Creepy - Day 6 - Scarecrow Island & Cornfield Carnival

Episode Date: October 6, 2025

Scarecrow Island***Written by: Cyndi Gradel and Narrated by: Heather Thomas***Cornfield Carnival***https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/***Support the show at patreon.com/creepypod***Sound design by: Pacific Obadiah***Title music by: Alex Aldea Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Good morning, everyone. We have some new patients this week I'd like to introduce. If you see them sleepily wandering the halls, please say hello to Melissa Leitner, Danosaurus Rex and the Gucci Gear Bear Bear, Mighty Mouse, Luke Horn, John Mooth, Radis Radis, Etcassium, Alicia Scott, Richard Scanlan, Velvet Jones, and Jessica D. As these patients found their way to the Institute through patreon.com slash creepypod,

they are eligible for some extra perks during their stay. To find out more, please visit patreon.com slash creepypod. Creepy Presents The 31 Days of Horror. Day 6. This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepypastas and urban legends in the world. Whether these stories truly happened or are simply fabrications is for you to decide.

These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. Good afternoon, everyone. As always, it's a pleasure to see you all together. How is everyone feeling? Yeah, you know, better than worse. Oh, just peachy. I love not sleeping. I hear you. And I would like to thank those of you that I was able to speak with over the last few days. I will be doing my best to get around to the rest of you as soon as possible. Are you any closer to figuring out what's going on with all of us? Again, I hear you And all I can say is that these things take some time

And until we can get a better understanding Of what each of you is going through It's just too early to say anything with any specificity Sounds like something John would say When he had no idea what he was doing You mentioned him before He's your boss, correct? Yeah, I mean, sort of

It's really just a side gig but for some reason he does seem to be really good at taking up a lot of our lives with his bullshit. I'm sorry to hear that. He sounds like a difficult person to work with. Well, yes and no. I mean, yeah, he's put us in situations where I, for one, wasn't entirely sure if we were going to make it out alive, but... I'm sorry, are you saying that this person, John, has intentionally done things to put your lives in jeopardy?

I don't think any of it was intentional. I see. And have any of you spoken to the authorities about him? What? No. Should we? Let's dig into this a little. Has there ever been a time following an interaction with John

that you all had trouble sleeping or had your dreams impacted by his actions? Yeah. A good possibility. Interesting. And would you say that when you haven't had direct contact with John, that your sleep patterns and dreams have been more consistent? No, nothing like that. It's not like you're some kind of dream demon messing with our sleep. Is he? No, I don't think you need to concern yourselves in that regard. I'm simply trying to have. help understand the consistent stressors that you all might be feeling in your personal and

professional lives. We aren't here looking for ghosts. Aw, real snakes. That would have been fun. Interesting. I think this is something we should return to in our group sessions. Meanwhile, would anyone like to share the dream from last night? I would. It was about a place called

Scarecrow Island The Scarecrow Island tradition started when I was in seventh grade. My friends and I had outgrown trick-or-treating and we wanted to make Halloween more fun. We grew up together in Chestnut Park and we were all raised fishing and camping along the Fox River.

We made up a game where one person would set up a bunch of scarecrow's on the island and everyone else in the group would split up and look for them. I had an advantage because the island was right across the river from my house, and I spent a lot of time playing there as a kid. The island was actually a peninsula in the river that looked like an island from the other side. It was overgrown with tall grasses, shrubs, and small trees.

The ground was mushy and hard to navigate, but we'd managed to carve out a few paths and open spots over the years. I won the scarecrow hunt two years in a row, and I was looking forward to keeping my street going for our senior year. It was our last time playing the game before we all went our separate ways for college. My boyfriend, Mike, came over after school the day before Halloween. It was his turn to hide the scarecrows.

We used the ones they sell at Walmart that are flat and friendly looking. They all had happy burlap faces with button eyes and felt hats with fake straw underneath. We added clothes and other decorations. over the years, so they each had a different look. We named one Jack, and gave him a workshirt with a name patch on the front. The scarecrows were attached to bamboo poles that were easy to sink into the ground, and easy to pull up and carry around.

Mike used our rowboat to cross over to the island with the scarecrows. The river wasn't that wide where I lived, only about 70 feet. The current could be strong at times, but I've been able to row across easily since. I was a kid. The only time it was dangerous was when something floated downstream, like tree branches or other debris. I once had to get 20 stitches from a broken branch that slammed into me while I was swimming out to retrieve a frisbee.

