The Hand

Maxwell hopped around the Field, enjoying the feel of the sun warming his fur. His nose twitched as he followed the scent towards his meal. The Field always had plentiful food and Maxwell was in the mood for lettuce. He was a simple rabbit, enjoying simple pleasures. As Maxwell approached the lettuce, his cotton tail twitched in excitement. The lettuce was especially crisp and saturated today. The sky was the perfect shade of blue. Birds were singing a happy tune. Their song was seemingly just for him. Maxwell did not need anything more than this.

His long ears perked up as he heard a familiar voice from behind him. Maxwell knew his happy meal was about to be interrupted.

“Hey, Maxwell,” said Zach. “You have to come with me. Old Harris is ranting again. Everyone is gathering. Let’s go listen.”

Maxwell and Zach were cousins, but this was hardly unusual. Most rabbits that lived in The Field were related in some way. The only rabbit that nobody was related to was Old Harris. Old Harris was seventeen years old, which was ancient for a rabbit. Nobody was old enough to remember a time when he was not around. He had always been there. The old rabbit spent his days staying to himself, except when he came out of his burrow to lecture them. For every rabbit in The Field, Old Harris was just a part of their everyday life that they accepted. He had always been there, and as far as they knew, he always would be.

Maxwell didn’t like how Old Harris made him feel.

“I’m not in the mood,” said Maxwell. “It’s the perfect temperature, the lettuce is crisp and moist. Why should we ruin it with Old Harris’ crazy predictions of the coming apocalypse?”

“Because,” Zach answered, hopping up and down. “It’s fun! Plus, I heard he was especially frantic today. Come on, we can’t be the only ones who don’t go!”

“You and I have very different ideas of fun,” Maxwell said. Most rabbits tried to ignore Old Harris. The crueler amongst them would openly mock him. Maxwell felt sorry for the old rabbit. Whenever Maxwell heard Old Harris rant, he got very sad. Zach had never taken to insulting Old Harris, but he was openly amused by the rantings of the crazed rabbit.

“Come on,” Zach pleaded. “He hasn’t been out in a while. He probably has a bunch of pent-up insanity to let out. Don’t you need a little excitement in your life?”

Maxwell was about to inform his cousin that excitement was the last thing he needed, but he saw the look on Zach’s face and knew that he would be relentless. Maxwell took a final bite of lettuce.

“Fine,” Maxwell said. “Let’s go.”

The two rabbits hopped through the grass, coming across the rest of the colony. Zach wasn’t exaggerating. It seemed every rabbit was out to hear Old Harris today. Maxwell and Zach nuzzled their way towards the front, trying to listen to Old Harris amidst the murmurings of the others. Most were whispering amongst themselves. A couple of the younger rabbits were giggling. A few were even yelling insults at him. Maxwell blocked the rest of the colony out and focused on Old Harris.

“The Day of The Hand will soon be upon us!” Old Harris proclaimed. He looked straight ahead but saw nothing with his milky white eyes. “The Hand will appear soon, as it did in my youth! One amongst you will be chosen, as I was! One amongst you will take the journey and be forever changed!”

Maxwell felt uneasy listening to the ramblings of the blind old rabbit. He knew it was a mistake to come here. He looked towards Zach, but his cousin was too caught up in the prophecies of the crazed rabbit to even notice him. His ears drooping, Maxwell turned and went back towards the lettuce patch. He hoped the leaves were still as crisp as they had been earlier.

Maxwell halted as thunder filled the sky. No, it was not thunder. It was more like the sky was being torn apart. Maxwell looked around, but there were no other rabbits. There had not been a cloud in the sky, yet the sun was being blocked out. A shadow moved across The Field. Maxwell looked up, frozen in his tracks. The sky had opened, and a gigantic hand was coming towards him. Maxwell could only look, frozen in terror, as the Hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and lifted him up into the sky.

Petrified, Maxwell found himself unable to move. It was as if the world had gone insane. As Maxwell travelled upwards, the blue sky of The Field had been replaced with pitch blackness. Maxwell looked at the darkness, which slowly morphed into a red fabric. His journey continued and Maxwell soon found himself on stage in an auditorium, being held in the air by The Hand.

The sound of applause was deafening. Maxwell was in the grasp of a man in a tuxedo, who dangled the rabbit above a top hat. The man took a bow and Maxwell knew he must have gone mad. A crowd of people in an auditorium were giving a standing ovation. The man returned him to the hat and Maxwell found himself being lowered back down to The Field.

Landing gently in The Field, Maxwell hopped away as fast as he could. He needed to tell the others what had happened. When he approached, a hushed silence had fallen over the colony. Old Harris was prone on the ground. He was so still.

One by one, the rest of the rabbits looked at Maxwell. There was something about the way they were looking at him that made Maxwell uneasy. He heard them whisper amongst themselves as they signaled in his direction. Their looks of confusion were the last thing he saw as his eyes went milky white.

He knew he had to warn them.

“The Hand!” Maxwell proclaimed. “The Hand will come for you!”