Creepy Scarecrow Novels & Stories

This is the husband and wife's sunflower farm, they are sloppy farmers who have lived on this land for a long time, but now when the husband finds out that his wife has been killed and her body is stuffed into the scarecrow, causing her husband to be heartbroken. “On July 6, I went out to the city to trade some sunflower-related products. Products made from sunflowers are purchased at high prices and are completely environmentally friendly; My wife doesn't go out often because of poor health, she just hangs around the house and takes care of the sunflower garden. On July 9th, I returned to the farm late at night but couldn't see her anywhere, so I thought she was out on business. Until the n

I suddenly saw my reflection in his arrogant eyes as nothing but a pitiful, stray mongrel he decided to give his leftover scraps to. Then, without further thought, he shoved me toward the door, meaning to tell me to get a cab back home instead. Just then, Eva suddenly ran over to us. "Mr. Garner! Ms. Castro—" While running toward me, she deliberately "failed" to stop herself and crashed right into me. A split second later, I felt her forcefully push me off the stairs so that I'd tumble all the way down to the ground. I bumped myself into several steps and even scraped and cut myself on them. Finally, I tumbled and landed with a heavy plop into a roadside ditch.

He called out to them but they didn't care to respond. “Camila! Come out!” he called out to his older daughter to come out of the house. A beautiful teenage girl came running out on her father’s voice. “Get them inside. They’re gonna hurt themselves!” Bruno said and stood up to step into the fields. Camila obeyed her father and set out after her sisters. She could see the movement in the field near the scarecrow. Ironically, most of the straws of the scarecrow had found new homes in crow nests around the field. Bruno pledged to repair it every time he saw it but always ended up leaving it for later. The miserable scarecrow, like its owner, longed for a break that never came. Camila and the s

Peacekeeper armor. He wrapped the star-metal wire around the locust limbs, creating jagged, spindly arms. He assembled a nightmare. It looked like a crucified skeleton made of metal and insect parts. "It needs a heart," Leo whispered. He reached into his own chest. Not literally, but metaphysically. He pulled a sphere of golden fire from his core. But he didn't make it pure. He twisted it. He added the memory of the Void he had felt in the Architect’s database. He added the anger of the burning South. He added the cold of the deep ocean. He created a ball of dread. He pushed it into the chest cavity of the Scarecrow. The construct jerked. The skull’s eyes lit up. Not gold. Purple-gold. A br

The monster had become a Cursed Scarecrow, and it possessed the ability to actually curse beings with powerful curses that caused horror, confusion, and could even paralyze. It also could use its sharp wooden claws, infusing mana into them to make them stronger. Additionally, it possessed a talent for gardening and tending the crops, with an ability named [Gardening]. The Scarecrow walked towards Chaos as it spoke. "Ah, my lord, I thank you for giving me the possibility of evolving. I was merely a broom, but now, I can move, I have limbs, and more importantly, I can speak! How wonderful," it said.

“Give him to me.” “No,” Scarecrow said, his voice only wavering a little. Christ, he had to be really confident about that barrier. Either that, or he’d taken a fistful of Xanax before the phone call. “I’m going to throw this through the doorway.” He reached over and picked something up off the examining table: a collar, much like the one Calder had worn in his cell. “You’ll shift back, and you’ll put it on. Or we will kill this one,” he gestured at me, “right here and now.”

Jack, Herne, and Warren didn't move a muscle, when faced with the spectral image of the woman. Traditional buckskin adorned the slender body. She raised her hands above her head, "Well are you going to help? You are members of the Scald Crow aren't you?" Jack and Herne took a step back from the phantom, and pushed Warren forward, "You go, whelp."

A rustle fills the air and I freeze. “Who is it? Show yourself!” I call out. A figure lurches out from behind the stone, brandishing a crooked stick. He looks like a scarecrow, with a face smudged in ashes and his clothes hanging in tatters, clinging to sharp bones. He is hunched over, his spine twisted like a question mark and for a breathless moment, I cannot tell if he is friend or foe. But then he shifts, just a little and the light grazes his cheek.

“Don’t stay up too late. And don’t tell your mother. I think Farm of death was way underrated. Goodnight. Love you squirt.” I giggle at being busted but also Dad keeping my secret. He steals a handful of my popcorn, with Max gobbling up the pieces that fall from his hand. I promise him I won’t stay up all night and I won’t tell Mom. Dad goes to the kitchen and gets himself a bottle of water, before taking Max out to go to the bathroom. Then he makes sure all the windows and doors are locked a final time before turning in for the night. I turn back on Farm Of Death just in time to see a scarecrow come to life and chase a couple through the corn maze with a machete.

The zombie grunted and made a concerted effort to move the soil from the grave in greater quantities, all while sending me little glares from his empty eye sockets—it had less impact without actual eyeballs. “Endora.” I screeched. I may be the most evil of witches in the entire country, but it’s still a dark and quiet cemetery on Halloween. Swinging around on my heeled boots, I scowled at the ground-keeper sneaking up on me like an ancient ghost. The gnarled old man in his late seventies was one of the few humans to be aware of our existence, only because most of my work was done in the very place he managed and he’d seen more than his fair share of hands breaching fresh graves.