The Harvest
Mob Au to @//clownsuu
Penny to @cherrythepuppet
Vince to @cloudy-dreams
TW: Spooky scary scarecrows send shivers down your spine! Rotting meat.
Grover sat at the bar, keeling over a hearty glass of rye whiskey like there was no tomorrow. He felt miserable, grabbing at his chest and struggling to breathe. His mind spaced out, and when he came back to reality, Penny was sitting beside him.
“Ugh… what do you want.” He groaned, slamming back another cup. Grover let Howdy finish pouring him a new one before he turned back to Penny.
With the changing of the seasons in full swing and clumps of leaves layering the ground, she had now taken a poofy feather boa oon her bare shoulders. The little lady raised her eyebrows at him as a snarky grin graced her lips.
“Hi.” She said quickly, turning to Howdy and raising her finger. He nodded silently and started to prepare a Shirley Temple.
“Doesn’t answer my question.” Grover grumbled worthlessly, sinking into the bar stool like his roots were planting into the ground.
“Well, Scarycrow—“ Penny began before a cough from Grover interrupted her.
“Not my name.” He growled. Penny rolled her eye.
“Yeah, anyway, Boss told me to tell you ‘Feed him’ So. Feed him. Whatever that means. Has he started talking in third person?” She questioned, looking down at the pear bracelets over her opera gloves. Grover perked up. He looked out the window, downed his drink, and stood up.
“Where are you going?” Penny asked, reaching for her drink that Howdy had just finished shaking and topping with whipped cream and cherries. Her eye followed Grover as he grabbed a coat.
“Out.” He said. This piqued Penny’s curiosity. She’d heard from Antoni that Grover wasn’t allowed ‘out’ without permission. She hopped from her barstool, chasing Grover into the night.
“You’re not allowed out! Boss said-“
“Boss told me that I need to go when he gives the word. Where the fuck are those birds..” He growls, eyes on the skies as he listens for a distant cawing. His eye spots two birds, barely visible behind the night sky as they cry from their branch. Grover huffs, turning to Penny.
“You’re helping me make a delivery.” He said sharply, practically dragging her by the arm to one of the cars.
“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” She shouts, struggling against his grasp.
“Help me make the delivery and I get you whatever treat you want.” Grover replies, getting her in the car. It’s not the usual continental that he’d drive. It’s a pickup truck, back covered with a tarp. Penny sits in the passenger seat, holding her arm nervously.
“Fine.”
And they drive off into the night. Penny watched as the lights from the city began to dim. The truck passed by the warehouse that marked the edge of town and drove farther than that and parked at the tree line. Grover got out of the truck and took the cover off the truck bed.
It was a cacophony of flies, buzzing over the top half of a deer. It had been ripped in half, and smelled like it had been a long time since it had died. Its guts had stained the bed red and maggots had begun to creep through the deers skin and pelt. Grover looked down on it, grabbing it and easing it out of the truck. It hit the ground with a somehow wet squelch. Something leaked from the deer.
“Help me.” Grover said, and when Penny got around the truck she screamed. It alerted the crows which dotted the trees, and Grover slapped a still wet glove against her mouth.
“Shut the fuck up. Vince don’t like noise.” He commanded. Penny stared at him with a wide eye, shivering in her unfit-for-weather dress.
“Grab the back.” Grover said, looking over his shoulder into the tree line. Penny squirmed, reaching down to try and carry her half of the weight. It was unfair, Grover had to lean all the way down and walk backwards into the trees with Penny trying to direct him in the dim light. He was pricked by several brambles and stabbed with sticks.
When the pair passed the tree line and entered the clearing, it was like walking into the world’s most terrifying sculpture park. The figures were all in the midst of fleeing. To the untrained eye it would look like wood carvings, but the way that the flies landed on them and how new branches grew from they eye sockets and mouths of these people made it obvious that it wasn’t just sculpture.
Grover and Penny carried the deer, sticks crunching under their shoes. The two approached the center of the field and Grover dropped the deer. He looked around at the stillness, searching for something in the trees. Penny felt uncomfortable, her head on a swivel as she looked through the field. She could have sworn she saw one of the bodies still breathing.
Grover whistled, taking a step away from the dearly departed deer.
“Watch em feast.” He said with a little grin on his face. The crows flooded from tree line, swooping at the carcass. Grover laughed, and Penny turned over her shoulder to see a hunched over figure with dark eyes and an elongated mouth. She screamed, grabbing onto Grover who looked down at her.
When his eyes landed on Vince in the darkness, reaching out to grab Penny, Grover swatted his hand away.
“No, Vince. I get’cher real hungry to have someone new join ya but not her. She’s family.” Grover said, staring at Vince as the cut noose swayed around his neck. They held eye contact. Vince opened his mouth and murmured something in a low, unfamiliar tone that sent chill down Penny’s spine.
“Look, how bout next time I bring one here fer ya I’ll letcha do yer tree thing an’ all that. I like them screams too, gotta admit..” Grover said with a low chuckle. Vince had a raspy laugh, not saying a word but staring at Penny. Grover looked down at her again.
“Her names Penny. I needed an extra set a hands pullin’ the deer. I know ya like a bit of a scaredy-cat, but I got reprimanded by Wally when I had brought Poppy out here. You ‘member her, Vince? Real tall bird broad?” Grover said. Penny had a look of horror plastered on her face as she kept a grip on Grover’s pants. Vince did not respond, reaching out a finger to graze against Penny’s skin. The taller of the scarecrows grabbed at the other, holding his gloved hand tightly.
“I’ll see what I can fix up fer ya. But not her. Not her.” Grover said protectively. The crows behind him cawed as they finished their feast and flew back into the trees. The plot was silent again, save for Vince’s ragged breathing. Penny stared up at Grover, then at Vince.
“D’ya need help spreading the bones across the field?” Grover asked. He gave Penny a little pat, a nonverbal way of telling her to head back to the truck. As she began to walk away, Vince turned his head with an audible creak. Grover kept his attention, talking to him calmly.
It took over an hour for Grover to return to the pickup truck. Penny was asleep, her head against the window. Grover glanced out the driver side window at Vince who stood just beyond the tree line. He waved goodbye, then turned around on the road to drive home.
From just under Penny’s opera glove, a small leaf began to sprout.
