Dusk had already tinted the sky red and violet by the time Ramlal and Deepak arrived at the house. Too silent, too quiet, a thick hush hung over the field. Even the crows did not fly in circles.
There was no sign of the scarecrow returning to its place.
Ramlal tightened his hold on the sickle.
They walked over to the old well at the field's edge. Its stone walls were crawling with moss. The wooden cover appeared to be fractured, but it was still in place. As if there had been an internal push.
Dropping to his knees, Deepak started to pull off the lid. The timber was easily splintered.
The blackness yawned beneath it.
Slowly, Ramlal lowered the lamp, illuminating old, corroded iron supports and slippery stones.Something older—something that didn't belong—and a horrible, decaying smell filled the air that rose.
"A ladder is present," Deepak declared. "Seems stable."
Without saying anything, he went down. Ramlal came next.
The light behind them dimmed as they descended into the well. The stones expanded into a small room dug into the ground thirty feet below. This area had long before been dug out by someone.
A slab of stone stood in the middle.
It was old, round, and engraved with meanings that none of them could decipher. Its surface was ringed with ancient, dried blood.
Ramlal walked toward it, panting. "That's it," he muttered. "The seal."
After setting the wooden box on the stone, Deepak started to open it once more.The temperature fell when the last of the fabric was unfolded. Their lamp's oil flickered.
Then they heard it.
Inhaling.
Slow. damp. intestinal.
from behind the fortifications.
Deepak whirled around. "We have something in here."
Ramlal approached the slab while holding up the sickle. Assist me in lifting it. We have to look underneath.
They pressed together. The stone moaned but remained in place. Then there was a crack—a piece of it moved enough to show a hollow underneath.
Bones were inside.
Not only human, though. The skeleton contorted as though it had too many joints. a wider jaw than was appropriate. Additionally, a piece of red thread that was imbedded in the bone itself was wrapped around its ribs.Deepak staggered back. "This isn't human."
Ramlal gaped in dismay. It's the seed. The curse itself. The scarecrow was designed to keep this in place.
"Too late," a piercing voice hissed in the shadows.
The lantern was extinguished when a wind blew from the entrance of the well above them.
darkness.
Then—action.
Something quickly and scrapingly crawled down the walls. The sound of stone and straw in contact. There was a moist crack and a low snarl that reverberated around the room.
yelled Ramlal, "It's here! "The scarecrow!"
Deepak struggled to light the oil lamp again, but the match would not catch.
Two crimson spots emerged—eyes—from the shadows. They gave one blink.
Then he lunged.
Blindly, Ramlal swung the sickle.
Something shrieked as the sword struck it, a terrible sound akin to air exiting a broken neck. With a scattering of straw, the beast sank back.
At last, the lamp came on. They saw it in its radiance—a twisted scarecrow, bigger now, arms longer, straw blood-blackened. Its face isn't a sack anymore. It was able to speak. sewn closed. but in motion.
Deepak picked up the oil lamp and hurled it in front of him.
A portion of the creature's straw frame caught fire when the flame struck its chest.
It shrieked once again, flinching but not going down.
Ramlal looked over at the seal. "Blood," the elderly man said. We have to rebind it.
Pulling his knife out, he cut his palm and pushed it against the bones under the slab.
There was a slight shimmer to the red thread.
The scarecrow sprang forward.
Grabbing the sickle, Deepak cut at its legs. "Be quick!"
The old guy taught Ramlal the phrases, which he chanted. They felt ancient, but he had no idea what they signified. False. heavy.
The bones started to shake. The ribcage was more tightly wound with the thread. Below them, the floor cracked.
A whirlpool of wind sprang forth from the earth.
Convulsing, the scarecrow yelled louder. Straw was tearing away in charred bits as its body twisted.
Then there was silence.
It fell apart.
Still.
Like a snake, the red thread wound itself around it. and dragged it back under the slab of stone.
The seal shut.
The wind also ceased.
They remained still for a long time. just took a breath. Startled. Weary.
In a whisper, Deepak asked, "Is it... over?"
Ramlal remained silent.His hand spilled blood all over the floor. The red thread was no longer there. The bones have vanished.
Slowly, he raised his gaze.
He declared, "The door is closed." "But not indefinitely."