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This is only a story. If you don't choose to believe it, then next time you are down by the cane and hear a cry, you could do the moral thing and try to save whatever you think it is. But if you have your suspicions, I know for sure the old man would beg of you to run... run fast
 
This is only a story. If you don't choose to believe it, then next time you are down by the cane and hear a cry, you could do the moral thing and try to save whatever you think it is. But if you have your suspicions, I know for sure the old man would beg of you to run... run fast
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[[Category:Beings]]

Revision as of 10:50, 15 August 2012

HsTI6.jpg

It is said that some time ago, far on the outskirts of the village, a farmer 'vanished' overnight with all his belongings, leaving behind a large abandoned cane field. Somewhere in the forgotten fields was the small cottage he once lived in, now well engulfed by the overgrown cane. Police ruled the disappearance as a runaway case; that of his own accord, since most his personal belongings were taken with him and there were no signs of a struggle. But perhaps this was easier for the police, rather than investigate further into it. Perhaps for good reason they stayed away...

In these parts, exists an old stretch of dirt road, one that you can see off into the distance as far as your eyes will let you, until it vanishes. The road, a long searing cut through the cane, split the crop in two, which grew right up to the roads edges, but never over. Once used by the farmer, the road was now long abandoned due to its unkempt condition and now was mainly occupied by wanderers, or those that had lost their way.

One evening there drove an old man in his '89 corolla, I'm told it was around dusk. He had been hoping to make it home by nightfall but had taken a wrong turn sometime back. The old man was slowly driving along the pot holed track with caution. Rows of swaying cane rustled in the wind and you could still vaguely see down the rows of cane, as they had once been planted with spacing between them, until it became too dense and dark to see any further. The old man suddenly pressed hard on his breaks, hearing the gravel crunch under his tyres. He could've sworn he saw what resembled a baby down by the entrance to one of the rows of cane.

"Couldn’t be!" as he peered out his car window to look behind at whatever it was he had seen. But he could hear crying. To which, he exited his vehicle and hurried over to where it was coming from. Down by the entrance to the row of cane, the long overgrown crop shadowed what appeared to be an infant in a potato sack, wriggling around. The noise led him closer, still unable to make out exactly what he saw, although the strange noise, no longer distinguishable as a cry, but more of a call... was growing louder. At first he had been scared purely for the safety of the infant abandoned out here, but now as it grew darker he was infectiously frightened by this whole situation. It didn't make sense. He would quickly scoop up the baby and report straight back to the police station, he reassured himself. As he inched closer...

Suddenly, a black shadow flashed across the row of cane he stood adjacent to as the cane moved violently and rustled more frantically. He grew concerned...

"Wild animals" he muttered unconvincingly as a fear crept over him like a swarm of insects up his skin. Fuelled by a state of panic, he swept down to grab the child from the sack... to his horror... as all that his efforts revealed was a severed head with a tape recorder next to it, as hundreds of cockroaches dropped off the open neck of the once living child they were feeding upon. The child's lifeless blackened eyes stared into his as the tape recorder let out a high pitch haunting scream. The man dropped the head and stumbled backwards to the ground, as he froze in terror...

Staring down into the cane he could make out the formidable sound of these 'things' scurrying towards him. Darkness had fallen now, but the moonlight above revealed something that made his stomach sink. There were these sets of human-like feet visible above the cane coming towards him at such a speed - faster than a human could move, with overgrown nails curling down, like pincers. Down at ground level, becoming more visible as they emerged the dense overgrowth and approached the clearing, he could make out these long faces that focused on him menacingly where he lay, backed by necks craned forwards at horrific angles so they could look forwards. Its as if they were... upside down. These once human creatures had evolved differently. Adapted to the cane fields.

This story ends here. No one really knows what happened to the man in those last few moments. The police that investigated kept it hushed and ruled it as a runaway case, that of his own accord, as all his possessions were gone.

It is said by the few locals who overheard talk, that what they did find however was unsettling. There was a track of 'prints' they recovered that led off into the cane fields. Although police were baffled. The prints left were that of 'something' that would have moved purely on its elbows.

This is only a story. If you don't choose to believe it, then next time you are down by the cane and hear a cry, you could do the moral thing and try to save whatever you think it is. But if you have your suspicions, I know for sure the old man would beg of you to run... run fast