Seed

I’ll be honest: *Seed* messed with me. Not because it’s the scariest thing I’ve ever heard, but because it *feels* true in a way that’s harder to shake. Ahlborn’s horror isn’t about monsters under the bed—it’s about the monsters we *become* when we’re broken young. Jack Winter is the kind of protagonist who makes you squirm: flawed, often unlikable, but impossible to look away from. His childhood sections are brutal in their simplicity—a kid running for his life, no grand explanations, just pure survival instinct. The adult timeline, though, is where the audiobook really grips you. Dove’s performance sells Jack’s quiet desperation, especially in scenes where he’s forced to confront the people (and things) he left behind. The pacing is deliberate, almost oppressive, which works for the most part—until the final act, where the supernatural elements feel slightly rushed compared to the methodical buildup. My two critiques: First, the female characters often feel underdeveloped, serving more as catalysts for Jack’s arc than fully realized people. Second, the sound production is *too* clean—this is a story that begs for ambient noise, the hum of cicadas or the creak of a porch swing, to deepen the immersion. Still, Dove’s narration carries the weight, particularly in the scenes where Jack’s rage boils over. The real triumph here is how Ahlborn weaves folk horror with psychological torment. If you love Southern Gothic with a side of body horror (and a narrator who sounds like he’s got secrets of his own), this is your next listen. Just don’t blame me if you start eyeing cornfields with suspicion afterward.