When I was twenty three, I had a security gig at a dairy farm outside of Delphos, Ohio. It was a modest place, only holding a few dozen cows at any given time.  My then-coworker, a thirty four year old “recovering” meth addict named Cory, had just been fired for letting a cow go missing on his watch. 

A fireable offense in every sense of the word.

For starters, Cory was insane. By the time I’d met him, drug induced psychosis had rendered him virtually schizophrenic. On long nights spent with him during my training period, he’d tell me about CIA agents that were out to get him. He was convinced that they were broadcasting thoughts into his head via electromagnetic waves, and that they would stop at nothing to ruin his life. More than once, I’d catch him glancing over his shoulder, or peeking out of windows with a dumb look on his face, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever was following him. That's the type of person that Cory was. 

Each of our cows had an ear tag labeled with a number. At 8PM, they were each to be guided into their own respective stalls and locked in for the night. Padlocks became the norm after an incident with local kids a few years earlier. In the mornings, we’d have to carry around a clipboard containing each lock combination and individually release each one. It made for an annoying way to start the day, but the cows were a hell of a lot more secure that way. That's what made Cory’s story so unbelievable. He had claimed that the previous night, cow number Twenty Nine had been locked away in her stall along with the others. He told us that the only thing out of the ordinary that night was an obnoxious bat stuck in the rafters that he planned to deal with in the morning. 

In order for his claim to be true, an intruder would’ve had to unlock the barn with a set of keys, unlock Twenty Nines stall with the correct combination, then reset both of the locks and leave undetected. Either that, or they picked up a sixteen hundred pound animal and leaped through a window. Considering Corys nasty habit of abandoning his duties in order to twitch and hallucinate in the corner, a small part of me believed that some two-bit thief might’ve been able to get one over on him. My boss, however, a fifty year old hothead, concluded that Cory must’ve been involved with the cow’s disappearance and promptly kicked him to the curb. 

With nobody else to fill his position, my boss had offered to pay me extra for each of his duties that I could complete until we received a new hire. Naturally, I agreed. I’d be heading back to school in a few weeks and needed all the money I could get. 

My first night back at work began normally. Since I’d now be doing the work of two security guards, I’d arrived early to get a head start on Cory’s checklist. I started by sweeping out the barn. Farmhands tried to keep the TMR in a long pile just in front of the stall doors so the cows could eat throughout the night, but that shit practically painted the floor by the time I got there. 

Midway through, I’d noticed something reflective in the corner of the barn. I lazily swept a loose bit of corn and hay over to it to investigate. On the floor before me, was a neon yellow ear tag. I picked it up to examine it. 

[29]

Next to Twenty Nine’s ear tag were the skeletal remains of a bat. I guessed that was just another thing that Cory never got around to dealing with. I swept up the bones along with the rest of the barn. By the time I was finished, it was already 8PM. 

I made my way out to the fields and then, one at a time, I guided each cow to its assigned stall. I got through about ten or so before I noticed something strange. Across the field, about fifty meters away from the others, was a lone cow. 

It faced away from me, seemingly transfixed on a nearby cornfield. Seeing a cow on its own is nothing strange in and of itself, they need personal space the same as people do. 

What was strange was the way that her tail stuck straight out from behind her, unwavering.

She stood as if she were afraid to slip, with her feet planted far apart. Perhaps the strangest of all, her head appeared to be tilted at a ninety degree angle.

I wasn’t eager to tell my boss. They’d put down many sick cows before, but losing two in the matter of a week might’ve been enough to send him over the edge. I decided to save that cow for last as I continued to guide the rest of them inside for the night. Being in charge of twice the amount of cows I was used to was time consuming. It took me nearly an hour to round them up. By the time I’d locked number Thirty Six for the night, It was nine o’ clock. I should’ve been making my rounds by then, especially given the circumstances. I just had that last cow to deal with.

While contemplating how long it was going to take me to unlock each cow in the morning, I realized something that made my blood run cold. The only stall left empty was number  Twenty Nine.

