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The origin story of Scarecrow, who is one of my girlfriend 's creepypasta OC's (And my fave OC thus far). I promised to get his origin story written, so, here it is. Enjoy.
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With a smile, Johnathan peered down at the ring he held in his hand and laughed quietly with excitement. Finally. After three, long years, he'd managed to save up enough money to afford the ring. He could finally propose to Liz, his girlfriend of four and a half years, and they could take the next step in their relationship. Three years ago, he'd decided Liz was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. After that, he'd spent every waking moment working to make their relationship a strong, and happy one. Swelling with pride, he pocketed the ring and unlocked the front door of their home before stepping inside. He didn't call out to her, not this time.

No, today would be different. He'd find her, wherever she was. He'd tell her how much he loved her, get down on one knee to propose. Then, he'd gaze into her eyes and hope to god that she'd accept. Excited, he checked various rooms in the house searching for his love. She wasn't anywhere downstairs, which could only mean she was on the second floor. Smiling, he slowly made his way up the stairs, mentally going over exactly what he'd say to her one last time before popping the question. Upon reaching the top step though, a peculiar sound met his ears. From his perspective, it sounded like groaning. Concerned, he moved towards the sound thinking Liz might have fallen ill.

However, the closer he moved to the sound, the clearer it became. The noises weren't groans, but moans- and there were two voices. Dread flooded his veins as he moved closer, coming to stand behind his and Liz's shared bedroom. Afraid of what he'd find, he reached to open the door. With a slow push, and a loud creak, he opened the door to peer inside the room. All at once, everything fell silent. Yet, he was sure the pair lying in his bed had heard the sickening sound of his heart shattering. There, lying on top of his beloved girlfriend, was his best friend, James. Shocked, he froze and stared wide eyed at the pair. They were sweaty. Based on the appearance of the sheets, they'd been well into the act.

Liz wasn't looking him in the eyes, and his supposed friend was staring at him awkwardly. For a few, painstakingly long minutes, everyone was silent. The pair in the bed separated and James struggled to slip on some clothing without exposing himself to his friend. However, when the male moved away from the bed to approach Johnathan, hell broke loose. In a sudden act of rage, the betrayed man lurched at his friend and tackled him. The pair struggled on the ground for a moment, throwing punches and kicks and shouting profanity. Liz shouted and struggled to dress, hoping for them to stop but her pleas fell on deaf ears. John was too far lost in anger, and James had to try and defend himself.

Not that he was given much chance. In his rage, Johnathan had lost all sense of mercy. He threw repeated blows to James's face, chest, shoulders, hand, and arms. His fists turned red from blood, most of which belonged to the male he was pummeling. He broke both hands punching the other so hard, and in the end it took a pair of police officers to pull him away from his unconscious friend. Johnathan had nearly beaten James to death, and while he was attacking Liz had called the police because she was unable to do anything to stop him herself. Upon being dragged off of his near dead friend, he was roughly pushed to the floor and pinned down as handcuffs were locked around his wrists.

Along with the cuffs, came a zip tie to ensure he couldn't get away. From there, he was dragged downstairs and locked inside a cop car while his friend was rushed outside to be loaded into the ambulance. Paramedics came and inspected his hands, which were eventually uncuffed for treatment. They patched him up to the best of their immediate capability, then he was cuffed once more and taken to jail. Once there, he went through the standard procedures, then he was put in a holding cell. His hands were inspected again, and he was given better treatment along with some painkiller, then he was left alone to think over the previous events.

At first, all he could feel was anger. He'd given Liz four years of his life. When they met, they were lucky enough to both share the desire to wait until they were married to have sex. He'd been honest, and faithful to her. Then, when he was finally able to get their relationship moving to the next step, he found out she'd betrayed him. Not only had she cheated on him, she'd done it with his best friend. Or rather, ex-best friend. James was dead to him now. He knew Johnathan had planned on proposing to Liz, hell, he was going to be the best man. They'd planned so much together in secrecy. Finding him in bed with his girlfriend had been like getting stabbed in the stomach.

Then he'd taken the knife James left in him and proceeded to maim him with it. He'd been honest. He'd been loyal, and truthful, and dedicated. He'd given her four years of his life. Four years he'd never get back. All of his hopes for the future. Gone. Shattered into millions of tiny pieces. Just like his heart. He spent his time in jail in solitude. He was told that if James was to die, he'd be trialed for murder. If the male pulled through, it was up to him whether or not he be sued. For three weeks, he was kept virtually in the dark on things. Partly because he never went out of his way to ask if James was okay, and partly because none of the police had the intention of telling him.

Come the end of those three weeks, an officer suddenly appeared to release him from his cell. Apparently James had pulled through, and he didn't seem to have suffered any long term mental damage. So, Johnathan had been free to go so long as he paid bale. In the end, one of Liz's relatives- an uncle- had done so for him. In return, he was expected to move out to the family farm and work off his debt. Truth be told, it was an attempt on the uncles part to give Johnathan a place to stay. He knew the man wouldn't be able to return to the home he and Liz shared, and that even if he could he wouldn't want to. The relationship was over. He'd been hurt bad.

So had James, but, that had been physical. His wounds would heal in a few months. In the end, it would probably take years for Johnathan's emotional injuries to mend themselves. Liz's uncle knew this, so he was doing what he could to give the male a means of calming down. John needed time to get his life back together, and working on a farm for a couple of years to pay off debt would give him that time to settle things. So, the male was picked up the same day of his release, and he sat silently in the car for the twelve hours it took him to arrive at his temporary home. He didn't even need to ask about his belongings. Liz's uncle had already seen to that.

After that, it was all a matter of him trying to settle in. His new home was just a small house. One bedroom, one bath. Small kitchen and living room. Just the essentials. Not as if he needed a huge building to store his things. All he had was clothing, a computer, cell phone, some photo albums, and a car. Due to him having saved a good chunk of his money to buy the engagement ring, and the fact that he spent most else on bills or things for Liz, he hadn't exactly spent much on himself. For the next six months, he attempted to fix the parts of him that had been broken. His attempts, were in vain. First, he fell into a deep depression. The depression became so severe that he lost the ability to sleep.

