Haley Thistle
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The God in the Field: Part Two (complete)
🕑 Added 2020-10-30 19:00:03 +0000 UTC
The ground was frozen, crunching as I walked over it. Every so often I felt as though something was watching me. I would turn and look around, only to find an endless sea of tall grass behind me. As I ventured deeper, the field turned from grass to corn. High stalks rose further above my head. Soon it became so thick, I could barely see the sky above me, only the purple wisps at the cornstalks’ peaks.
I stalled somewhere along the path; it felt like I was going backwards and forwards at the same time. Glancing over my shoulder, I looked back the way I came. The path looked more worn behind me than it did before; ahead of me, it still seemed a bit soft, more new. I looked up at the sky, seeing no clouds nor birds passing by. Birds were rare back home, and I rarely ever saw any that weren’t chickens or ravens.
My mother used to tell me that ravens were intelligent, and the only reason the field didn’t take them was because they were harbingers and they passed their knowledge and songs to the god in the field. “He turns their calls into hymnals, their voices into prayers,” she told me one night after my father had gone into the field.
She was braiding my hair, and her fingers felt cold. I had been reading the Wizard of Oz, and I asked her why there were no scarecrows at any of the farms or gardens in town. “The Ravens take their knowledge to the god,” my mom continued. “They are his angels and messengers, so we do not want to scare them away.” She smiled and kissed the top of my head, her cold fingers touching my cheeks as she did so.
I saw no angels in this field. I wanted to see an angel, but I told myself I would have to wait for one. Angels didn’t just show up for anybody. I continued back along the path and let it lead me.
It grew dark, but I knew it had been only a few hours since I walked in. I was beginning to grow tired, but I urged myself further in. I heard a cry that startled me, and a raven flew from the stalks in front of me. I jumped back, nearly losing my breath. The raven flew out again, rustling my hair and making me fall to the ground. Looking up, I saw the raven rise into the sky, moving in the direction of a slight gap in the cornstalks.
After picking myself up, I followed the raven, cutting through the stalks until I came upon a new path. I followed it, even as the raven dipped beyond my view. It called to me, leading me to a decrepit house that was leaning towards the side. The screen door hung from a single hinge, and the rocking chair on the porch had fallen on its side.
The raven waited on the porch, fluffing its wings and tilting its head. I approached the porch and carefully stretched out my hand. The raven snapped at me, biting my finger and making it bleed.
It remained there, staring at me as I contemplated my bleeding finger. “I thought angels were supposed to be nice!” I snapped at it, then sighed. “I’m sorry. I suppose I don’t like being touched without permission, either.”
The raven flapped its wings and croaked.
“You probably know my name already, but I’m Sigrun.”
The raven just stared at me. I walked into the old home, finding the kitchen to one side, and a bed on the other. I found water dripping from the faucet, and when I turned it on, by some miracle it worked. I drank my fill, and even made myself a little sick from drinking so much. The raven flew into the house and perched on the bedframe.
I collapsed in the bed, resting there for a moment. I shivered with cold, but there were no blankets to keep me warm. I tucked myself into my coat, and through the window I saw figures standing outside the windows. Their forms took shape for only a moment before they faded. I had barely seen them, but I felt as if I knew them. They watched me, tapping on the glass before they blew away with the wind.
The raven croaked and gurgled, settling in and tucking its head under its wing. I stared at it until I felt myself drift to sleep as well. I closed my eyes as someone whispered my name from the window.
I woke later to hear the raven’s cry, but it looked like nothing had changed or time had passed. The raven flew outside, screaming like a banshee as it went. I rose from the bed and walked outside onto the porch. The raven was gone into the distance already, flying above the rustling stalks. Something was out there, waiting for me. It was coming closer, but it didn’t want me here. It merely wanted me to find this place, to rest, and then I was to keep going.
I stepped off the porch again, found the path and started walking. I could feel it coming close and breathing on me, but it did not try to touch me. I simply kept walking, letting the path lead me along. I was supposed to be here, so I already knew the way.
To my surprise, I could hear others in the field. They were walking alongside me, their voices hushed and quiet as they talked to themselves. They thought they were alone, but they were traveling in a group. I could hear a woman weeping quietly, cursing under her breath. I could see her through the grass, wearing dirty shorts and a tank top. Her hair looked mussed and matted, and she was pulling at it as she cried. On the other side of me a man was rambling, talking about packaged cereal with a prize inside, and radio frequencies in his teeth. He said that he needed more teeth so he could hear the word better. We were together, and yet all of us were alone.
“Hello?” My voice cracked from nerves. “Who goes there?”
