text: “Corn, corn, fucking corn. Is that all this place is?” Darrell said, taking a long draw off of his cigarette. &#x200B; John looked up from under the hood of the truck at Darrell with a dissatisfied grimace. &#x200B; “Dude, It was your idea to take a road trip through here” John said, working on something in the engine. &#x200B; Darrell took the last draw off of his cigarette and tossed the butt out into the field, then began walking back towards John &#x200B; “First of all, We’re going to Canada not North Dakota, besides how was I supposed to know our truck would break down in the middle of buttfuck nowhere?” He said, almost sarcastically &#x200B; Darrell walked up besides John and stood next to him, looking at the engine. &#x200B; “Any clue what's wrong with it?” Darrell asked. &#x200B; “Not a fucking clue.” John replied. &#x200B; John slammed the hood shut before angrily shouting a barrage of expletives out into the fields, but was stopped by the honking of another truck coming down the road. &#x200B; John and Darrell watched as the truck slowed down and parked in front of them and as the driver got out to greet them. &#x200B; The driver was a relatively average looking fellow, standing at about average height, albeit slightly overweight. &#x200B; He was obviously a farmer judging by his attire, that being a dirt stained and heavily worn orange t-shirt with the slogan “Williams County Corn Fest 1993” emblazoned across the chest in bright white lettering, paired with a pair of old, beaten up blue jeans. &#x200B; “Yall in need of any help ere’?” The stranger called out as he approached the brothers. &#x200B; “I mean, It’s awful late for y'all to be sitting out here in t’ middle of t’ fields.” He continued on. &#x200B; “I suppose” Darrell responded, lighting up another cigarette. &#x200B; John turned around to face the man. &#x200B; “What seems to be t’ problem ere’?” The stranger said, popping the hood of the truck as he put on a pair of wire-framed reading glasses. &#x200B; “We were just coming down the road here when we heard a loud rattling, a few seconds later the car just kinda died” John clambered in a frustrated tone. &#x200B; The stranger examined the engine for a moment before gently shutting the lid and putting his glasses back into his pocket. &#x200B; “Well, t’ problem ye have ere’ ain’t somethin’ we can fix on the spot ere’” He said. &#x200B; “I’ll have to run down to t’ hardware store later t’morrow to get ye’ the parts ye’ need” He continued. &#x200B; “In the mean time, I got some empty rooms back at my place yall can stay in fer’ the night, Consider it a favor” He said in a reassuring tone. &#x200B; The brother’s eyes lit up. &#x200B; “You’d really help us out like that?!” John exclaimed. &#x200B; The stranger gave him a calming smile. &#x200B; “O’ Course I would!” He chuckled. &#x200B; “After all, T’ Good Book does tell us t’ treat people t’ way ye’ want t’ be treated” The stranger said. &#x200B; He began leading the brothers back to his truck, gesturing for them to hop into the back, seeing as the only passenger seat was taken by backpack full of tools. &#x200B; “T’ name’s Tim by t’ way” The stranger said as he started his truck. &#x200B; The Brother’s both introduced themselves while climbing over the tailgate. &#x200B; The three rode in the truck for a few moments in complete silence. &#x200B; After a while, Darrell decided to try to strike a conversation. &#x200B; “So, do you work here?” He asked, looking around at the seemingly infinite fields. &#x200B; “Yep!” Tim exclaimed. &#x200B; “As a matter O’ fact, I own all these ere’ fields! All 234 Acres!” He continued. &#x200B; “234 Acres!” Darrell asked, clearly shocked. &#x200B; “Mhm. Me great great granpa bought around 90 acres when he was around 30 or so, Then me great granpa bought another 40. So on and so on I suppose.” Tim said. &#x200B; “That’s pretty cool!” John said &#x200B; “So all you grow is corn?” Darrell asked. &#x200B; “Yep, but not just any corn! Our corn ere’ is t’ pride of Dakota! Because t’ kernels of our corn aren’t yellow, they grow blood red. And they have a sweet, but somewhat tangy flavor compared to yellow corn” Tim explained. &#x200B; John looked confused &#x200B; “Your corn is red? But, how?” John