In the end, rest only came when he body could no longer handle him being awake. This led to a pattern of being awake for five or six days straight, followed by a fourteen hour slumber. The process repeated relentlessly, and gradually drove him mad. He became irritable and cranky. He snapped at people over the phone, and it became so bad that in the end no one bothered to call and check up on him. No one, but Liz's uncle. The man understood what Johnathan was going through, and did what he could to comfort him. In the end, he became the only one to calm John whenever his mood fell sour. However, his irritable nature eventually led to some serious issues on the farm.

The crows drove him mad. There was a whole flock of them, easily a hundred birds in count. He constantly had to chase them from the corn fields. They ruined a good chunk of the crop. None of the traps he set seemed to work, and whenever he set up things to deter them they always adjusted to them quickly. He hated the crows with a passion. There was only one acceptation. One of the crows- a smaller one with eerily red eyes- only ever sat and watched him. That was it. The bird never went into the fields to get at the corn. Never messed around with the farming equipment. Never even made a sound. All it did, was sit someplace near him- usually on a fence, or on top of a tractor- and it stared at him.

Honestly, the behavior perplexed him. The crows constant staring was both creepy, and comforting. There were rare incidents where he caught himself trying to talk to it. Granted, he became embarrassed whenever that happened and then he tried to shoo the creature off. Like all the other crows, it didn't really go away when he tried to make it. Still, his hatred of the crows was an issue. He behaved irrationally at times when he tried to chase them off. One incident nearly resulted in him stabbing himself in the chest with a pitch fork. He lucked out, and only punctured his shoulder. The wound was painful, but he counted himself lucky to be alive.

Even so, there eventually came a day where his luck ran out. His insomnia and out of whack sleeping pattern still hadn't been corrected. He was tired, groggy, not thinking correctly. The time to harvest what corn hadn't been ruined by the crows had come, and so he'd climbed into the combine and started it up to do just that. As expected, the crows were there. They were there, and before long they were driving him mad once more. They refused to leave the corn. He couldn't harvest. If he did the combine would hack the birds to bits, and then the corn would be ruined because of the risk of salmonella and other such heath hazards. As in they'd of put him in more debt if they didn't leave.

Annoyed with the birds, he turned off the combine and climbed out before chasing them off. He managed to make them scatter to the surrounding area, which allowed him to harvest a small segment of the field without issue. However, he had to repeat the process quite a few times in order to collect more of the corn. As the process went on, he grew more and more irritated. More reckless. The situation itself was unsafe considering how little he'd managed to sleep. So, eventually there came a time where he forgot to turn the combine off. He remembered to put on the break, but a sneaky little crow decided to toy around with things when he exited the vehicle.

He'd jumped out to chase after the birds screaming, and in his hysteria he didn't notice the combine rolling up behind him. By the time he caught on to its approach, it was too late for him to move. The combine mowed him down as easily as it did the corn stalks, and it tore him apart just the same. Clothing was torn to shreds. Flesh and bone pulled apart like string cheese. His pained and panicked scream was drowned out by the roar of the vehicles engine. Not that it mattered. He could only shout for a few seconds before the machine destroyed him. The combine mowed him down, then continued on until it crashed into the side of the nearby barn.

A good chunk of the wall collapsed and from there damaged the engine badly enough to make the vehicle fall still. After that, things fell silent. Save for the excited caws of the crows as they examined what remained of Johnathan. His body was in chunks. His eyes had popped out from the sheer force of the machine, and hence there was nothing left of them but what remained of the optic nerve. His jaw had practically been torn off, but instead hung open connected by the mere centimeters of flesh that hadn't been ripped. Any onlooker would look at his face, and know he died screaming in fear and agony. Most of his scalp was gone, the hair having been ripped away by the blades of the combine.

His limbs had been torn apart. Bone shattered and jutting out of flesh. Hands ripped from wrists and arms severed at the elbow. His torso in pieces. Ribs shattered and organs scattered around the site. Blood stained the surrounding area. This was the perfect image of death by farm equipment. His body was fresh and without protection. Yet, nothing dared come near to feast on the carrion. The only creature that approached the remains, was the red eyed crow. As if sad, the bird cawed at him and walked around. The creature studied his remained, nudging at them with its beak from time to time before coming to settle by his severed head.

An almost demonic, violet glow came from the crow as it peered into Johnathan's eyeless sockets. An eerie, purple flame enveloped the chunks of his mangled body, and as if alive the fire pulled the segments back together. The crow vanished among the living flames as Johnathan's body was pieced back together. There was no sound when all of this happened. The crows had gone silent. There was no crackle from the fire. No sound of grass or corn leaves being disturbed as flaming chunks of flesh were dragged around by an invisible force. Once all parts were back where they belonged, the fire vanished without a trace. Johnathan's body had been pieced back together.

Black stitches lined where his body had been reconnected. Fresh blood seeped from the still severed skin, and from the sockets of his empty eyes. The crow was there, beside him. Cawing loudly as if hoping to rouse him from a deep slumber. A quiet, pained groan left him as he took an abrupt breath. His chest heaved, and he coughed from pain and the sting of his insides. Droplets of blood shot from his mouth as he coughed, and he slowly found the nerve to try and move. At first, every motion seemed to be sheer agony to him. Given that minutes ago he had been dead and in pieces, it was understandable that he'd feel like a pile of dung.

At first he could only move his fingers. Then he managed to lift his arms a few inches. He found the ability to move his legs, and to work his back. In the end, it took nearly eight hours for him to find the strength- not to mention the resolve- to sit up. All the while, the crow stood beside him. Cawing and chirping and occasionally nudging him with its beak to encourage him to move. To fight against the pain and get back to his feet. Even after sitting up, it took him a while to force himself to his feet. As expected, his legs were weak. He stumbled and fell the first dozen or more times he tried to get past kneeling, but he did eventually manage to stand up.