“Cannibals!” the man screamed. “All of them cannibals! Sifting through my guts...” He chittered and laughed. “You won’t find the prize inside me!”
I stepped closer to the stalks. “Where are you?”
The man breathed rapidly, and slowly it turned into a chuckle. “They won’t get the prize. It’s not at the bottom.”
“You won’t fucking get anything,” the woman wept. “You’re not where you are. I’m not standing on anything.”
“Can you hear me?”
I heard a raven above, and the woman screamed. “Go away! Leave me alone!”
“It’s just an angel,” I told her. “You don’t need to be afraid of it.”
“Fuck you!” the woman screamed, and a pair of hands came from the stalks, pushing me in the face and chest. I toppled over, hitting the hard ground and kicking up a dust cloud. I coughed and wheezed, looking up into the sky to see the raven gone. The voices were now distant and far away.
I stood and dusted myself off. My right knee was skinned and bleeding, and it hurt pretty badly. The raven landed near me, pecking at the ground where I had landed.
“Are you the same one as before?” I asked it.
“Sigrun,” it said loudly.
I knelt before it. “Are you my guardian?”
The raven hopped closer to me. “Sigrun!” it announced loudly again.
I reached out again, and the raven placed itself in my hand, nuzzling its head against the same hand it bit before. After a moment, it fluttered up and rested on my shoulder. In a way, I felt relieved to have a traveling companion with me.
The path began opening up. I thought for sure I would see the weeping woman and the muttering man, but the rest of the field was sealed off aside from my exit. I heard the muttering and chattering along the edge, and the cursing of the woman faded away. The ground was soft here, covered by moss and tufts of grass. I was at the edge of a clearing, with a fire burning at its center. The moon was full and fat above me, the stars closer than they had ever appeared before.
I sat down in front of the fire, taking in its warmth greedily. I took off my gloves, placing my bare palms near the flames. I breathed with relief as the ache of the cold began to leave me. I felt warm here, comfortable even. I was so worried about myself, I barely noticed anything else about my surroundings, let alone the fire. Once my hands and feet were warm, I realized that something was watching me from inside the fire.
The raven screamed and flew away.
There were no eyes, just a jagged, sharp head that rose from the flames. Its strange shape and size soon grew to fill the clearing. Large, long arms stretched out, pulling the shape out of the fire and trapping me between them. The body that emerged from the flames was crooked, with shoulders that arched upwards like sharp, long bones. One side was bulky, and the other was thin with loose skin and an arm that was merely bone with rope wrapped around it. The only way I could accept it was to think of it as a forgotten scarecrow - uneven, misshapen, battered by the sun, bathed in the rain, and left all alone in a barren wasteland that once knew life.
It was here for me.
“Our first meeting,” it rattled. It lowered closer to me and, within the skeletal head, I saw a fleshy red tongue roll around. It laughed at me. “What must you be thinking now?”
My body was already responding, growing aroused from its presence, its strong voice. “I’m not sure,” I answered it honestly. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“Because the beginning is beyond us, but the end is fast approaching.” It lowered even closer, pushing its body against me until I was on the ground.
“Now?” I asked, feeling feverish all over.
The skeletal hand pawed at the front of my clothes. “I have been waiting for you. Do you know how long that is?” Drool dripped from its jowls and splashed on my face. “There is only one of you, will only ever be one of you!”
“I understand. It’s just...” My voice caught in my throat as my body’s responses became too strong. “What are you doing to me?”
“I am existing for you. My love, my mate.” It lowered itself, pressing bone to my ear. “My true mate.”
“Oh.” The word was one of understanding. “That’s it, then.” I shivered in the cold, but all I wanted was the god in the field. I’d taken off my pants, and my loins steamed in the cold air. I felt embarrassed by how badly I was craving its touch. “It’s cold.”
It looked down my body, seeing my legs splayed open, my slit glistening like the stars above us. I was afraid of myself more than I was of this creature. Its shape and guise were frightening, but I wanted it to touch me, to love me deep within.
Its long fingers prodded at my folds until the knobby digits finally slipped inside me. The mouth opened and the tongue plopped out, squirming against my mouth until I let it in. The tongue pushed deep, going towards my throat and slipping down. I gagged and coughed, thrusting my hips so its fingers went deeper.
“Your body must be ready. As my true mate, only you can accept my seed and let it grow. I have watched too many die and fade away. Now that I have you, I will no longer see death. This body is perfect, sculpted by the divine. Your womb is heaven for me.” It spread me open with its fingers and I choked on its tongue. I thrust my hips, wanting more from it. “Yes, I know. Only I can give you pleasure now.” It took its tongue back into its mouth. I coughed and wheezed, but a smile spread on my lips.
