The locals in Oakhaven didn’t call them scarecrows. They called them a truncated name born from a decades-old town stutter.
"Look," one girl whispered, pointing a flashlight. The moss inside wasn't grey anymore. It was pulsed with a faint, wet crimson. srow scare
One October night, a group of teenagers decided to test the legend. They crept into the field to topple one of the Srows. As they reached the center of the cornstalks, the wind died completely. The burlap face of the nearest Srow didn’t have a stitched smile; it had a jagged, open tear where a mouth should be. The locals in Oakhaven didn’t call them scarecrows