From there, he still had issues to face. He was blind, bare, and in pain. The crow on the other hand, was perfectly fit. The creature flew upwards and nudged against his back. Little by little, the crow managed to coax him into moving. He was utterly dependent on the bird. He would not have been able to find his way without it. Eventually his outstretched hands came into contact with a solid structure. At first he assumed it to be his home, but after a few minutes of feeling around he came to discover that it was in fact the barn. He found the ruined combine and struggled past it, and once inside he was nudged until his bare feet came into contact with hay.

Once there, the bird left him be- it landed on the straw beside his feet and chirped at him. Be it from exhaustion or because he truly believed the crow had moved him to the barn to rest, he collapsed atop the way. Within moments, he was unconscious. That night, became the start of his new existence. When he next woke, days had passed. His eyes slowly pulled open, and though he could finally see everything was a mass of blurred color. He took in his surroundings to find clothing set beside him, and he struggled a bit to put it on. He didn't like being naked, not outside a real building. Once clothed, he set out to try and make it back home.

As he did so, the crow followed after him. In fact, all the crows followed him. They trailed him as if he was the leader of the flock, and it both confused and irritated him. They had been the cause of what had happened to him, and he wouldn't be forgiving them any time soon. He managed to get home without anything happening, and once inside the flock of crows remained outside. They gathered outside all the windows to watch him. The birds were fixated on him for reasons he could not know or understand. Still in slight pain, he made his way to the bathroom where he hoped to clean himself off. He took a long, hot shower and scrubbed the dry blood from his stitched body.

He ignored the slight pain the soap caused when it came into contact with his wounds, and aside from that the experience was rejuvenating. When he finished bathing, he was pleased to find that his vision had gone back to normal. Cleaning the blood from his eyes must have fixed the issue with them. There were a few brief moments of contentment upon finding that he could see, but that changed the moment he laid eyes on his reflection. He was, different. In the worst ways. His eyes. The whites had turned pitch black, and his iris's had gone red. His skin was a different color, still looking nearly dead. The stitches lining his body stood out against his skin and made him look like something out of a Frankenstein novel.

His teeth were misshapen and jagged, looking more like they belonged in the mouth of a shark than a person. If he really was a person anymore. He reached to better feel his hair. He'd noticed it felt strange when he washed it, but, now he could see why. His hair was- it looked as if it was made of straw. Very thick, but, not rough. Just, extremely thick strands of hair. Distressed, he quickly dressed and ran back outside. He panicked, not knowing what to do. The crows surrounded him, gripping at his clothing with their feet and beaks as if to cling to him. They weighed him down and he fell to the ground with a startled shriek. Pinned, he stared fearfully as the red eyed crow moved to stand in front of his face.

He watched intently as the bird preened its wing, only to pluck a feather. The feather was set in front of him, and all at once the other crows dispersed. He hesitantly picked up the offered feather, and immediately a voice rang in his ears. "Can you hear me now?... Scarecrow, can you hear me?...". The calm, female voice sounded off. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at the bird. How was it possible for it to have been talking to him? He panicked. He stood and ran. He ran until his body refused to obey him. The crows all followed after him, the red eyed one leading the flock. When he was forced to stop and rest, the bird came to land atop his knee and it continued to speak to him.

All, was explained. Though, given his state the more he heard, the more he broke. He was told what had happened to him. What the crow had done in order to save him- to make him what he was meant to be. The more he was told, the more he broke. Until a hand came into contact with his tear stained cheek. Shocked, he peered upwards to find a black haired, red eyed woman smiling down at him softly. She wrapped her arms around him to hold him close, her touch comforting. He remained dead silent and listened as she explained what she was. As fate would have it, she had been like him. Betrayed by her love, and left utterly broken.

Only, she'd committed suicide in her heartbreak. Her soul had been to broken to pass on, and so she was reborn as a crow. Or rather, she'd possessed a young crow and from there learned to grasp various magics. Truth be told, she had no real memory of how she'd come to teach herself such things. Her mind hadn't been all there when all of those things had happened. He eventually calmed, comforted by her voice and her hold. His first words of question were why she hadn't just shown him her real form, to which she responded that she thought it would be easier on him to show him her magic in steps. She also mentioned that he'd of needed a feather anyways, otherwise he wouldn't understand her as a crow.

From there, it was all a matter of her being there and helping him to adjust to his knew life. He knew he couldn't let others know he still existed. He'd be deemed a monster and people would hunt him down. So, he moved into the barn and remained there while other events followed. Liz's uncle came after losing contact with him for over a month. There was an investigation, and it was eventually confirmed that he'd been run over by the combine. The ordeal was deemed a suicide, and, emotionally broken the man shut down his farm. He couldn't bare the thought of continuing to raise corn on land where someone close to him had killed himself. The house Johnathan had lived in was closed off.

Power and water were turned off, though there was no keeping anyone from getting water from the nearby canal. Johnathan- or, Scarecrow as the crow dubbed him- couldn't do anything about power though. Unable to cook in the barn, or anywhere near the farm for that matter because of the dry grass, leaves, and straw, he had to eat everything raw. He developed a taste for raw meat. Ikki, the crow who had saved him, proved to be a far better companion than Liz had ever been. There was honesty between them. Mutual respect, and in time love. For four years, their lives together were virtually uninterrupted by people of the outside world.

They were alone, content, and happy. Yes, at times Scarecrow missed the world he'd come from, but whenever those emotions appeared Ikki was there to comfort him. At the start if the fifth year though, everything changed- and their lives took, a dark turn in a good direction. There came a day, where the pair woke early to the sound of a car driving through the remnants of the corn field. Instinctively, they hid in the hay loft and waited while the intruders appeared to look around. However, Scarecrow was surprised and upset to find that their visitors were no strangers. They were none other than Liz, and James. The people who had betrayed him and triggered everything that had happened since.

While he'd been content with his existence up until that point, seeing them again after so many years had revived all the slumbering emotions. All the hate, pain, sadness, grief. All of it came rushing back to the surface. Especially when he noticed, the rings on their fingers. They were married. Living the life he thought he'd have. After they'd ruined his life, they'd taken his dreams as their own. He wouldn't stand for it. People like them didn't deserve happiness. Without saying a thing, he jumped down from the hay loft intend on giving them a piece of his mind. He'd completely forgotten about his appearance, he was so furious with them. However, the first thing they noticed about him, was his appearance.

