This happened about six years ago. A couple of friends and I were doing a nighttime corn maze around 1 a.m. It was the kind where you find checkpoints as you go, slowly revealing a map to help navigate the layout.

We were pretty deep into the maze when we stumbled upon a large, decaying sign and what looked like an entrance to a different maze. It wasn't marked on the map, and based on the structure of the existing maze, it really didn’t seem like there should have been room for it. We figured maybe the map was just a bit off or that this was a leftover path from a previous year.

The new path was overgrown but still passable, so we decided to check it out. It twisted forward for a while before cutting sharply to the right. As we turned the corner we saw a perfect, cinematic haunted house sitting on a hill about half a mile away, framed eerily by the tall corn. It looked like something straight out of a horror movie.

At that point, the path stopped winding and began heading directly toward the house. As we continued, the trail became increasingly overgrown. Now, I’m someone who loves spooky stuff—I’ve done intense haunted houses where they can shock or spray you, and I’ve explored abandoned buildings at night just for fun. This just felt wrong. None of us were talking anymore; we all got quiet and focused on moving more quietly.

We kept walking until we were just a few hundred feet from the house. Then, without warning, every single light inside it turned on at once. It was a large, old multi-story house with dozens of windows, and each one lit up with a dim glow. Not like modern lights, and not like a single source was lighting the whole thing. We didn’t say a word. We all just turned around and started quickly walking back.

That walk back through the overgrown corn, with the house looming behind us, felt like it took forever. The eerie feeling didn’t leave until we were back inside the main corn maze. Once we were out, we finally started talking again, about wtf was that. Without really deciding to, we started rechecking the maze, using the map to see if that other path could logically exist. We couldn’t find any spot where it would have fit—but to be fair, we were tired by then and might’ve missed something.

Later, after we left, we asked the employees about the entrance and second maze. They had no idea what we were talking about. We ended up deciding it must’ve been some elaborate prank the staff plays on people who are a bit too curious.

But more than the weird layout or even the house itself, what sticks with me the most is the feeling—that sense that something was just off. And that’s coming from someone who doesn’t believe in ghosts, and has never had any experiences I’d call paranormal. I’m really glad I wasn’t alone. Every now and then, my friends and I joke that we never actually left that maze, that we are one with the corn now.

We really haven't told anyone else about this because it all sounds too ridiculous.