It was usually calm, and that's why my parents didn't worry when we were on the water. I was a good swimmer, and I was always careful. I watched Mike grab the bundle of scarecrows and, you know, and I watched Mike grab the bundle of scarecrow's and disappear into the tall grass. The foliage looked so thick from my side of the river, it seemed impossible that it could be navigated with only the small flashlights that we used during the game. I went inside and texted the group to confirm the meetup time.

The rest of the group included my best friend, Allie, and her boyfriend, Steve, and Lucy and Shelley. They were that annoying couple that always fights, breaks up, and then makes up again. We all managed to stay close. close over the years, and I was very sad that it was going to be our last time playing the Scarecrow game. Halloween night was clear, and the weather was warm for the season.

I was dressed as the doll, Annabelle. I wore a blonde wig that was two braids with bows in it. I found an old white dress at the thrift store that had puffy sleeves and looked similar to the one in the movie. I added leggings and an old pair of Nikes, so I could get through all the shrubs on the island. without getting scratched up. Mike pulled up in his truck just as my mom and dad were leaving for a movie date.

He was wearing a Freddie Kruger sweater and a dirty brown hat. My mom reminded me one last time to be careful. Ali and Steve pulled up a few minutes later. He was dressed as ghost face and she was dressed as Jason Forhees. Ali was tall and the costume looked great on her.

She even had a plastic machete with fake blood spray painted on the blade. How are you guys going to search in those masks? I said. Can you even see? Ali laughed and adjusted the hockey mask on her face. She assured me that they were the perfect slasher couple. She held the machete up to the knife Steve was holding

and they pretended to fight. Lucy and Shelley showed up a few minutes later. They were always the last ones to arrive and always had some lame excuse. We all knew it was because they had been fighting. Shelly was dressed as a clown, but even through all the colorful makeup on her face, I could tell she was angry.

She stomped away from Lucy's car and stood next to me and Allie. Let's get across? Before I kill her, she said. Mike took me, Allie, and Shelly across the river first before going back for the others. I looked back from the island to my head. house. My mom had left a light on in the living room, but the rest of the house was dark. Our neighbor's house was dark, too, with only the yellow glow of the porch illuminating their

back stairs. Moonlight reflected off the surface of the river, and I could see the places where the current was stronger. Splashing sounds came from downstream where several rock formations divided the river. That was the only part of the river that I was afraid of, because the current could pull you right into one of those rocks if you got too close. We gathered at the small dock on the island where there was a battery-powered tiki torch staked into the ground. We stood in a circle, and Mike held out a plastic tote. Hand him over, he said.

I pleaded with him that I promised my mom, but he pointed at the tote and reminded us of the rules. We reluctantly put our phones into the tote, and were left with only small flashlights to help us see. Mike put the tote next to a folding camp chair on the dock, and he sat down after wishing us luck. I looked at my watch, and it was just coming up on nine o'clock. The game was usually over in less than an hour, which was good, because it wouldn't be much fun to go longer than that. The group broke apart, and I went to the left while the other spread out to the right. The land in my direction had heavier vegetation. I figured Mike probably hid some of the

scarecrow's in that section because it would be harder for us to find them. Lucy and Shelley were arguing in the distance, which meant that they were not going to be competition for me. Allie called out to me once to wish me luck, but then went quiet. I pushed through a wall of buckthorn and my sleeve got caught in the spiky branches. It took me a second to untangle myself. And that's when I noticed the first scarecrow. It was right next to an open space where the grass had been tamped down by someone walking on it. I grabbed the bamboo stake out of the ground and tucked the scarecrow under my arm. I thought about yelling out to the group that I had already found my first one. But it felt like they were all so far away already and probably wouldn't hear me.

I kept going in the same direction and eventually made it to the tip of the peninsula. A house across the river was having a party. String lights in a glowing fire pit lit up the backyard. Music floated over to me along with the sounds of laughter and dogs barking. The river separating us looked dark and cold. I felt a bit of jealousy and wanted to get back to my friends. The game felt off that night, and I was. I was already over it.

I started walking back in the other direction, and the party sounds behind me faded away. I could barely see my feet with the small amount of light that my flashlight was giving. Some of the grasses and trees had already gone dormant for winter, but there were other plants and shrubs that were still full and leafy. I passed through another cluster of buckthorn, and this time I was careful not to get tangled in the branches.

