The rest of the night had passed quietly. At the morning, when all troubled conversations between workers had died, I was still lying awake on my bunk, thinking about my next step. My colleagues, despite or because of their nervousness weren’t ready for any sort of action. They were good enough fellows, but not very quick on their feet. Only a few bothered to ask me about what I saw and frankly, they didn’t look eager to investigate the matter. Telling my story about the accident, I omitted some of the more unsettling details, such as blood-covered symbols and sounds coming from the seemingly empty barn. There was no need to scare people into awareness, since I actually decided to look into it myself. Therefore what I needed was not a trembling hand of another fearful farmer, but rather some firepower, since all I had was my hunting knife. It wasn’t a mystery that Tom had plenty of guns at his disposal. He was also a very strict, stern, old-fashioned, practical man; that suited my purposes just fine. Shortly after that morning I talked to him about the accident and offered my services as a night watchman for a symbolic price. All I needed was a firearm and maybe a dog so I could catch trespassers and raise alarm quickly. As I put it, what could’ve happened? The madman could’ve easily set the barn on fire. We were lucky he was preoccupied with his nonsensical rituals. These arguments were reasonable enough for Tom and he approved of the idea, though not without a dispute about my somewhat young age and trustworthiness. He gave me an old shotgun with several boxes of shells and told all workers that I was assigned to guard their sleep. I was excited to do some target-practice, but first I had to conduct a small experiment I had in mind. To check if the food from the barn wasn’t poisoned I fed my ration to one of the dogs. You can guess that wasn’t the nicest pup. However, the dog seemed absolutely unaffected by meal and farmers didn’t show any signs of illness either… But even with all that in mind, I couldn’t touch the food, so when the night came I was starving. "At least it helps me to stay awake", I thought, shivering in the cold wind. Now I have to say, I’ve never been easily scared, but that moonless night on the farm, with the remains of the wards, the ritual signs written on the walls, blood, which soaked into the earth under my feet and memories still fresh in my mind, gave me the creeps. I started to regret my decision to put the dogs away for the time being. Surely, they made a lot of noise, but the silence seemed much more ominous in comparison. With some time to think, I started to doubt the barn was really empty the other night. There must’ve been… Something. Anything at all. I knew I heard it, whatever it was. Was I really attentive when I entered the barn the previous night? Must be something I missed... After nearly an hour of indecisiveness I just had to check the barn. I had to know for sure. I gathered my courage, approached the door and tried to listen as closely as I could. Everything was quiet. This time I had the keys Tom gave me, so I was determined to get inside. I opened the door and lighted a kerosene lamp which hanged from a nail near the entrance. The air inside was warm, stale and unpleasant. Once again I felt a sense of upcoming danger. With each step I glanced back and forth, ready to shoot. At first I haven’t felt anything. But then, when I was at the middle of the building simultaneously I heard a faint noise and saw something moving in a big sack to the right. Immediately I pointed my gun at it, took a few steps back and shouted “Who’s there!?” Half a minute passed with no reply. I shouted again “Show yourself or I’ll shoot!” and received no answer. Finally, I couldn’t wait no more. I shot the sack. The blood sprayed all over the building, making me shudder with revulsion. Suddenly the barn was full of movement: the sack was filled with big black maggot-like insects with numerous legs. They writhed on the floor, spilling putrid substance from their bloated bodies and clawed at the air, trying to get away from the light. Their foul smell and squishy sounds they made were utterly repulsive. It was only worsened by their formidable size. I’ve seen parasites before, but I couldn’t identify these monstrosities. I was about to walk out of the barn when something occurred to me. Stricken with a terrible thought, I rushed to farmers’ dormitory…
