We were just some dumb seniors in high school when we found it. A rowdy bunch who barely paid attention in class and spent most of the time just drinking. It was just us; Jonathan, Mason and Enzo, the hick kids as we were called. On weekends we would go up in the mountains, find a spot to camp, and drink till the sun came up.
It wasn’t until our usual camping spot had been snatched that we had to find a new one. We traveled beyond the mountains till we found a spot that resided next to a field. It was near an abandoned farm and there wasn’t much left of the place. The spot was pretty mediocre; there was a lot of trash left from the last campers. Though the field is what made it worth it, tons of space to run around. Before the sun went down we tried playing football on the field. Turns out the field was practically a death trap as Mason almost broke his foot when he fell into a soft spot. He sank almost all the way up to his calf leaving a pretty bad bruise.
At night is when we first found it, we ran back into the fields to play another game only to be pushed back by some invisible force. Dumbfounded by what we found, we tried again as we ran towards the center of the field only to have Enzo get flung back by the force. The closer you got to the center the stronger the force was. It circled the field in every direction it never got easier no matter where you tried it from. Like how magnets will repel when you put the opposite ends near each other.
Needless to say, that night was the best night we ever had challenging each other to see how far we could get. In our drunken stupor, we would run at top speed only to get flung back. It never got old just watching your drunk friend’s body fly through the air. In the morning the field had seemed to go back to normal. We tried the field again just to see if anything changed but there was nothing to be found.
From then on we visited that spot every time we went camping just to see how far we could get to the eye of the storm. Soon we started to get more creative bringing weights and ice axes. Jonathan once tried a four-wheeler driving it at full speed into the force. Needless to say, he ended up in the emergency room that night.
In some way we all kind of knew we were testing fate, messing with a phenomenon we didn’t understand. Yet curiosity got the better of us just the thought of getting into the eye of the storm was enough to push us to try harder. In the end, none of us could really get to the center no matter how hard we tried.
It wasn’t till our last time camping before graduation that everything changed. That time felt different. We were exhausted from finals just barely getting a C on all our tests. That night was calmer than the rest. None of us really wanted to challenge the force. mostly we just sat and talked about the last couple of years as we sipped our beers. That night was the last time we were probably ever going to see each other. I didn’t want our last moments together to just be us wallowing in our misery. Something inside me that night was itching to get into that circle just one more try. With a shot of liquid courage, I started to walk towards the field. I could feel everyone’s gaze on me. I could hear their hushed whispers, doubting that I’d be the one to make it. I had always been the weakest of the group barely getting anywhere near the center compared to them.
This time though I wanted to challenge the fates of God, I wanted to reach beyond. Slowly I walked into the field the force quickly taking over as I stumbled back almost falling on my back. Still, I persisted pushing head-on as I trudged further. Soon I started crawling, gripping the tall grass in front of me as it cut into my skin. Blood started falling from my hands but the pain only made me want the prize more. I could feel the pressure digging into my chest but it only made me want to go further. I closed my eyes only focused on pushing further than ever before. My body was lifted into the air and the only thing keeping me from flying away was my grip on the earth. The pressure on my chest began to intensify like God herself was pushing me away. With everything I had left, I reached forward until the pressure finally ceased. Then silence, the earth stood still for just a moment. I was exhausted but overjoyed that I had just made it to the center, something not even a four-wheeler could have done. The silence was broken as I heard the cheers of my friends as they ran in my direction. Jonathan picked me up, his face ecstatic as he screamed for joy that I had made it. Mason came by as they both put me on their shoulders chanting underdog as they spun me around. Enzo just stood there more disappointed than anything else, upset that I had ruined the fun.
I had never felt more accomplished than that day, it was as if I had made the final touchdown at the Superbowl. To this day I hold that memory in times of struggle. If only I knew my heroic action would be our ruin.
Two days later I got the call. Mason was found dead at his girlfriend’s place. I never felt true fear until I saw the mangled corpse of my friend. The chest had been torn outwards, ripping a hole in his chest. His ribcage was shattered and pieces of flesh and bone were scattered across the room. Blood practically coated the walls. His neck was almost torn off his head as it dangled behind the couch. His eyes were gray and hollow like a filter was coated over them. His face was frozen in a terrified state as if in his final moments he saw death himself. In the autopsy, it was stated that the lungs were missing and there was no trace of them anywhere. It was like the lungs weren’t even there to begin with.
The night of his death Mason’s girlfriend Anna stated that he was coming to stay the night since her parents were on a business trip. When he got there though he was gripping his chest obviously in pain believing it must have been something he drank. It lasted all night to the point where he was sweating puddles trying to keep quiet so as not to wake the neighbors. No matter what Anna said she couldn’t convince Mason to go to the hospital eventually, she gave up and retired for the night. Her sleep was disturbed by a loud popping noise. When she went to check on him, that’s how she found him. It was labeled a homicide but without any evidence of a break-in, the prime suspect was Anna. She probably would have been found guilty if it wasn’t for the second incident.
Next came Enzo. It happened when he was buying drugs from his plug’s place. The dealer Jack said Enzo came in late gripping his chest as he entered. He was white as a ghost staining his carpet with sweat. At moments he would randomly stagger almost falling backwards like he was being pushed back. Eventually, Jack gave him a blunt believing it would help him relax. When he took a hit Jack watched as the smoke went in but didn’t come out. Then Enzo just stopped, his eyes glossed over as he laid almost lifeless on the couch. He whispered something to himself. Jack got close only able to make out a couple of words. The hands are cold. Then like a bomb, his chest tore open as blood, guts and bone flew across the room drenching Jack in blood.