I spotted another scarecrow ahead of me. It had been less than ten minutes, and I was already going to have my second one. The scarecrow's back was facing me. It was dangling off of the stake as if it was trying to climb down. I reached up to pull the stake out of the ground, and the scarecrow turned its head all the way around towards me. I shriek so loud that my ears were ringing.

I dropped my flashlight, and it bounced away. from me in a pile of twigs. The scarecrow wriggled off the stake and jumped down. It looked around and then took off running into the darkness. Not fucking funny, Michael! I shouted into the shadows. He pulled something similar last year, and I couldn't believe I fell for it again. It looks so much like one of our scarecrow's,

smaller than a real person and a flat head. I had no idea how Mike did it, but I had to admit he got me. I found my flashlight and stood up. I waited a few minutes to catch my breath. Something moved in the grass behind me, and I pointed my light towards the sound. There was movement on the ground, but I couldn't tell what it was.

Mike had run the other direction, so I knew it wasn't him. Who is? Is that? I moved closer and my foot landed on something hard. I aimed my light down at my feet and saw a white hockey mask, like the one Allie was wearing. It was broken and pressed into the dirt. Allie? There was someone leaning over a shape on the ground. I shined my flashlight, and a man turned his face towards me. I screamed and moved back until I was pressed against a small tree. The man was wearing a torn-up plaid shirt, and he had a hideous mask on his face.

It wasn't Mike or anyone else from our group. This guy was way bigger than any of my friends. Who are you? I shined the light at him again. He growled like a feral cat in a stream of something dark oozed out of the side of his mouth. His face was gray and slimy. with chunks of straw jammed into the top of his head. There were two black orbs where his eyes should have been. It was more grotesque than any Halloween costume my friends would wear. His clothing was stained with what looked like blood. I aimed my flashlight towards the ground behind him,

and my body froze. The remains of Allie's costume were crumpled on top of an unrued, recognizable body. Gaping wounds on her cheeks looked as if something had taken bites out of her. Her nose was gone, and the rest of her body was a shredded mess. I didn't want to believe it was her. I thought there must be some other kids on the island, and they were pranking us with these disgusting costumes. I yelled at the man that this was really messed up, and then I called out the names of my friends. The man just stared at me while I waited for a response.

I heard nothing but the sound of the river in the distance. The man stood up. He was huge. I turned and ran without thinking. I wasn't on a path which made everything more difficult, but I knew I had to move fast. Branches snapped behind me. Whoever was chasing me was very close.

I screamed for Mike as loud as I could, but he still didn't answer. Where was everyone? How could all of them be so far away that they couldn't hear me? I had to get to the dock and hope that my phone was still there so I could call for help. I thought about Allie, and my stomach turned. The footsteps behind me went quiet. I ran for another minute just to be sure, then stopped to catch my breath. My lungs ached from breathing so hard.

I put my hand up against my chest and felt my heart thump against my palm. I tried to calm down, but only started to panic more when I pictured Allie's body. I looked around to try to figure out where exactly I was on the island. I knew the land so well, but I felt confused, and that made me panic even more. I listened for the sound of the river so I would know what. which direction I was looking. I heard the flow of water and felt a huge relief. I just had to figure out how far away I was from the dock. I took a few steps to my right, and then stopped. I wasn't alone. There was a shadow about ten feet from me, and it was standing perfectly still. Hello? The thing

didn't move. So I shine my light. It was one of our scarecrow's, still attached to the post. I let out the breath that I'd been holding in and moved closer. The idea of winning the game seemed so stupid now. All I wanted to do was find my friends. The scarecrow had buttoned eyes and a felt hat. It wore a striped shirt and had a bandana tied around its neck. It looked normal. Except, there was something at the end of its sleeve. A few bits of straw stuck out from the cuff where the person's hand would be. There was something snarled between the honey-colored pieces of straw, and I pulled it away. It was a ghost face mask, just like the one Steve had been wearing.

I threw it on the ground as if it were poisonous and looked up at the scarecrow. The eyes were just simple buttons on top of burlap, and I felt like it was staring right at me. I called out for Steve and then Mike, but got nothing back but the sound of leaves and grass, rustling in the night frays. The scarecrow's torso twitched once, then again a little more noticeably.

I stepped back, not taking my eyes off of it. It made a note, as if it was taking a deep breath in, and then it leapt off the post and ripped the burlap off its face. I'm sure I must have screamed, but everything became a blur after that. I ran without thinking, with no idea what direction I was heading. My muscles ached, but I pushed my legs as hard as I could.