Its bony fingers pulled from inside me, and I felt frustrated. I looked up at it, begging silently for it to touch me again. Then I noticed that something else was growing from its mouth. It was fleshy and pink, pushing up from the throat. The jaws stretched open, and it thrust out from within. Like a slimy sock, it slapped against my body. It started to get thicker, harder. The end of it looked like the bud of a lily beginning to open.
“My God,” I purred. “I’m ready.”
It flipped me over, holding me with the bigger hand around my waist. It lifted me off the ground, my limbs dangling until the other hand grabbed my legs. The thing that came from its mouth prodded at my rear. The tip opened up and adhered to me, wrapping around my hips and groin and from within I felt a mass of prodding fingers. They wiggled and tickled, gently pushing deep inside me. “What’s happening?” I panted, drool glistening on my lips. “What are you doing to me? It feels so good.”
It growled deeply and its hand squeezed tighter around me. “Preparing your womb. Heaven does not happen all at once.”
I whimpered pitifully, squeezing tight around the tendrils writing inside me. They grew thicker and harder, stretching my tight insides. They thrust deep until every inch of me was filled. It was strange, but I could not imagine a better pleasure. I had grown limp and useless, and the only thing I wanted was it. “I can’t take more.”
“You will. You must. My seed will be hard to plant.”
I could barely keep my eyes open. “It feels so good!”
“I know it does,” it growled. “I know what will delight you.”
I was pushed against the ground with my legs splayed up in the air as the strange mouth sucked at me. Something wet splashed against the ground. Inside me, I felt something harder push inside me. I cried out and it pulled out, I writhed and it moved harder. I screamed at the top of my lungs, unable to hold back any longer. The mouth released me, and the creature took me into its palm.
I stared up at the sky, looking at the moon as it rippled before my eyes. The strong hand landed me back upon the ground, and the creature crawled on top of me. Its mouth was wide open as the strange tendril retreated back inside. I couldn’t feel anything below my waist. I couldn’t even feel the cold around me.
It stroked my face. “Rest now. You will not know it soon.”
I slipped away, fading deeply into myself. When I woke again, I found myself in that derelict little house. I sat up from the bed, looking out the window to see the field stretching on and on forever. The raven fluttered into the room, perching upon the bed frame again.
I lay back down, feeling the ache between my legs and knowing it was not a dream. It had been there, rocking inside and preparing me for the day I would take the god’s final pleasure. It was right - the beginning was long behind us, but the end was stretched out eternal before us.
I got more water from the faucet, and when I left the house, I tried to gain some sense of where I was. Before I had heard others in the field with me. If they were real or just a trick of the imagination, I don’t know. It was possible to believe that there were many others out there in the field, dozens upon hundreds, all kept by the god of the field.
I picked up the old rocking chair and sat there, knowing it was not time for me to go yet. I don’t even think I was supposed to leave the house today. Somehow I knew I was supposed to stay there. It wanted me there.
The raven sat with me, keeping me company. I was able to coax it onto my hand and it became affectionate with me, wanting to be petted and held closer.
Some time later, I heard voices in the stalks, a rumbling of disjointed, fast words. Then I saw the stalks sway and bend as someone came through them. The raven screamed, shooting off into the corn. I rose, standing on the steps as a man came out, shouting as the raven chased him. He looked ragged, his clothes filthy and ripped, his skin red, and his eyes wrapped in torn fabric.
“Get away from me! Fly away!” the man screamed at the raven. “Don’t fuck with me, bitch!” The man stopped just before the porch and looked up. His jaw opened wide to reveal misshapen teeth. “I see a shape,” he pointed towards me. “Who are you?”
I stepped down off the porch. “It doesn’t matter, does it?” I put my arms around him and led him up the stairs. “Let’s get you something to drink.” He fought me, pushing me back and stumbling away as I tried to help him. But when he felt the stalks again, he rushed back into my grasp. He spoke under his breath, fast and garbled. His head jerked, and blood began to drip from his nose. His arms trembled, but his body still felt strong. “I guess it doesn’t matter,” he finally said to me. “Nothing does.”
I got him inside and had him drink from my palms. “How long have you been here?” he asked between gulps.
“I’m not sure. I don’t think time here exists the way we knew it out there.” I took a chair from the kitchen table and sat down. “It feels like I’ve been here only hours, but I know that can’t be true. It sometimes seems like weeks have gone by.”
“Weeks,” the man scoffed. “Weeks ago was when the ravens got my eyes. Weeks ago was when I still cared.” He turned from the sink, water pouring from his mouth and down the front of his chest. The way his clothes stuck to him, I saw scars and scabs on his chest. They looked like words, but I couldn’t read them.
