Barry had heard the rumors: monsters lived in Gloomwood; people who went in didn't come out; something supernatural controlled Gloomwood. They were myths. He knew that. Gloomwood was a patch of dense forest. Nothing more. Forests don't hurt people.
We might not like to admit to it, but everyone -even the gentlest of souls -derives a secret guilty satisfaction from the misfortune of others. Tim Lihoreau has made it his business to uncover the myriad ways in which schadenfreude rears its wicked head, including: Turparphilia: To delight in the less than aesthetically beautiful nature of a…
Now two teenagers, children of his friends, young people who know how to take care of themselves in the forest, are lost in Gloomwood. All he has to do is to go it, find them, and bring them out. Fine. So, why are Barry and the rest of the search party afraid, perhaps unable, to force themselves into Gloomwood? Why is Alan frightened of the snakes he knows will be hibernating, or Ned, an experienced hunter, terrified by the thought of encountering a bear? Why is Barry sure the forest will close in around him and crush him? Are they irrational fears, or is Gloomwood as deadly as the legends claim?