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

Suddenly, Bip pointed out over the cliff, “Look! There’s a Crow now! He’s going to spray all the parents down there!” He started bouncing up and down excitedly, “It’s time! It’s time! Oh boy mister Jack, you’re in for a show!”

Bewildered, I turned my back to the strange corn child and stared out across the fields below me. My eyes grew wide as something grew along the horizon, a massive shape walking on spindly legs between the rows of human stalks.

It was an enormous scarecrow. Its overstuffed head spilled hay like hair beneath a wide brimmed hat. Its clothes were rags that hung over an impossibly thin body, its arms extending to end in fingers like mangled bales of straw. Its shadow sprawled long across the rows of corn people as it made its way through them, its legs taking it through the rows in long strides.

As it walked, it suddenly pulled its baggy pants down and I felt my stomach flip as something long and brown flopped into its hay filled fingers. Without slowing, it began to stroke the odd member, shucking it vigorously into erection.

Nauseous waves churned my gut and I took a step back as the Crow began to spray gouts of yellow goo from its horrible erection over the waiting fields of people. A cry of elation rose from the waiting subjects below, hands upraised and mouths open as the subjects were splattered with the disgusting substance.

As soon as the corn people were sprayed, they began to pull themselves from the soil. I watched in horror as they found one another, wrapping their bodies together in lustful urgency.

And then they began to fuck.

Hundreds of thousands of them, all covered in the Crow’s goo, pulling their legs from the earth and desperately falling into a pile of ecstasy and desire. It didn’t seem to matter who they were fucking, each person grabbing the closest body and pulling themselves together to fulfill a sudden sexual hunger. Moans filled the sky and I placed a hand over my mouth in disgusted shock.

“Told you,” Bip suddenly said at my side. I looked down and saw him standing next to me, arms crossed, a smile on face.

I quickly covered his eyes, “Hey don’t watch this!”

He slapped my hand away, “Let me SEE! I’m not a BABY.”

I subsided, too enraptured by the mountains of corn people lost in rolling passion and sexual lust. The scarecrow continued its trek across the field, still spraying its ooze over the waiting crowds, all of this observed by the towering metal giant turning the gear in the sun.

“This is so fucked up,” I whispered.

Bip giggled, “No it’s not. This is how we live here in Cog 7.”

My eyes never left the fields of endless fucking, voice a whisper, “Cog 7?”

Bip nodded matter-of-factly, “Yeah, that’s where this is dummy. It’s a Rain Drop world.”

Still watching the Crow, I asked in awe, “What does that mean?”

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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