The cornfield was a place 76 was staying away from, it never had anything good in it, and when he didn't come to in the middle of it himself- never wander in to it.

He pushed away from the fence, hands rubbing together as the smear of blood remained on the warped and worn looking wood. None of it was on his skin, no matter how fresh it looked or part of it dripped. "You're assuming it feels young," it was grunted, 76 looking off away from the house and the red horizon filled with smoke. No, instead he was moving towards a different field, one that stretched out near the woods he didn't really remember.

"You never leave when wanted, why start now."