I Interviewed The Tenner Family About The ‘Incident’ In Their Cornfield (Part 3)


Read part 1 of this interview here.

Read part 2 of this interview here.


October 19th, 2016

(Audio recorder initiated)

ME: You ok, Jake?

JAKE: (distracted) Hm? Yes, yes…I’m just little nervous.

ME: There’s no need to be. We’ll go at a pace you’re comfortable with, alright?

JAKE: Yes, that’s fine. Thank you. I just…

ME: What is it?

JAKE: I’m worried about how people are going to take this.

ME: The interview?

JAKE: Yeah…I’m just…

ME: Take your time, Jake.

(Author’s note: Jake covered his pale face in his hands and seemed distraught or ashamed. His eyes were red rimmed and he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks)

JAKE: (hesitant) I’ve just been having a hard time living with myself after what happened.

ME: What do you mean?

JAKE: How am I supposed to look at Ross? How can he ever trust me ever again?

ME: You’re referring to your role in the events that transpired? When your daughter Clare spotted you disappearing into the cornfield?

JAKE: Oh god…

ME: Take a breath, Jake. You want some water?


ME: Can we back up? Are you ok with that?

JAKE: Alright.

ME: Before the night you went into the cornfield, had you previously been exposed to what was happening?

JAKE: (whispers) Oh yes…

ME: How so?

(Author’s note: Jake turned to me and I saw darkness in his eyes. It frightened me and I felt him preparing the next sentence like a crack of lighting)

JAKE: Because I had seen the fucking thing.

ME: You saw…Cloo?

JAKE: That’s right.

ME: When was this?

JAKE: A couple weeks before Ross came into our room and put that clay over my eyes.

ME: So what happened?

JAKE: I had gotten up for a drink of water. House was quiet, ‘cept for the usually stirrings. I got a drink from the sink and then went to check on the kids. I do that sometimes…just to make sure they’re asleep and ok.

ME: I see.

JAKE: So I go out of the bedroom and the stairs leading to the ground level are on my left. You follow?

ME: So far.

JAKE: Well, I kinda froze up at the top of the stairs. Because there was something down there looking up at me.

ME: Can you describe what you saw?

JAKE: (voice hoarse) I ain’t ever seen anything like it. It was horrifying in its simplicity. It looked like blue clay. Like someone had started to mold a human figure out of it. Cept it wasn’t complete. It was about six feet tall. It stood on two legs and it’s feet were just rounded nubs. It had no arms, no head, just a perfectly smoothed torso like someone had forgotten to attach the rest of its parts. There were no indentations, no curves to its figure. It was just a molded block of clay with two legs. And it was just…standing there…at the bottom of the stairs…completely motionless.

ME: Shit…

JAKE: I just stared at it for a second, unable to comprehend what I was seeing. I kept waiting for it to move or disappear but it didn’t. It just stayed like that…watching me…I could feel its energy rippling up the stairs in great big waves, heat like you wouldn’t believe.

ME: Why do you think you could see it?

JAKE: I don’t know…maybe it needed me to in order to…to take control…

ME: What did you did?

JAKE: After a couple seconds of standing there, I finally closed my eyes and counted to ten. I thought I was dreaming. When I opened them again…it was gone.

ME: Was that the only time you saw it?

JAKE: No…I began seeing it everywhere. In the fields…standing on the roof of the barn…in the broom closet…always just…watching me. It never moved. Not once did it move. I thought I was losing my mind.

ME: Did you ever tell your family about it?

JAKE: No sir. I didn’t want to scare them. I thought I was just going crazy. I ended up talking to our pastor about it one day after service. I explained the energy I felt flowing off this thing…this creature…that horrible heat and this terrible weight, kinda like sadness.

ME: What’d your pastor say?

JAKE: He told me I was stressed out and overworked. He urged me to rest and stay out of the sun. Like that would have done any good.

ME: He didn’t believe you?

JAKE: Hell, would you?

ME: I suppose not.

JAKE: Exactly. So I just chose to ignore it. It wasn’t harming anyone, after all. It would just…watch me and give off that negative energy.

ME: Were you aware that Ross was seeing it as well?

JAKE: Not at the time, no. God knows I wish I had. Maybe then I could have done something more than I did.

