The Demon Scarecrow, or as he called himself, Norman, sat on his perk in the deserted field. The farm had been abandoned for years and he had no company. No one to scare.

The barren fields were boring and all he could do was hopefully wait for at least somebody to come by. Maybe he'd scare and kill them, consuming their soul and flesh? Maybe he'd be friendly and not kill them. Who knows? He'd just have to be patient.