Despite it’s jeering, the crow flitted over to rest on the Wooden Man’s shoulder.

Everything went in slow motion. The Scarecrow raised a crackling hand and a thick wall of solid wood jutted from the ground, protecting me from the gun.

“Touch the boy and I will ensure that you burn for eternity in the deepest pits of hell!!!” The Scarecrow boomed with the help of the crow.

Clayton didn’t appear to hear him, I just saw the deranged look plainly screaming in his eyes as they widened in fear at my plywood guardian.

Before I knew it, a wooden spike jutted out of the ground and impaled Clayton in a spatter of scarlet sustenance.

The scarecrow sent me home afterwards and made me forget what happened. All I remembered then was The Wooden Man saying how traumatizing of an event it was….

So, I didn’t remember anything until I saw Clayton’s limp and bloody corpse hanging up in the cornfield up on a post. The look of fear and surprise glazed over in his eyes is what I will remember. He was the new scarecrow