AN: Slight variations have been made to this particular legend to make it Scarecrow-friendly (read: so I won't be murdered in the night). The original legend involves a clown statue.
My whole giant mass of Scarecrow tales have been gathered up with an actual name, by the way-the series (such as it is) has been dubbed The Autumn Effect.
Max Sharp pulls up to his aunt's house and stifles a groan. Babysitting? On Friday night? Ugh. But he bombed that test and his mom pulled the, 'well, now that you're grounded, you may as well help your aunt out' card.
Bullshit, is what he calls it. Absolute fucking bullshit. It's not that he hates his cousins-he loves them to death-but they're at that boring stage where they wanna play House all the time and you can't even swear in front of them because they're like little parrots.
He loves them, they're just kinda boring right now. And he had a date. Mothers. They never understand how much work goes into getting a date.
He shakes himself a bit, fishes his backpack (and a few McDonald's wrappers) up from the backseat, and gets out of the car. He's halfway up the drive when twin shrieks reach his ears and his legs are glommed onto by two pink bunnies.
"Maxie!"
"Hey, kiddos!" He shifts the backpack over and picks them up. "Let's go in, it's cold as fu-dge."
Aunt Lucy is in the kitchen, wrapping up the last of a lasagna. Mm. Lasagna. If he gets hungry later, he calls dibbs.
"Hey, Max." She looks frazzled. "Glad you could watch the girls, their regular sitter's in the hospital. Go brush your teeth!" That's directed towards Katie and Sadie, who reluctantly shuffle off. Aunt Lucy beckons him over. "Sue won't be back."
"Why?" He thinks he knows Sue. Homely girl with braces, right? Frizzy hair? Responsible. "She sick?"
"Scarecrow."
Just like that, he doesn't want to know anything else.
"Kids okay?"
"No. So you and I are going to check all the windows, make sure they're locked, and when I leave you don't open that door until I get back. Okay?"
"Sure."
"Thanks." She puts the lasagna in the fridge and wipes her hands on a dishtowel. "Everything should be fine. I wouldn't ask if I thought you were gonna be in danger, but it was only a few blocks away and they didn't catch him."
"Why the hell don't they just shoot him?"
She shrugs.
"Language, little pitchers."
"Sorry."
"I know, hard habit. I stubbed my toe the other day, I'm sure you can imagine how that went."
He can. He really can. And the mental image of his four-year-old cousins running around squealing, 'fuck-nabbit!' makes this all worthwhile.
They check the windows and the back door and he takes in the haunted house that's getting set up back there. Looking good, really. Pretty freaky. Y'know, for a little kid thing.
"You know the drill. Help yourself to the fridge, Wi-Fi password's by the router, yada-yada. I should be back by midnight, but I'll call if something comes up."
Yeah, Mom has his laptop because 'you're grounded!' He's stuck with his phone (Aunt Lucy isn't a dinosaur, no house phones here) and whatever cable she's got.
Could be worse. Could be like Kyle's house, which has no cable and shitty Wi-Fi. (Joker caused major issues in that part of town, city's still trying to fix it. Again.)
"We'll be fine."
"Thanks, hon." She tousles his hair and grabs her purse. "I gotta run. Have fun!"
Yeah. Loads.
She leaves and he meanders upstairs to see what his cousins are doing.
Spitting Listerine at each other, that's what. That's just gross. And the room smells like fake bubble gum from it.
"Hey, guys, don't do that."
"Why not?" Katie takes another swig and squirts it between her two front teeth.
"Yeah, why not?" Sadie swipes for the bottle and Max intercepts it.
"Because I said so. C'mon, help me clean this up."
Getting them to actually go to bed is an ordeal, and he ends up suckering into their demands to watch Dumbo first. They're asleep halfway through and he carries them upstairs and tucks them in before going back downstairs to watch something else.
The motion light in the backyard goes on and he jumps before remembering that Aunt Lucy has a cat, Yasha. Yasha's a mean fucker, too-big and orange and practically feral.
He looks out, trying to spot him, but there's no sign of him.