asked. &#x200B; “No clue, Something my great great granpappy figured out, took t’ secret to t’ grave though, all t’ corn you see around ere’ is t’ same strain from all those years back” Tim said. &#x200B; The brothers looked at each other for a moment before falling back into silence. &#x200B; After a few moments, they pulled up to a small farmhouse sitting in the middle of the fields. &#x200B; “We’re here!” Tim said, getting out of the truck. &#x200B; The brothers followed Tim into the house. &#x200B; Tim led them into the living room of the house and gestured them towards a sofa in the middle of the room. &#x200B; “Yall fellas hungry at all?” Tim asked. &#x200B; “I could go for a bite.” Darrell said, making himself comfortable on the sofa. &#x200B; Tim walked into the kitchen and came back a moment later, and gave each Brother a plate of a sandwich, potato chips, and an ear of the blood red corn, still on the cob. Along with a can of Coke for John and a Light Beer for Darrell. &#x200B; “No offense kid, but I don’t think yer of age fer a can o’ spuds” Tim said, handing John the soda. &#x200B; John looked over at Darrell as Darrell let out a small chuckle. &#x200B; “How’d you know?” John asked. &#x200B; Tim sat in a recliner on the other side of the room from the boys and opened his own can of beer. &#x200B; “Yer wearing yer Letterman jacket.” Tim said. &#x200B; “As fer yer brother, I could tell he was of age from his smoking.” Tim continued. &#x200B; “Fair enough” John said, before beginning to eat. &#x200B; John was the first to bite into the corn, the second he did, his eyes lit up in surprise. &#x200B; “This is... a unique flavor.” He said. &#x200B; “Like, It’s not bad... it's pretty good, but it kinda tastes like... meat?” He said. &#x200B; Darrell, after seeing his brother’s reaction, quickly bit into his cob and his eyes too, lit up the same way. &#x200B; “Holy shit” Darrell said. &#x200B; Tim looked over at the two with a wide grin before letting out a hearty chuckle. &#x200B; “Yall ain’t from ere’ ain’t ya?” Tim asked. &#x200B; “We’re actually on a road trip, We came from Nebraska.” Darrell said, swallowing the mouthful of corn. &#x200B; “That’ll explain it” Tim said. &#x200B; “Yep, this is my pride and joy ere’, this is t’ only place in t’ whole wide world ye’ can get our corn” Tim said proudly. &#x200B; The three continued on talking for a while, well into the evening, before eventually Tim got up out of his seat. &#x200B; “Well, I’m gonna hit t’ hay for t’ night, yall make yourselves comfortable, there’s a guest room with enough beds for yall upstairs. Help yourselves t’ whatever is in t’ kitchen and feel free t’ go pick some fresh ears o’ corn” Tim said. &#x200B; “Just one thing, Stay out of t’ shed” Tim said, in an unusually stern voice than his usual jolly nature, before walking down the hall to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. &#x200B; Darrell immediately got up and walked out to the porch to go smoke. He was followed closely behind by John, who sat on the rocking chair next to Darrell. &#x200B; “This corn is fucking weird man” John said, looking out into the fields. &#x200B; “If you ask me, it's just a weird gimmick, I’m sure it's just normal red corn thats specially seasoned or something.” Darrell said, lighting his cigarette. &#x200B; “I don’t think so.” John said, getting out of the chair. &#x200B; John walked down the stairs leading off of the porch and across the road to the fields. A few minutes later he came back with a few ears of corn, straight off of the stalk. &#x200B; “Better yet, let’s test your theory.” John said, laying the corn down on the chair. &#x200B; Darrell put out his cigarette and began to walk back inside. &#x200B; “You do that, I’m going to bed” Darrell said shutting the door behind him. &#x200B; John scoffed and sat on the patio and grabbed an ear of corn. &#x200B; Slowly he started peeling off the layers of husk surrounding the fruit of the ear. &#x200B; Layer after layer, he peeled back the husk. Before eventually reaching the cob. &#x200B; “Wait a second” John said &#x200B; “Why is it white? I thought it was supposed to be red?” John murmured, clearly confused. &#x200B; He peeled away the rest of the husk to leave just the cob without