My name is Lewis Anderson, and you have no idea how cautious I am. Even though I'm seventeen-years-old, I've made it a point to avoid all the "fun" that every other teenager indulges themselves with. No drugs, no drinking and yes, no sex. Call me old fashioned or paranoid or whatever, I just like to stay as far away from trouble as humanly possible. But sometimes trouble likes to hide in the most inconspicuous of places. I'm not sure if what's been happening to me is real or not. I might just be insane for all I know and only imagining all of this. Either way, I just need to get this story out there. Maybe, if I am crazy, this might provide some clues to the source of it all. But, if this thing is real and actually after me, then at least someone will know what happened. That's enough beating around the bush, I guess. I should start from where I think the beginning was.
I only live about a mile away from my high school, so I usually just walk to and from it. It was the first of October and as I was walking home I stopped by Mr. Stewart's farm to say hello and maybe get some corn from him, since he always seems eager to hand out an ear or two. I spotted him not too deep into his cornfield and called to him. He looked at me, gave a friendly smile, then gestured from me to come over. When I walked over, he asked me the usual questions: How my day was, how where my parents, and so on. After talking for a bit, we walked out of the filed and he handed me two ears of corn, which I happily accepted. As I was putting them into my bag, my eye caught a glimpse of something. I looked up and scanned the cornfield till I saw something odd sticking out of the top of it. I squinted my eyes a bit, trying to make it out since it seemed pretty far out there. It looked like a scarecrow, but something about just felt so out of place. It was completely black, and detail was really difficult to make out from that distance. It just looked like a silhouette to me. As I focused on it a bit more, I could make out what i swore looked like sickle blades sticking out where hands would be. I've never seen any scarecrows in Mr. Stewart's fields before. I don't really know how long I was staring at that thing, but I nearly jumped out of my skin when Mr. Stewart tapped me on the shoulder. I thanked him for the corn and hurried back to the road. I took one last looked back, trying to see that scarecrow again, but the field was too far away to see anything in it. I just turned around and quickly walked back home. The thought of asking Mr. Stewart about the scarecrow didn't even hit me till I got there.
I couldn't sleep that night. I laid in bed for a couple hours just turning constantly till i finally gave up and got on my computer. It must have been about two in the morning when I first heard it. A scrapping sound on my window. To this day, I wonder if things would have been different if I hadn't opened those damned curtains. I slowly walked over to the window, the scratching sounding more drawn out as I drew closer. Just as I grabbed the blinds, the noise stopped. I froze, staring at the curtains in a fear induced stupor. I stood there for what felt like hours, the constant ticking of my clock was the only noise to fill my ears. The dreadful stillness was finally broken when a long, slow scratch ran all the way from the top of the window all the way to the bottom. I snapped and finally threw the curtains open. I stared out the window, cold sweat pouring down my face. To my surprise, there were no marks on the window. The glass was completely untouched. I blinked a few times, not sure if I was dreaming or my mind was playing tricks due to the lack of sleep. I shook my head and closed the curtains. However, just as I did, I swear to this day that I saw that damned scarecrow figure standing in my yard. I threw the blinds open again, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Shaking, I just pulled the curtains too again and laid down on my bed, praying I wouldn't hear that scratching again. God must have been out of the office at that moment.
The following day was a mess. My time in school was awful, due to me not sleeping at all the previous night. But, I'd prefer a bad day at school over that morning's trip to it anytime. After walking out of my house, I had the brilliant idea to walk around and look at the outside of my window. I stood there,...staring at the scratches in the window. There was no way those could be there! There were no scratches when I looked at my window last night, and there's no way they could have been made after because I was awake the entire night! I stared at the marks till I realized something. The scratches made up a shape. It was crude, like something a preschooler would draw. But, it looked so much like that scarecrow. The moment I realized it, I turned around and ran like hell to Mr. Stewart's farm. I thought that if anyone could possibly explain this, it would be him. I ran down the dirt path, spotting him walking out of his house and towards the field. I explained everything to him. About the scarecrow in his field, what happened last night, and the markings on my window. He just stared at me. Not that "Are you crazy" stare. But a stare filled with absolute fear. He then glanced over my shoulder, and I instantly spun around to look behind me. I stared straight at the spot where I first saw the shape of that scarecrow...and there was nothing. I saw nothing but a dull and dying cornfield. I turned back around to Mr. Stewart, but he was already back at the door of his house, shutting it while staring at me.
After school, I walked straight home with a plan in mind. I had thought about it all day. What if Mr. Stewart was behind this? He's never shown any sign of psychological illness. But, years ago, his wife and young daughter were murdered, and he's just lived his life alone to this day. I'm fairly certain something like that would mess anyone up. I felt bad for suspecting him. But, it was the only logical explanation I had at this point. Once at home, I took our dog China and moved her right under my window. She was a fully grown rottweiler who hated strangers with a flaming passion. A dog like her should deter whoever...or whatever from trying to get anywhere near my window.
