author:deadweight ergot explicit hallucinations lost rye sadbox self-mutilation

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Bringing In The Sheaves

By Deadweight

Fall had descended upon Michigan and the wind had a chill to it. It was a still night in Alma, the clouds had scattered and it was a moonlit night. A patch of forest lines a rotting old wooden fence. The tall weeds part as a tan and ivory earthy stallion steps out and ducks under the fence. Scrimshaw was far from home. His daddy was an old sailor named Jerry. He passed away one day while they were fishing at a pond. After poor Scrimshaw couldn't wake Jerry, he wandered off in search of home. That was a month and 40 miles ago.

"Huuhuu, Scwimshaw miss daddeh su mush! Tummeh hab wowstest hewties. Dummeh bushies nu taste pwetty!"

Scrimshaw sobs and laments his misfortune as he crosses some grass. Suddenly he smells something. He looks up to see tall stalks illuminated by the moon, bent under the weight of their overgrown grains. Rye, oddly out of place for this time of year. And definitely unattended as it has grown far taller than it should before harvest. But to Scrimshaw, it is a blessing.

"GASP! Dem cwunchy gwassies! Su mush tu!"

Scrimshaw practically stampedes into the tall rye, flattening the stalks so he can get at the rye grains. He strips them clean voraciously. His empty stomach grateful for the feast. The little fluffy practically sobs with joy as he downs mouthful after mouthful of the little grains. By the time he is sated, he has cleared a 15 foot diameter.

"URP, tummeh su fuww. Scwimshaw sweepy naow."

The groggy fluffy looks around and finds a large old tree, it's trunk rotted out and hollow. Scrimshaw picks up a large mouthful of the rye stalks and carries them to the hollowed out tree. He lines the floor with the stalks and grabs more. Soon he has a nice straw bed to rest on. He curls up and yawns as his amber eyes flutter shut.

Scrimshaw slumbers for hours as his body greedily digests the rye. It's the soundest he has slept in days. He dreams of daddy Jerry and the fun times they had catching lake trout. Scrimshaw would play with a bait worm in the dirt or wrestle the fishes when they got on shore. Good times. Scrimshaw's peaceful slumber is broken as his stomach starts to gurgle.

"Wuh? Wai tummeh give hewties? Scwimshaw num wotsa cwunchy gwass!"

SNAP!

Just then, Scrimshaw hears a branch break nearby. He almost shits himself in fear as he goes silent and listens.

"It'ssss overrrr heeeerrreee. Get the flufffyyyyyy."

Scrimshaw's heart races as he hears to slurred almost hissing voices coming his way. He breathes heavy and goes silent before he hears a loud voice right outside the tree.

"FLUFFY!"

Scrimshaw bolts from the tree with a squeaky fart and runs into the rye field.

SCREEEE! "Nu hewt Scwimshaw! Am gud fwuffeh! Onwy wan daddeh!"

He plows through the rye as fast as he can, huffing as the stalks whip him in the face.

"COOOOOOOMMMEE BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

The voices fade away and Scrimshaw runs until he comes out the other side of the rye patch.

"HAF HAF. Huuhuu, Scwimshaw nu wike scawy voices. Jus wan daddeh!"

Scrimshaw sits composing himself, sniffling when the sky seems to grow very dark. He looks up to see the clouds swirling around the moon. He sits mesmerized until he hears a creaking and cracking sound. He looks behind him to see jagged tree branches descending upon him.

SCREEE! "Munstah!"

Scrimshaw takes off back into the rye and stops in the middle to again catch his breath. He can't stop shaking and it's getting worse. His vision goes fuzzy around the edges and he see's flashes of color. Suddenly, he hears a hissing sound.

"Huuhuu, wats dat sound?"

Scrimshaw turns left and right, Looking around him for the source of the noise. The rye begins to shift and wiggle. Scrimshaw looks on horrified as it begins to morph into snakes. Lots of snakes, wriggling and slithering to the ground and swarming his hoofs.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE! "Nu wike dangew noodwes!"

He bolts through the slithering mass, running for dear life as the field of snakes try to coil around his legs. He shakes and kicks, managing to stumble free of them. He turns to look back and the rye patch is back to normal.

"Huuhuu, wai bad fings keep happenin tu Scwimshaw?"