anything covering it, but he still couldn’t see it well due to the lack of light. &#x200B; Curiously he pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned on it’s flashlight and was shocked by what he saw. &#x200B; “Are those fucking teeth?” He said, running his finger along the kernels. &#x200B; He grabbed the cob and smacked it against the floor of the patio. &#x200B; Instead of it sounding like a vegetable like he expected, the cob sounded almost like he was smacking the ground with a bone. &#x200B; “It can’t be.” John said &#x200B; “This has got to be some fucked up prank” He continued on. &#x200B; Curiously, he grabbed his pocket knife and placed the blade between the kernels and cut the cob in half. &#x200B; The moment he did, a gush of liquid burst out of where he cut the cob. &#x200B; He held up his light to see what it was only to see that the liquid was a deep color of crimson that could only come from the spilling of fresh blood. &#x200B; John help up one half of the cob and looked at the core of the ear. &#x200B; Instead of a white, stringy center, it was red and fleshy, almost as if it was more animal than a crop. &#x200B; John let out a shriek and threw the cob back out into the field, before running back into the house and straight up the stairs to the room where his brother was supposed to be, only to find he wasn’t there. &#x200B; John frantically ran around the room, trying to find out where Darrell went, only to come out empty handed. &#x200B; John tried to run out the door, only to be stopped by Tim, who was standing in the doorway. &#x200B; “Why t’ long face?” Tim asked &#x200B; John turned white as he looked up at Tim. &#x200B; “Where is he?!” John demanded. &#x200B; “Oh Darrell? Well, I asked him t’ run outside and grab something for me, out of t’ shed.” Tim replied. &#x200B; “I thought you said to stay out of there?” John asked, confused and frightened. &#x200B; “I trust him much more than 20 something year old kid.” Tim said. &#x200B; “Sorry fer not tellin’ ya’ I didn’t want t’ hurt yer feelins’” He continued &#x200B; Tim looked around and then back at John. &#x200B; “What do ye’ say we go down t’ the livin’ room and see if anythin’ good is on TV” Tim asked, trying to calm John down. &#x200B; “No!” John shouted, shoving his way past Tim and bolting down the hallway. &#x200B; “Fuck this and fuck you! I’m gonna go find him!” He screamed. &#x200B; John quickly ran down the stairs and out the door, without missing a step he looped around the back of the house to the shed in the backyard. &#x200B; “FERTILIZER PROCESSING” Was painted in white paint above the door. &#x200B; John quickly flung open the door and ran in. &#x200B; “Darrell! Where are you?!” He shouted, falling to his knees. &#x200B; He looked around the shed before he noticed a hatch on the ground under a table. &#x200B; Frantically, he unhitched the latch holding the door shut and flung it open. &#x200B; He quickly climbed down the ladder and landed in a room that smelled foul. &#x200B; It was the worst smell John had ever experienced, a smell that cried out that death was near. Albeit, a futile warning. &#x200B; “What the actual fuck is going on right now?” John said, looking around trying to find a lightswitch to no avail. &#x200B; As a last resort, he pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight. &#x200B; It was horrendous. &#x200B; The floors, which were a gray industrial concrete were stained with the same shade of crimson John had seen come out of the corn earlier. &#x200B; There were long chains hanging from the ceiling, each with meat hooks on the end of them. &#x200B; “Who the hell builds a top secret meat locker?” John said to himself. &#x200B; John took a second to look around the room before finding a small freezer in the very back. &#x200B; Slowly he opened it and saw the face of Darrell staring back at him with lifeless eyes. Along with the rest of his body, neatly filleted into pieces small enough to fit in the freezer. &#x200B; John was speechless as he began to panic, but his fear was shortlived. &#x200B; The last thing John heard was Tim’s voice behind him as the blade of the hatchet chopped into the back of his skull. &#x200B; “All ye had t’ do was come and watch TV wit’ me boy.