Full Body Chills

Podcast: Full Body Chills
Host: audiochuck
Episode: Over the Hill and Through the Woods
Date: October 15, 2025

Overview

“Over the Hill and Through the Woods” is a haunting, atmospheric short story dramatized by Full Body Chills, immersing listeners in a tale of grief, love, and the uneasy boundaries between the living and the dead. The story follows Mary, a grieving widow, as she’s lured back to the woods by a mysterious letter from her deceased husband, Brock. What begins as a desperate search for reunion spirals into a grisly confrontation with the unnatural, examining the limits of human longing and the morbid siren call of the past.

Key Discussion Points & Story Progression

The Call to the Unknown (02:00–06:10)

• Mary receives a letter seemingly in her late husband Brock's handwriting, imploring her to meet him in the woods and bring certain supplies.
• Grief’s irrational pull: Despite the impossibility of the request—or perhaps because of it—Mary is compelled to follow the instructions, driven by hope, love, and desperation.
• The setting establishes unease: An oppressive, green-drenched forest replaces comfort with dread, an environment as decayed as Mary’s emotional state.

Into the Great Green Forest (06:10–16:09)

• Mary’s conflicted mindset:
  • “You don’t need proof to go searching for your husband, your dead husband. Just how you don’t need proof to know that you still loved them.” (06:10)
• Brock’s presence is all around—his abandoned car, his lost phone:
  • Mary finds Brock’s old phone in the woods, which miraculously contains a recent photo of her standing outside her car, defying all logic.
  • “The photo showed my beaten down Ford saddled behind Brock’s own junker. A great green forest hugged the frame, and there I was, standing on the edge of the road, staring into the lens. Me.” (12:40)
• Atmosphere of growing supernatural dread:
  • As Mary ventures further into the woods, she notes the complete absence of animal sounds, describing a suffocating silence and the predatory feel to the forest.

The Hilltop and the Cabin (16:10–22:00)

• Existential motivation:
  • “Because I think we hunt for answers even when we know the truth can kill. Because even if it kills a part of you, the best part of you, that’s just being human.” (16:09, Mary)
• Grim discoveries:
  • Atop the hill sits a decrepit cabin surrounded by hoof-like footprints and pervaded by death’s stench.
  • Inside, Mary finds an array of grotesquely preserved animal carcasses, foreshadowing the unnatural abomination to come.
• Unrecognizable reunion:
  • Brock is alive, but transformed—stitched together from animal skins, leaking worms and beetles, eyes bright gold and inhuman.
    • “He stared at me with rodent eyes, bright gold things like leprechaun coins. A black snout careened from his face. Jagged, mismatching teeth leered from a mouth wrinkled with bits of animal fur. His skin was a dull, leathery shade, with green slashes of yarn tying each piece together.” (20:29)
  • The transformation is both literal and metaphorical—Mary’s love is tested by Brock’s monstrous state, yet her recognition and yearning persist.

The Macabre Climax (22:00–29:50)

• Horrifying revelation:
  • Brock’s body is writhing with insects, blood, and the vestiges of failed reanimation.
  • Mary is expected to participate in a gruesome heart transplant using a pot-bellied pig’s heart, but confronts the reality that whatever abides here is no longer her husband.
    • “You aren’t really him, I whispered, more to myself than the thing swarming with infection. Brock. My Brock wasn’t afraid to die. I. I can’t help you. I’m sorry. I can’t.” (28:50)
• Flight from the unnatural:
  • Mary drops the heart and flees the sickening scene, retreating back through the woods to her car, overwhelmed and desperate for escape.
  • As she speeds away, she reflects on how her trauma has permanently changed her—“Bacon just doesn’t taste the same anymore.” (30:22)

A Final Warning (29:50–32:53)

• Address to listeners—and the grieving everywhere:
  • Mary reflects on the nature of grief, warning others against trying to resurrect the dead at any cost.
    • “But you won’t believe me. I know this because I’m alive and living, and only the dead speak in words we understand. Only the dead whisper stories we care for. Why do you think funeral services claim such an awesome turnout? We’re drawn to the siren song of the dead and damned.”
  • She pleads with others to resist the false hope of reunification, encapsulating the episode’s overarching message about the danger and seduction of grief.

Notable Quotes & Memorable Moments

• On love and irrational hope:
  • “You don’t need proof to go searching for your husband, your dead husband. Just how you don’t need proof to know that you still loved them.” — Mary (06:10)
• On the compulsion to seek closure:
  • “Because I think we hunt for answers even when we know the truth can kill. Because even if it kills a part of you, the best part of you, that’s just being human.” — Mary (16:09)
• Encountering the inhuman Brock:
  • “He stared at me with rodent eyes, bright gold things like leprechaun coins. A black snout careened from his face. Jagged, mismatching teeth leered from a mouth wrinkled with bits of animal fur.” — Mary (20:29)
• On grief’s dark allure:
  • “Only the dead speak in words we understand. Only the dead whisper stories we care for. Why do you think funeral services claim such an awesome turnout? We’re drawn to the siren song of the dead and damned.” — Mary (final warning, 32:00)

Key Timestamps

• 02:00 — Beginning of the story; Mary receives Brock’s letter
• 06:10 — Mary expresses her grief-driven logic for answering the letter
• 12:40 — Discovery of the recent photo on Brock’s phone
• 16:09 — Reflection on humanity’s need to seek answers despite knowing the risks
• 20:29 — First encounter with the monstrous Brock in the cabin
• 28:50 — Mary rejects the twisted ritual, flees the cabin
• 32:00 — Mary’s warning to others drawn to the supernatural out of grief

Tone & Atmosphere

• The narration is steeped in moody, poetic language—conjuring vivid sensory imagery and psychological dread.
• The episode builds a mounting sense of unease, climaxing in a grotesque blend of body horror and emotional catharsis.
• The speaker’s tone is raw, vulnerable, and tinged with regret, drawing the audience into Mary’s desperate, haunted mindset.

Takeaway

Over the Hill and Through the Woods is a chilling meditation on grief and the danger of yearning for what is lost. Through Mary’s journey, the episode warns listeners of the costs of refusing to let go—suggesting that the price for one more glimpse of the past may be more terrible than the pain of absence. The story lingers long after with its images of rot, resurrection, and the limits of love.