Vol II

Innistrad.  Has there ever been a plane as wonderful as this?  I could settle here my whole life and never run out of new tales.  

Werewolves, Vampires, Zombies.  Even when I thought I saw it all... A giant Eldritch Squid from beyond the stars came to the plane.  Such wonderful fear.  And how the Innistradians rise above these monsters.  Fear to Courage.

I've settled on a little hamlet in Kessig, a place of perpetual Autumn.  Under the fiery leaves, nessled in abandoned church.  It has a wonderful graveyard view overgrown with pumpkins.  The locals mutter curses when they see it, and hold their breath as they cross by it.

Our tale is about the scarecrow in this pumpkin patch.  Just a misshapen bit of straw and clothes in the rough vistage of a man.  No one really knew when it was made.  Perhaps it was a traveling priest, wishing to give the dead under the dirt some respite from the constant cawing of the crows?

Children had taken to a test of bravey with it.  They would toss rocks at the scarecrow.  Whoever could hit it, or get closest to it, was the bravest of them all.  And among these children, Fredric always said he was fearless.

So one day, he set out to prove it.  He put 3 rocks in his pocket and with his rowdy crew set off.  "Fredric will do it.  He's got no fear!  He will walk right up to that scarecrow and throw a rock in his stupid face."

Fredric laughed confidently.  "I bet I could do one better."  And in no time he was in the field.  Behind him the kids cheered.  Fredric took one step... then another... And soon... he was right by the thing.  He took the rocks out of his pocket.

The first shook the things head about.  The second opened a tear.  And the third?  Well the third brought the whole head clean off.  Spurred on by cheers of "Fredric the fearless!  Fredric the Monster Slayer" he took a near by stick, and skewered the head as his trophy.  Parading it all the way home.

His parents weren't pleased by the sight of the grissly thing.  They scolded him from going so far from home.  He shouted at them that he could take care of himself!  He was Fredric the fearless after all.  He flew to his room and slammed the door.

Night crept into the room.  Fredrics stomach grumbled, as in his rage, he forgot about dinner.  The floorboards creaked outside his bedroom.  They hadn't forgotten him after all!  The door opened, but there was no candle light illuminating a slice of pot pie.  No herby aroma of sweetbread.  

While he stared dumbfounded at the door, a soft thump landed behind him.  It rolled, rolled into the still moonlight cast by the window.  The straw mockery of a head, two sunken depressions where eyes might be.

Then the floor boards cracked and croaked again.  Creak...  Creak... CREAK!  

Silence.

A gloved hand slowly reached for the head, and dragged it away.

Fredric shut his eyes tight.  But the thumping of footsteps Crescendoed ever closer to him.  It must now be learing over him.  He clutched his head, worrying that it had come to seek revenge and pull it right off his neck.

There was a clattering beside him... and footsteps, fading away.  

Fredric, after what felt like ages, opened his eyes.  He was still in his room.  The door was open, but nothing more.  A dream, a nightmare surely. 

He settled down into his pillow.  Luckally his friends weren't around to see him.  He was Fredric the fearless after all.

His eyes settled on the nightstand where the straw head was moments before.  But it was gone.  Instead, 3 rocks were in its place.