Once upon a time, there was a boy named Jonah who lived on a secluded farm in the heart of a small town. Jonah was a timid and shy boy who loved nothing more than tending to his crops and animals. However, there was one thing that terrified him more than anything else in the world - an old, beaten-up scarecrow that sat in the middle of his field. The scarecrow's name was Henry, and it seemed to be alive.

Every night, Jonah would hear the creaking of the wooden post that held up Henry, and he would peek out of his window, only to see the scarecrow moving around the property. Jonah knew that no one would believe him if he told them what was happening, so he kept his fears to himself.

Soon, people started going missing from the town, and new scarecrows began popping up all over the place. Jonah knew that Henry was responsible for the disappearances, but he didn't know how to stop him. One day, Jonah decided to take matters into his own hands and investigate.

As Jonah approached the field, he felt a shiver run down his spine. The scarecrow was no longer in its usual spot. Suddenly, he heard a rustling in the bushes behind him. He turned around and found himself face to face with Henry, who was now standing on two legs, towering over him.

Jonah tried to run, but Henry was too fast. The last thing he remembered was Henry's cold, lifeless hand grabbing him and pulling him into the darkness. When the townspeople finally discovered Jonah's body, it had been turned into a scarecrow, just like the others.

From that day on, the townspeople avoided Jonah's farm, knowing that Henry was still out there, waiting to add more victims to his collection. And even though Jonah was gone, the memory of him lingered on, a reminder of the horrors that lurked in the shadows of their small town
© c.wright