This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Soulless_windows on 2024-10-29 18:44:37+00:00.

“Hasn’t this ride gone on for a bit long?” I asked my coworker Eric. He was sitting next to me on scratchy hay bales as we bumped along on this haunted hayride.

We had all shown up to the farm and cider mill a couple of hours earlier on this Tuesday afternoon. It was supposed to be a “team building” outing, but honestly, I was just glad to get away from my computer for an afternoon. After gathering at our meeting spot we went into the building to get some fresh apple cider and donuts. It was a crisp autumn day in Michigan; the leaves had just started to fall to the ground and their bright colors got me into the Halloween spirit. Even more than the sweet taste of the apple cider.

I thought about that cider now, wishing I had thought to bring some for the ride. We’d been on the hayride for quite a while when I brought up the question to Eric. He turned with a confused look and said “aren’t you having fun?” I smiled sheepishly back and agreed that I was, dropping the matter. He had been one of the team members that planned the trip and I didn’t want him to feel bad.

I tried to join in on the boisterous and laughing conversation between coworkers, but my mind kept wandering. I started paying more attention to the props and decorations that we passed as part of the “haunted” experience. They were your run of the mill (no pun intended) plastic skeletons performing various farm tasks: one had a straw hat and was hoeing a field. There was a skeleton couple in flannel shirts picking apples. Another one was in a pumpkin patch holding a lantern. One was peeking out from the corn stalks.

As we passed scene after scene of whimsical skeletons I couldn’t help but sigh internally. I was expecting a haunted hayride more of the jump-scare variety, like a haunted house on wheels. This was frankly underwhelming, and I’m sure that didn’t help with my anxiousness to get off the ride.

We’d gone around the bend where I expected to see the skeleton peeking out from the corn for what felt like the millionth time. A strange sense of dread came over me when I noticed that the skeleton was missing. I shook off the feeling. Maybe we weren’t where I thought we were, or the skeleton had fallen. Not anything to get freaked out about. I probably lost track when Christine made her candy corn joke and we’d already passed it or something.

It’s starting to get dark. We got here mid-afternoon, so I don’t know how this is possible. My phone says it’s 6:30. That can’t be right, or that means we’ve been on this ride for over 4 hours. No one else seems to notice or care, the conversation carrying on like nothing is wrong. Why am I the only one concerned?

All of the skeletons are gone. I don’t know if some worker came around behind us and packed them up for the night. If that was the case though, wouldn’t they stop the ride? I’ve asked the group multiple times if we shouldn’t get off the ride now. They just laugh and ask if I’m having fun. I’m not having fun anymore.

I don’t know why I didn’t consider it sooner, I’ll talk to the driver!

There was no reply, maybe he can’t hear me over the rumble of the tractor.

I’m starting to see the skeletons in the trees. This brought a moment of clarity, and I started laughing. This is all part of the haunted hayride. Of course it is! I wanted a thrill and here I am getting it and all I’m doing is complaining. What artistry, what commitment this farm has put in for us. My coworkers get it, of course they do and that’s why they’re all laughing, laughing because I’m new. They probably do this every year. Our collective laughter picks up volume as I join in, I’m part of the team now after all!

When I come to from my laughing fit, tears streaming down my face, I realize It’s pitch black outside now. Everything is quiet, but I can still see the silhouettes of my coworkers in the moonlight. I tried jumping off once, as the hayride has shown no sign of stopping. But I just end up back in the wagon. In fact, it seems to be speeding up as we go around and around. I can’t see the skeletons anymore. I’m afraid.

As I sit here and think about what this means, an even more intense panic starts rising in the back of my mind - I forgot to send that final draft to my boss.