I heard sounds of music and people talking. It was coming from the neighbors who were having the party. Maybe I could call out to them and get their attention. I ran faster, ignoring the branches that were scratching up my face. The beam from my flashlight bounced in my hand, only illuminating a few feet ahead of me. I ran through another thick wall of shrubs and into an open space. Something big stood silent in the middle,

and I shined my flashlight towards it with a shaky hand. Another scarecrow was staked to. the ground. It was leaning to the left, and the body looked like it was slumped over and pulling at the ropes that bound it to the wooden post. The beam coming from my light cast a yellow glow on the jeans the scarecrow was wearing. I moved the light higher and stopped on the red and green sweater. I was frozen. I couldn't allow what I was seeing to be true. An old brown hat was on top of the scarecrow's but it was leaning forward all the way to his chest. So I couldn't see his face.

Mike? I didn't recognize my voice. My whole body began to shake, and I had to hold the flashlight with both hands to keep from dropping it. My teeth clacked together loudly. I prayed for it not to be him. I looked all around, but there was no one else except us. I crept closer until I was right in front of it.

I reached up and clasped the hat. My hand shook so hard that I could hardly get a grip. I pulled the hat away and forced myself to look. My screen was so loud that I swear I heard creatures scatter away from us into the darkness. It was, Mike. But it wasn't him anymore. He had no old. eyes. Something had violently emptied out the sockets and left bloody holes with stringy pieces

dripping down his face. There were bites in his chest, just like the ones that Ali had. There were no animals that vicious around here. The only things that lived on the island were snakes and birds, and none of them were dangerous. I couldn't think of anything that would do something like that. Only a monster could be so cruel. I didn't realize that I had been running until my movement stopped abruptly. I had slammed into something hard that knocked me back into a pile of dried branches. My flashlight spun around a few times and came to a stop at the foot of someone huge. A halo of light glowed at the feet of another scarecrow.

It was the one we called Jack. His blue work shirt was filled out as if a grown man was wearing it. There was no more straw stuffing filling up his chest. It was a real-life person, and it was way bigger than all the other scarecrow's. We stood about four feet apart. Jack towered over me. His enormous silhouette stood out against the river and the house behind him. I tried to speak, but nothing came out except a quiet whisper.

Jack's head tilted to the right so slightly that it seemed too elegant for such a menacing figure. It looked as if he was trying to decide if he recognized me. I slowly stood on wobbly legs, keeping my eyes on the thing in front of me. Look, whatever prank you're playing, it's over, okay? My friends are hurt. I need to get some help. Please, I... My voice broke into sobbing.

I knew that whoever it was behind the mask, they weren't listening. His boots made noisy suctioning sounds in the wet ground when he stepped towards me. I heard two steps. Then a third. And then I turned and ran. Branches tore away what was left of my costume and sliced into my skin. I pushed through the throbbing pain and kept going. Jack's steps were heavy behind me.

It sounded like he was uprooting entire patches of land wherever he walked. I couldn't make myself believe that what was happening was real. I pushed away the images of my friends and focused on getting away. I didn't want to think about what Jack would do if he caught me. A burst of energy surged through my limbs. I ran faster, ignoring the wounds from the foliage whipping against my face. I thought about Mike and what he looked at him. looked like when I found him. I thought about my parents. I got angry. I stopped abruptly and then

rushed to my right as quickly as the ground would allow me. There was no path, but I pushed through it with high steps and moving my arms in front of me in a sweeping motion. I must have caught the guy off guard because there was silence behind me. He was still in the spot where I'd made the quick turn. I focused on the circle of yellow light coming from the teaky torch ahead of me. I cried out in relief when I finally made it to the dock. The tote with our phones was tossed on the ground. Empty. I cursed loudly but quickly covered my mouth. I didn't want to draw any of them to the dock. I grabbed the torch and shined it all around the area. There was nothing there but a dark red stain, right at the spot where we had loved Mike when we started the game.

I forced myself not to cry out, and instead I whispered into the darkness that I was going for help, just in case any of my friends were still there. I ripped away the scraps of material that remained of my costume. The wig was long gone. I pushed the torch back into the ground in case any of the others made it back to the dock. I took one last look behind. I took one last look behind. me before running down the dock. Just before I leapt off the edge, a hand reached out of the water and grabbed my ankle. The movement was so quick that it looked like a flash of light instead of a hand. It pulled my ankle hard enough to send me backwards onto the dock.

