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    The Scarecrow: Spine-Tinglers, #1
    The Scarecrow: Spine-Tinglers, #1
    The Scarecrow: Spine-Tinglers, #1
    Ebook67 pages56 minutes

    The Scarecrow: Spine-Tinglers, #1

    By Jack O'Donnell

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Hideous monsters borne of the blood of the Civil War follow the commands of a demonic scarecrow bent on preserving the sanctity of her crop.

    Beware what grows in the corn!

    The first short story in the chilling new Spine-Tinglers™ horror series from Jack O'Donnell - creator of the Land of Fright™ series!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherODONNELL BOOKS
    Release dateOct 8, 2016
    ISBN9781533713582
    The Scarecrow: Spine-Tinglers, #1

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      Book preview

      The Scarecrow - Jack O'Donnell

      spine-tingers_cover_2-150x225

      The Scarecrow

      Spine-Tinglers™ #1

      chapbreakfromcover

      Jack O'Donnell

      spine-tingers_cover_2-150x225

      Table of Contents

      Title

      Copyright

      The Scarecrow

      More Spine-Tinglers™

      More Stories by Jack O'Donnell

      About Jack O'Donnell

      spine-tingers_cover_2-150x225

      Copyright

      The Scarecrow Copyright © 2016 Jack O'Donnell

      Spine-Tinglers™ is a trademark of ODONNELL BOOKS and Jack O'Donnell

      All Rights Reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living, dead or undead are purely coincidental and are not intended by the author.

      Images: Pixabay. Used under their respective licenses. Additional images from the author’s collection.

      Published by ODONNELL BOOKS

      spine-tingers_cover_2-150x225

      Scarecrow

      chapbreakfromcover

      Idon’t know who I am , or where I came from. All I know is that I can see things and hear things. I have no physical presence, yet I am somehow able to travel through space and time and witness untold events happening all around me. I suppose some of you will label me as a ghost, but that’s not truly accurate as I have no recollection of ever being alive, no childhood memories, no remembrances of any traumatic life events that might be keeping me trapped in this world. Nor do I feel as if I am a manifestation of a dead person. I leave no shadowy trace. I am shapeless, formless. Don’t get me wrong. Ghosts do exist, as I have seen them. I am just not one of them.

      For the most part, all I can do is watch and listen and report back to you what I have seen and heard. I can enter a body and experience feelings and emotions, yet the owner of the body never feels my presence; I don’t do this very often, as the feeling is unsettling and mostly unpleasant. Which again is odd in that I have no sense of a body, no sense of a brain, yet somehow I can still feel uncomfortable in certain situations. I do not know where this sense of feeling comes from, yet I can’t deny it can affect me. I am as perplexed in trying to explain my current state of what could be called existence as I am sure you are in trying to comprehend it.

      I seem to be drawn to those events that have a sinister side to them, a darkness. Perhaps it is my mission to shine some light on that darkness, to reveal the truth that is hidden in those dusky shadows. Perhaps I am here to warn you of what really exists in the world around you, make you a little more aware of the mysteries that often hide shrouded in the bliss of ignorance. I don’t really know. All I know is that I am compelled to chronicle what I have observed, what I have heard, what I have felt, and share those experiences with you…

      chapbreak1

      It started in a lonely cornfield in the town of Mirendo, in the state called Kentucky, in the country named the United States of America. This particular cornfield was located on the site of a bloody Civil War battle — the tremendous struggle in the 1860’s between the Union armies of the North and the Rebel Confederate armies of the South, between the Blues and the Grays, that nearly split the USA apart — but that’s not important. Okay, that’s not true. It is important, but that comes later…

      I was drawn to the scarecrow standing guard in the middle of the cornfield right away. I hovered over it, circling it. It seemed normal enough at first glance. Its broad-rimmed hat, its ragged canvas sack shirt, its ripped denim jeans, its worn brown leather gloves, its worn black leather boots were all common components of a scarecrow I had seen dozens of times before. It was stuffed full of straw, bits of the pale yellow stalks sticking out of the end of its sleeves, between the buttons of its shirt, from beneath the bottom of its jeans. I had seen many just like it in my journeys across the world and through time. Yet there was something about this scarecrow that was different than all the others I had seen, something different even beyond the fact that she was clearly female.

      I hadn’t seen many female scarecrows in my travels through space and time, yet she was undeniably patterned after

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