"Monster". The first words to leave their gaping mouths, was "Monster". He didn't know why. Maybe it had been because of his rage, or maybe because he'd come to fear the word, but. Being called a "Monster", only made him snap further. He growled and snarled inaudible words, approaching them slowly and with malice in his movements. Terrified, the pair tried to escape him. They made a move to rush for the barn door, hoping to escape that way. The end result of that, was the door falling on top of the pair and pinning them to the dusty, hay covered ground. He froze momentarily at the sight of them, held down and helpless. Utterly at his mercy.

The thought of letting them go never even entered his mind. All he wanted, was to make them suffer. To make them suffer the way he'd suffered. The pain he'd been dealt. He'd died because of them, and so they had to die by his hand. James, was the first to be dealt his punishment. Scarecrow grasped the male by his hair then proceeded to slam his head into the hard ground as he shrieked at them. He screamed the story of his suffering, death, and rebirth, at the top of his lungs. He was sure his throat had started bleeding. That the stitches lining his mouth had torn. The reality of it was that he was so caught up in the memories, he was feeling the pain all over again.

He blamed them openly for what had happened to him, and once he'd vented everything verbally, he decided to do the rest physically. He dropped James's head and left to walk around the barn. He found a crate of rusty, underused farming tools. They were dragged back to where James and Liz lie pinned beneath the door, and then he got to work. He made sure the male suffered. He started by ripping off James's fingernails with a pair of pliers, then he yanked out his teeth in a similar fashion. When he tired of the males screams, he used that same set of pliers to grasp his tongue, then he ripped the muscle clean out of his mouth. That shut him up, but Scarecrow didn't stop there.

With James silenced, Scarecrow proceeded to break him. In a literal sense. He found a small hammer, and proceeded to break the males bones with it. Blow after blow, swing after swing. He shattered the bones in James's hand, shoulders, ribs. When he couldn't break more without having to free the man, he decided to get creative. He found a sickle among the farm tools, and to his delight it was still plenty sharp despite its rusty appearance. Crazed from rage, he proceeded to skin the male alive. He started by peeling the flesh from his fingers, then moved from there. He tossed the skin and muscle elsewhere for the crows to eat as he worked.

Liz screamed and begged him to stop, but her pleas only edge him on more. He stripped James down to the bone, and when there wasn't anymore flesh to give he sat back and watched as the body stopped moving. Blood loss and trauma did it. He was, proud of what he'd manage to do with the male. The crows had also enjoyed their meal. Seemed they'd taken a liking to human flesh after only a few bites. With James dead, Scarecrow turned his attention to Liz. A different plan formed in his head at the sight of her, something considerably cruel. With a demented laugh, he lifted the barn door enough for her to crawl out from underneath it. Then, he watched as she bolted out of the barn.

Her first instinct had her running to the car in hopes of escape, but without the keys she was trapped. Terrified and knowing he was after her, she rushed to the corn field hoping to escape him. He didn't even know where she'd run off to. He'd gone to search in another direction when she ran. She could have counted herself lucky, if Ikki hadn't been perfectly aware of her location. Rather than tell her partner where the woman had gone, the crow decided to take matters into her own hands. She knew Liz had hurt Scarecrow, and she was going to get her fair share of revenge for it. She took her human shape, and used her magic to fix the combine. From there, she got it started and drove it into the corn field.

Ikki chased Liz down with the machine with the help of the other crows. The birds surrounded the woman to make her trip, then Ikki ran over her legs with the combine. Liz's legs were ripped apart faster than bacon between a dogs teeth. Content, the woman turned off the machine and waited for Scarecrow to come to their location. He was sure to hear Liz's pained shrieks and sobs, considering how quiet the cornfield typically was. The crows also helped to lead him on, and upon finding her he froze. Not in regret, or because he was having second thoughts. No, he stopped for a while because he wanted to hear her scream. He wanted to watch her wail and beg for mercy. Mercy she'd never get.

He laughed darkly as she struggled to try and crawl away from him. The pain she was in was without a doubt sheer agony, but fear kept her from passing out. When he grew tired of her voice, he stormed over to her. Her stamped a foot on her back roughly, crushing a few of her ribs from the sheer force of his blow. She coughed and gagged, spitting out blood even as he rolled her over to peer into her eyes. She looked at him, begging for mercy. He spat in her face, then ripped open her shirt and stabbed the sickle into her chest. He stared her in the face as he cut her chest cavity open. "You promised me your heart once, then tried to give it to someone else.... Now, I'm taking it!". He snarled that phrase as he cut her open.

She stared wide eyed, shocked an in pain. All life left her eyes when he reached into the gaping hole in her chest to grasp her heart. With a quick yank, he removed the beating organ and watched as her body went limp. Ikki came to stand behind him as he looked between the woman's dead body, and the heart he held in his hand. On impulse, he took a large bite out of it. Intent on devouring the organ as a final act of vengeance upon Liz. However, before he had the chance to take a second bite, Ikki slapped the heart out of his hand. He glared at her weakly, and she knelt beside him to wipe his mouth. "Trash like that will make you sick." She said affectionately, only to stiffen.

He followed her gaze, and was shocked to find the heart moving. The half eaten organ swelled, and shook. Shocked from the sight, they watch and listen as it grows. A familiar sound comes from the organ, and as they stare eventually the beak of a crow breaks through. Like an infant from a human body, the crow emerged from the bite in the heart and stumbled around a bit. There was confusion, but Ikki quickly confirmed that the crow was in fact Liz. Somehow, him eating part of her heart had revived her as a bird. A bird sworn to be completely obedient and loyal to him. From there, the pair took on a strange new, hobby. Anyone deceitful- people who betrayed their loved ones- didn't last long while in their territory.

Scarecrow discovered that he could only turn women into crows, but he didn't mind. Traitors learned the hard way what would happen if they betrayed those who trusted them. He created more crows, grew stronger and more skilled. He and Ikki loved their new job. In fact, they still do. So, be mindful now. Think twice before you betray someone. Otherwise, you never know. They just might come for you~...

