“Shhh, I’ve got you. You’re safe,” he whispers.
“I was so scared.”
“I know, but you’ve been so fucking brave. I’m proud of you.” He kisses me, and it’s over too fast. “I need you to be brave a little bit longer. Can you do that?”
If it means he gets rid of the stalker, I can do it. “Okay.”
“I’m not going to leave you for long. Trust me.”
“I already do.”
“Good girl,” he praises, kissing the top of my head. “Stay hidden.”
I hate that he’s leaving me alone, but now that Rex is here, I don’t feel as desperate or afraid. Staying in place becomes problematic after several minutes. I’m freezing, and it’s way too quiet.
I haven’t heard the stalker or Rex.
If they had found one another, I know they would have been fighting or yelling. This silence is unnerving.
I can’t stay here. I’m too cold. It’s not my intention to disobey Rex, but I have to get some circulation in my body, or I’m going to have frostbite.
I’m not walking for long when I pop through a row of stalks and end up in an open circle. There’s a geometric pattern on the ground. It’s an artful press of the crops in this area that’s probably used for irrigation, and was at some point. It’s fascinating to stare at the intricacy of the design. It’s almost alien.
There’s a slight shuffle in the wind that sounds like a rustle of clothing. My head snaps up, and I’m suddenly staring at a scarecrow. The weird and terrifying part? He’s not attached to a pole.
The figure stands at a monstrous height, facing me, his otherworldly gaze focused on my position. I’ve seen the scarecrows around Raven’s Crest for years, and they all have a haunting quality about them. I swear they’ve always been watching, and now, with equal parts horror and intrigue, I know it’s true.
He’s menacing with broad shoulders that remind me of Rex. His body towers over the top of the cornstalks, and I swear he’s deciding what to do next. In his gloved hand, he holds a giant ax.
It’s just like Rex’s ax except this one. . . hums.
I must be crazy. It’s not making any sense.
Maybe I’ve collapsed, and this is all a dream. I’ve got to be hallucinating. Scarecrows aren’talive. Right?
“There you are.”
It’s the stalker. I can’t tell who the bigger threat is right now. The hunching form of the scarecrow as he unleashes an inhuman growl, or the guy who’s been terrorizing me for weeks. They’re both intimidating.
The scarecrow solves the issue for me. He suddenly runs toward me, and I drop to the ground, covering my head in an attempt to protect myself from harm. He doesn’t touch me.
I watch in awe as he leaps over my head and lands with a hard thud on the ground. Monstrous, barbaric sounds fill the air that don’t seem possible for him to make.
The scarecrow doesn’t pause. He launches into an attack, choosing the man in front of him as prey. My jaw drops as I see him flip the ax in his hand around like it weighs nothing, almost showing off as he approaches the man he’s after.
The stalker freezes as he stares with wide eyes. He lifts his rifle and fires several bullets. They all pass through the scarecrow, and one slams into the cornstalk above my head.
I blink as I realize how close it came to taking my life.
There’s a roar of outrage before the ax swings through the air. I know I should look away. My whole body knows I’m about to witness carnage, but I can’t seem to do it.
Blood spurts from the stalker’s neck as the ax slices through the bones and tissue like a knife through soft butter. It splatters the cold ground and the scarecrow. The dark red blood spills from the headless shoulders as the body hits the dirt.
I swallow back bile as I push to my feet. I’m not sorry the stalker is dead, but I’m still too scared to be close to the scarecrow. He must sense that feeling because he moves slowly, wiping off the edge of the ax and removing the blood.
I stay in place as he approaches. He drops to one knee in front of me, and the oddest sensation rolls through me. It’s almost like I’m staring at the straw replica of Rex.
That isn’t possible.