He sits with tears staining his face, looking up to the sky in a silent prayer for help. The clouds begin to shift and break apart. They start to form into giant, monstrous crows. Scrimshaw pisses himself as he sits trembling, the crows swooping down with huge claws.

"NUUUUU! Biwdie munstahs weave scwimshaw awone!"

Scrimshaw runs across open field with every last ounce of strength he has. He hears the horrid cries of the crows. Feels the beating of their wings blowing hot wind on him. He runs until he is utterly spent and comes to a halt before a small pond. He closes his eyes and waits for the crows to take him. But they don't come. He opens his eyes and looks up. The sky is back to normal and the crows are gone. Scrimshaw breaks down into massive sobs.

"Huuhuuhuu! Scwimshaw wan go home! Wan daddeh! Nu mowe munstahs!"

The morose little earthy sniffles and laments his cruel fate. When he wipes enough tears away to see, he looks at his reflection in the moonlit pond. The skin under his eyes seems to be sagging.

"Whus wong wif face?"

He reaches up with his hoof and touches the loose flesh. As he does, it sags more and starts to rip and fall away.

"Huuhuu, wai facie give hewties?"

Scrimshaw sits and pulls at his face with his hoofs. Clumps of fluff covered flesh fall away. Skin splats into the pond as his ears and snout fall away.

"NUUUUUUU! Pwease facie nu weave Scwimshaw!"

As he peels his flesh away, an angry red fluff begins to appear.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

The last bits fall away and his scream goes quiet. The last thing Scrimshaw see's before his heart explodes from fear is his reflection. A bright red face with beady black eyes and a dead smile.

The next day, farmer Allen and his hand Pauly come out to the rye patch with some kerosene to discover Scrimshaw by the pond.

"Jesus! What the fuck happened here?!"

Allen rushes over to Pauly and finds Scrimshaw. His face is mangled, eyes clawed out. His front hoofs are broken away and bloody bone sticks out. Allen shakes his head.

"Poor bastard musta got into the tainted rye. Prolly tore his own eyes out from the hallucinations. That ergot is nasty stuff!"

Pauly almost vomits from the stench of shit and blood.

"Get the shovel and toss him in the field, shoulda burned this patch awhile ago."

Pauly scoops the dead fluffy up and hucks it into the rye patch. Allen spreads the kerosene and tosses a match. The two of them stand aside near the truck with the hose and water tank, ready to keep the flames from spreading. The small patch roars into a blaze as the two watch, sniffing the air. Pauly's stomach growls and he turns to Allen.

"Man, I got a sudden craving for barbecue!"

END
Uploader deadweight,
Tags author:deadweight ergot hallucinations lost rye sadbox self-mutilation
Rating explicit
Source en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ergot
Locked No

Comments

- Reply
deadweight: A short story that has been kicking around my head for awhile. Ergot is a nasty little fungus! Enjoy!
- Reply
Arazur: Danger noodle lol
- Reply
deadweight: @Arazur: I couldn't resist!

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guodzilla: @deadweight: Salem witch-trials much?
;-)
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deadweight: @guodzilla: sorcery!

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Seare: the ending made me lmao
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Anonymous1: Ergotism (pron. /ˈɜːrɡətˌɪzəm/ UR-gət-iz-əm) is the effect of long-term ergot poisoning, traditionally due to the ingestion of the alkaloids produced by the Claviceps purpurea fungus that infects rye and other cereals, and more recently by the action of a number of ergoline-based drugs.

So it wouldn't happen after just one meal for most animals, but fluffy GI tracks are strange so maybe.

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guodzilla: @Anonymous: Also, he ate one hell of a lot for a fluffy.

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guodzilla: Wait a sec... Did anybody notice that his last hallucination before dying was a jellenheimer?
- Reply
deadweight: @guodzilla: finally!
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Anonymous2: Wish this had been posted on Halloween.
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StormytheHugboxer: @guodzilla: Yeah. I read that, and when it said what he saw was an angry red fluffy, I immediately thought jellenheimer!
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Anonymous3: Nu wike dangew noodwes! That sent my sides into orbit.

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babbehteef: "Lysergic Acid Diethylamide - LSD. LSD is one of the most powerful hallucinogenic drugs known. It was invented in 1938 by the Swiss chemist, Albert Hoffman, who was interested in developing medicines from compounds in ergot, a fungus that attacks rye."

*slow clap*
- Reply
deadweight: @babbehteef: Thanks?