael Gideon Collection

By Aaron Conaway

The forest was haunted. It was known. Health-conscious hikers and bikers might skirt the forest's edge, but few ventured inside.

 

Because of the hauntings.

 

Like many such sites around the world, just what was in the woods changed from generation to generation. Great-grandparents had feared an alleged farm filled with crazed albinos. Grandparents, however, were terrified of an escaped lunatic who roamed those same woods in a gorilla mask, killing indiscriminately any who crossed his path. Parents, meanwhile, had screamed at the trees to avoid the Goatman, who had honest-to-God been seen by the friend of a friend's cousin once.

But this generation was savvier than their ancestors had been. Feeling nearly invincible, with their smartphones and Internet. Nothing was in those woods that Google couldn't disprove.

 

So they often went into the woods – drinking what they could steal, smoking whatever they got their hands on – laughingly daring whatever was there to show itself.

 

Until it did.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aaron Conaway
• Release date: Dec 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393907770

Aaron Conaway

Aaron lives in K.C., MO with his wife and fur babies. He makes up stories more than he eats, eats more than he sleeps, and has been given to frequent a Ferris wheel when occasion permits. He loves to experiment with tales, mostly flash pieces and short stories, and is a huge fan of myths and folklore. Waking The Weaver, his first novel, kicked off The Timberhaven Chronicles.

Book preview

Halloween

Achilly, afternoon breeze blew at the forest edge of Farm Road 1195, making the autumn-colored trees whisper like dead men. The 3 p.m. sunlight did little to calm the shiver going down Sherie’s spine, though, as she leaned against the hood of Libby’s car, playing Candy Crush on her phone and pretending not to listen to Thrash’s story.

Look, you can believe this or not, I don’t really give a shit, but the whole thing went down last September, Thrash said, crushing his cigarette butt into the heel of his boot. I’d been at Drury for a couple weeks when it all went down. My first thought at seeing it, I figured it for some kinda freshmen hazing. You know, scare the hell out of us and watch us piss ourselves. It’s kinda funny, right? The question was to Sherie, but she stayed focused on her phone.

The wind picked up a bit, colder this time. Dead leaves blew around Thrash’s ankles as he continued.

Christ, it’s getting cold out here. Where the hell are Caitlin and Lauren?

En route, Daniel sighed, finishing up the laces on his hiking boots, Are you gonna tell this story or not?

I still don’t think he should. Libby added, pulling a duffle bag out of her car and shutting the door, Aren’t we trying for a legitimate hunt? Heightening our emotions – our imaginations – it’ll skew the results.

’Skew the results’? Thrash laughed, kicking at the leaves that had amassed around his feet, "We’re just lab rats to you, aren’t we, Lib. Look, I