The air left my lungs, and it took me a second to realize what happened. I looked at the spot where the hand had come from. The water was rippling, and bubbles formed a circle in the dark world. river. A hat broke through the surface. Then a face. It was one of the scarecrow's, but the face was very different. The button eyes were narrowed together in an angry scowl, and the mouth was a jumble of yellow teeth. Its face was slimy and gray, with ribbons of skin hanging off of it. The thing clawed its way onto the dock and let out a watery growl. It lunged towards me and forced me off the side of the dock. I landed sideways in the river and inhaled a mouthful of cold, foamy water. My body swirled around

in a circle before crawling back up to the surface. I spit out the water and coughed until my lungs hurt. Our house seemed impossibly far away. I focused on the light in the window and started. swimming. Every stretch of my arms was painful. I was fighting fear and cold and a powerful current. The light kept moving to my left, which meant that I was moving downstream towards the rocks. My breath quickened, and I tried so hard not to panic. Something brushed against my leg. I paddled in place and talked myself through everything that it could be. Tree limbs, garbage, even a water snake wouldn't be so bad. I prayed that it was anything other than the person who chased me off the dock.

Something touched me again. It was deliberate, like someone was trying to grab onto my leg. I stayed calm and tried to swim away, but a hand clamped down on my calf and pulled me underwater. I kicked with my other leg and connected with whoever was dragging me down. The river wasn't that deep, but I could feel the difference in temperature closer to the bottom. bottom. I kicked again and pulled away. I scrambled to the surface and was immediately swept up in the

swift current. I was being forced straight toward the rocks and was seconds from crashing into them. I braced myself for the impact that I knew I couldn't avoid. My knee hit the first rock and a blinding pain shot through my leg. I tried to hold on, but the surface was slippery and uneven. The current dragged me against the jagged rock. and I could feel it making nasty gashes in my skin. I was finally able to drag myself up onto one of the rocks. I collapsed on my side and coughed up a bunch of water. My lungs ached every time I breathed air.

I rubbed the water and dirt from my eyes and tried to focus. Moonlight illuminated the rocks and the trees that lined the river. There was someone else there with me on the rocks. A dim flashlight next to them was struggling to stay lit. I looked closer, and I realized it was two people holding on to each other. It was Lucy and Shelley. Their bodies were lifeless, and their bones were twisted in directions they shouldn't be. Their arms were intertwined as if they had finally stopped fighting

and clung to each other in their last moments of life. A flash of light moved towards me from upstream. I was almost too tired to lift my head to look. It was the teaky torch. Someone was swimming towards me with it. I had a brief moment of hope that someone else had survived and we were going to make it. That was quickly crushed when I saw who it was.

Jack, or whoever the man was in the costume, was holding the torch and swimming rapidly towards me. I was too tired to move and too weak to fight. I gave up for good when I realized that he wasn't alone. The other nine scarecrows were swimming behind Jack. Their flat bodies bobbed up and down in the water, losing bits of straw and fabric as they moved towards the rocks. When they got closer, I could see that they weren't people wearing costumes.

They were the same flat scarecrowes. that we used every Halloween to play our game. It wasn't possible, but there they were, moving towards me like a synchronized swim team. I fought hard not to pass out. A knot was growing on my forehead from my collision with the rocks. I started drifting into a fog until everything went dark, and all I could hear were footsteps,

and the sound of the river crashing into the rocks. I felt like the world was spinning and I was falling off of a cliff. You know that feeling you get when you dream that you're falling, and you wake up from a dream right before you hit the ground? I kept feeling that over and over, until I felt nothing. I woke up to sunshine and chilly air. It seemed cold, but then I remembered that it was November 4th,

First. Winter was on the way in. Every bit of my body was in pain. When I tried to put my hand up to my head, I realized that I couldn't. I jerked my hand forward and discovered that it was tied to something with a thick rope. My vision finally cleared and my stomach dropped. I was high off the ground, maybe five or six feet. My hands and feet were tied to bamboo poles, the same way we tied the scarecrow's. Bile rose from my stomach and through my throat. I got sick on the ground in front of me

and coughed and spit until my guts were emptied and my throat was raw. I looked around to see if I was still on the island, but all I could see were shrubs and tall grass. I couldn't even hear the river anymore. I was hidden away where no one would find me. I tried to scream, but my voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. There were footsteps around me.

