The Voice in the Cornfield - Reddit Horror Stories

The Voice in the Cornfield - Reddit Horror Stories

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
I don't know if any one will believe me, but
this happened last summer when I went to stay with
my cousin in Nebraska. My name's Mark. I'm twenty one
and at the time I had just finished my second
year of college. My cousin, Josh, invited me to his
family's farm for a couple of weeks to clear my head,

(00:20):
and I thought it'd be a nice break from city life.
I couldn't have been more wrong. The farm is in
the middle of nowhere, just cornfield stretching in every direction.
At night, it gets dark, no street lights, no cars passing,
just black sky and the sound of wind moving through

(00:41):
the stalks. The first few nights it was peaceful. Then
it got unsettling. One night, around eleven p m. Josh
and I were sitting on the porch when we both
heard it a voice. It was faint but clear, coming
from the field across the dirt road. Someone was calling help.

(01:02):
Josh grabbed a flashlight and said it was probably a neighbor,
or maybe a drunk who'd wandered too far. But when
we walked to the edge of the field and shined
the light in, there was nothing, just rose and rows.
Of corn swaying in the wind. The voice didn't stop, though,
it kept calling soft, strained, always the same word help.

(01:27):
Josh wanted to go in and check. I didn't. Something
about the way it sounded made my skin crawl. It
wasn't panicked, wasn't desperate. It was flat, like someone pretending
to sound distressed. Still, Josh pushed into the stalks, so
I followed with the flashlight. We walked maybe fifty feet in.

(01:48):
The voice seemed farther away, now deeper in the field.
We followed it for what felt like an hour, but
no matter how far we went, the voice never got closer.
It just moved, always a little ahead. Finally Josh stopped
and said we should turn back. That's when we realized
we couldn't hear the road anymore, just the wind, just

(02:12):
the calm, and then nothing. The voice had stopped. We
found our way back eventually, but both of us were shaken.
Josh laughed it off, but I could tell he was bothered.
We didn't talk about it again until three nights later,
when it happened again. This time, I woke up to it,

(02:33):
a low, distant help drifting through the open window. Josh
was asleep so I grabbed the flashlight and went to
the porch. The sound was there again, same tone, same direction.
But what froze me wasn't the voice. It was the
fact that it was repeating, perfectly spaced every ten seconds,

(02:56):
hell silence, hell silence, like a recording. I didn't go
into the field that night. I stayed on the porch,
light in hand until it stopped. Around three a m.
The next morning, I asked Josh about it. He said
his dad used to warn him as a kid never
to follow voices into the fields at night, said the

(03:18):
corn could play tricks on you. When I pressed him,
he just shook his head and told me to drop it.
On my last night at the farm, I couldn't sleep.
Around two a m. The voice came again, this time closer,
not across the road, not deep in the field, right
outside the window. Help. I sat up in bed, heart racing.

(03:43):
The flashlight was already in my hand. Slowly I pulled
back the curtain. The beam of light hit the corn
just a few feet from the house. The stalks were still,
no wind, no movement, but between them, just for a second,
I swear I saw something tall and thin slip back
out of view. And then the voice changed. It wasn't

(04:07):
calling help any more. It said my name, soft, measured,
like it had been waiting for me. I didn't sleep
the rest of the night. At sunrise, I packed my things,
told Josh something came up and left. He tried to
laugh it off, but I could see in his eyes
he knew. Maybe he's heard it too many times, maybe

(04:29):
he's learned to ignore it. I can't. Back in the city,
I thought i'd forget. But last week, walking home late,
I passed a vacant lot, overgrown with weeds, and from
the darkness behind the tall grass, I heard it again, help,
the same voice, and this time I didn't wait to

(04:50):
hear what it said next