Ep.207 – The House in the Woods - Something Worse Lurks Inside!

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A fun hike in the woods turns
into something a little more concerning when you

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realize you're lost and you're not sure
how to get back. But not to

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worry. You found a mysterious house
in the woods. It has strange decorations,

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but you're desperate, so you head
inside. What could be waiting?

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What's that? You want to be
scared? Come with me. You will

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experience tales over opera, ghosts,
and death. It is not recommended and

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for the Week at Heart listeners in
the dark, it's more fun than that

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way this weekly speaking Hello, my
spookies. It's Wednesday, and you know

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what that means. It's time for
a little spooky in your weekly. I'm

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your host and narrator, Enrique Kuto, and we have quite the show for

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you. But before we get to
that, I just want to say thank

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you so much for listening to the
show. I really do appreciate it.

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I'm happy to have you here as
we get ready for the Halloween season to

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arrive. It's almost here, my
friends, fall. I can hear the

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leaves crunching beneath my feet already,
and this story will help you prepare.

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So make sure you're subscribed on your
favorite podcasting app. That way, you

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don't miss a thing, because in
October we're going to be publishing so much

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spooky content. And while you're at
your favorite podcasting app, why not leave

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us a five star rating on Spotify
or Apple Podcasts. It makes a huge

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difference. It helps new spookies find
the show. And if you want to

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spend more time with all the spookies, like our contributing writer today, Bruce

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Haney, just go to Facebook and
type in Weekly Spookies Tomb of Terror.

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I assure you you'll have a great
time sharing memes, scary stories, news,

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and so much more with all your
other fellow spookies. But now,

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my friends, it's about time that
we head into the woods. The forest

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is often unassuming, but when nighttime
comes, all the sudden, the threats

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that you never imagined begin to permeate
throughout your entire imagination, making you wonder

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what's behind that bush, what's up
in that tree, or in this story,

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what is in the house in the
middle of the woods, Why is

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it here and is anyone there that
can help me? Or are things about

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to get a whole lot worse.
We're going to tell that story after these

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quick words from our sponsors. The
House and the Woods by Bruce Haney.

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Dear Sarah, I hope you never
have to read this letter. You know

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all my stories and secrets, except
for this incident. I never told you

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about it because I don't like to
think about it. Even in my own

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mind. I try to pretend like
it never happened. The sights I saw

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feel impossible to have been true.
It was in my twenty seventh year that

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I came upon that house. It
was while I was hiking alone in the

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Alder Creek forest. Rumor had it
that an old, abandoned village was deep

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in the woods, a village whose
prosperous years ended some hundreds of years ago

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when the town of Shannico became the
wool capital of the world and no one

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needed the wool from the town of
Alder any longer. A similar thing happened

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to Shannico a few years later,
when people again found wool cheaper elsewhere.

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But that is not this story.
That isn't my story. My story is

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about the first time I searched for
Alder and found a different place, one

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not found on any map, A
place I plan on going again tomorrow.

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But before I go I felt I
should write up my experience in case I

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don't make it back. I am
writing this just so that you know it

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happened. I plead to you,
do not come to look for me or

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send anyone to find me. As
I told you before, it was many

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years ago that I ventured into these
woods. I hope that enough time has

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passed since I was last out there
that it will now be safe, because

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I am in desperate need of what
I found out there. I could save

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you, dear, only for you, would I ever think of entering into

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those woods again, only the love
I have for you. I am scared

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of how scared I am even to
write this down. I am trembling,

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but I must get this written,
as the night is passing so quickly,

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and soon it shall be time to
journey once again into those woods. It

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was a bright sunny day when I
first went looking for Alder, and I

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was feeling quite optimistic about my journey. I brought my pack a small tent,

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and I was using a map I
found in an old book called Ghost

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Towns of the Northwest to guide me. I mentioned the town of Alder,

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but I never actually found Alder.
I got lost and way off track.