I had to tilt my neck at an awkward angle to see. The scarecrow's had surrounded me, and they were all looking up at me. The one closest to me had streaks of blood. running down his face. His button eyes were gone. He had human eyes that were pushed into his burlap face in an uneven, slimy mess. He stared at me, and I recognized who they belonged to. I'd looked into Mike's eyes so many times, and now his eyes were staring back at me from this creature who couldn't possibly be real. I fought to stay awake.

Another scarecrow moved towards me. It was Jack. He held a machete in his hand, and before I could think, he swung it at my arm. The pain took seconds to sink in, and then it shot through my arm and into my whole body. He removed my severed hand and shoved it into the sleeve of one of the other scarecrow's. The scarecrow tried it out like a new glove, wiggling the fingers in front of his face. My stomach heaved, but there was nothing left to come out.

Jack grabbed a bit of straw from his own chest and squeezed it in his hand. He reached up and shoved the bundle into my sleeve where my hand had been. He jammed it up against the bloody stump until the sleeve was filled. I knew that no one would hear me, but I cried out one last time for my friends. Jack looked around at the other scarecrow's and pointed at one to move forward. The scarecrow approached, and Jack plucked his button eyes from his head and tossed them to the ground. He turned towards me and reached from my face. I screamed until every bit of my breath was gone.

And the world went dark. Thank you for sharing that, Heather. Sure. That's our time for this week. But I'd like everyone to think a bit more about what we talked about. And try to think about any connections between times when your dreams were particularly troubling. Oh, goody. I know.

It's not the most fun thing. But I do think that it is important. Thank you all for your time, and I will be in touch with many of you about scheduling some one-on-one sessions. In the meantime, I think it would be a great idea if you all spoke with our art therapist and found some constructive ways to spend your time here. Have a wonderful day. See you. See you later, Doc.

Catch you on the flippity flip. Yeah, I can hear you. How are you feeling today? Like it should be morning, not afternoon. To hear about your dream last night. Why? Help who exactly? And you think this is going to help me?

Awesome. Then maybe you can explain to me exactly how telling you about the cornfield carnival can help me. They set it up overnight like magic. Or maybe something more malicious. One day it was just rows of cornstall. socks waving lazily in the autumn wind. The next, there was a ferris wheel spinning in the distance, bright lights blinking through the morning fog, music that played even though no one had seen or even heard a single truck arrive.

Now it was the first thing that felt wrong. You don't just build a carnival in one night. I remember standing at the edge of the dirt road, hands in my pockets, looking at the carousel, turning slowly in the distance. The horses looked chipped and old. paint peeling like dried skin. But the lights. God, those lights were perfect.

Flickering and dancing like a living thing. Like they wanted you to look. Like they needed you to look. I should have turned around right then. Should have walked back to my car and driven home. But that's the thing about towns like mine. When something happens, anything, you don't question it.

You just thank the universe for the distraction. Besides, they built a carnival next to Dan Miller's old cornfield. 200 acres and nothing but unharvested corn and scarecrows. Miller died about a month prior, and there was no one left around to harvest it. So they stood there, tall, and waiting to die. It was sad. That field had been around since before I was born. And looking at it, knowing it would probably be the last time I'd see the corn in that field

unless it got bought up soon left a pit in my stomach. So many people had moved away already. But the scarecrowes stayed. Dozens of them. Way more than anyone ever needed. Rigged things with burlap faces, twisted grins, arms outstretched like they were trying to block anyone from entering the area. Even as a kid, I hated those scarecrows. They never looked like they were scaring anything off.

More like they were just loitering, bearing witness to something. By the time the sun went down, the whole town was there. Kids and oversized hoodies, teenagers vaping in line for the tilt-o' whirl, old folks smiling like they hadn't felt alive in years. And in the middle of it all, a carousel spinning just a bit too slow. music playing in a key that felt off, almost like it was slipping note by note into something darker. I wandered between tents, watching faces.

The carnies were strange. I mean, stranger, I guess, than whatever my idea of Carnies was supposed to be. I remember too tall, too thin, eyes that didn't quite focus, sunken deep in their sockets. None of them spoke. They just smiled, grins with missing teeth,

and handed out tickets that looked like they've been printed 40 years ago. Paper looked and felt brittle to the touch, like a strong breeze would turn it to dust. But the weirdest part? The cornfield. It's at just beyond the ring toss in the cheap little haunted house. The stock's moving, but I didn't remember there being any wind. The scarecrowes were closer than I remembered, some right up against the carnival's edge.