~"Care to be my little crow~?"~

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

The origin story of Scarecrow, who is one of my girlfriend 's creepypasta OC's (And my fave OC thus far). I promised to get his origin story written, so, here it is. Enjoy.
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With a smile, Johnathan peered down at the ring he held in his hand and laughed quietly with excitement. Finally. After three, long years, he'd managed to save up enough money to afford the ring. He could finally propose to Liz, his girlfriend of four and a half years, and they could take the next step in their relationship. Three years ago, he'd decided Liz was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. After that, he'd spent every waking moment working to make their relationship a strong, and happy one. Swelling with pride, he pocketed the ring and unlocked the front door of their home before stepping inside. He didn't call out to her, not this time.

No, today would be different. He'd find her, wherever she was. He'd tell her how much he loved her, get down on one knee to propose. Then, he'd gaze into her eyes and hope to god that she'd accept. Excited, he checked various rooms in the house searching for his love. She wasn't anywhere downstairs, which could only mean she was on the second floor. Smiling, he slowly made his way up the stairs, mentally going over exactly what he'd say to her one last time before popping the question. Upon reaching the top step though, a peculiar sound met his ears. From his perspective, it sounded like groaning. Concerned, he moved towards the sound thinking Liz might have fallen ill.

However, the closer he moved to the sound, the clearer it became. The noises weren't groans, but moans- and there were two voices. Dread flooded his veins as he moved closer, coming to stand behind his and Liz's shared bedroom. Afraid of what he'd find, he reached to open the door. With a slow push, and a loud creak, he opened the door to peer inside the room. All at once, everything fell silent. Yet, he was sure the pair lying in his bed had heard the sickening sound of his heart shattering. There, lying on top of his beloved girlfriend, was his best friend, James. Shocked, he froze and stared wide eyed at the pair. They were sweaty. Based on the appearance of the sheets, they'd been well into the act.

Liz wasn't looking him in the eyes, and his supposed friend was staring at him awkwardly. For a few, painstakingly long minutes, everyone was silent. The pair in the bed separated and James struggled to slip on some clothing without exposing himself to his friend. However, when the male moved away from the bed to approach Johnathan, hell broke loose. In a sudden act of rage, the betrayed man lurched at his friend and tackled him. The pair struggled on the ground for a moment, throwing punches and kicks and shouting profanity. Liz shouted and struggled to dress, hoping for them to stop but her pleas fell on deaf ears. John was too far lost in anger, and James had to try and defend himself.

Not that he was given much chance. In his rage, Johnathan had lost all sense of mercy. He threw repeated blows to James's face, chest, shoulders, hand, and arms. His fists turned red from blood, most of which belonged to the male he was pummeling. He broke both hands punching the other so hard, and in the end it took a pair of police officers to pull him away from his unconscious friend. Johnathan had nearly beaten James to death, and while he was attacking Liz had called the police because she was unable to do anything to stop him herself. Upon being dragged off of his near dead friend, he was roughly pushed to the floor and pinned down as handcuffs were locked around his wrists.

Along with the cuffs, came a zip tie to ensure he couldn't get away. From there, he was dragged downstairs and locked inside a cop car while his friend was rushed outside to be loaded into the ambulance. Paramedics came and inspected his hands, which were eventually uncuffed for treatment. They patched him up to the best of their immediate capability, then he was cuffed once more and taken to jail. Once there, he went through the standard procedures, then he was put in a holding cell. His hands were inspected again, and he was given better treatment along with some painkiller, then he was left alone to think over the previous events.

At first, all he could feel was anger. He'd given Liz four years of his life. When they met, they were lucky enough to both share the desire to wait until they were married to have sex. He'd been honest, and faithful to her. Then, when he was finally able to get their relationship moving to the next step, he found out she'd betrayed him. Not only had she cheated on him, she'd done it with his best friend. Or rather, ex-best friend. James was dead to him now. He knew Johnathan had planned on proposing to Liz, hell, he was going to be the best man. They'd planned so much together in secrecy. Finding him in bed with his girlfriend had been like getting stabbed in the stomach.

Then he'd taken the knife James left in him and proceeded to maim him with it. He'd been honest. He'd been loyal, and truthful, and dedicated. He'd given her four years of his life. Four years he'd never get back. All of his hopes for the future. Gone. Shattered into millions of tiny pieces. Just like his heart. He spent his time in jail in solitude. He was told that if James was to die, he'd be trialed for murder. If the male pulled through, it was up to him whether or not he be sued. For three weeks, he was kept virtually in the dark on things. Partly because he never went out of his way to ask if James was okay, and partly because none of the police had the intention of telling him.

Come the end of those three weeks, an officer suddenly appeared to release him from his cell. Apparently James had pulled through, and he didn't seem to have suffered any long term mental damage. So, Johnathan had been free to go so long as he paid bale. In the end, one of Liz's relatives- an uncle- had done so for him. In return, he was expected to move out to the family farm and work off his debt. Truth be told, it was an attempt on the uncles part to give Johnathan a place to stay. He knew the man wouldn't be able to return to the home he and Liz shared, and that even if he could he wouldn't want to. The relationship was over. He'd been hurt bad.

So had James, but, that had been physical. His wounds would heal in a few months. In the end, it would probably take years for Johnathan's emotional injuries to mend themselves. Liz's uncle knew this, so he was doing what he could to give the male a means of calming down. John needed time to get his life back together, and working on a farm for a couple of years to pay off debt would give him that time to settle things. So, the male was picked up the same day of his release, and he sat silently in the car for the twelve hours it took him to arrive at his temporary home. He didn't even need to ask about his belongings. Liz's uncle had already seen to that.

After that, it was all a matter of him trying to settle in. His new home was just a small house. One bedroom, one bath. Small kitchen and living room. Just the essentials. Not as if he needed a huge building to store his things. All he had was clothing, a computer, cell phone, some photo albums, and a car. Due to him having saved a good chunk of his money to buy the engagement ring, and the fact that he spent most else on bills or things for Liz, he hadn't exactly spent much on himself. For the next six months, he attempted to fix the parts of him that had been broken. His attempts, were in vain. First, he fell into a deep depression. The depression became so severe that he lost the ability to sleep.