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I worried that I was lost,
as I had walked at least three miles

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past the distance I was supposed to
have been walking. It was getting near

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dark when I came across something peculiar. All the way out there, deep

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in the woods where no man would
need to wander, I came across a

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carved jack o lantern. It was
a misshapen pumpkin. It was taller than

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it was round, much like a
human head, but larger overall. It

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was oddly shaped and more bulbous on
the left than the right, which made

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its single tooth's smile looked like the
grotesque, rotten mouth of an elderly man

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who was suffered a stroke. Inside, I could see something shiny. My

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curiosity took hold of me, and
I bent down to give the ugly thing

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a closer look. The first thing
I noticed was the eyes were unlike any

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I had ever seen carved into a
gourd before. Each spot where an eye

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would be was four holes, giving
it the appearance of having eight eyes.

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After examining the mouth and then the
eyes, I looked upon the nose with

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greater concentration. Something seemed off.
When I touched it, I noticed some

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movement behind. Before I could react, I realized what it was, but

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it was too late. The pumpkin
was home to a nest of spiders that

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quickly made their escape out of the
pumpkin and up my arm. I ripped

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off my coat and threw it as
far as I could before starting the task

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of wiping off the remaining spiders from
my arm. Then I stopped because I

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was stunned. I glanced at the
pumpkin and saw that the top of it

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was rising up and off. I
was in such a state of fear that

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I just stood there watching while a
giant spider squeezed out of the pumpkin.

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It was the scariest thing I had
ever seen up to that point. Imagine

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a black spider the size of a
baseball glove that is dripping with pumpkin guts.

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I continued to stare until the spider
turned and looked right at me.

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I must have run two miles before
I finally felt safe enough to stop,

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and then I only stopped long enough
to catch my breath. Now that I

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was even deeper in the woods and
completely lost, I decided it was best

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to try to head back out of
the woods. I could find older another

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time. I figured it would be
about three hours hours of hiking to get

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back to where I had entered the
woods, But after walking a hundred feet

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back, fog rolled in all around
me. It would have been truly foolish

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to try to find my way back
through the dense mist, so with disappointment,

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I gave up on trying to make
it out of the woods. That

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night, I set up my small
tent and climbed inside, and right before

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I went to sleep, I remember
thinking, God, please don't let that

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spider find its way to me.
I was awoken in the middle of the

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night when I heard a sound that
was much like a door slamming. My

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brain was full of questions. Was
that a car door? Am I that

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close to the road? Am I
so lost that I'm nearly out of the

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woods. I broke down my tent, packed up, and then made my

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way towards the noise. Luckily,
the fog had lifted some for the moment

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at least, I started to think
maybe the sound had just been in my

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head. But then I saw a
light in the distance. Then the scent

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hit me. It was fire.
Oh my god, the woods are on

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fire. I thought they must be. I'm way too far out in the

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woods for there to be someone else
out here. But of course there was

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that horrible pumpkin. Someone had carved
that ugly thing. I walked slowly in

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the direction of the fire. Step
by step, I listened until I arrived

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just outside of the clearing and the
blaze of the fire. The woods were

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not on fire. I was relieved
that this was a human created controlled fire.

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It wasn't that cold out, but
I certainly missed my coat, so

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I approached the fire and stood there
for a bit to warm up. I

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hadn't seen a person yet, but
I noticed other queer things around. There

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was a chair that was crewe an
appearance. It was made from scraps of

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trees. The base was a log
and the back support was made from branches

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nailed to it. Behind the big
flames of this bonfire, I could see

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a house. Well, a house
is a bit of an exaggeration. It

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was somewhere in between a shack and
a house. I walked around the tree

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line to get a better view of
the structure. It was old. The

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architecture was unlike anything I had ever
seen. The roof was completely flat and

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the house had more windows than walls, windows that fogged and cracked from age.

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Some of the cracks and the windows
had been filled with dirt or clay.

