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Armitage Hux glanced over his shoulder in the fading sun of the country road, he’d expected it to be deserted, but he couldn’t be too sure. If anyone saw him here he’d never live it down. Being strange in a small town was bad enough, chasing down a nightmare was something else entirely. He was sure he’d be even more shunned if anyone saw him.
As soon as he could, he ducked off the road and began following the edge of a huge field of corn. This one was different than the others that lined the roads for miles around. This one wasn’t planted in rows, rather every side was solid and apparently no matter where you tried to push in, you’d find it impassable. He’d heard people talk about there being a gap that appeared and opened into the field on Halloween at dark, but he’d never believed them. That was, of course, before the dreams.
Since the start of October he’d had the same dream every night. He’d be walking down a moonlit corridor of dry corn, surrounded by unintelligible whispers. At the end of the corridor he’d find a scarecrow hung on a cross. Over the month of the same dream night after night, the scarecrow began to move and speak. For a long time the sounds it was making seemed like nothing more than groaning coming from deep within the slashed sack mask it wore, but slowly he began to understand the words.
The figure that was hung there was asking him to let it down. Hux would ask why, and the figure would laugh. Until finally, last night, he received an answer.
“Come to the corn and let me down tomorrow night,” it spoke in a voice not dissimilar to the whispers in the corn. “And you’ll become what you’ve always wished.”
He’d woken up ill rested and feverish. He’d made his decision in the pale dawn light, he’d go to the field and he’d pull the scarecrow down. All of the local legends spoke of those who entered the field on Halloween disappearing and never being heard from again. There was nothing left for Hux in this town but the rotting mansion his father had left him and the sneers of the small minded imbeciles in town. His father had drunk away his college fund, there was no other way for him to escape this wretched place other than a magical corn field that might murder him.
As the light faded finally from the sky, a large dark gap appeared before him. Hux had walked past this area before, when he was examining this monstrosity while he was still very young. There had never been a space here before, but as he approached he could see a narrow corridor had appeared. The dirt was clear of stumps, as if someone had ripped up a path by its roots. The moonlight bounced off of the few dried husks that littered the path. Hux took a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and stepped in.
Suddenly all the sounds of wildlife that accompanied life in the country disappeared. Everything was silent except for the wind whispering through the stalks. Hux suppressed a shudder and turned around to see if he could get back out. The gap was now covered with a thick wall of corn. Much as the field appeared during the rest of the year, it was impassable.
No way to go but forward. Hux heard a whisper. He whipped around, looking for the source of the voice.
“Who’s there!?” he shouted, trying to keep the fear from his voice. No answer came, but a shuddering through the corn that had the same rhythmic quality of a deep laugh. Hux took a deep breath and began moving forward.
To his surprise, there was only one way through the field, a narrow corridor turning here and there. He had expected a maze, but it appeared there would be no seeking a way through. There was only one path to follow.
He walked on and on, much longer than he would expect it to take to get into the center of the field. Now and then he’d hear a whisper through the corn, vague threats about his fate if he didn’t turn back. More and more those whispers sounded more and more like his father telling him he was worthless or the bullies in school hurling insults about his slender frame. He gradually stopped paying them any mind, and just as soon as they began to fade into the background Hux found himself stepping into a large open space. He glanced up, the moon exactly at the center of the sky above him. Midnight.
“Armitage Hux,” a voice growled from the center of the clearing. How he had missed the scarecrow strung up on a cross he’d never understand, but at a glance he wanted to scream.
Scarecrows were generally creepy, there was always something unsettling about the bloated look of stuffed clothing. It always reminded Hux of a drowned corpse. This one was no different, it looked like a bloated body trussed up, its face covered in a sackcloth mask with nothing but a slash for a mouth and two shining black buttons for eyes.
“Armitage Hux,” the figure rumbled again, shifting around in its bonds. The sack cloth itself wasn’t moving, but there was a writhing underneath as the thing spoke to him. “You came.”
Hux stared at the figure, agape. It wasn’t a question, simply a statement. The thing laughed.
“Did you come here to stare at me?” the scarecrow growled out while tilting its head, humor in its ragged voice. “Or do you intend to let me down?”
“What will you give me if I let you down?” Hux found his voice. Shaky as it may be, he wanted the terms that this nightmare promised.
“I will make you the most powerful man in history,” it whispered. Hux suddenly felt as if he was going to faint. A spike of discomfort wormed its way into his skull. “I’ve seen your dreams Hux, across time and space. The nights you toss and turn, dreaming of having your enemies fallen before you. Treading over them in fields of blood and broken bone,” the monster continued, the twisting in Hux’s mind getting stronger. “Your ambition is wasted here, in this place. Let me down and I will take you to a place where you are wanted and you will rule,”
Hux felt the twisting thing withdraw and he fell to his knees breathing hard. The invasion had made his eyes water and kicked off a migraine. He was breathing hard, retching with the pain.
“What right do you have to be in my mind, you monster?” he grit out, spitting into the dirt.
“I am the giver of gifts and your greatest love. If you come with me I will give you the stars, even as you destroy them in your wake. Come with me Armitage Hux, and be everything you were meant to be.”
Hux pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his pants. He stood, staring at the figure for a moment. He glanced around again, seeing that a small gap out to a country road had opened up to one side. He was being presented a choice. A poisoned promise from a monster in a sackcloth mask, or a poisoned existence among the riffraff of this worthless town. He stepped toward the figure.
With another whispering sound he saw the gap at the side of the clearing close and heard a cacophony of voices screaming out of the corn. The voice of his father, the bullies, every insult he’d ever had hurled at him screamed through the wind as he approached the figure. He saw a long knife hanging by the figure’s foot and didn’t hesitate to grab it. Damn this town, anything was better than this.
As he pushed himself up on the balls of his feet to cut the twine holding the being up he was hit with the smell of burning hair, ash, and blood. Another screaming whipped through the corn, this was the wail of agony from voices he’d never heard in languages he didn’t recognize. He grit his teeth and held his breath against the smell. The figure was shaking with laughter and as he touched the blade to the rope it snapped, and the figure fell into his arms. The sky went red as he grabbed at the sackcloth to reveal the face of the creature he’d freed. The voices wailed again as he looked into the creature’s glowing yellow eyes.
Starkiller!
General Hux sat up with a start, breathing hard. It had been the dream he had been having since he was a boy. Whenever he tried to grasp what he’d seen it ran away from him, like sand through a sieve. A hand settled on his shoulder, comforting him.
“Bad dream?” Kylo asked, bleary from sleep.
“Yeah,” He said, glancing at a scar on his leg that he’d never really noticed before. Something about farming equipment lanced through his mind, but disappeared as quickly as it had surfaced. “It’s nothing.” Hux finished, laying back down to try to sleep again. Kylo laid down beside him and wrapped his arms around Hux.
“You’ll need your strength tomorrow for your coronation,” Kylo whispered into Hux’s hair.
Sleep came to Hux with the sound of whispers through a cornfield and a young man promising not to fail his father again if he’d just let him down.