Chapter Text
Note: Lore.fm or any other third-party apps or websites DO NOT have my permission to use my work in any way.
There are three things the people of the Valley know about the abandoned farm to the west:
They know it has always been and always will be there; lying deep in the thick northern woods of the Cindersap Forest where the trees grow so tall, the sun’s light is barely able to touch the dirt.
They know it is owned by a wealthy family with a name so old, they can track their lineage to a time before the Valley itself was formed.
And they know that if you set foot upon the farm,
someday,
somehow,
inevitably,
you will die.
Every inch of that place, from the highest branches of the tallest trees to the deepest roots sprawling beneath the earth, is cursed.
It hadn’t always been that way. There had been a man who arrived in the Valley nearly thirty years ago with an itching green thumb and contagious optimism, ready to take on his family’s farm. His children off at college and late-wife resting peacefully in the family crypt, he took on the land with heavy determination. Unlike those before him, he didn’t shy away from the town, visiting often with fresh crops and a wide smile. Mayor Lewis claims they had been good friends, that this man was the one to push him to run for Mayor and that he had attended the wedding of the man’s daughter on that very farm years later.
While his daughter didn’t stay long, the man kept up his farm, happily tending to his crops and animals well into his twilight years. Those who’ve lived in the Valley longer fondly recall the polite old man with his gifts of freshly baked goods and homemade honey, always given with that wide, friendly smile.
The same wide smile they would use to identify his body when it floated down river and caught on the southeast bridge.
Gunther had been the one to find him. He’s spoken of it only once and claims that the body had been so blue and bloated, he wasn’t sure what he was looking at until he stepped closer and saw the bright, friendly smile stretched across the corpse’s face. The body was pulled from the river, the older folks doing their best to keep the kids away as Gunther gave his statement to the authorities.
The family took the body, burying it per their traditions deep in their crypt, but the townsfolk still held a funeral in the Valley. A somber affair which ended in the saloon with the adults gathered around sharing happy stories of the old farmer over free rounds of beer.
It wasn’t until after the saloon had closed that Mayor Lewis arrived on Gunther’s doorstep and the two agreed it was best not to mention the odd symbols painted on the body’s skin or how the corpse's hollow gaze seemed to follow them as it was fished out of the water.
With that, Mayor Lewis officially blocked off the path to the farm, setting up roadblocks and allowing the foliage to overtake the road.
The rumors don’t start until a few years later when a young Sam tells his friends that his baby brother saw a weird old man wandering around the forest. The others brush it off as nothing more than an overactive imagination, but the topic stays on the old farmer and the decision is quickly made to investigate the empty farm. They never make it to the Farm, getting so turned around in the thick blanket of trees, they end up right back where they started. A frustrated Abigail suggests looking through town records to find a map to the Farm and desperate to solve this new mystery, the others agree.
They don’t find a single map in the records. Instead, they read pages and pages of gruesome deaths. There are books upon books upon books recording a thorough history of bodies: found washed up in rivers, hanging in trees, attacked by animals, ravaged by disease, dismembered in the mines.
All of them maimed.
All of them brutalized.
All of them painted with strange, unidentifiable symbols.
-
The rumors go absolutely wild.
Penny hears from Maru who hears from Sebastian who hears from Abigail that the land used to be used for ancient human sacrifice and that those who were so viciously murdered have returned for revenge.
Gus overhears Emily telling Leah that the Farm actually used to be an old burial ground and the spirits are upset their resting place has been built upon.
Pam, very loudly and very drunkenly, offers up the idea of a government testing site because “why else would Lewis always try to be so buddy-buddy with the Governor?".
Clint suggests the possibility of alien experimentation, but everyone immediately dismisses the idea in favor of a cult of serial killers living deep in the forest.
The rumors die down eventually, but the idea is settled among the people of the Valley: to set foot on the farm is to sign your own death warrant.
-
On the final week of Winter, almost seven years later, Elliott leaves his cabin, breathes in the fresh ocean air, and gazes out over the water. Something seems off and it takes him several minutes to realize that he’s never once seen the ocean so still. Even Willy makes his way out onto the pier to lightly prod the water with his fishing rod, but the water never moves. It dawns on the two that not only is the water still, there’s no wind. The trees, the grass, and the shrubs all stand so unsettlingly stagnant that Elliott has to return to his cabin and write just to have the scribbling of his pen drown out the silence.
The power goes out the next day. It lasts for nearly an hour before it returns, and the townsfolk are thankful until it goes out again minutes later. This continues the entire day, the people of the Valley working around their spotty electricity as it flickers on and off. Alex heads outside to go for a run, deciding that the endless static coming from his television is going to drive him crazy.
Maru stares through her telescope that night, trying to identify familiar constellations. She stares and stares for two hours unable to recognize any star formations. Frustrated, she goes through her notes, knowing that she's missed something. She’s sure she has the correct time and telescope placement and looks back through the lens only to find that the stars seem to have rearranged themselves. She steps back, glancing up at the sky, before looking through the lens once more, and watching as every single star shifts and moves across the night sky. She’s clearly tired, she reasons as she returns to her room. She just needs to sleep.
