She circled around her axis, trying to figure out where the enemy was, poking her knife into the air, and only achieved that someone nearby laughed velvety. Fingers touched his shoulder.

The hair on her head stood up. She screamed something hysterically and loudly and, having lost control of herself, rushed away, working her arms and legs with all her might.

Frightened, Jess reached the floor-to-ceiling French-style windows overlooking the patio and tried to break them, but suddenly saw that behind them stood a scarecrow that looked like a man crucified on a cross.

A terrible garden scarecrow, stuffed with straw, with a head made of a canvas bag, unevenly sewn up in the middle with large stitches and resembling an ugly scar. His eyes burned with predatory scarlet fires. A clawed hand raised in greeting. A slit appeared on his face - the monster grinned. It sent a kiss to the girl, and a poisonous green cloud of dust settled on the glass.

Jess screamed with a new portion of horror, felt fingers on her shoulder again and again ran away, not understanding the road and stumbling. For some reason, she rushed to the stairs and flew up to the second floor, still clutching a knife in her hand - the phone fell out.

Jess knew she couldn't run out into the street, because they were already waiting for her there. She must hide in the house. And she must call the police...rescuers...priests...someone!

The girl flew into the bedroom like a bullet, not realizing what she was doing, locked the door, climbed into the closet, pulled the tablet off the table, and, now and then pressing the power button, hid. She could only pray that the tablet turned on and had at least a few percent of the charge left in it so that she could dial 911.

“I beg you, help me, I beg you!” she screamed to herself, not feeling how her heart was pounding and how hard it was to breathe - as if a screwdriver had been thrust into her lungs.

A blue screen lit up, and at the same time footsteps were heard in the room, although no one opened the locked door.

Jess pressed her hand to her mouth with force, trying not to cry out and hoping to the last that the creature that was able to enter the house would not notice her, pass by.

A bright electric light flashed.

The cabinet door slowly opened.

And the one who was now standing in front of Jess, who had closed her eyes and stopped breathing, who hid behind dresses, began to methodically stick his hand into the closet.

Fingers touched the air.

They caught the sleeve of a hanging dress.

Went over her head.

Almost touched the cheekbones.

A little more - and they would have hurt the forearm.

- Where did she go? – asked a hoarse whisper and loudly sniffed the air.

There were hurried footsteps and the sound of a door being torn open with hinges. And then everything was quiet - for half a minute. And there were barely audible groans.

Jess, with difficulty overcoming the choking fear, crawled out of the closet on all fours. She expected anything, but not this - a guy lay next to her bed with his arms outstretched to the side. He was unconscious. There were blood stains and streaks on the gray T-shirt. There was also a pool of blood on the floor below him. The boy groaned softly and breathed heavily.

His heart pierced with a new arrow of pain.

- Brent! A scream escaped Jess's lips and hit the walls, creating an echo.

She awkwardly jumped up, ran up to him, knelt down, not knowing what to do and how to help him.

- Oh, my God... God... Brent! Brent, wake up, - she whispered desperately, now and then glancing at the black opening and the door lying next to it. “I beg you, I beg you, come to your senses…

She grabbed his arm, drenched in his blood and weeping.

And he suddenly opened his eyes - steel, in which pain put its mark.

"Jess," he whispered, "are you... Jess?"

- It's me, - she said, - please be patient, I'll help you ...

She kissed his hand with trembling wet lips and pressed it to her cheek, enjoying every fraction of a second - just think, maybe the monster would kill each of them now, and she was unable to resist the physical attraction to the one she fell in love with almost ten years ago.

- I'll help you, I promise, Brent, do you hear? I won’t leave you,” she said crying and, suddenly remembering the tablet, rushed to the closet in which he remained.

But the monster returned as soon as she dialed a familiar number.

The scarecrow burst into the room, bringing in the musty sweet smell of rotten vegetables, and picked up the boy's body on straw hands, laughing and squealing. He hit his head on the wall several times. It twisted a limp hand so that a crack was heard. Raised high and dropped, silently laughing. And raised again.

Jess felt like she was going crazy. Her piercing squeal tore eardrums. The tablet fell from her weakened hands. The operator on the other end of the wire kept repeating: “What happened to you?”, But the girl did not hear him. With huge eyes, shaking all over and not noticing that her clothes were bloody, she looked at the scarecrow, on whose hooked finger a claw-blade suddenly flashed.

A moment - and it, smiling at the girl with a slit in the face, ran it along Brent's neck, cutting the stretched skin.

Blood spattered like a scarlet fountain, staining the wall.

Brent's artery was damaged.

- Let him go! she screamed in a voice that was not her own, Jess. Her throat hurt from screams, her soul from horror. - Let go! Brent! Brent!

"No more Brent," the scarecrow confided to her in a raspy voice and opened its paws. - Whoops.

The guy's body flew down, but instead of the floor, a black cold-breathing hole now appeared. From there came laughter. A bad laugh, shrill, from which goosebumps ran down his arms. Next came the screeching.

The hole swallowed Brent and slammed shut.

The scarecrow moved toward Jess with a satisfied grin and grabbed her by the throat, pinching her airway and making her gasp for air. There was a metallic taste in my mouth.

- Nightmares, my love.

His eyes darkened and...

***

- ...we will always be together, Jess? he asks again, touching her forehead with warm lips.

"Always, Brent," she promises, stroking his forearm. And along with it, the sun, penetrating through the open window, caresses him. Outside the window, the forest rustles. And it smells of resin and pine needles.

She can't stand it and kisses him, hanging from above.

"I'll go crazy without you," he whispers, hugging her. And she laughs.

They are so good together.

And I want to stop time.