Two boys crept into a farmer’s field as the full moon glowed through the dark, velvet sky.
“Over here,” said Liam, “I’m next to the scarecrow.”
He had found a ginormous, orange pumpkin. Perfect for Halloween.
“Wow,” said Asher, “It’s huge.”
“Here, pass me your knife so I can cut the vine,” said Liam.
But Asher didn’t hear him, he was staring at the scarecrow with his stitched eyes and mouth and hands like branches.
“Liam, get away from there.”
“Are you crazy,” said Liam. “This is mine.”
But Asher didn’t move. The scarecrow’s eyes had blinked open and the stitching around the mouth unwound. The lips curled into a grin as one arm pulled away from the stake.
“Liam, it’s moving.”
Liam looked at Asher’s bloodless face, then looked at the scarecrow as the snapping of rope freed his other arm.
As the boys ran across the field, a thick mist swallowed them.
“Which way,” shouted Liam.
“I don’t know. I can’t see anything,” said Asher.
“Where are you?” cried Liam.
There was no response. All he could hear was the wind moving across the land. Liam ran and kept stumbling into the deep furrows where the farmer had been ploughing.
“Asher, where are you?”
Before the mist thickened into a dense fog, he saw the stake where the scarecrow had been. Only the rope remained. Liam shook and trembled with fear. Where had it gone?
The fog swallowed everything. Liam shivered as icy, vapourised droplets dripped down his neck.
Then he saw a shape through the fog and ran towards it. It was another scarecrow. Impossible. There had only been one before. He moved closer. The face familiar, the clothes like Asher’s. Then something touched his shoulder and he turned slowly.
Before he had time to scream, two branches covered his mouth.
The next morning the farmer was shocked to find three scarecrows surrounding his prized pumpkin. He took his knife, ready to cut the vine.
“This is perfect for Halloween,” he said.
As he started cutting, something touched his shoulder.