Scarecrow Games Novels & Stories

A sixteen-year-old boy worked on his grandfather's horse farm. One morning he drove a pickup truck into town on an errand. While he was walking along main street, he suddenly saw Death: black cloak,hooded,glowing red eyes. Death beckoned him close with a bony finger. Terrified, the boy drove back to the farm as fast as he could and told his grandfather what had happened. 'Lend me the truck,'he begged.'I'll go to the city. He won't find me there!'

My younger sister, Mable Munroe, faked her illness to scam money, and her boyfriend, Kyle, faked being poor and disabled to test true love. No wonder they started dating each other! But outwardly, I quickly suppressed every trace of emotion. I pulled the blanket up to cover myself. My eyes reddened instantly, my voice trembling with sobs and disbelief. "You… We… How can we ever face Mable again?" When Kyle noticed the tears in my eyes—the tears I'd forced out—he froze for a moment, and a look of shame crossed his face.

Zephyra glares at him, her pink lips pouting as her blue eyes shoot daggers from across the table. “Just like in previous games, our actions will be scored by the other 6 Legacies based on a simple point system. The winner at the end of the year gets to plan the game for our next legacy council, keys to the legacy villa in St. Martin, and the 1 million dollar scholarship to whichever university they want. Any questions?” Everyone around the table nods in agreement. Not a single hand is raised to question this decision. I shuffle the cards one last time and set them one by one around the table. Once I’m seated, we all flip our cards.

“One point five million.” A woman in a tailored emerald dress lifted her paddle, calmly but alert. “One point eight.” Another voice followed almost instantly. Then another. “Two million.” “Three.” “Four point two.” The numbers climbed too fast for an object whose history is supposedly almost erased. Within minutes, the price surged past reason. Seven million. I didn’t move. Neither did Vincenzo Romano. The dagger that was meant to be reclaimed quietly for Lola had turned into a competition….because people like to gamble when they think they’ve spotted hidden treasure.

A silly little game, that is all it was supposed to be but it turned to so much more. It was four years ago and I was fourteen. It was my brother's going away party. At sixteen male werewolves go to academy to serve in the military and prepare for their adult roles in the pack. My brother Bo and his best friend Drake were leaving the next day. The adults had already called it a night and the teenagers had somehow ended up in the basement playing truth or dare, typical dumb kid stuff. When it came to Drake's turn, he was challenged to draw a name from a cup and go play seven minutes in heaven with them. He drew my name. I had always had a crush on Drake and this was my chance. He was gorgeous

As long as they did not die, they could just heal their physical injuries. But if their sanity dropped to zero, their real-world brains would suffer damage, leaving them broken, deranged, or even worse. The bosses kept arguing, unwilling to let the players slip away unpunished. But none of them dared risk their lives by breaking the rules. Suddenly, the crow pointed at the figurines in the players' hands. "Wait, those aren't Pop Forge's newest mystery boxes, are they?" the crow asked. "Looks like it," one of the bosses replied.

“Begging won’t help. When we get back to the real world, I’ll beat you to death!” In the horror game, players couldn’t attack other players, or they would suffer backlash. But in the real world, there were no such rules. “Just right, I’m hungry. I’ll try the burrito you made.” Jack grabbed the deluxe burrito and stuffed it into his mouth. But he suddenly bit into something foreign. He spat it out and found a severed finger. Terrified, he immediately threw the burrito away and slapped me several times. “Damn it, who told you to put something like this inside?”

a woman dressed as a nun asked. "That's right. You're dead. Your souls were dragged into this death game." Brad shrugged. "But don't lose hope. If you clear the game, you get to live again." The screaming and shouting stopped. All eyes turned to them, filled with a new sense of hope. "To be resurrected, you need to collect 'Redemption Points.' 9,999 of them, to be exact," Jessica continued. "But here's the catch: the points you get are tied to your fear. The more terrified you are, the fewer points you get."

Well, she's the one holding the most number of bread they have stolen. It was winter and the freezing wind brushed her skin made her hug herself. Hearing the noise of cats and crows in the junkyard of their hideout, gave her goosebumps. She successfully lost the vendor that was chasing them. She looked at the crow at the top of a trash bin, and she felt this bird was staring at her intently. The crow was tilting its head while looking at her. Mizu knew what this bird wanted. She tore a little bit of the bread and gave it to the crow, but just after the crow gulped the piece of bread, she heard footsteps. So she hid immediately and the crow flew away. "Mizu! Mizu!" As she found out that it wa

You don't go of course, you don't go around it, its just you, the command and whatever the command is. So I get up and open the door my dad nearly pounded down and say, "Dad, this is something I don't want any part in. There's us, the 50 that joined us from the last couple slaughters and Lunar Peak. We make up 2,500 werewolves, Lunar Peak make up 1,750 give or take a few on both our sides. But that's it. That is the last of our kind. While we out number them, they could still do severe damage on our end. We know they have that rediculous ceremony event thing tonight, thanks to the scouts, but they are the only other pack that hasn't been beaten in history. We were their allies, are we really