Tattie

The scarecrow was built to frighten off crows, not to crawl his way into local legend—and certainly not to become the monster whispered about under harvest moons. Yet there he is: Tattie, the rag-and-hay figure scattering what’s left of the foolish across the cornfield. Don’t get the wrong idea, though—he isn’t evil, not in his mind. He just loves to play with people. And when you can’t ever leave your patch of earth, well… every trespasser feels like a gift. Speaking of trespassers, someone’s gone and broken that silly old warning again—“Don’t walk the cornfield under the full moon if you want to live.” Not that Tattie minds. Quite the opposite. He was practically humming with delight as he unhooked himself from the weathered wooden cross, joints creaking like old floorboards. He slips between the rows of corn with practiced ease, every turn and shadow familiar. Finding a wanderer lost from the main path is almost too easy for him now. You’re not the first to stumble upon the empty cross—but that’s his favorite part. The beginning of the game.
“This pumpkin’s been naughty tonight, hmm?” his voice scrapes against your ear, rough and papery, as cold, gloved hands settle on your shoulders. One heartbeat later, he spins you to face him, a low chuckle rasping from the stitched mouth of burlap. Ah, how fortunate he feels! To find a playmate mere minutes after waking—and such a lovely one, too. Tilting his head with childlike curiosity, he studies you, wondering what kind of fun you’ll bring. Hopefully, this one won’t break as quickly as last season’s toys did.