Their burlap faces turned towards a crowd. No one else seemed to notice. That's when I saw her, Emily Carter. Local girl, kind of quiet, kind of kid who wore all black even in the summer and got used to sideways glances. But that girl was sharp as broken glass. You could see it if you paid attention. She'd stop into my hardware store for brushes and model paint. She never spoke, but I could tell.

She noticed things. The quiet ones always do. She was standing by the popcorn stand, arms crossed, eyes locked on the cornfield. Like she knew. That night, the first kid went missing. I was on the other side of the carnival when the way of a commotion finally reached me. One of the local teens had gone missing. No one took it seriously at first because teens in our town had the tendency to cause mischief when they got bored.

But his friends swore it wasn't a joke. Some said he wandered off into the field. Others whispered he got on the carousel and never got off. But when they closed the place down for the night, there was one extra scarecrow standing at the edge of the stalks. And it was wearing a hoodie. Next day at the cafe over coffee and Betty's famous pancakes, best time in place to get any sort of gossip. if you ask me.

Word was that it was just a misunderstanding. The missing kid had just run off, probably with a girl, maybe hitchhiked to the next county. His mom stood outside the police station for two hours, shouting that he'd never leave his phone behind, his shoes behind, or his hoodie behind. I didn't say anything. Not even when I walked past the cornfield again and saw that scarecrow wearing the hoodie. standing too close to the edge, arms bent inward and wrapped around to the back like it was hugging itself, like it was cold or afraid.

I noticed Emily was back too. She didn't say a word, just leaned on her bike handles and kept her eyes on the carousel. I think her hands were shaking. I couldn't blame her. One of her classmates had disappeared. And no matter what the local rumors were, I was on the mom's side for no other reason and kids didn't go anywhere without their cell phones anymore. The music was different that day. Slower.

Dragging, like the carousel had aged 100 years overnight. The horses looked more warped, teeth showing under peeling lips. One had a cracked eye that seemed to follow music glided by silently in its eternal circuit. Kids still lined up to ride it. No one else saw it, or they didn't care. But I saw it. I cared. And I think Emily did too.

More people showed up from the surrounding towns, drawn either by the rumors of a kid disappearing or something else. It felt like each day the crowd size practically doubled, where you could just walk right up to a ride on day one. You had to wait in a line at least ten minutes by day three. That wasn't the only number that grew. By the third night, three kids had vanished. Two teens and one younger kid. These two new disappearances weren't from in town. There were no witnesses, no blood, just an abandoned hat here and a shoe there.

For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why there wasn't more concern. The only people who said anything negative about the carnival were the parents of the missing kids. and their pleas always seemed to fall on deaf ears, or they were met with any possible reason other than the kids were actually being taken by someone. I started to feel like I was inside that movie Jaws, the whole town just didn't want to think anything was wrong. There was more money to be had by the increased traffic in town. Each time a kid went missing, I checked the field, and each time, there was another scarecrow. At least, I think so. It was possible that someone had just started to add clothing to him.

One wore flannel shirt with a school patch. Another had a charm bracelet on its burlap wrist. Pancake gossip said it was just some bad joke by the local kids to put similar clothes on the scarecrows. But that never sat well with me. These weren't just the usual old scarecrows. They were all hunched forward slightly. Arms bent at the elbows now.

Not stretching out like the older ones. They were moving Not being moved Moving It wasn't like they were being picked up and replanted closer to the carnival You could see the drag marks like trenches cut at least a foot deep in the soil It'd take a tractor to do that And even that didn't seem possible

And no one said a word I finally worked up the nerve to go into the cornfield It was night The carnival was glowing behind me, distorted music drifting through the air like a lullaby from a dream you wish you could forget. The stalk swallowed me fast, dry, brittle things, whispering against my skin. The air in there was heavy, like soup, and under my boots. I swear the ground pulsed. I didn't walk far.

Didn't need to. I found the scarecrow's gathered in a circle. The new ones, anyway. They were facing inward. Heads bowed like they were praying or listening. And at the center of a mall was a small bare patch of dirt. Nothing planted there, just loose soil and something below it. I had to stand there staring a long time in the dark for my eyes to focus enough,

but I could swear that I saw the earth moving up and down, as if it were breathing slow and deep. like a sleeping animal buried under the crust. I stepped closer. The whisper hit me like a fever. You forget. And we feed. You ignore it.