With the second death of Enzo, Jonathan and I knew if we didn’t do something we were next. We drove back to the spot in the field. There had to be something we missed, something I hadn’t seen since that night. When we arrived I retraced my steps remembering where and how I managed to get to the center. There was nothing, nothing that showed the reason for all of this.
Then it hit me that there was nothing from that night. I bled that night while trying to get to the center. It hadn’t rained for days. In that case, there should have been dried blood. To the best of my abilities, I found the spot in which I bled and started to dig down. Jonathan joined me as we both frantically dug until our hands went numb. The soil below started to get moist and heavy. Our hands began to turn from brown to red as we quickly discovered we were moving blood. Soon there was more blood than dirt. I plunged my hand into the blood pushing the saturated soil until I felt it. A slab of flesh under the earth solid and slick, I could feel it faintly breathing. It took long raspy breaths, I could feel the blood around my arm slightly rise and fall. We had found God and we had angered her. The force was never coming from the sky it was coming from down below. It was its air and in my persistence to challenge her, I had stolen it. Now she’s stealing ours, punishing us one by one.
Before I could say anything I looked back at Jonathan to see that there was fear in his eyes as he was grabbing his chest. We rubbed our hands in the grass trying to clean the blood off before we rushed to the car. As we drove he told me it felt like a great hand was digging into him. It got worse, no matter how hard he tried to fake it I could tell he was in serious pain. Finally, we arrived at the nearest emergency room as I pleaded with the receptionist to get Jonathan a doctor. As soon as we got a room he started turning white as his eyes glossed over. He went into an almost trance-like state oblivious to any of my words. Then he snapped as he screamed at me that this was my fault, how I was the one who had to test God and damn us all. He jumped from his bed as he grabbed me digging his nails into my chest. Staff had to restrain him and strap him to the bed. Only then was the doctor able to get a scan of his chest.
What I saw both amazed and terrified me at the same time. In the scan, there were the outlines of two hands slowly moving their way towards the lungs. They were practically rearranging Jonathan’s insides as they simply pushed the other organs out of the way. The hands slowly inched their way to the center of the lungs, with every push Jonathan reacted with a painful groan.
After a couple of minutes, they managed to reach the eye of the storm gripping his lungs. Then all at once Jonathan went gray as his eyes turned the same shade. He looked at me with defeat and anger sprawled on his face. All he said was it’s so cold. I didn’t watch him. I couldn’t do it. I left the room as I heard the crunching sound of flesh and bone tear followed by the screams of the doctor.
I drove home as the crunching sound of Jonathan played in my head on repeat. I grabbed a shovel, a lamp and my dad’s old beat-up shotgun he kept in the shed before I headed back into the field. By the time I got there it was pitch black, I could barely recognize the spot. I stumbled into the fields feeling the old familiar force. I pushed and repeated the actions I had done that same night but even with the added weight I still failed to reach the center. With every attempt, I managed to get further away. No matter what I did I couldn’t get back and with every attempt, I was exerting myself. Then came my worst fear as I felt the cool touch on my chest. I didn’t have much time left. Only then did I leave the lamp and shovel bringing only the shotgun strapped to my back. I closed my eyes as I walked, pushing away any feelings of fear and loss only focused on the eye of the storm. With everything I had left, I pushed forwards, until I was crawling on all fours, until I was gripping the earth, until my hands began to bleed. Until finally with one final push the force ceased. I fell to the ground exhausted but still determined.
With what little I had left I dug into the earth. The pressure on my chest became more intense as I felt the hands trying to tear into my flesh. The deeper I went the bloodier it got until finally I reached the bottom again. I plunged my hand into the blood feeling for flesh. Instead, I felt a large fleshy tube. With both hands I ripped the tube upwards just past the blood. In my hands I watched it rise and fall as air flowed through rapidly increasing. It was the trachea, the center of the lungs. I was ready to tear the thing apart before I dropped it as I grabbed at my chest. I could feel it gripping my lungs. My body went cold as my vision began to blur. I swung my shotgun into my hands blindly unloading on the hole below. the earth shook as blood splattered back into my face. With every shot, I could feel the rumble of screams that came below. I didn’t stop until the pressure in my chest ceased and my vision started to clear. I fell back exhausted as I closed my eyes, eventually passing out on the cool grass. I awoke to the warmth of the rising sun. One last time I plunged my hand into the earth feeling for any sign of life.
God was dead.
Time went on and eventually the field shriveled up and died in a matter of a couple of days. The forest followed as well; no form of life could be found for miles. As for me, life went on and eventually I learned to put the past behind me. For the longest time, I lived in contentment, unafraid of God ever coming back.
It was until late last night that I felt the cool touch of God on my chest once more. I’m too far from the fields to stop her, in the end, she won. She’s been waiting so long for this moment to finally get revenge. I feel it now, the cold hand of death gripping my lungs ready to pull at any moment, yet she’s making me wait. Whether she is enjoying this moment, savoring every second before it takes me. Or if she’s waiting for me to finish this, to tell the world never to make the same mistake as I have. It can take my life but I’m not giving it the satisfaction of fear. From that glimmer of strength I still have from that night, from the memory of my friends holding me up in celebration, I’ll face her with everything I’ve got.
Credit: Sterling Rabbit
Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.