The Curious Case of John Hunt and the Whispering Willows

Ever stumble upon a name that just sticks in your craw, you know? Like a half-remembered tune or a face you’ve seen somewhere but can’t quite place? Well, for the folks down in Oakhaven, that name was John Hunt. Not because he was particularly notorious or anything, mind you. In fact, John Hunt was about as ordinary as a Tuesday afternoon – quiet, kept to himself, always had a polite nod for the postman. But lately, things around Oakhaven had taken a decidedly un-ordinary turn, and John Hunt’s name kept popping up like a stubborn weed in a manicured lawn. Whispers followed him like shadows, and the air crackled with an unspoken curiosity. What in tarnation was going on?