“Who are you?” I asked. “Maybe I know who you are.”
His smile was crooked, and the misshapen teeth in his mouth truly looked like they didn’t belong there. “If you knew me, you wouldn’t be here.”
The raven flew back into the house and landed on my shoulder. “Those fucking pests! Nearly blinded me.” The man lunged out to scare the raven away, but my raven didn’t even flinch.
“Please, stop,” I coaxed the man. “You’re the only person I’ve met since I came here. I want to understand this place.”
He sniffed. “Have you met the god yet?”
My body ached again, craving my god’s touch. “I have.”
“Then you’re one of the lucky ones,” he chuckled. “The god keeps some, eats some, and then the god will do whatever he pleases with the rest.”
“Are you lucky, then?” I asked.
“The god does whatever it pleases with me,” the man snarled. He shuffled around the table, feeling out the space before he touched the wall and placed himself in the corner.
My raven fluttered and croaked. “But who are you? What was your name? What did you do back in town?”
“Dentist,” was all he said.
I furrowed my brow. “Dr. Hamlin?”
He threw his head back, laughing and screaming before slamming his head hard back into the corner.
“Dr. Hamlin, I remember you. You fixed a cavity for me when I was ten. You said I should get braces, and my mom said you could shove her money up your ass.”
He snickered, pulling himself out of the corner to throw his head back. “Of all the things I had forgotten, that wasn’t one of them.” He lumbered towards the table and slammed his palms down on the top. “I fucking hated your mother.”
I nodded. “She was an acquired taste.”
Dr. Hamlin jabbed his finger towards my face, but my raven pecked him. He remained still, letting the raven keep pecking harder and harder on his finger until dark blood splashed on my shoulder.
His voice pitched higher as he started to laugh. “What did the god do to you, little Sigrun? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“We made love.” I answered him honestly. There was no reason for me to hide what the god and I had done. After all, I was the true mate.
“Is that what you think?” Dr. Hamlin pulls his bloodied finger away. “Made love.” He smears his blood over the fabric wrapped around his head. “The true mate, are we?” The blood seeped through the thin fabric, dripping down along the fibers until it looked like veins full of life.
I nodded. “That’s what it told me. The god said my womb was heaven.”
“Then my ass must be hell!” Dr. Hamlin cackled before turning himself back into the corner. “Cannibals,” he hissed. “They want my prize.”
“Dr. Hamlin?” I asked softly.
My raven fluttered and screamed.
“What do you want, Sigrun?” he snarled. His hands clawed up the walls. “Or do you wish to be called True Mate?”
I stood up and approached him. “I want to know what happens here. What happened to you and the others.” I laid my hands on his shoulders. “Please, come rest. I know you must be tired, and you’re here for a reason.”
Dr. Hamlin whipped around, striking me across the face. I stumbled backwards and he lunged at me again. “It came to me first!” he roared. “The god gave me its seed! They want it! It’s still with me!”
I jumped back as my raven flew at him, pecking at his head and stabbing towards his eyes again.
“You can’t hurt me!” Dr. Hamlin cackled. “God already chose me! I am here! I’m alive!” He swatted at my raven, which flew away. Then he stumbled back towards me, bloody, laughing, and unstoppable.
“Dr. Hamlin, please!” I cried out.
“Please?” he roared. “Please!” He swung and nearly hit me again. “You think you’re so special because you made love?” He grabbed my hair and pulled me down, slamming me onto the table.
“Get away from me!” I shouted as he pinned my arms.
He chuckled, leaning down on top of me. “You haven’t even taken God’s seed yet, and you call yourself the true mate! God already laid their spawn inside me!”
“Impossible!” I shouted.
Dr. Hamlin ripped open his clothes, revealing his distended belly. The skin was tight, and I could see a strange shape forming inside.
“It’s dead!” I cried. “There is no light!”
“Liar!” Dr. Hamlin spit in my face. “God chose me! I have the prize! It’s mine! Mine! Mine!”
I kicked his stomach as hard as I possibly could, and he reared back. He began throwing up almost instantly, spewing wet, bile-covered grass on me and the floor. I ran from him, leaving the house and thrusting myself back into the field. I weaved through the corn, coming out onto a path.
I panted for breath, smelling his vomit on me. I shucked my outer layer of clothing, tossing it aside as I walked along the path. Whatever was inside Dr. Hamlin was dead and had been dead to begin with. He was not the true mate. He could not give the god in the field the child it craved. I was the True Mate, the one and only. I was to be the mother.
