Forget Everything You’ve Heard About Near Death Experiences, What Happened To Me Is So Much More Upsetting

I jerked hard against my seat belt as I felt my car smash into something, but I couldn’t see. I couldn’t see anything. The black pressed in around the windows as whiplash rocked up my spine. Something slammed into the side of my car, but again I was blinded by the endless hallway that continued to grow before me, expanding and now rippling like sound waves were pulsing down the walls towards me.

Pain split my head as it connected with the steering wheel and I felt blood leak into my eyes as they sputtered shut.

And then I was fading.

Goodnight world, sorry about the mess. Something is clearly wrong with me.

I opened my eyes and crawled to my feet. Grass licked my hands and grit clung to my palms. A breeze stirred my hair across my forehead and I placed a hand to my head. No blood. No pain. I continued to inspect myself, noticing almost casually that I wasn’t in my car any longer.

After confirming that I wasn’t injured, I brushed my hands together and looked up, a single thought bubbling to the forefront of my mind.

This is the end of the hallway.

I almost fell back down as the sight before me swarmed my vision with startling absurdity.

I was standing on the edge of grassy cliff overlooking an endless field of green that stretched to the very corners of the horizon. As I squinted down at the world, I realized that the expanse of color wasn’t grass, but cornstalks. Rows and rows of it, tall and ripe and full of life, all swaying happily in the gentle wind.

But there was something…off…about them. I gazed down at fields, scrubbing my eyes, and the impossible sharpened into focus. They weren’t just cornstalks…they were people. But also…corn.

“What on earth…?” I muttered, soaking in the bizarre details of this strange phenomenon.

The corn, or people I should say, were buried in the dirt up to their knees. Their human bodies were naked except for the sheaves and stalks of greenery that jutted from their skin like some kind of growth. Their hair was like golden silk, spilling down their tanned flesh and across the protruding sprouts that rose out of their shoulders, arms, stomach, and legs.

I stepped back from the ledge, mind spinning at the strange sight. The rows of corn people continued to sway in the wind, smiles plastered across their faces like this was all completely normal. There were just so many…

And then I looked into the sky and for a second time, I almost fell back down.

An absolutely massive yellow sun filled the heavens, its blinding rays spilling down onto the corn people like the gentle fingers of a caring mother. In the center of the sun though, was a colossal lever, an odd metal protrusion that contrasted any logical sense I had come to understand.

Gripping the lever, was a titanic creature, looming over the world. It was vaguely human in shape, but bulkier and composed of iron and steam and towering smoke stacks that extending from its shoulders like cannons.

Elias Witherow

Elias is a prolific author of horror fiction. His books include The Third Parent, The Black Farm, Return to the Black Farm,and The Worst Kind of Monsters.

“Growing up reading the works of King, admiring the art of Geiger, and knowing fiends like Pinhead left me as a pretty jaded horror fan today. It takes a lot to get the breath to hitch in my throat and the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end.. My fiance is quite similar, so when he eagerly begged me to let him read me a short story about The Black Farm by Elias Witherow, I knew it had to be good... And I was not dissapointed. Elias has a way of painting a picture that you can feel with all your senses and plays the tunes of terror created when our world meets one much more dark and forces you to keep turning the pages hungry for more.” —C. Houser

Death had other plans for us.

The Farm is in ruins. The Pig has vanished. Everything Nick loves hangs in the balance unless he can find a way to make things right. But at what cost?

Plunge into the darkness with Return To The Black Farm, a new book by prolific horror author, Elias Witherow. Published by Thought Catalog Books.

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