Scarecrow Stories Novels & Stories

Turning, I began to move towards it, unable to quite comprehend what could possibly be making that type of noise this deep in the forest. Moving forward, I came across a field with glowing blue flowers and what looked to be scarecrows. They twisted about lazily in the wind as a few birds began to land on them. Snarling, the scarecrows mouths snapped open as their claw-like hands grabbed the birds eating them in one bite. As they chewed, pieces of the birds could be seen traveling down the scarecrows skeletal throats and past their ribecages before the now-ground-up creatures hit the earth below them.

"Maia, are you really this stupid, or are you just acting? Someone could sell you out, and you'd still be there thanking the person who did it." His tone had shifted. It wasn't playful anymore. A cold chill began to creep up my spine. This wasn't some kinky game. He wasn't joking. "W-What do you want? Why did you tie me up?" "What does it look like? I caught myself a prime piece of meat, and I'm going to get a good price for it." A prime piece of meat. A good price. Suddenly, every horror story I'd ever read about women vanishing in remote areas flashed through my mind.

“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.

And from that little comment, he decided to go one step further and dress up as a scarecrow for Halloween, sitting in a chair by our door, reading his book with a huge bowl of candy on a small table next to him. As Travis had suspected, what scares people can sometimes be the simplest. In this case, all he has to do is suddenly raise his head from his book and say "Happy Halloween!" with his trademark happy eyes, and the neighborhood kids run away screaming. About half an hour and several screams later, Travis walks in carrying his book, his chair, and an empty bowl. "That was fun," he says cheerfully. "For you or them? Because I'm pretty sure the little pink fairy princess will have to chan

They continued to aim at the other small prey until they became fatigued and stopped focusing on their exterior surroundings. In addition to setting up the scarecrows throughout the yard, they make sure they are fully exposed so that all the animals can see them. The two sons went outside and used some string to hang a cradle from the large branches of a tall tree. They swayed happily in the wind until they both fell asleep. They were ignorant that there was a swarm of big, black ravens waiting to eat their victims atop the trees. However, Natalia, who is operating the vehicle while the couple is inside, has already departed, leaving the impression that the two adolescents can be relied upon

Anyway, he kept saying that there are horrible creatures that lurk in the darkness here… While growing up he told me the story of the time when he was ten years old, his dog ran out of his family home—this townhome, the home I’m just about my home until my dad gets out of jail and the social worker says I can go back. He goes on and says that he watched his dog die that night being eaten alive by a wolf-like humanoid that he himself barely made it back home to safety. Then there were these stories of the locals being blood-sucking vampires and all the BS surrounding that subject. Oh and the witches of the forest and the great lake—supposedly they lure pregnant women to their deaths and drown

Willow continued to speak in a hushed tone as she winded through the stacks. “No one really knows. He was basically the boogeyman used by parents to scare kids so they won’t cry over a simple scratch. You know, ‘If you cry over a simple scratch, The Dread will come for you!’” One of the candles on the wall flickered, and a knot formed in Clara’s stomach. She followed Willow around the corner and into an aisle labeled Biographical Histories.

"And I tell them stories." "What kind of stories?" Herb said. This was the part that had gotten him out of bed early on a Saturday morning (his only day off from selling mattresses the rest of the week) to come over here. Willie had mentioned stories when Herb got after him for being late coming home so often. It seemed they made quite an impression on the kid, but when Herb asked what kind of stories they were Willie clammed up. The Brookwood woman shrugged. "You know: ghost stories. The kind children like. Mostly ones my grandmother told me when this was her home. I could tell you one, if you like? So you'll see that they're not so bad."

" Listen, children, I know you came from different villages to learn how to read, but I must warn you. " " There's a real story, about a silver monster, someone said he looks like a wolf, and someone said, he looks like a human." I said completely terrified but I must warn them. " Every day and every night, something bad happens to any villager, there is always someone to die, a guy drained of blood, or a guy dies from animal scratches, big scratches. " " Wow Hazel, what a story you're telling the children. " " Dad! " I stood up when I found my dad behind me, I looked at him and he stared towards the quiet Umera.

I was the girl who poured their drinks, cleaned up their crumbs, stood off to the side with my head low. But I listened. Every night, I listened. And my favorite stories—the ones that sent chills down my spine—were about the rogues. Greywin would say, “They don’t walk like us. They stalk. They don’t breathe like us. They sniff, they growl. And when you hear a branch break in the middle of the forest, child, don’t run… they already know where you are.” I remembered the way the girls would huddle closer, giggling but scared. But I wasn’t giggling. I was barely breathing. I always held my tray tighter and leaned closer to hear more.