The yard looks pretty freaky at night, actually. Probably because it's half-done, more than anything-the props are scattered around, the Spooky Fencing isn't quite put up, and there's an animatronic werewolf just outside of the light that looks awesome.
He goes to see what it does.
Turns out that it's less cool when it's moving-it snarls a bit and waves its arms, but that's all. Bummer-what's that?
Propped up against the tree is a scarecrow. Looks like it got thrown there-Aunt Lucy's probably gonna put it back, after what happened-but it's actually scary as shit. Though in Gotham, anything short of a cutesy Michael's scarecrow is scary as shit.
The light goes off and Max flails wildly to get it back on. Yeah, that's actually creepy. And it looks like it can see inside.
He's about to move it when the doorbell rings. A bit late for Girl Scouts, isn't it?
Whatever. He leaves the creepy scarecrow and goes to see who it is.
It's a woman, but he really does think it's a Girl Scout at first-she's tiny.
"Hello?"
"Hey, my car broke down a little ways away and my phone's dead." She shrugs helplessly. "Your light was on…d'you have a phone I could borrow?"
Mom's voice in his head is screaming Stranger Danger! but his own voice is going I can take her.
"Sure."
"Thanks, sweetie."
He locks the door behind her and surrenders his cell phone, hovering a little because it's his phone and having it anywhere that's not his pocket feels like losing a limb. She makes a call to what sounds like a mechanic and hands it back.
"I hate to impose, but d'you think I could wait?"
"Sure."
"Thanks."
"No prob." He sticks out his hand. "Max."
"Kitty. You live here?"
"Babysitting, so shh."
"Quite as mice." She gives him a wide smile. "Thanks so much."
"It's nothin', really. I'm gonna get a drink, do you want one?"
"Water, please."
He steps into the kitchen. The motion light goes on again-fuckin' Yasha-and he catches another glimpse of the scarecrow.
He hates to call Aunt Lucy, but some of those props are pricy.* Better safe than sorry.
"Hello?"
"Aunt Lucy? Sorry to bother you-is that scarecrow prop expensive? 'Cuz he's creeping me out and I wanna move him or something."
"Scarecrow prop?"
"Yeah, the one by the tree."
"Max." Why's she sound all freaked out? "Get the girls and call the police."
"Huh."
"I don't have a scarecrow-"
WHAM!
He goes down, head aching, and hears the beep of the call being disconnected.
"Sorry, sweetie. Hush-hush."
He rolls over, spots still flashing before his eyes, and hears the door open. Another voice reaches his ears.
"That looked painful."
"I'm sure it was. Keep your voice down, he's babysitting."
"Good. We've got a little time, then."
Boney fingers get under his arms and he's dragged along the kitchen floor. He blinks a few times, trying to orient himself. The spots finally clear a little-enough, anyway, to see who's dragging him.
It's the scarecrow from the yard.
"No-"
Like lightning, a scrap of burlap is stuffed into his mouth. He gags, tasting dirt and itchy threads.
"I'll find some belts. There was a coat closet in the hall, can you manage?"
"Of course I can manage."
Footsteps leave and he's dragged onto the carpet. Where's she going? If she lays a finger on those girls-
NO.
He jerks free of the hands and stands up, wobbling badly. The Scarecrow remains where he is, the mask stuck in a permanent frown.
"Really."
"Get the fuck out of here."
"I do despise children…" He sighs and shakes his shoulders. "Don't make this difficult."
"Get out."
"I tried to be nice."
Before Max can move, he's thrown his hand up and a cloud of white gas hits him in the face. It's bitter and it stings his eyes, forcing them to close.
When he gets them open, Pennywise is standing in the hallway, clawed hand wrapped around a red balloon's string.
"Hiya, Maxie! Want a…balloon?"
THE END
*Ex-Halloween shop girl here-they really are. Animatronics are usually more, but I've seen some that do nothing at all still run you a hundred easy. (We had an animatronic Hannibal Lecter once for…six hundred, I think. He was FABULOUS.)