In the end, rest only came when he body could no longer handle him being awake. This led to a pattern of being awake for five or six days straight, followed by a fourteen hour slumber. The process repeated relentlessly, and gradually drove him mad. He became irritable and cranky. He snapped at people over the phone, and it became so bad that in the end no one bothered to call and check up on him. No one, but Liz's uncle. The man understood what Johnathan was going through, and did what he could to comfort him. In the end, he became the only one to calm John whenever his mood fell sour. However, his irritable nature eventually led to some serious issues on the farm.

The crows drove him mad. There was a whole flock of them, easily a hundred birds in count. He constantly had to chase them from the corn fields. They ruined a good chunk of the crop. None of the traps he set seemed to work, and whenever he set up things to deter them they always adjusted to them quickly. He hated the crows with a passion. There was only one acceptation. One of the crows- a smaller one with eerily red eyes- only ever sat and watched him. That was it. The bird never went into the fields to get at the corn. Never messed around with the farming equipment. Never even made a sound. All it did, was sit someplace near him- usually on a fence, or on top of a tractor- and it stared at him.

Honestly, the behavior perplexed him. The crows constant staring was both creepy, and comforting. There were rare incidents where he caught himself trying to talk to it. Granted, he became embarrassed whenever that happened and then he tried to shoo the creature off. Like all the other crows, it didn't really go away when he tried to make it. Still, his hatred of the crows was an issue. He behaved irrationally at times when he tried to chase them off. One incident nearly resulted in him stabbing himself in the chest with a pitch fork. He lucked out, and only punctured his shoulder. The wound was painful, but he counted himself lucky to be alive.

Even so, there eventually came a day where his luck ran out. His insomnia and out of whack sleeping pattern still hadn't been corrected. He was tired, groggy, not thinking correctly. The time to harvest what corn hadn't been ruined by the crows had come, and so he'd climbed into the combine and started it up to do just that. As expected, the crows were there. They were there, and before long they were driving him mad once more. They refused to leave the corn. He couldn't harvest. If he did the combine would hack the birds to bits, and then the corn would be ruined because of the risk of salmonella and other such heath hazards. As in they'd of put him in more debt if they didn't leave.

Annoyed with the birds, he turned off the combine and climbed out before chasing them off. He managed to make them scatter to the surrounding area, which allowed him to harvest a small segment of the field without issue. However, he had to repeat the process quite a few times in order to collect more of the corn. As the process went on, he grew more and more irritated. More reckless. The situation itself was unsafe considering how little he'd managed to sleep. So, eventually there came a time where he forgot to turn the combine off. He remembered to put on the break, but a sneaky little crow decided to toy around with things when he exited the vehicle.

He'd jumped out to chase after the birds screaming, and in his hysteria he didn't notice the combine rolling up behind him. By the time he caught on to its approach, it was too late for him to move. The combine mowed him down as easily as it did the corn stalks, and it tore him apart just the same. Clothing was torn to shreds. Flesh and bone pulled apart like string cheese. His pained and panicked scream was drowned out by the roar of the vehicles engine. Not that it mattered. He could only shout for a few seconds before the machine destroyed him. The combine mowed him down, then continued on until it crashed into the side of the nearby barn.

A good chunk of the wall collapsed and from there damaged the engine badly enough to make the vehicle fall still. After that, things fell silent. Save for the excited caws of the crows as they examined what remained of Johnathan. His body was in chunks. His eyes had popped out from the sheer force of the machine, and hence there was nothing left of them but what remained of the optic nerve. His jaw had practically been torn off, but instead hung open connected by the mere centimeters of flesh that hadn't been ripped. Any onlooker would look at his face, and know he died screaming in fear and agony. Most of his scalp was gone, the hair having been ripped away by the blades of the combine.

His limbs had been torn apart. Bone shattered and jutting out of flesh. Hands ripped from wrists and arms severed at the elbow. His torso in pieces. Ribs shattered and organs scattered around the site. Blood stained the surrounding area. This was the perfect image of death by farm equipment. His body was fresh and without protection. Yet, nothing dared come near to feast on the carrion. The only creature that approached the remains, was the red eyed crow. As if sad, the bird cawed at him and walked around. The creature studied his remained, nudging at them with its beak from time to time before coming to settle by his severed head.

An almost demonic, violet glow came from the crow as it peered into Johnathan's eyeless sockets. An eerie, purple flame enveloped the chunks of his mangled body, and as if alive the fire pulled the segments back together. The crow vanished among the living flames as Johnathan's body was pieced back together. There was no sound when all of this happened. The crows had gone silent. There was no crackle from the fire. No sound of grass or corn leaves being disturbed as flaming chunks of flesh were dragged around by an invisible force. Once all parts were back where they belonged, the fire vanished without a trace. Johnathan's body had been pieced back together.

Black stitches lined where his body had been reconnected. Fresh blood seeped from the still severed skin, and from the sockets of his empty eyes. The crow was there, beside him. Cawing loudly as if hoping to rouse him from a deep slumber. A quiet, pained groan left him as he took an abrupt breath. His chest heaved, and he coughed from pain and the sting of his insides. Droplets of blood shot from his mouth as he coughed, and he slowly found the nerve to try and move. At first, every motion seemed to be sheer agony to him. Given that minutes ago he had been dead and in pieces, it was understandable that he'd feel like a pile of dung.

At first he could only move his fingers. Then he managed to lift his arms a few inches. He found the ability to move his legs, and to work his back. In the end, it took nearly eight hours for him to find the strength- not to mention the resolve- to sit up. All the while, the crow stood beside him. Cawing and chirping and occasionally nudging him with its beak to encourage him to move. To fight against the pain and get back to his feet. Even after sitting up, it took him a while to force himself to his feet. As expected, his legs were weak. He stumbled and fell the first dozen or more times he tried to get past kneeling, but he did eventually manage to stand up.

