You open the barn door slowly, peeking out. You jump a foot in the air as a small creature runs past your legs. A cat, you realize, bolting toward the field. When a shotgun muzzle doesn't immediately thrust itself into the barn, you peer out again. You don't see anyone.

"Hello?" you call? Maybe you dreamed that sound? Or maybe there was a sound but it sounded closer than it was? You look left, right, then center, laying eyes on the scarecrow from the lane, standing in a circle of moonlight. What the hell? You think there must be a farmer around here somewhere, then. Somebody had to move it. But you don't see anyone and you don't hear any more noises. The cat is sitting at the base of the scarecrow with its tail wrapped around the pole, staring at you intently. You glance at the ground but don't see anything that could be human footprints. The cat is still staring at you. The scarecrow looks like it is, too. You decide to go check out the scarecrow, there must be signs of other people there since someone obviously carried it to its current spot while you were sleeping.

You keep your eyes peeled for footprints as you walk toward the scarecrow, but there's nothing. You reach the scarecrow in just a few steps. The cat is staring up at you and you reach down to pet it, but it runs off into the field. There's still no signs of other people near the scarecrow; the dirt doesn't even look disturbed around the pole, it looks like its been there forever. You're still inspecting the ground around the scarecrow when you hear a voice, right next to you, say "Hello." The voice is a man's, but light rather than deep. The tone is friendly but in a bored way, like someone greeting a cashier when they finally get to the front of the line. You jolt upright from your squatting position, but don't see another soul. The scarecrow, however, seems to have shifted a bit, leaning a closer to you. Is its smile wider?

"I said hello," The scarecrow says in the same tone. Its painted-on smile is definitely growing bigger as you look at it.