Child of Fields: Stephen King Chariot

A Story by Abishai100

Fanfiction of the iconic gem/film/story of inventions in courage/spirit in a field of gripping darkness involving young minds turned to simple jagged edge shielding.

A bright/dark Children of the Corn (Stephen King) adaptation. Happy '25, all (thanks so much for reading),

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So, I decided to take my city school kids to a special haunted field of harvest in the American Homeland, not realizing that we were riding into a dark moon Hell of specter-infested Earth-ground of ravenous mind warping, transforming my pupils into demons of message counter-intuitive to my modern time of social media and Selfie-culture happiness (Facebook-like).

STUDENT: Look at what I drew...the field monster told me to make this, sir.

ME: I'm your educator; I insist this is too eerie and dark, not Facebook-like!

STUDENT: Some of us kids found weapons in the fields, buried for us, sir.

ME: What are your classmates doing now...please tell me ASAP, please.

STUDENT: We're gonna become field haunting bad killers of the moon light.

ME: Jesus Christ...this is a nightmare...alright (Selfie-like).

There I was thinking more happy-thoughts having moved my city school youngsters by bus I drove to that harvest field for simple educational bright campfire-like storytelling for memories and harvest-season 'consciousness' in the Homeland now. However, there was some demonic presence in those fields of harvest during that horrifying field trip; and it was 'converting' my youngsters suddenly (somehow).

SHELBYE: Well, looks clear, and I'm glad I got your distress call, sir.

ME: Thanx so much for getting here fast, officer.

SHELBYE: We'll get the kids you say are now armed and lurking in the field.

ME: Good, good...we'll use your tranquilizer plan to make it more sane too.

SHELBYE: There's been talk of demon-hauntings in these harvest fields, sir.

ME: Thank goodness you're here (now/however) to find some Heaven here.

SHELBYE: Cool.

Officer Shelbye didn't survive the ordeal. However, my kids were (eventually) freed from that dark grip of harvest field demonic possession; Shelbye was bloody-murdered by some of my students, 3 of them in fact/deeds, who used the found/buried field scythes to attack her to death (wow). We buried Shelbye in a very nice cemetery; and I began exorcist-like treatment of the students, the young children, responsible. This was a tale of miraculous salvage for what was otherwise a field trip anything but invocative of the mod-Earthling 'culture' of social network and media and Selfie cool training for all that capitalism (or our Blue-Planet!) had to offer (to all!).