In the deepest heart of rural Kentucky, there is a community of “plain people” even more separatist and reclusive than the mainstream Amish. They are the Amish of the Amish—the Rebel Amish—and they hide a murderous secret disguised as a myth.
Night of the Bunnyman is an 8,000-word novelette.
My Rating & Review
As a teenager growing up in the Central Texas woods of twisted mesquites, prickly pears, and brutal jumping cactus, I’ve hunted my fair share of rabbits. I’ve skinned a few, too. I vividly remember hanging their hind legs off a gnarled limb with a bit of baling wire, then exposing their thin, red bodies as I stripped their fur off in one long sheet. As I read Bunker ‘s Bunnyman those memories came flooding back to me. Other than this, my memories have nothing else to do with the story. I digress.
I’ve read several of Bunker’s stories, and have appreciated them all, in one way or another. This one also delivers. In it, Bunker’s storytelling tone is conversational, which is nice. Plus, the story held my attention to the end. Lately, I’ve found my mind wandering when trying to read. That’s frustrating as I thought I was doomed to never enjoy a story again. Turns out I was just going through the motions. Or something.
Anyway, the story has some violence, but it’s necessary for it to be told. it is horror, after all, so there’s that.
What I appreciate most about Bunnyman is it blurs the line between legend and reality. It’s a make-believe story that seems believable. Plus, broadfall pants makes a cameo appearance. You cannot have a proper Bunker story without broadfalls.
That’s pretty much it for this review. Bunnyman’s a good story. Buy it and read it. And never kill what you don’t intend to eat.