From there, he still had issues to face. He was blind, bare, and in pain. The crow on the other hand, was perfectly fit. The creature flew upwards and nudged against his back. Little by little, the crow managed to coax him into moving. He was utterly dependent on the bird. He would not have been able to find his way without it. Eventually his outstretched hands came into contact with a solid structure. At first he assumed it to be his home, but after a few minutes of feeling around he came to discover that it was in fact the barn. He found the ruined combine and struggled past it, and once inside he was nudged until his bare feet came into contact with hay.

Once there, the bird left him be- it landed on the straw beside his feet and chirped at him. Be it from exhaustion or because he truly believed the crow had moved him to the barn to rest, he collapsed atop the way. Within moments, he was unconscious. That night, became the start of his new existence. When he next woke, days had passed. His eyes slowly pulled open, and though he could finally see everything was a mass of blurred color. He took in his surroundings to find clothing set beside him, and he struggled a bit to put it on. He didn't like being naked, not outside a real building. Once clothed, he set out to try and make it back home.

As he did so, the crow followed after him. In fact, all the crows followed him. They trailed him as if he was the leader of the flock, and it both confused and irritated him. They had been the cause of what had happened to him, and he wouldn't be forgiving them any time soon. He managed to get home without anything happening, and once inside the flock of crows remained outside. They gathered outside all the windows to watch him. The birds were fixated on him for reasons he could not know or understand. Still in slight pain, he made his way to the bathroom where he hoped to clean himself off. He took a long, hot shower and scrubbed the dry blood from his stitched body.

He ignored the slight pain the soap caused when it came into contact with his wounds, and aside from that the experience was rejuvenating. When he finished bathing, he was pleased to find that his vision had gone back to normal. Cleaning the blood from his eyes must have fixed the issue with them. There were a few brief moments of contentment upon finding that he could see, but that changed the moment he laid eyes on his reflection. He was, different. In the worst ways. His eyes. The whites had turned pitch black, and his iris's had gone red. His skin was a different color, still looking nearly dead. The stitches lining his body stood out against his skin and made him look like something out of a Frankenstein novel.

His teeth were misshapen and jagged, looking more like they belonged in the mouth of a shark than a person. If he really was a person anymore. He reached to better feel his hair. He'd noticed it felt strange when he washed it, but, now he could see why. His hair was- it looked as if it was made of straw. Very thick, but, not rough. Just, extremely thick strands of hair. Distressed, he quickly dressed and ran back outside. He panicked, not knowing what to do. The crows surrounded him, gripping at his clothing with their feet and beaks as if to cling to him. They weighed him down and he fell to the ground with a startled shriek. Pinned, he stared fearfully as the red eyed crow moved to stand in front of his face.

He watched intently as the bird preened its wing, only to pluck a feather. The feather was set in front of him, and all at once the other crows dispersed. He hesitantly picked up the offered feather, and immediately a voice rang in his ears. "Can you hear me now?... Scarecrow, can you hear me?...". The calm, female voice sounded off. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at the bird. How was it possible for it to have been talking to him? He panicked. He stood and ran. He ran until his body refused to obey him. The crows all followed after him, the red eyed one leading the flock. When he was forced to stop and rest, the bird came to land atop his knee and it continued to speak to him.

All, was explained. Though, given his state the more he heard, the more he broke. He was told what had happened to him. What the crow had done in order to save him- to make him what he was meant to be. The more he was told, the more he broke. Until a hand came into contact with his tear stained cheek. Shocked, he peered upwards to find a black haired, red eyed woman smiling down at him softly. She wrapped her arms around him to hold him close, her touch comforting. He remained dead silent and listened as she explained what she was. As fate would have it, she had been like him. Betrayed by her love, and left utterly broken.

Only, she'd committed suicide in her heartbreak. Her soul had been to broken to pass on, and so she was reborn as a crow. Or rather, she'd possessed a young crow and from there learned to grasp various magics. Truth be told, she had no real memory of how she'd come to teach herself such things. Her mind hadn't been all there when all of those things had happened. He eventually calmed, comforted by her voice and her hold. His first words of question were why she hadn't just shown him her real form, to which she responded that she thought it would be easier on him to show him her magic in steps. She also mentioned that he'd of needed a feather anyways, otherwise he wouldn't understand her as a crow.

From there, it was all a matter of her being there and helping him to adjust to his knew life. He knew he couldn't let others know he still existed. He'd be deemed a monster and people would hunt him down. So, he moved into the barn and remained there while other events followed. Liz's uncle came after losing contact with him for over a month. There was an investigation, and it was eventually confirmed that he'd been run over by the combine. The ordeal was deemed a suicide, and, emotionally broken the man shut down his farm. He couldn't bare the thought of continuing to raise corn on land where someone close to him had killed himself. The house Johnathan had lived in was closed off.

Power and water were turned off, though there was no keeping anyone from getting water from the nearby canal. Johnathan- or, Scarecrow as the crow dubbed him- couldn't do anything about power though. Unable to cook in the barn, or anywhere near the farm for that matter because of the dry grass, leaves, and straw, he had to eat everything raw. He developed a taste for raw meat. Ikki, the crow who had saved him, proved to be a far better companion than Liz had ever been. There was honesty between them. Mutual respect, and in time love. For four years, their lives together were virtually uninterrupted by people of the outside world.

They were alone, content, and happy. Yes, at times Scarecrow missed the world he'd come from, but whenever those emotions appeared Ikki was there to comfort him. At the start if the fifth year though, everything changed- and their lives took, a dark turn in a good direction. There came a day, where the pair woke early to the sound of a car driving through the remnants of the corn field. Instinctively, they hid in the hay loft and waited while the intruders appeared to look around. However, Scarecrow was surprised and upset to find that their visitors were no strangers. They were none other than Liz, and James. The people who had betrayed him and triggered everything that had happened since.

While he'd been content with his existence up until that point, seeing them again after so many years had revived all the slumbering emotions. All the hate, pain, sadness, grief. All of it came rushing back to the surface. Especially when he noticed, the rings on their fingers. They were married. Living the life he thought he'd have. After they'd ruined his life, they'd taken his dreams as their own. He wouldn't stand for it. People like them didn't deserve happiness. Without saying a thing, he jumped down from the hay loft intend on giving them a piece of his mind. He'd completely forgotten about his appearance, he was so furious with them. However, the first thing they noticed about him, was his appearance.

