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During the day, small groups of people would gather behind buildings and in enclosed areas to discuss it with hushed voices, asking the same questions over and over again: What was it? What happened to the hunting party? What should they do? The men of the hunting party were not the same people they were before they entered the woods. They were all gaunt, their eyes devoid of all light and courage, with their hair whitening at a terrifying rate. Tim’s mother wailed and wept for her missing son, while the mayor spent each day cooped up in his office, working on nothing but bottle after bottle of liquor. Try as they might, the adults couldn’t keep it secret. Small details leaked to the children, becoming fuel for new games. When they played tag, whoever was ‘it’ became the monster in the woods. Stories would be made up, about how it would sneak into homes and children who didn’t say a special chant. They would huddle together at the edge of the woods, daring each other to go in. 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