Beware of creepy old towns. They might just decide to sacrifice you for their corn. This is a story first written in 1984 by Stephen King which is oddly similar to the story he wrote together with his son (Joe Hill) called “In the tall grass“. The idea that folk sacrifice travelers to keep their crop strong is not uncommon and this story is a little bit better and a little bit creepier than the ones I have heard before.
Read on for a short preview:
Burt turned the radio on too loud and didn’t turn it down because they were on the verge of another argument and he didn’t want it to happen. He was desperate for it not to happen.
But since they left the pike, it had been bad again. How bad? Well, terrible,actually.
Burt sat straight behind the T-Bird’s wheel, hands still gripping it loosely. He was aware of nothing for a long time but the rich, dark smell of fertilizer.
burt knelt and turned the body over gently.
Burt got up and put his arms around Vicky as she began to sway. ‘Don’t faint,’he said very quietly. ‘Do you hear me, Vicky? Don’t faint.’
burt made a surprised grunting sound. Vicky jumped.
burt glanced at it. ‘Hopalong Cassidy, I think.’
bare feet. Above, four letters also raised from the bonewhite cob: I N R I.
the sight of that hick one-timetable town dozing in the sun should have brought a lump of dread into his throat.
burt pulled obediently to the curb.
Sight unseen. Sight unseen. Sight unseen.
but they must do something different out here, he thought. The smell was closebut not the same. There was a sickish-sweet undertone. Almost a death smell. Asa medical orderly in Vietnam, he had become well versed in that smell.
but it pushed in easily on silent, well-oiled hinges (reverently oiled, hethought, and that seemed funny for no really good reason) and he stepped into avestibule so cool it was almost chilly. It took his eyes a moment to adjust tothe dimness.
but what had happened then?
but the Old Testament was intact.
burt felt a chill creep into his flesh.
but let’s look at Rachel Stigman, who was Donna Stigman until 1964. She turnednineteen on 21 June, just about a month ago. Moses Richardson was born on 29
burt licked his lips, which felt dry.
but how could such a thing be kept secret? How could it goon?
burt jumped from the pulpit and ran down the centre aisle. He threw open theouter vestibule door, letting in hot sunshine, dazzling. Vicky was bold up right behind the
steering wheel, both hands plastered on the horn ring, her head swivelling wildly. From all around the children were coming. Some of them were laughing gaily. They held knives, hatchets, pipes, rocks, hammers. One girl, maybe eight,with beautiful long blonde hair, held a jackhandle. Rural weapons. Not a gunamong them. Burt felt a wild urge to scream out:
Which of you is Adam and Eve?