Come October: An Anthology of Autumnal Horror (Themed Anthologies Book 3) by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Publisher: Chthonic Matter
Published: 2023-09-30T13:30:00+00:00

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The next morning, the scare groom leans against the door, as though preparing to leave, set to return to the fields and resume his post. The thin, early morning light trickling in through the barred window above their marriage bed forces Helen to sit up so she’ll get a better look at her partner. Viewed in this dimness, there’s no way to be sure: is he standing there, waiting, hesitating, or is he no more than straw, stuffing, and rags, propped up to frighten birds?

The wide spherical pearl twists and the door’s hinges draw in a screeching breath. Letting the bedsheets fall from her body, Helen crosses to the door and loops her arm around the scare groom’s bulging midsection. She presses a warm cheek to his feed-sack visage. “Come back to bed,” she says, pulling him from the door and leaving the knob tilted at an angle from the other side.

Helen turns her back to the steady, patient exhalations in the hallway. As though the breather’s mouth sits not far from the keyhole.

The scare groom moves with his bride. Swept off feet he lacks. If his naked escort, returning him to the confines of a bed perfumed in sweat and sex and straw, remains as frightened as she was before the consummation, then she’s managed to press it down until her eyes become the becalmed surfaces of twin ponds and her smile’s a flat, impoverished assembly of lines and shadows.

When the door opens, they leave together—bride and groom. The Ladies’ Council stands in the hallway, heads down, hiding rosy cheeks and eyes tilted to the heavens, exalting their new Harvest Bride for fulfilling her sacred duties. Someone hands Helen a long blue farm dress, the hem traveling to her ankles and buttons extending up to her chest. Another reaches for the scare groom’s hand, prepared to take him away. The way it’s always done.

But Helen won’t relinquish her groom. “He stays with me,” she says.

There’s no argument to counter. Her words have an icy sharpness, setting the Council back on their heels. She’s dark storm clouds and heavy rain on an otherwise warm and pleasant day.

Sonya stands apart from the others, waiting by the stairs. She nods, letting her fellow council members know it’s okay. If Helen wants to hold the old scarecrow’s hand and keep him by her side, then who’re they to tell a young bride no.

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