Samhain Surprise Pt. 3: A Spooky Halloween Story

Part 3: The Truth Uncovered

The gym fell silent as the group stared at the scarecrow. It stood among the decorations and dancing students, completely out of place yet somehow unnoticed by everyone else. Its burlap face looked almost smug, its button eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“How… how did it get here?” Sam whispered, his voice shaky. “We left it in the hallway.”

Jordan swallowed hard. “I don’t know, but this is getting weird. It has to be someone messing with us.”

But Alex wasn’t so sure anymore. “I don’t think this is a prank, Jordan. This thing moved on its own. We need to get it back to the farm.”

Lisa nodded in agreement, her voice hushed with fear. “It’s like it’s alive. We need to stop this before it gets worse.”

Sam, his hands trembling, pulled out his phone. “We have to figure out how to stop it. There has to be something about the scarecrow’s legend that we missed.”

They huddled together in a corner of the gym, the festive atmosphere around them feeling increasingly distant as they searched through articles and old town records online. The legend of the scarecrow had been passed down for generations, but buried beneath the surface were details they hadn’t heard before.

“It says here that the scarecrow was made by a farmer who disrespected the spirits of the land,” Sam said, his voice tense. “He tried to take more than his fair share from the earth, and the spirits cursed him. He was turned into a scarecrow to protect the land, but if anyone ever tried to remove him from the farm, he’d come after them until they returned him—and made an offering to the spirits.”

Jordan frowned. “An offering? What kind of offering?”

Sam scrolled further. “It says the spirits demand something personal, something valuable to the person who disturbed the scarecrow. It’s supposed to show respect and ask for forgiveness.”

Lisa glanced at the scarecrow, standing eerily still in the gym. “We have to do this,” she said quietly. “We have to take it back and make the offering, or who knows what’ll happen next.”

Alex, now fully convinced that they had crossed a line, nodded. “Let’s do it tonight. Before it gets worse.”

They left the gym quietly, unnoticed by the other students who were caught up in the dance. The air outside was colder than before, and a strange stillness hung over the town. The streetlights flickered as they walked, and the wind seemed to whisper through the trees. None of them spoke as they made their way back to the school, where the scarecrow waited.

They grabbed the scarecrow and hurried back to the old Thompson farm, the weight of their mistake growing heavier with each step. The fields were dark and overgrown, and the wind howled through the trees, sounding almost like laughter.

When they reached the center of the field where the scarecrow had once stood, they paused. The post where it had been hung still stood there, looming in the shadows.

“Now what?” Jordan asked, his voice low.

“We put it back,” Sam said, his hands trembling. “And then we make the offering.”

They placed the scarecrow back on the post, securing it as best they could. But as they did, the wind picked up, swirling around them in a frenzy. The scarecrow seemed to sway in the wind, its button eyes gleaming with a strange light.

“Now the offering,” Lisa said, her voice barely audible over the howling wind.

Each of them pulled out something personal—something that meant something to them. Alex offered his lucky charm, a small trinket he had carried for years. Jordan gave up his prized watch, a gift from his father. Sam offered a bracelet his grandmother had given him before she passed. And Lisa placed a locket on the ground, one that held a picture of her family.

They placed the items at the foot of the scarecrow, the wind still whipping around them. For a moment, nothing happened. The scarecrow remained still, its head tilted down as if watching them.

Then, slowly, the wind began to die down. The eerie whispers faded into the night, and the air grew still once more. The scarecrow no longer seemed menacing. It was just a scarecrow, after all—just straw and cloth.

The group let out a collective sigh of relief. It was over. They had done it.

But as they turned to leave, Sam glanced back one last time. The scarecrow’s head had turned slightly, just enough to watch them as they walked away. His heart skipped a beat, but he said nothing. It was probably just the wind. Probably.

They left the farm behind, the scarecrow standing watch over the fields once more. But the weight of what they had done—and the scarecrow’s final glance—would stay with them for a long, long time.

To be continued …