The power isn’t out the next day but for some unknown reason, the Saloon is the only building in town that can get their heater working. The townsfolk gather around the bar, passing around warm mugs of Gus’s fresh apple cider when Jas runs in with a fresh bundle of flowers in hand. She settles herself by the lit fireplace, the flowers resting on the ground in front of her as she begins tying the stems together. Marnie nudges Shane, gesturing to his goddaughter working with the entirety of her six-year-old focus. They watch her fondly, but the petal’s vibrant colors soon catch Shane's eye and his fondness turns to curiosity. Where did Jas find fully bloomed poppies?
The crows gather in the early hours of the next morning. There are dozens of them, spreading across the plaza, covering the rooftops of nearby buildings, and sitting calmly within the trees. They make no noise, no heinous screeching or fluttering of wings. They don’t touch the pieces of bread Evelyn throws them. They don’t even flinch when Mayor Lewis attempts to shoo them with a garden rake. They simply watch, black gazes unblinking and intent, searching for something long after the sun has set.
The townsfolk don’t know if the crows are still there when the storm hits. It’s the worst storm in Valley history, wind whipping so violently the trees bend under its force. The snow falls in thick blankets, white coating every inch of the Valley as far as the eye can see. The town is buried hours before the sun has a chance to set. They won’t be able to shovel this, Lewis thinks, watching as the snow piles high above his living room window.
Which is why he is completely and utterly dumbfounded when he wakes on the last day of Winter and steps out onto his porch to the sun warming his face and a soft layer of snow stretched out before him, barely an inch deep. He heads towards the plaza, perplexed at how calm the town seems.
“Mayor Lewis!”
Perhaps he spoke too soon.
“Mayor Lewis! Mayor Lewis!” Jas and Vincent rush up to him in a frantic state, an out-of-breath Penny following close behind.
“My brother was-”
“The broken bus-”
“Definitely saw-”
“In the trees-”
There’s nothing he can say to slow them down and their sentences become jumbled together, so hurried and panicked he can only catch a few words. He patiently waits, allowing the children to get out whatever tale they’re trying to tell and for Penny to catch her breath. She calms them down with a few expert words before looking at the Mayor.
“I’m sorry about that. It’s just-” she glances back over her shoulder and it’s then that Lewis notices the crowd that’s gathered near the edge of town, “-the kids saw someone near the bus stop, but the bus isn’t running, and Dr. Harvey said he didn’t see anyone walk through town this morning.” Penny looks at him nervously and Lewis can feel an anxious knot build in his stomach.
“I think they came from the farm.”
Lewis thanks her, heading straight towards the crowd where he’s bombarded with questions. Who is this person? Are they a tourist? How did they get here in such dangerous weather? Did they come from the farm?
“Everyone calm down,” Lewis speaks evenly, “it’s probably just a tourist who got trapped in the storm.”
Are they alright?
What if they’re hurt?
Who would travel in this weather?
“I’ll take a few people to go check it out,” Lewis says, “I’m sure the doctor would like to come in case they’re injured?” Harvey gives a quick nod, leaving to grab his medical bag from the Clinic. “In the meantime, let’s all just continue about our day, shall we? I’m sure there’s plenty to do that doesn’t involve crowding some poor traveler.” There are a few lingering whispers, but the crowd disperses easily enough, leaving Lewis, Gus, and Harvey as he rejoins them, medical bag in hand. The three walk the snowy path towards the bus stop in a tense silence.
“I-It’s probably nothing,” Harvey speaks up, “the kids were probably playing near the woods and saw a wild animal.” He sounds about as sure as Lewis feels, but they reach the broken-down bus without seeing a single thing. That must be a good sign, right?
“I don’t see anyone,” Lewis says, mostly to himself, as he looks around the barren bus stop. The snow sparkles in the sunlight, illuminating the area in a peaceful golden-white glow. He spots a wild hare or two bouncing between bushes, but no tourist. “You’re probably right,” he sighs towards Harvey, “just a wild animal.”
“You fellas know any wild animals that stand on two legs?” Gus asks and the two men abruptly turn to him. They follow his stern gaze further down the path towards the blocked road to the farm and Lewis feels the cold begin to seep into his bones.
Because the path isn’t blocked.
It’s completely cleared out, decade’s worth of foliage gone and the cement roadblocks lying in piles of dust on the side of the road.
And standing in the center of the road, staring down towards the farm, is a figure with their hands on their hips and a large black crow perched on their shoulder.
Lewis goes to take a cautious step towards them but doesn’t get the chance as the figure suddenly turns, looking over their shoulder. Their gaze meets his and he swears that, for a quick moment, there’s a bright flash in their eyes before they blink it away. They shrug their shoulder causing the crow to fly off without so much as a single caw and fully turn towards him, Gus, and Harvey. They give a wide, friendly, familiar smile and the chill that runs up Lewis’s spine is sudden and violent.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” they speak, voice echoing along the quiet road, “I’m the new Farmer.”