I shuffled to the field. Surely enough, she was there. She hadn’t moved an inch since I’d started the process of moving them. I approached her slowly. It was surreal seeing a creature frozen in such an odd position. As I came up on her, I could hear a definite, but muffled, chittering. It was unlike any noise I’d ever heard from a cow. 

What the fuck did you eat? I thought to myself.

I whistled to the cow before approaching her to avoid startling her. On a dime, the chittering ceased. The cows left ear rose to face the sky and began to oscillate rhythmically like the periscope of a submarine. 

I could tell that moving this one would be a challenge. I rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her. Bonding is key when establishing any sort of relationship with an animal. I’d never interacted with Twenty Nine before, so we were unfamiliar with each other. Her skin felt bizarre, like clay with hide draped over it. I walked around to see her face. Her eyes were peeled open, darting around rapidly, her mouth hung open and drooped to the side. I examined her left ear, searching for a place to reinsert her tag, but there was no piercing.

I strapped a halter to Twenty Nines mouth and began to lead her. It was like trying to uproot a tree with a bike chain. Each tug I gave was fruitless. I began to put my weight into it, but still no luck. 

When I say“no luck”, I don’t mean that Twenty Nine wouldn’t follow me. I mean that her body showed zero sign of being affected by my body weight whatsoever. Cows are strong creatures, but they’re not made of stone. I was perplexed.

After fifteen minutes of this, I decided that it was useless to continue on. With the clock ever-ticking, I could no longer afford to neglect my rounds. I began to walk to the security post to collect my flashlight and get on with the night. As I pondered my life choices whilst dancing my way through a minefield of cow patties, I heard a slow trotting. I looked behind me, to see that the cow had in fact moved. Twenty Nine was now facing me. 

Not so shy now? I wondered.

I turned around and continued walking towards the gate. When I made it halfway through the field, I began to hear the trotting again. It was louder, and much quicker this time. 

I smiled to myself. 

Wish I’d known to walk away sooner.

Without turning to face the cow, I walked into the barn and began fumbling with Twenty Nines padlock.

3 left 32 right 23 left

As the lock clicked open I heard the floorboards behind me creak. A slow vocal droning noise turned to a sickly gurgle. 

“I hope to God whatever you’ve got isn't contagious!” I said before spinning around.

All color drained from my face as I was greeted with the sight of the eight foot tall beast standing before me on its hind legs.  Twenty Nines head was cocked sideways with one eye focused on me. Its pupil seemed to grow and shrink rapidly as it scanned over my entire body. Its lower jaw slowly moved up and down as it began to vocalize again. 

“I…..I….”

It began to creep towards me. Its front legs kicked wildly as it attempted to keep balance, all the while making that same noise.

“I……I…I” 

I began to feel light headed.  I grabbed Twenty Nine’s Padlock and made a break for the door. The cow began to rapidly stomp behind me. I began to hyperventilate as I sprinted. The rest of the cows were spooked, shaking and jumping around wildly. I slammed the door shut and clasped the padlock. A sickening boom shook the entire wall of the barn as Twenty Nine began to claw at the door.

“I……I..”..” The beast croaked before chittering once more

I backed away from the door slowly, its wooden frame bending and contorting at the sheer force behind it. Without another warning, I turned my back to the barn and ran to my car as Twenty Nine began wailing and pounding.

I never ended up making any rounds that night. Instead, I started my car and left that fucking place in the rear view mirror. I didn’t tell my boss. In fact, I deliberately avoided several of his phone calls because I had nothing to say. I figured it’d be best if I quit the easy way. There are certain things in life that back you into corners. Silence forces your hand, you know? That's why I’m writing this now. 

Of course I still wanted my money. A few weeks later, just before making my two hour commute back to college, I stopped by the farm to pick up my final check. My boss wasn’t in his office on Tuesdays, so I took advantage of the situation and granted myself access with the key that I'd seen him not-so-stealthily kick under the rug once or twice. After snagging my check and a few Jolly Ranchers, I got in my car and slowly began to drive away. Out of the corner of my eye, a young farmhand standing in the grazing field caught my attention. 

“Hey kid!” I shouted

“Stay away from the night shift!”

But he didn’t answer me. 

Nor even look at me.

He just continued to stare at the pile of bones before him.