Scarecrow Stories Novels & Stories

"On patrol. In the mountains east of here, the storms come down so fast you don't have time to find cover. You barely get any warning before you’re drenched." Cleo's brow furrowed. "Were you scared?" "No.” I paused. “You know what I did when the thunder came?" "What?" "I made up a story. To pass the time until it moved on." She shifted. "Can you tell one now?" Vera turned over, eyes narrowed a little as she rested her chin on her folded arms. “Of course.” I hummed, considering what would be appropriate for a four-year-old. "There was a wolf who lived on the edge of her pack's territory. She was young. Smaller than the others thought she should be, which was their mistake and not hers."

I consoled him and gave him some water. “She locked me up in the store room” “WHAT? IN THE STOOR ROOM? HOW DID YOU COME HERE! Tell me everything.” I questioned. “I was locked inside since morning and when she opened me up, I ran and hid here. She warned me that she’ll lock me again if I told this to anyone.” I stood up and as I went forward Zac held my leg and started to cry. “Please don’t go. I don’t want to get locked please.”

I marked the subtle displeased tone at the end of the other young wolf’s word, marked the fact that even when they’re all just a bunch of ten-year-olds or are barely one, they already know how to speak with sharpness. I flipped my hair behind my back and cleared my throat before speaking. “Very well.” Before they could blink, I knocked the hay dummy with just one punch even with my eyes solely straight on the pups. They all gasped in surprise and took a step backward as if they were afraid they would be next. “The scarecrow is for exercising one's punches, children, not for sparring.” I frowned at the scattered guts, the loads and loads of hay now spread on the floor. “Now I have to clean it

Because this wasn’t just about embellishment. It was about kids trying to turn something that scared them into something they could hold. “No,” I said slowly. “I don’t mind. As long as you know there’s a difference between the story and the truth.” A few confused looks. I sank down onto a cushion, tugging Rowan into my lap when they tried to climb me like a tree. “The story is fun,” I said. “Fire eyes. Ten‑foot wolf. I'm eating Malric in one bite.”

“Story!” I couldn’t help but smile. “You want a story?” I asked, stifling a laugh. The children nodded excitedly. “The wolf story!” one of them exclaimed. “We want to hear the wolf story again!” How could I refuse? The ‘wolf story’ in question was one that I had made up yesterday on the spot, a story about a rogue wolf chasing a little girl. It was a scary story that had made the children gasp, their eyes wide with fear, but they seemed to love it.

Tonight was our first official sleepover in the treehouse, and we'd dragged up sleeping bags, flashlights, and enough snacks to last a week. "Tell me a scary story," Avy said, settling into her sleeping bag. "I don't know any scary stories." "Make one up." "Okay, um..." I pointed my flashlight at my face for dramatic effect. "Once upon a time, there was a girl who read so many books that her eyes fell out." "That's not scary, that's stupid." "Fine. There was a boy who was so bad at football that the football grew teeth and ate him." Avy giggled. "You're terrible at this."

Nora concluded in a silk undertone. Impressed by her good storytelling skills, the kids applauded her as they glued their vote stickers on the voting pad. However, amongst the other kids, some people weren't impressed—Gina Adams and minions. "Oh, PUURLEES. . . This is the lamest scary story in the history of lame scary stories," Gina jeered loudly, her tone wielding the usual amount of obnoxity.

I told them. The all kept looking at me and one said, "let me tell you how we got here, you have said yours". As he was about to started his story, another rats shut him and said," let me tell you the story we came from the same place" another one shut that one again and tried to say his own. None of them allowed the other one to say anything then they started fighting and trembled the cage such that it got the sorcerer's attention again

We started setting up tents and sleeping bags. A little after dark, we began roasting smores, laughing and telling stories. "Okay, I got a good one, the story of the swamp boogey monster." Trent said. "Heard it, it's not scary" Kayla dismissed. "I assure you its a certified scare alright" Trent bragged.

“She never had any reason to tell the story again.” Lady Walter stood on her feet. “Nobody really tells the story of Rogues anymore. It’s too scary for children. Now we tell the pups about your boogeymen to scare them into growing their claws faster.” There was a ridiculing smile on her face as she walked by Kihara and disappeared into the hallway.