Disclaimer: So I forgot to add one in the first chapter. I think. I don't own Wizard of Oz or any of its characters. I only own the idea and this representation.

2. If I Only Had a Braaaiiin

Dorothea ventured carefully down the Yellow Brick Road, having to take larger steps here and there to avoid potholes or upturned bricks. The Witch's wand was clutched tightly in her hand, though she had no idea how to use it. She kept her guard up, turning her head this way and that, keeping her eyes open for any zombie munchkins. It occurred to her that she had no way of fighting the zombie munchkins unless simply pointing the black wand at them would do the job. Though, she mused, it might. It did belong to a Wicked Witch, and she did originally target the little munchkins, so she actually had a fighting chance of using it against them.

A low whimper from a bush to the right caught Dorothea's attention. She turned on her heel and extended the wand, unsure of what she was preparing for, but preparing nonetheless. She let out a sigh of relief when a black ball of fur came running out from the bundle of leaves.

"Good boy, Toto," she said with a soft smile, bending down to scratch the black Newfoundland behind the ears. He was only a year old but the top of his head reached her waist when he stood up. He let out a happy bark and rubbed against her hand, glad to be reunited.

The pair continued walking when a low groan came from the left. It sounded dark and menacing, and Dorothea wondered if it was already time to fight the zombies. Turning she found what appeared to be a scarecrow, nailed to a wooden post in a cornfield. What caught her attention was the baseball sticking out of his head, still dripping with fresh blood.

Musing that she needed a better weapon than a magical stick, she slowly ventured into the field with Toto at her side. He let out a bark before growling at the figure that, so far, hadn't moved. Dorothea reached up and pulled, dislodging the bat from the figure's head. It let out a displeased grunt as the bat was moved, causing Dorothea to jump back in surprise. She shook the bat a little to shake off some of the excess blood, which was now dripping heavily down the figure's head. She then noticed the rusty nails sticking out from the bat at awkward angles.

"Help…" it groaned. Looking closer, Dorothea discovered that it wasn't a proper scarecrow. It had once been a man, brutally butchered. He had been cut up and crudely sewn back together, stuffed with straw as much as he could be. The bat to the head must have been the cause of death, though the cause of reanimation couldn't be confirmed.

"Help?" she questioned. She walked around to the back of the post and found the nails keeping the man attached. Long nails pierced through his skin and clothes to keep him secured to the wood. Rain and time had worn down the wood, and it was barely holding together. She pushed against it, breaking it apart and letting the nails fall out, taking the scarecrow-man down with them.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Ughhh…" he grunted, offering her a small nod. He reached up and grasped an ear of corn, using it to pull himself to his feet. He nodded again as a thank you before tilting his head. Dorothea only wondered if it was an inquisitive gesture or a lack of control over his neck muscles.

"I'm supposed to find the Wizard," she explained, watching as his eyes widened. "Do you want to come along?"

He nodded again, more excitedly.

"Promise you won't get in the way?" she asked.

Again, he nodded. Dorothea turned to Toto, who had ceased his growling. With a breath, she gripped the bat and continued down the Yellow Brick Road.