Patrick Denman As "The Scarecrow"

***Crows From the Corn:** The Newest Replacment*

 *“Armed with a rusty pitchfork, The Scarecrow spends his days guarding the fields on hisho Uncle's farm. With empty eyes, he watches for crows and intruders in his field.  If you're moving through the corn, you best watch your back, because you can be sure he's watching and waiting to get you. A loud ‘Hey’ echoes throughout the farm sending a chill through your body. You will look for a way out but will never leave as The Scarecrow awaits. The newest victim to his pitchfork, his newest replacement… Your new life.”*

**Lore:** Patrick Denman loved visiting his uncle's farm. His childhood was filled with many memories of running through grass-filled paddocks and waking to the sounds of the head rooster calling daytime. The road trip his family went on every April was always clearly marked on his calendar. When he was finally old enough, he organised a road trip with a few friends to stay at the farm for a week. Turning the key, he chatted to his friends about the details. He then took off down the roads he knew so well, with the music up and the windows down.

Uncle Dan settled them in perfectly, he greeted everyone in the same patchwork overalls and straw hat like every year. Dinner was served at 6 pm and everyone enjoyed a piping hot bowl of stew, made from freshly picked produce before they headed in to hit the hay. The blankets were far from the nicest and reminded him of lying on a haystack, but it felt like a home away from home and he drifted off to sleep.

The ever-loud crowing of the rooster awoke the farm bright and early. Uncle Dan then assigned different tasks to everyone on the farm. Patrick decided he would harvest the corn as it was his favourite job on the whole farm. He picked the corn and placed it carefully in the woven basket, stacking them neatly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the scarecrow’s lifeless form gazing over the corn and he became aware of the lifeless eyes watching his every move. The thought of the straw-stuffed mannequin made his stomach swirl, the scarecrow was his biggest fear on the farm. The evening came around quickly and soon it was time to go to sleep. Just as he was about to retire for the night, his friends pulled him aside and let him in on a little secret adventure they planned. Adjacent to the cornfield was a corn maze that looked like it went on for miles. His parents never let him near the maze for fear that he would get lost, and now he was older it wasn't of any interest to him. Patrick tried to make excuses, but his friends were having none of it. Dragged by his ear, Patrick and his friends snuck out of the house down to the unlit crop-filled labyrinth.

When the group found themselves at the base of the maze, a flashlight was thrusted into Patrick's hands as they entered. Patrick could hear them laughing and chatting while he trailed slowly behind them. Paranoid, Patrick constantly checked his back to confirm that nothing was following him, there never was. He felt like he had already spent half a lifetime in the maze, before he heard a shady rustling coming from his left. Patrick froze, staring into the darkness of the corn where he heard the sound. His bones felt stiff and as though an earthquake was forming under his feet from how much he was shaking. He attempted to call out to his friends, but the words died on his lips. He turned his head towards  the scarecrow's position in the field. It was still standing as tall as ever, peering over the field like a haunting guardian. When Patrick was able to pull himself together, feeling stupid, he realised he was alone. In his midst of panic, his friends had carried on through the maze, leaving him behind with nothing but a flashlight. He tried retracing his steps but couldn't remember because of how distracted he was from looking over his shoulder. He wanted to scream, but couldn’t for fear of waking his uncle. His next thought was he could use the thing that was haunting him each stay to be his way out. Patrick used The Scarecrow as a guiding landmark out of the maze. Cutting through corn walls, eager to escape, Patrick walked towards his only guide, his greatest terror during his stay here. He was going so fast he tripped over his own feet, tumbling to the ground with a groan. Patrick pushed himself up again and looked for his beacon over the corn. Except it was no longer there.

He couldn't have passed it, he thought. His body swivelled around looking for the straw mannequin when a putrid smell entered his nose, making him gag. A rotten, suffocating stench permeated the air, then he felt a light hand on his shoulder. Grabbing the hand he felt a sense of relief that he had found one of his friends, only to discover that the hand on his shoulder was a straw-filled glove. At the speed of light, he spun and came face to face with The Scarecrow. He let out a scream that sent a murder of crows screeching into the sky. Failing to dislodge the grip on his shoulder, Patrick felt a hot splash of blood wash over him as his stomach was impaled by a rusted pitchfork. The pitchfork was yanked harshly from his body and he flopped to the ground like a ragdoll. Wheezing and coughing up blood, Patrick tried to crawl away until the pitchfork sank into his leg, pinning him to the ground. His throat was wrecked from screaming and his eyes were drooping from blood loss, yet the smell of death was stronger than before. The last conscious memory he would have was his wounds being opened and stuffed with straw as he caught a glimpse of a rotting carcass amongst the hay. The next time Patrick opened his eyes, he was standing tall, guarding his own field of corn, consumed by fog. The newest replacement.