The Sound of Sience
Title: The Sound of Silence
Fandom: um, does the Birthday Unending have a fandom?
Rating: G?
Warning: long trains of thought, hints that the corn maze has things, second person POV
Description: so I became a fan of seanan-mcguire through Mark Does Stuff, and have been following her on tumblr, and well, it's my birthday soon and all of a sudden a fic about the corn maze came into my head and there you go
Read on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1800364
Walk slowly around the blood pit, and you are right next to it.
You hear the dim singing of the participants, their cheers at the newest member, but that is behind you. There are children diving into the glitter pool, and the shark silently swims in the crimson pool you have just circled.
Come a little closer it whispers
You've heard no one goes in, no one really leaves if they do go in, but you step forward anyway.
The stalks are tall and dry around you, the path only wide enough for one person. You can still see the Birthday behind you if you wanted to look, but you want to see where the path goes, so you step forward.
And again.
Now the Birthday is dim, the laughter echoing faintly, like a memory you have almost lost. The wind bows, and you can hear the rustle of the stalks, but that is not the noise that draws you in.
Listen it says, and you stop and close your eyes.
You aren't hearing the noise with your ears, but inside your head. You don't get lost in the corn maze because you have no direction. No, the corn maze is you listening to the noise of your brain, and wandering off the path, uncertain of why you came, or where to go next.
You shut your eyes tighter, because there is so much to hear, and it doesn't all process at once.
Sometime later, as they all do, you find your way back to the table. The others who have been don't speak of it, but you can see it in their eyes. Because as much as they laugh and sing, you know they are still listening to the sound of the silence, the never ending buzz, they are at the table, but like all those who go in, they have never left the corn.
Fandom: um, does the Birthday Unending have a fandom?
Rating: G?
Warning: long trains of thought, hints that the corn maze has things, second person POV
Description: so I became a fan of seanan-mcguire through Mark Does Stuff, and have been following her on tumblr, and well, it's my birthday soon and all of a sudden a fic about the corn maze came into my head and there you go
Read on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1800364
Walk slowly around the blood pit, and you are right next to it.
You hear the dim singing of the participants, their cheers at the newest member, but that is behind you. There are children diving into the glitter pool, and the shark silently swims in the crimson pool you have just circled.
Come a little closer it whispers
You've heard no one goes in, no one really leaves if they do go in, but you step forward anyway.
The stalks are tall and dry around you, the path only wide enough for one person. You can still see the Birthday behind you if you wanted to look, but you want to see where the path goes, so you step forward.
And again.
Now the Birthday is dim, the laughter echoing faintly, like a memory you have almost lost. The wind bows, and you can hear the rustle of the stalks, but that is not the noise that draws you in.
Listen it says, and you stop and close your eyes.
You aren't hearing the noise with your ears, but inside your head. You don't get lost in the corn maze because you have no direction. No, the corn maze is you listening to the noise of your brain, and wandering off the path, uncertain of why you came, or where to go next.
You shut your eyes tighter, because there is so much to hear, and it doesn't all process at once.
Sometime later, as they all do, you find your way back to the table. The others who have been don't speak of it, but you can see it in their eyes. Because as much as they laugh and sing, you know they are still listening to the sound of the silence, the never ending buzz, they are at the table, but like all those who go in, they have never left the corn.