That night, I was so sure that China would do her job that I was actually able to lay down and instantly fall asleep. The following hours went mostly well. I only woke up a few times, hearing China growling for a bit then stopping. Each time I had to reassure myself that it was probably just the squirrels in our yard. And even if it was someone, they'd have to be pretty stupid to get anywhere near that dog. I woke up the next morning and walked over to my window and opened the curtains. Through the scratches...I could see China... hung by her hind legs from the tree in our yard. I yelled at the top of my lungs and ran out of the house, followed by my startled parents, who were confused till they saw China. She hung there, upside down. I saw that the top of her head was missing and I turned and puked when I noticed her empty skull. I looked up, to see my window and that fucking shape carved into it.
I didn't go to school that day. I was too shaken up for it. The police were called, and I told them everything and showed them the image on my window. I told them about Mr. Stewart, and how odd he was acting when I approached him the other day. Even though I was still clinging onto the idea that Mr. Stewart was the culprit, the idea that an old man such as him overpowering a large dog like China was just so ridiculous. I sat in my room for the remainder of the day, mostly just searching the web for anything that could provide another possible explanation to what's been happening. I found various pages and stories about haunted objects and dolls. But, they never involved death. At least not the ones that were plausible.
I must have passed out at my computer at some point, because I woke up at two int he morning again. I quickly sat up in my chair and looked directly at my window. I listen carefully, the ticking of my clock being the only thing I heard. I slowly stood up and walked towards the window, grabbing the curtains tightly. I prayed. I prayed to every god I've ever heard of to not let me see what I was afraid to see on the other side of my window. I reluctantly pulled the curtains apart just enough for me to peek through them. My blood ran ice cold as I saw the vague, black shape of that scarecrow. It was silhouetted by the streetlight behind it. It just stood out in our yard, propped up on it's post. It's arms were stretched out, a blade sticking out of each. I just stared at the damned thing, half expecting it to jump off its post and charge towards me. But the figure remained static. The window was slightly fogged as my heavy yet shaky breaths hit the glass. I didn't want to take my eyes off of it out of fear that it would move, and I was too afraid to keep looking at it for the same reason. I must have stood there for hours, because I jumped and yelled when my alarm clock suddenly went off. In my shock, I had accidentally let go of the curtains. I grabbed them again and pulled them fully open, to see nothing but the scratches on my window.
As I was sluggishly preparing for school, when the police knocked on our door. My heart sank when they told me what happened. Mr. Stewart was dead. They found him just like we found China. Strung up from a tree...with his head cut open and his brain missing. I must have been as pale as snow. My mind was screaming for an answer at this point. If it wasn't Mr. Stewart, then who? Maybe that scarecrow really was possessed. But almost all the stories I read about possessed objects involved the entity inside the object just wanting to posses a human. Not kill them.
A curfew was issued for the town, and two officers were stationed in our front yard for that night. My parents and I decided to all sleep in the living room. I had barricaded my bedroom's window with my dresser. I knew now that that thing could actually break into our house, since it was able to break into Mr. Stewart's home. I laid on the couch while my parents laid on an air mattress on the floor. We all watched TV till my parents fell asleep. I, however, didn't want to sleep. I laid there, half awake and staring at the screen. The last thing I remember seeing was some paid programming that was playing.
I was awakened by something warm dripping on my hand. I slowly opened my eyes...to see my parents hanging upside down from the ceiling...with their skulls sliced open. My heart pounded against my chest like a jackhammer and I screamed. My mind couldn't quite process what I was seeing. My parents were dead and mutilated right in front of me! I reached under the couch and grabbed the gun that my dad hid there earlier. I stood there for a moment and stared at my parents' bodies, tears streaming down my face. I turned and dashed over to the door. This bastard, whatever it was, was going to pay!
I burst through the door, to see the two officers dead. They were hanging from the same tree that China was hanging from. As I looked over, their car suddenly burst into flames. I shielded my face as a wave of heat hit me. As I lowered my hand, I could see it. It stood silhouetted in front of the flames. I shakily raised the gun and aimed it at the nightmare. I glared at it and yelled, "Go to hell!" before firing off three shots at it. I stared dumbfounded at the shape. I didn't hear a single shot connect with anything. Not the burning car nor the thing itself. And I was positive I was aiming straight at the scarecrow. I snapped to my senses and began firing again. I kept firing right at that monster till the gun's clip was empty. I the dropped the gun to the ground. It still just stood there, motionless. I stared at it in horror, expecting it to now kill me. However, it remained still as ever. Tears filled my eyes and I yelled, "What do you want?!" My vision quickly darkened to where all I could see was the light illuminating from the burning car, and the black shape of the scarecrow. As I began to fell my legs give out, the police car exploded. The shockwave from it threw me back into the house. I hit the floor hard and collapsed.
So, now we come to today. I'm currently sitting in a coffee shop, typing this up on my laptop. I'm currently wanted for the deaths of Alexander Stewart, my parents: Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, and two Greyhill City police officers. I don't know whether or not I actually did kill them. I truly do believe that that scarecrow was no ordinary scarecrow. But, isn't that something an insane person would think? Every night I've wondered if I should just turn myself in. Do I actually deserve this? Or, is the one who's really something much darker? So many thoughts flood my mind all night, till around two in the morning... when I start to hear that scratching again.