Alfred Mankel forced his eyes to open.  He was relieved that he was still alive but very confused as to where he was or what had happened.  Two hours ago he was heading to his car happy that the weekend was finally over and he could relax for a few days.  As he opened his car he was hit in the back of the head and that was all he could remember.  He had no idea how much time had past or where he was.  His head was pounding from a massive headache and his vision was still pretty blurry but his instincts kicked in and he began to assess his situation.  First he did a slow pat down on his body checking for wounds, other than the splitting headache he seemed to be fine physically, next he started to take inventory of his possessions.  He had been in the army for six years and spent two years as a policeman before he became an attorney and he wasn’t surprised that the skills came back so quickly even though he hadn’t used them in quite a while.  He finished his inventory check and it seemed as if he had been robbed since all of his belongings other than the clothes on his back had been pilfered.  A small sigh of relief escaped his lips as he realized that it could have been a lot worse, his car and his possessions could be replaced, his life was a different story.  His first thoughts had been that someone he had put away in the past might be out for revenge but he was the District Attorney for a small farming county in the middle of Wisconsin, most of the people he sent to jail were drunks or petty thieves.  His vision had returned to almost normal as he got himself to his feet and looked upward, his best guess to see where he was and how long he had been out would lie in the position of the stars or moon.  Of course it didn’t surprise him that the air was thick with a late autumn fog.  He just shook his buzzing head slowly and turned his attention to his immediate surroundings, Murphy’s law stated that when something goes wrong it is only going to get worse before it gets better, so Alfred waited for his eyes to adjust to the almost complete darkness.  His other senses also started to kick in and his ears and nose almost simultaneously sent his brain critical information on his whereabouts while his eyes were busy.  The smell of dead corn and the sounds of mice scurrying had placed him in a corn field.  “Fantastic!”  He said out loud, “This is all I need.”  With no stars to guide him and almost zero visibility and a mild concussion the last place Alfred Mankel wanted to be was a cornfield.  His worst fear was to be lost in a cornfield at night, again.  Thirty years ago when he was just a small boy he had wandered into his Grandfather’s field and got lost.  He spent six long and frightful hours lost and alone, his small child imagination had filled his head full of visions of murderous scarecrows, man-eating rats, werewolves and much worse.  He had never set foot in a cornfield since, until now.  As soon as his mildly rattled brain had put two and two together he crashed onto the cold ground and curled up into a fetal position.  He instantly reverted back to his childhood as the horrible feeling of hopelessness began to grip his body.

As he lay in a ball sobbing uncontrollably his ears started to pick up every crackle and snap that reverberated from the corn filled darkness that engulfed him.  “Alfie.”

He stopped sobbing and peeked his eyes out from their hiding spot.  He was certain someone had just called him.  He sat up and strained to hear the voice again.  After a second or two, “Alfie.”  That time it was much louder and much more sinister.  The words slipped into his ears and instantly rode his spine from head to foot.  He jumped up with as much gusto and mock anger as he could muster, “Who are you?”

A few moments of silence passed and during that time Alfred had decided that his best bet was to put his big boy pants on and walk out of the corn maze he was currently stuck in and the fact that someone was whispering his name rather sinisterly made it much easier.  As long as he stayed in a straight line and just walked he would eventually get out, he just had to keep his wits about him and ignore his fear induced imagination.  He dropped to his knees and swept his hands around searching on the ground for a stick or something to use as a weapon if needed.  He was going to have to be content with a palm sized rock, he pocketed it, took a deep breath and started into the darkness.  He got about two feet into his journey when the disembodied voice spoke again, “Alfie.”   Alfred screamed as warm breathe washed over his neck, the voice was right behind him! He dug his hand in his pocket and whirled around screaming with rock in hand.  He swung his rock fist in an angry arc from left to right hitting nothing but air.  He had spun in a complete circle, yelling the whole time, as his 360 degree flailing ended he fell to his knees and began to sob again.  “What do you want!”  He said through a dry and crackled voice.  His screams had essentially dried his throat worse than the Sahara. 

“Alfie!”  This time the voice was loud and full of menace.  Alfred was losing it, fear and panic had overtaken his body, as the voice boomed again, “AAAAALLLLFFFFIIIEE!!”

As his body locked up in utter fear, his brain tried desperately to keep him together. “Get up! Run you idiot!”  His brain was screaming inside his head, while the cries of Alfie outside intensified. Now it seemed to crackle with evil, as a chorus of ghoulish voices cried his name louder and louder.  He wasn’t surprised to feel warmth spread throughout his brand new Hugo Boss pants as he voided his bladder.  The voices seemed to be closing in on him, circling him, some were laughing while others continued their blood curdling name dropping.  Suddenly they all stopped and Alfred could feel them dissipate back into the cornrows around him.  He was still on his knees but now his body began to work, he wiped the tears from his eyes with his sleeve as his hand cleared his face he looked directly into the corn to see a dark man standing over him with what looked to be a pitchfork.  “Alfie” he whispered.  The other voices came back just as suddenly as they left and picked up right where they left off, calling and cackling as they spun around him.  The dark man raised the deadly farming tool above his head as Alfred forced his throat to at least attempt one last scream.

“You got away 30 years ago, I have waited for you all this time.”  The pitchfork streaked downward slamming into Alfred’s chest, the deadly tines ripped through flesh and shattered ribs not stopping until his heart was pinned to the blood soaked ground underneath him.  His last feeble attempt at a scream came out nothing more than a blood filled gurgle as the life left his broken and shattered body.      THE END

PEACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!