Read the first chapter below

CHAPTER 1

THE DEER

A dozen freshly dried, hand-painted signs leaned against the white picket fence of the farmhouse. Fall Fest: 5 Miles West! was next to Two miles to go! Don’t get lost before you get to the corn maze! A large Welcome to Hardaway Farms stood on a standalone frame, which was soon to be placed at the end of the long gravel driveway.

The event was in its twenty-seventh year and accounted for almost half of the farm’s revenue. For farmer Terence and his wife Margaret, it was a lot of hard work. Luckily, their experience with the event had honed the family’s preparations. With the festival two weeks away, much of the organization, hiring, and planning was finished. Over the next few days, workers would arrive to start assembling the booths and prizewinning games. Then, Hardaway Farms would play host to two full months of amusement. By now, it was a highly anticipated autumn tradition.

Margaret and Terence sat on the back porch, a quiet pitcher of sweetened iced tea between them. Terence was in his late seventies, a graying man with scruff on his chin. He wore a faded baseball cap, flannel shirt, and work jeans with holes at the seams. Margaret had a denim jacket to keep her warm in the fall breeze. She was in her early seventies; her dyed brown hair gave way to silver roots, and her soft blue eyes were topped by penciled eyebrows.

Together, the two stared out over the corn maze, watching the dry leaves rustle in the wind. The days were still seasonable before the winter came. Dappled sunlight on the stalks created a hypnotic, ever-changing pattern. Margaret and Terence had settled into their rocking chairs, each allowing themself to fall into a slight trance. The golden light seemed almost alive as it moved across the corn. It was flashing, fading, jumping-
Jumping?

Terence squinted towards the light. Were his old eyes playing tricks on him? He rubbed his glasses on his faded flannel shirt, then looked back at the field. He wasn’t quite sure. It looked like a bit of sunlight had leapt up from the corn. Nah, that couldn’t be. He’d just about decided that he had been seeing things when it happened again, this time over to his left.

As soon as he saw it, the flash of light disappeared. He turned to Margaret, who apparently hadn’t noticed. She was sitting comfortably with her hands entwined on her lap. Looking again, in a different area of the field, Terence saw the light hovering above the corn. It moved lazily back and forth, like a beacon in the twilight. Like someone searching with- a flashlight, Terence concluded. He turned to Margaret. “Someone’s out there.”

Margaret jumped, suddenly brought back in the present. She turned to Terence, who gestured to the corn, then pushed himself up from the rocker. Margaret looked out over the field, now squinting herself. Behind her, she heard the door creak open, then closed again.

Terence returned with his shotgun, now headed for the tree line.

“It’s probably just some kids, Ter,” his wife consoled upon seeing the gun.

“I’m not gonna shoot ‘em,” he replied, shrugging. In this case, he’d wished it was high school kids trying to find somewhere to neck. More than once, hunters had made their way onto his property… deer loved corn, after all. Usually, the hunters will turn around without a problem, but sometimes they can be reluctant to leave their quarry. It could have been their flashlights dancing on his crops. Whatever the case, Terence decided it would be better to have the gun.

Ambient light fell as the old farmer stepped between the trees. Many of the tall sycamores had begun to drop leaves with the season, though evergreens still blocked the fading sun. Terence paused a few steps into the tree line and searched between the dense trunks. Darkness seemed to creep towards him from deep in the woods.

“Hey!” he called, raising the shotgun. Terence steeled his expression and looked around again for any signs of movement.

Nothing.

He took another few steps forward. The moist leaves made no noise, aside from the occasional squelch. And then a crack, like a piece of glass snapping underfoot. Terence looked down and jumped backwards, heart hammering in his chest. He’d just trodden on a dead deer. The buck was on its side, its antlers sunk into the mud, twisting the animal’s neck at an odd angle so it was looking almost straight upward. So, there WERE hunters. And yet, as he crouched down, he noticed that something was wrong. Very wrong.

The deer was- Terence searched for a word-crystallized, perhaps? The flesh, even the hair of the animal seemed to have solidified and cracked. In some places the deer had completely shattered, leaving a pile of sharp looking, glass-like shards. He picked one up and examined it. The triangular piece was solid yet delicate, reflecting the little light that had made its way through the trees.

As he held it Terence could scarcely believe his eyes.

The shard began to glow.

No, the shard wasn’t glowing. Heart pounding, Terence realized there was a light approaching in front of him. He dropped the shard and stood up, raising the shotgun in defense. It wasn’t a flashlight. And it was getting brighter.

“What the hell?” Terence aimed the shotgun ahead of him, though he still couldn’t see his target. The light continued to brighten. “Stay where you are!” he yelled, backing up and raising his hand to block the light. “I said, stay where you are!!”

Margaret took a sip of her iced tea. Terence had been gone for a good ten minutes already. If he hasn’t found them by now, she thought, he must have been imagining things. She’d just about drifted back to the taste of her tea when- BANG!

Margaret flinched as the gunshot echoed through the air. Had that been Terence? As she stood and searched the tree line another BANG! rang out.

It had definitely come from the trees. Margaret set her tea down on the old wicker table and stood. A figure, it must have been. Terence, was making its way through the corn.

Stumbling.

Tentatively, Margaret stepped off the patio toward him. Terence’s voice, rasping in the distance, called out to her, “Margaret!”

Margaret’s breath caught. Something was terribly wrong.

“Help!”

“Terence?” she rushed toward his silhouette across the grass, “Terence? What happened?!”

The dying sunlight hit the side of his head and reflected strangely outward, but she didn’t have time to think about that.

“Margaret!” He gargled. She quickened her pace as she saw Terence stumble again. His movements were especially labored, as if his limbs were frozen.

“There’s something in the-” Terence shouted, then tripped. He placed his hands in front of him to brace the fall, but the impact caused… something… to fall from his shoulder. Like a diamond, it reflected the light from the sun. Margaret paused for only the briefest of moments before dashing forward again.

“Terence, what’s wrong?” She was close enough to see his face, but he turned his left side away from her, groaning.

“It’s in the air,” he stammered. “It’s in the light. You can’t see it!”

“Terence, what’s the matter?” she knelt to grab his hand, “What are you talking about?” As if fighting the urge to do so, Terence turned to her- and Margaret screamed.

In place of a cheek and jaw, softly wrinkled with time, were now jagged, sharp-looking shards of solidflesh. Light streamed from between the cracks on Terence’s left side, which crawled across his face. The skin dried and flaked off as the light spread. Whole chunks of what was once Terence’s face fell to the ground.

“Terence!” Margaret cried, but the man that was her husband growled loudly and swiped at her. “What’s going on?” she asked as she edged away. In all their years together he’d never once been violent with her. Terence swiped again and lunged forward, grabbing desperately for Margaret. Stunned, she moved further out of his way. As if possessed, Terence crawled toward her, pieces of crystallized flesh falling from his sleeves and pant legs.

Margaret’s heart pounded, tears flowing freely as she tried to make sense of what was happening. Her husband- if he was still her husband– continued to disintegrate as he moved. Light glowed from the cracks, swallowing what was left of his person. With one final swipe, Terence’s frame cracked under its own weight, and he shattered completely. Limp flannel and denim came to rest over the glowing, grotesque pile.

“Somebody help… Help me!” Margaret managed to let out a strangled cry, though no one was near enough to hear. She picked up a lone shard and stared at it in disbelief. The mass of crystals that was once Terence Hardaway continued to glow, like embers from a spent fire, as Margaret collapsed in shock.

She didn’t notice when they stopped glowing. Or if they had stopped glowing. When she opened her eyes, she didn’t want to look back. She ran inside to phone the police.