Reblogged from But I Smile Anyway:
A cry rang out through the air, across the surrounding fields.
Wilfred looked up from his work. He had been ploughing this particular area for the last few hours and he could have sworn that he had heard cries earlier, but this one was loud, crystal clear.
That voice, whoever it was, sounded in real trouble.
But where was it coming from? There was nothing around here apart from fields. Oh, and that old church.
Come to think of it, the cries seemed to come from that direction. He stopped, as he heard another cry, this one just as clear, but a little bleaker, or so it seems.
Not one to leave someone in distress, Wilfred halted his plough and secured it, then trudged over towards the old church. He didn’t recall ever having seen anyone here, well not for any joyous reason, anyway. It was usually him and the other farm hands. Most of the village were afraid to come here. There were some old stories of people disappearing, never to be found, so apart from the farmer, and his loyal farm hands, no one ventured here.