ME: Speaking of Ross, how much do you remember about that night you went into the cornfield?

JAKE: Not much. I remember hearing Ross at my bedside, but nothing after that. Maybe bits and pieces, like a dream.

ME: Do you remember him putting the clay over your eyes?

JAKE: Just a sudden coolness settling over me.

ME: You don’t remember clearing a circle in the corn?


ME: What about the markings? Do you remember tilling them into the earth?

JAKE: (whispers) No…

ME: Do you recall what you made out of the dirt and mud?

JAKE: Only cause what people told me. I’m sorry….I don’t want to talk about that anymore. I…I don’t like thinking about it. About how if I didn’t…then Ross…

ME: You had no idea what you were doing, Jake. You can’t blame yourself.

JAKE: Yeah, but I still did it. I still made that…that fucking-

(Author’s notes: Jake balled his hands into fists and I could sense he was beginning to unravel. I quickly took the conversation to the final night of the occurences)

ME: The night it all happened…when Ross went into the field… you were completely in control of yourself, correct?

JAKE: (quietly) Yes…

ME: Can you explain where you were when that all went down?

JAKE: (sighs heavily) I’m not proud of it, but I was drinking in the barn. You have to understand, this shit had been going on for weeks and I wasn’t sure if I was still sane or not. I needed a nip now and again, you understand?

ME: Of course.

JAKE: Well…I wasn’t too deep into the bottle, thank the good Lord, when I heard Ross crying outside. I peeked my head out the barn and saw him walking into the cornfield. Now, he knows he ain’t suppose to go in there at night on account of getting lost. But there he was, crying his eyes out and walking into the field.

ME: What did you do?

JAKE: I was going to holler at him, but as soon as I opened my mouth…I saw it.

ME: Cloo?

JAKE: Don’t call it that.

ME: I’m sorry…that’s just the name your son provided the papers.

JAKE: I know and it makes us all sound like a buncha loonies. That fucking thing…was a faceless, nameless mass of negative energy and ill intentions. That monster was evil incarnate and when I went to call my son, that towering abnormality was standing right before me, plain as day. I felt my heart seize up and the air between us kind of…shimmered…like heat over hot tar, you know? Well…it kinda forced me back into the barn and that’s when I heard Mary screaming and chasing after Ross. She knew what was going on…unbeknownst to me. Shit if she hadn’t gone after him that night…if she hadn’t pulled him out…

ME: Let’s focus on you, Jake. What did you do after you were forced back into the barn?

JAKE: After a couple minutes, that thing vanished. Like it wanted to make sure Ross made it out to the clearing…

ME: But you didn’t go after them, did you?

JAKE: No…no I didn’t.

ME: You went back into the house, correct?

JAKE: Once that horrible clay statue disappeared, I hauled ass back into the house.

ME: What were your intentions?

JAKE: I was getting my shotgun. I wanted to blow that thing away. I knew it was evil and that it was fucking with my family. It kills me I waited so long…almost too long…

ME: And you saw something in the house? You mentioned this to the papers briefly, but I wanted to clarify because I think it’s very important.

JAKE: Yes…halfway up the stairs to retrieve my gun, I saw something standing in the hallway. Right there in the middle of the hallway.

ME: What was it?

JAKE: It was a little clay sculpture about four inches tall. It looked exactly like what I had seen at the bottom of the stairs, ‘cept smaller.

ME: And what did you do?

JAKE: I don’t know why…but I marched right over to it and stomped it to bits. But right as I did so, I looked up and saw the larger version standing in Ross’s bedroom. Even though it didn’t have eyes, I could tell it was staring daggers at me. Well…I didn’t give it another second of my time and I smashed the little miniature to pieces.

ME: And it vanished. The big one.

JAKE: Like smoke in the rain. Ross’s room was suddenly empty, along with the horrible energy I felt in the house.

ME: At that point, Mary had already saved Ross and was dragging him out of the cornfield, right?

JAKE: I raced back downstairs and saw them both struggling toward the house. When I laid eyes on Ross…I…I…aw shit…

(Author’s note: Jake began to cry and seemed unwilling to go on. I didn’t press him. We ended the interview and he left in a state of despair) Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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

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