Terror Fields of Corn

I have been waiting to hit up the haunted corn maze since I discovered its existence in early September - via Craigslist as a job posting with a caveat that "parties must not mind spending long hours in the dark alone in a field."

I passed on applying.

Finally our time had come! Friday we drove 30 minutes to New Berlin to Lindner's Farm. After waiting 50 minutes for Hauntfest, I informed Jon we had to get there bright and early. This equalled exactly 15 minutes after the maze opened and behind a father and his 3 year old son (seriously?) and a group of middle school girls. Because what else is there to do after dusk when you're 13 on a Friday night? . . . Or two almost-30 year olds . . .

Right off the bat we walk through a pitch black tunnel into a room with a corpse. We are told: don't touch the corn, don't eat the corn, don't pick the corn, don't play with the corn, just don't go near the corn. Got it?

No need to know what incident necessitated that speech.

We are unleashed into the corn field. Behind us are the father and son. Walking the short distance to the start of the maze I am attacked by a scare professional hiding amid the stalks. I scream like a little child. This is not a good sign; the individual was basically invisible. We get to the maze and we are promptly separated! I am forced to go left as Jon goes right. No way, Jose! And guess who gets the scare? Me again. At this point I am starting to regret my eagerness in visiting such a torture site. The only plus is that the sun has barely set, allowing us to see across the entire field. Had this been under a night sky, I would have shed some baby tears, turned around and marched right back into the warm and lockable car. Yes, that is a word.

We meet up after my scare and quickly lose the father and son as the poor kid starts crying. If I'm screaming, I think it's safe to say this is no place for a small child. For the remainder of the maze, Jon and I try to guess where the next scare will come from. We anticipated maybe 10%. The hands-down best part was a shed, an outhouse, if you will, with absolutely no lighting. We enter the shed by the pathetic glow of our orange lightstick, walking through a maze of short walls - each leading to another wall, a dead end, and so on. Five steps in we are greeted by a scream and a flashlight-bearing torture dealer. Jon shrieks like a baby girl and proceeds to let loose many words I will not mention in polite society such as this blog. Then we are FOLLOWED (unbeknownst to us) as we circle the walls looking for a door, repeatedly frightened by the same monster. Jon screams to the high heavens each time; profanities abound. Imagine being trailed in the dark by someone who knows exactly where you are going while you blindly fumble in circles. Jon carried me as a backpack at this point.

Finally the guy points the way out and we emerge into the middle of the corn field, which suddenly seems much less scary after the shed. It honestly was so pretty under the early moonlight that I found myself completely ignoring the possibility of a lurking person and just taking in the farm views. Until said person jumped in front of my face, prompting a loud shout, and forcing me to bury my face in my hands and come back to reality. Jon repeatedly noted how terrifying it would be if someone not hired by the farm was lurking in the fields trying to hurt people because 'we would never know the difference!' Wow, I really needed that thought in my head.

All in all, Jon liked it much better than the 'fest but lamented that we did not go through while it was truly nighttime. I rejoiced in this fact.

Then we treated ourselves to the Akimbo.

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