And it grows. I stumbled back. My eyes spinning around trying to find the source of the sounds. Anywhere other than where I knew it to be coming from. And the scarecrows, they just... They just tilted their heads. Every single one. Toward me.

I ran and burst out of the field like something was chasing me. I didn't dare look back. I made it to my car, shaking so bad and nearly dropped my keys. I drove up the hill that overlooked town and threw my car into park. I just sat there, staring through the windshield, too afraid to get out of the car. At the carnival lights in the distance and wondering how many more would disappear before anyone else noticed. And why?

Would have everyone in town had the field chosen me to hear it? The next day there were five. Scarecrows, I mean. One had a varsity jacket. Another wore a sundress. I didn't know their names. By that point the town was practically choked with tourists. All there to see what would have otherwise been considered to be a little bit.

a pretty shabby carnival. But no one was talking about the kids as missing. Just gone. Just run off. Pulling a prank. Quickly dismissed and the topic changed as sports or how well businesses were doing. The thing is, they were kind of right. I mean, the missing weren't missing anymore.

They were planted. That morning, the carnival opened like nothing had happened. people still filed in with funnel cakes and cheap tickets in their hands, smiling like puppets. The carousel kept turning. The lights kept blinking. The cornfield watched. Emily caught up to me outside the diner. She didn't speak.

She never did. But her eyes said everything. She'd seen it too. The scarecrowes, the whispering rose, the ground that breathed. We didn't need words. We just walked past Main Street, past the old barn, straight into the carnival's backlock, past the games, past the grinning clowns, toward the cornfield where the air smelled like mold and rust. They were waiting for us, the scarecrow's.

At least 30 now, all facing inward, still in that perfect circle. Their heads tilted just slightly to the left, like they were listening for something, or like they were hungry. I didn't know what we'd find in the center again. I have expected to see a sinkhole or a fire or maybe even a mouth in the ground. What I found was worse. It was the carousel horse,

buried up to its chest in the dirt, paint peeling, one cracked glass eye turned skyward, something had dragged it from the ride and planted it there like it belonged. But it wasn't just a horse, The earth beneath it swelled and breathed, bulging in and out like lungs beneath a shroud. I could hear the whisper again, stronger now, not cured on wind but voice, dry and thin,

like someone had sewn their throat shut and forced every word out through stitches. We feed it with forgetting. The scarecrow's leaned in slightly. Emily stood frozen beside me. And then I realized, this wasn't about the carnival. The carnival was bathed. The thing, whatever it was, lived here,

beneath our feet, fed by silence, fed by neglect, by lies we told ourselves to stay sane. Scarecrows weren't warning us. They were guarding it, keeping it sated. Every time we lied,

Every time we ignored them missing, every time we refused to see something below the field grew stronger. And now, it was almost ready to rise. That night, the carousel didn't stop spinning. I turned faster and faster, lights flashing too quickly for the eye to follow. I watched from my car, parked at the edge of town, as the music warped into a long, continuous shriek. No one else heard it. No one else wanted to. They'd already forgotten.

The next day of the carnival was gone, vanished. No tire tracks, no torn tents, just empty fields and 32 scarecrow's. One of them wore Emily's scarf, and none of them tilted their heads anymore. They were standing straight now, facing outward, watching the town. waiting because it's still hungry and we're still lying. We lie about our thoughts, our feelings, our beliefs. We tell ourselves lies to get through the day no matter who they might hurt. But worst of all, we lie about the giant hole in the middle of Carter's Field, at least 50 feet across, like a meteor hit in the middle of the night. At least that's the lie we tell ourselves. Because

doesn't look like something hit the ground. It looks like something dug itself out. Well, did anything about that help me? Exactly how this process works. There most likely isn't any one thing that is going to bring completion, resolution, or closure to this. However, please understand that the sum total of this will be necessary for you to be ready. Ready? I'm sorry? You said for me to be ready.

What's that mean? My apologies. I silly me. Then what did you... I'm sorry. I just got a page about another patient needing my attention. I'm afraid I have to go, but I will be back to talk more as soon as possible. But what if... That was close? Never mind. It won't make any difference.

continue with the process. But what if you... There will be nothing to worry about as long as you do your job. Is that a problem? No, doctor. Good. Message me when it's done.

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