Review: THE BEAR WHO WOULDN'T LEAVE by J. S. Moncrief Release: May 5 2015 In a new line called "Childhood Fears," THE BEAR WHO WOULDN'T LEAVE both awakens memories in adults of those long, lonely, scary nights of childhood, when teddy bears and stuffed animals bring comfort, and introduces that essential criterion of horror, implacability--the entity or force which is unavoidable, inescapable, a Juggernaut of horror. To my mind, horror that is not implacable is not true horror. [Postulate: driving on a four-lane highway with a runaway loaded log truck approaching, with no other traffic, so you can easily pull out of the way (and call 911!)--frightening, yes, but not implacable. Postulate: driving at night, climbing a tightly snaky one-lane mountain road, steep drop-offs on both sides, only to find yourself in the brights of an oncoming overloaded, brakes-out, log truck. Now that's implacability.] Now I read THE BEAR WHO WOULDN'T LEAVE late at night, alone with my canine companion, all doors locked--I should have read in the bright morning light. In this story there are two conjoined entities of evil. I won't say one is scarier than the other, because they are more like two prongs of one tool than separate. One is the eponymous Bear, one is human. Both are implacable. Both will make your hair stand on end, make shivers race like spiders up your spine, and keep you checking your bedcovers, your closet, and behind you. Read this story prepared for the unforgettable and undeniable in horror.