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The place gave me the creeps,
and a feeling of dread swept over

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me, especially when I spotted more
of those jack o' lanterns. There must

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have been a pumpkin patch around there
somewhere. I was afraid that they would

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contain more giant black spiders. God, I may never sleep soundly again after

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this trip, I had thought.
Instead of running, I found myself approaching

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the house, thinking that maybe the
occupant could help me find my way out

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of these woods, or at least
provide a shelter for the night where I

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wouldn't have to worry about giant arachnids. Before knocking, I decided to peek

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through the window. The inside was
nicer than I would have imagined. It

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was filled with old furnishing, but
not as weathered as the outside of the

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house. An antique collector would be
ecstatic to come across such a fine There

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was a beautiful old couch and chair
set. Both were covered in velvet with

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detailed carvings in the wood. There
was also what looked to be a solid

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oak table. But what really drew
me in was an ancient looking trunk that

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was covered in tan leather, similar
to the cover of human skin. It

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wasn't made with the same craftsmanship as
the other furnishings. The seams were big

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and black and went all over the
place like it was made from scraps of

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skin. I was about to walk
to the door when I saw the inhabitant

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enter the room. I could only
see the right side of his face,

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but the man looked as old as
that trunk, with skin that looked just

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as leathery. He had unkempt hair
and an even longer beard. He walked

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over and opened the trunk, and
inside it was full of what appeared to

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be gold and silver coins. I
stood there awe struck until he turned to

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me. I was shocked by his
appearance. The right side of his face

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was sloped, just like that pumpkin, his smile revealed just one tooth,

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and yes, just like that pumpkin, he had eight eyes. I have

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never been so scared in my life. That is until a moment later when

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his extra two arms and two legs
sprung out of his body, tearing apart

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his fake skin suit, revealing him
to be a giant, ugly black spider.

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I ran, I ran at an
Olympic gold medal winning pace out of

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those woods. When I finally got
out, I was miles from my car.

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I never went back for that car, and I never went near those

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woods again. I know a bigger
man would have gone back for all that

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gold, but it wasn't worth losing
my life or even just seeing that thing

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again. That was enough of a
deterrent. But now, Sarah, my

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wife, you are sick and the
operation is more than we can afford.

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So this is my only choice.
Really, it is no choice. I

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love you more than I care for
my own safety. Hopefully I make it

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back. Hopefully this is not the
last sentence I will ever write. Big

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00:15:18.200 --> 00:15:22.200
thank you to Bruce Haney for Tonight's
story, and I want to mention he's

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a listener turned contributor. He's contributed
several stories now they've all been great,

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00:15:28.879 --> 00:15:33.799
and before that he was an avid
listener of the show. Thank you,

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00:15:33.840 --> 00:15:35.320
Bruce, And if you want to
send in a story of your own and

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00:15:35.360 --> 00:15:39.639
see if you've got what it takes
to entertain the Spookies, send it to

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00:15:39.679 --> 00:15:45.320
Weekly Spooky at gmail. Dot com, it's also worth mentioning. Bruce has

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made a name for himself writing about
local history, and the title of his

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most recent book is Eccentric Tales of
Boring, Oregon. You gotta love that.

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Apparently that is the name of the
town. It's not just a type

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of Oregon that some people would find
less than enthusiastic. So check that out

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00:16:04.240 --> 00:16:07.440
if you get a chance wherever you
read your books. If you like local

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00:16:07.559 --> 00:16:14.200
folklore, local history and you want
to support a listener of the show Eccentric

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00:16:14.240 --> 00:16:18.559
Tales of Boring Oregon, and if
you love what we're doing here at Weekly

180
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Spooky and you want to support us
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a Patreon with nearly ninety spookies keeping
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Wee, met Jack Kerr, and
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But for as little as one dollar a

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month, you get bonus episodes every
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now it's time for me to get
out of here. It's almost my birthday.

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00:17:08.359 --> 00:17:11.960
Dear Spooky's If you want to get
me a little gift at weekly spooky

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dot com. There is a link
to my Amazon wish list. But your

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presence is truly a presence, so
for myself, for my producer Dan Wilder,

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00:17:21.160 --> 00:17:23.880
my executive producer Rob Fields, and
our composer Ray Maddis, I'll talk

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00:17:23.920 --> 00:17:30.440
at you real soon. Thank you
for listening. To make sure to find

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00:17:30.440 --> 00:17:37.160
your way back next week. But
for now you are safe, trust me.