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The Scarecrow Counts to Twelve
horrorEveryone5 contributors · 5 paragraphs deep
Wren counts the figures. Eleven. Each one matches a family that left. At the bottom of the box is space for a twelfth figure, half carved, with Wren's own face starting to appear in the wood. Wren understands: finish the carving and they're chosen. Snap the box shut and maybe the spell breaks.
Wren snaps the box shut and throws it into the creek behind the field. The half-carved face sinks out of sight. Behind them, the scarecrow slumps on its pole, head down, arm dropping limp. The crows start singing again. When Wren gets home, the eleven empty houses have smoke rising from their chimneys. Everyone is back.
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