"Monster". The first words to leave their gaping mouths, was "Monster". He didn't know why. Maybe it had been because of his rage, or maybe because he'd come to fear the word, but. Being called a "Monster", only made him snap further. He growled and snarled inaudible words, approaching them slowly and with malice in his movements. Terrified, the pair tried to escape him. They made a move to rush for the barn door, hoping to escape that way. The end result of that, was the door falling on top of the pair and pinning them to the dusty, hay covered ground. He froze momentarily at the sight of them, held down and helpless. Utterly at his mercy.

The thought of letting them go never even entered his mind. All he wanted, was to make them suffer. To make them suffer the way he'd suffered. The pain he'd been dealt. He'd died because of them, and so they had to die by his hand. James, was the first to be dealt his punishment. Scarecrow grasped the male by his hair then proceeded to slam his head into the hard ground as he shrieked at them. He screamed the story of his suffering, death, and rebirth, at the top of his lungs. He was sure his throat had started bleeding. That the stitches lining his mouth had torn. The reality of it was that he was so caught up in the memories, he was feeling the pain all over again.

He blamed them openly for what had happened to him, and once he'd vented everything verbally, he decided to do the rest physically. He dropped James's head and left to walk around the barn. He found a crate of rusty, underused farming tools. They were dragged back to where James and Liz lie pinned beneath the door, and then he got to work. He made sure the male suffered. He started by ripping off James's fingernails with a pair of pliers, then he yanked out his teeth in a similar fashion. When he tired of the males screams, he used that same set of pliers to grasp his tongue, then he ripped the muscle clean out of his mouth. That shut him up, but Scarecrow didn't stop there.

With James silenced, Scarecrow proceeded to break him. In a literal sense. He found a small hammer, and proceeded to break the males bones with it. Blow after blow, swing after swing. He shattered the bones in James's hand, shoulders, ribs. When he couldn't break more without having to free the man, he decided to get creative. He found a sickle among the farm tools, and to his delight it was still plenty sharp despite its rusty appearance. Crazed from rage, he proceeded to skin the male alive. He started by peeling the flesh from his fingers, then moved from there. He tossed the skin and muscle elsewhere for the crows to eat as he worked.

Liz screamed and begged him to stop, but her pleas only edge him on more. He stripped James down to the bone, and when there wasn't anymore flesh to give he sat back and watched as the body stopped moving. Blood loss and trauma did it. He was, proud of what he'd manage to do with the male. The crows had also enjoyed their meal. Seemed they'd taken a liking to human flesh after only a few bites. With James dead, Scarecrow turned his attention to Liz. A different plan formed in his head at the sight of her, something considerably cruel. With a demented laugh, he lifted the barn door enough for her to crawl out from underneath it. Then, he watched as she bolted out of the barn.

Her first instinct had her running to the car in hopes of escape, but without the keys she was trapped. Terrified and knowing he was after her, she rushed to the corn field hoping to escape him. He didn't even know where she'd run off to. He'd gone to search in another direction when she ran. She could have counted herself lucky, if Ikki hadn't been perfectly aware of her location. Rather than tell her partner where the woman had gone, the crow decided to take matters into her own hands. She knew Liz had hurt Scarecrow, and she was going to get her fair share of revenge for it. She took her human shape, and used her magic to fix the combine. From there, she got it started and drove it into the corn field.

Ikki chased Liz down with the machine with the help of the other crows. The birds surrounded the woman to make her trip, then Ikki ran over her legs with the combine. Liz's legs were ripped apart faster than bacon between a dogs teeth. Content, the woman turned off the machine and waited for Scarecrow to come to their location. He was sure to hear Liz's pained shrieks and sobs, considering how quiet the cornfield typically was. The crows also helped to lead him on, and upon finding her he froze. Not in regret, or because he was having second thoughts. No, he stopped for a while because he wanted to hear her scream. He wanted to watch her wail and beg for mercy. Mercy she'd never get.

He laughed darkly as she struggled to try and crawl away from him. The pain she was in was without a doubt sheer agony, but fear kept her from passing out. When he grew tired of her voice, he stormed over to her. Her stamped a foot on her back roughly, crushing a few of her ribs from the sheer force of his blow. She coughed and gagged, spitting out blood even as he rolled her over to peer into her eyes. She looked at him, begging for mercy. He spat in her face, then ripped open her shirt and stabbed the sickle into her chest. He stared her in the face as he cut her chest cavity open. "You promised me your heart once, then tried to give it to someone else.... Now, I'm taking it!". He snarled that phrase as he cut her open.

She stared wide eyed, shocked an in pain. All life left her eyes when he reached into the gaping hole in her chest to grasp her heart. With a quick yank, he removed the beating organ and watched as her body went limp. Ikki came to stand behind him as he looked between the woman's dead body, and the heart he held in his hand. On impulse, he took a large bite out of it. Intent on devouring the organ as a final act of vengeance upon Liz. However, before he had the chance to take a second bite, Ikki slapped the heart out of his hand. He glared at her weakly, and she knelt beside him to wipe his mouth. "Trash like that will make you sick." She said affectionately, only to stiffen.

He followed her gaze, and was shocked to find the heart moving. The half eaten organ swelled, and shook. Shocked from the sight, they watch and listen as it grows. A familiar sound comes from the organ, and as they stare eventually the beak of a crow breaks through. Like an infant from a human body, the crow emerged from the bite in the heart and stumbled around a bit. There was confusion, but Ikki quickly confirmed that the crow was in fact Liz. Somehow, him eating part of her heart had revived her as a bird. A bird sworn to be completely obedient and loyal to him. From there, the pair took on a strange new, hobby. Anyone deceitful- people who betrayed their loved ones- didn't last long while in their territory.

Scarecrow discovered that he could only turn women into crows, but he didn't mind. Traitors learned the hard way what would happen if they betrayed those who trusted them. He created more crows, grew stronger and more skilled. He and Ikki loved their new job. In fact, they still do. So, be mindful now. Think twice before you betray someone. Otherwise, you never know. They just might come for you~...

~"Care to be my little crow~?"~