It was raining when it happened, on that fateful night. I was driving with my wife and son, for a while now. We were on our way to visit my wife’s mother in the hospital. Our journey had taken us down a number of country roads, many of which were flooded. After heading down some obscure lane our car became bogged down in the thick muddy ground. My wife started to panic, as usual – she was always like this in times of crisis. I tried to calm my wife and son down, and reassured them that all would be well. I got out of the car to see badly trapped it was. It was bad, and the car was sinking, slowly. I got back into my car to escape the rain. I tried using my phone to call for help, but there was no signal.
My wife began fretting about the rain again. I got rather angry at her, and her face began to turn incredibly red. I looked away from her to avoid me losing my temper. As I did, I saw a dim light through the imposing cornfield. I told my wife that I would nip over to the house to seek help, and hopefully, find a working phone. I cautiously opened the car door, cringing at the horrible feeling of water entering my trainers. I left my family in the car, as I walked through the fields to the house, I noticed that the farmhouse loomed over me like a leering school headmaster.
I went up to the ancient wooden front door and knocked hard on its surface. There was no reply. Thinking that they may have been asleep, I tried again. After a few moments I heard movements from within. Within a few agonizing minutes I heard someone fumbling with the keys on the other side of the door. When the door opened I was greeted with the sight of an emaciated looking man. He had pallid, grimy looking skin and dark bags beneath his eyes.
"Can I help you?" the man croaked. I explained my situation to him. The man paused for a moment. He turned his back to me and called for his wife. After a few moments I could hear the sound of someone hobbling down the stairs. His wife appeared, with curtains of matted tangled hair vomiting from her scalp. She looked as equally ill as her husband. They were like a married incubus and succubus.
“What do ya want?” the woman moaned.
“I need to phone for some assistance. My car is stuck in the mud, and I need help getting it out.”
“The phones are down! If you fink that you will get some signal instantly, then you are wrong. Come on in. We can’t let you stay out there all alone in the night! Wait in here with us!”
“Oh thank you so much, I’ve just got to tell my wife and child,” I replied anxiously.
“Go on. We’ll be waiting for you,” the haggard old woman said.
As I wandered back into the cold dark cornfield, I heard the sound of something moving in the corn with me. I assumed it was the wind, so I put it from my mind. That was until, I felt something past me from behind. I whipped around hastily in time to see something rushing off through the corn. I figured it was someone from the house, so I called after them, but received no reply. I continued moving through the field. As I was nearly back at my car, I heard laughter, a child’s laughter. I whipped around again, startled. I saw what looked like the silhouette of a young boy moving through the corn.
I continued on my way back to the car. When I arrived I realised something was wrong. Very wrong. I got into the car. My wife was slumped against the window, sleeping. I attempted to wake her, but she did not stir. I looked in the back of the car to see if my son was awake, but he wasn't there. Panicking I began to try and wake my wife again. Still no response. I shook her violently, yelling her name. Her head slumped forwards and detached itself from her lifeless body. I recoiled in horror. Her blood was on her seat and on the inside of her door.
I felt like I was going to throw up all over the car. I held my breath to try and stop the increasing feeling of nausea. I flung the car door open, and as I clambered out, I lost my footing and fell into the freezing mud before me. That’s when I heard it. The laughter. I twisted my neck around and looked back towards the field. To my horror, I saw my son standing there.
His skin had turned to the emaciated quality of the farmer and his wife. I didn't know what to do. Grieve about my wife, or feel some relief that my son had turned up. As I looked at him, he grinned at me. His wide smile made my blood run cold. To my horror, he pulled out a knife from his pocket. He lifted his shirt up slowly, and he began to move the knife ever so closer towards the top of his chest. He plunged it between his ribs, and he sliced down in one, fluid, motion.
Blood tricked out from the wound. He dropped the knife, and pulled the flaps of skin wide open. A long, pale snake-like thing was coiled around his spine and organs. As I watched I felt my eyes burning. I tried to hold back my tears but to no avail. My son laughed and the creature inside him began tightening its grip on his organs, squeezing the life out of him with every contraction.
Finally his organs began leaking fluids and started bursting one by one. His ribs also began to crack and then finally his spine broke. His body snapped forwards and hung limply, his feet supported only by the mud. I heard a horrible gurgling, hissing noise emanating from the creature within him. I saw the old farmer and his wife ambling through the corn. They came to a halt on either side of my son’s body.
The couple knelt down behind my lifeless son. They pulled out a needle and a thread, and they began to stitch his body back together once more. I remained rooted to the spot. Once they finished, the three of them rose up and looked directly into my eyes. The same twisted rictus grin contorted itself upon their faces. They began moving towards me.
They have me here. Help me.
Credited to Callum Daniels