Nothing could’ve made me prepared to find my wife dead in our cornfield one morning.
I had been married to my beautiful wife for over a decade, and we had built our life together on our small farm in the middle of nowhere. We had always been happy and in love, but on that day, everything changed.
I was out in the fields, tending to the crops, when I saw something that made my blood run cold. There, in the middle of our cornfield, was my wife’s body. Her eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the sky, and her limbs were twisted and bent in ways that no human body should be able to contort.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I stumbled forward, my mind racing with shock and disbelief. How could this be? How could my beloved wife be lying there, dead and mangled in our own field?
As I got closer, I could see that her clothes were torn and her skin was covered in deep cuts and bruises. My mind couldn’t comprehend what had happened to her. I fell to my knees beside her, tears streaming down my face. I was too late. My wife was gone.
I stayed there for hours, holding her hand, trying to make sense of what had happened. But no matter how long I sat there, I couldn’t come up with any explanation for her death. It was as if some unseen force had snatched her away from me, leaving me alone in the world.
I was overwhelmed with grief and shock at the loss of my wife. I couldn’t comprehend how this could have happened and how my beloved partner could be gone in such a violent and brutal way. I felt guilty and responsible for not being able to protect her, this thought consumed me. I was unable to escape the image of her mangled body.
I was consumed by a deep sadness, a feeling of emptiness and despair, knowing I would never be able to see her or hold her again. The love and life we had built together now only served as a painful reminder of what I had lost.
I called the cops. They found nothing. They had no fucking idea what happened with my wife. Someone or something killed her, and they had no idea who or what it was.
I spent the whole day sitting in my room crying. I didn’t eat, and sometimes I drank some whiskey, but I did nothing else. Her body was already transported for further inspection.
Someone killed her. I couldn’t rest until I had answers, so I decided to venture back to the cornfield at night.
As I approached the field, I saw that the ground was covered in a thick, pink, slimy matter. It was a substance that I had never seen before, and it seemed to be seeping out from the ground itself. I couldn’t understand how it could have appeared so suddenly, and my mind raced with confusion and fear.
As I got closer, I realized the stench was unbearable. I had to hold my breath and cover my nose. I saw that it wasn’t just the ground that was covered in the pink slime, but also the corn stalks themselves. They seemed to be wilted and dying, as if the slime was poisoning them. I couldn’t explain what I was seeing, and I felt a sense of dread wash over me.
As I was illuminating the area with my phone, I saw a dead bird stuck in the slime. The poor creature had probably suffocated in that strange matter. I walked there, and touched it, hoping that it was still alive, and I could save it. I hoped I could at least save a bird, if I couldn’t save my own wife.
The bird’s body was already cold. As I touched its body, the slime stuck to my hand, and I couldn’t get it off.
I couldn’t walk any further, the field was full of this sticky slime, I had to go back to my house. I’ll check it out again in the morning, I thought. At least I wasn’t focusing on my wife’s death.
As I turned my back to the field and started walking in the direction of my house, I heard some noise behind me. I looked back and saw the small bird, which I swear was dead half a minute before, was jumping out from the grip of the slime.
“What the fuck?” I raised my eyebrows. “I’m 100% sure it was dead.”
The bird’s feathers were full of that smelly slime, but somehow the small creature could still fly. As it flew away and vanished in the dark, I thought I was going crazy. Maybe it’s just the stress. I need a good sleep…
The bird suddenly appeared again from the night sky, and attacked my face. I fell to the ground and tried to grab the bird, but it was still stabbing my skin with its sharp legs.
As soon as I could grab its neck, I snapped it immediately. It stopped for a second, then started to attack me again. I just couldn’t kill it. I don’t exactly remember how, but I could finally shake it off my head and run back to my house with bloody scars on my face.
I was so tired, I just went to my bedroom, which was our bedroom just a few days before - It was still hard to believe she was gone - and fell asleep in a minute.
The next morning, I woke up early. I had to plan the funeral and inform our relatives about what had happened. I still had no idea what to tell them. As I went back to the cornfield, I was surprised to see that the pink slime was gone. There weren’t any signs it was there the night before. It just simply vanished. I was just hallucinating because of the stress. It’s all because of the stress. It’s totally understandable.
The day quickly went by, and when I arrived back home, I was just as tired as the night before, and I just couldn’t understand why. I wasn’t feeling well.
I froze when I wanted to shower and looked in the mirror. My skin looked pink. It looked like that strange slime… it was leaking out of my skin.
I dressed up again and rushed out to the cornfield. It was full of this slime again, just like last night. I still don’t know what the hell was that strange matter and how did it get to my farm, but I became panicked. It only appeared at night and was gone at daylight. And now it’s in my body too.
I decided to visit a doctor tomorrow, and I went back to my house. Just as I was planning to go inside, I turned back and saw something that made my blood run cold. There, standing in front of me, was my wife. But it wasn’t the woman that I knew and loved, it was something else.
Her body was twisted and contorted, and her eyes were glowing with a sinister red light. She was covered in the same pink slime, and the stench was overwhelming. But what was most terrifying was the sound that came from her mouth, a bloodcurdling scream that seemed to come from the depths of hell.
I felt a sense of overwhelming horror as I realized that this was not my wife, but some kind of twisted, monstrous version of her. I knew that I had to get away, but I was trapped in my own home. I backed away, trying to put as much distance between me and the creature as I could. But it continued to advance, its eyes locked on me, its screams filling my ears.
I felt a sense of despair wash over me as I realized that there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I rushed into the house and closed the doors as she was still beating the walls and windows, screaming.
Now as I’m writing this, I have a feeling I’m gonna die. Maybe my dead wife will kill me, maybe I’ll die by myself. I’m feeling even worse. It’s the slime in my body, I know it. It’s killing things and taking control of their dead body. My wife is still knocking on the windows. I see her twisted face. I’m in tears, first I lost my wife, and now she’s back, but wants to kill me. It’s not her, after all. It’s the thing that had taken over her body.