I hadn’t known.
How enormous and overwhelming the talk show set looked from the viewpoint of a stuffed doll small enough to fit in a palm.
What kind of pressure it created when everything was unnaturally huge, while I couldn’t blink even once or struggle even once.
Especially.
If, right beside me, casting an enormous shadow, there stood that bizarre host with a TV for a head instead of one.
That vivid voice….
Then let us welcome today’s guest!
‘~~!’
It became a vibration that shook the stuffing inside me.
But whatever situation I might be in, the talk show went on.
‘The guest….’
The old-fashioned bulb lights flashed, and the door opened.
The grotesque Ghost Story I had suggested during a meeting, which had been accepted as “a very good idea,” opened the door, came in, and sat in the guest seat.
More precisely, a staff member carried the guest in and made it lean slanted against the guest seat.
Because it was something human-shaped made out of wooden sticks.
The Red Scarecrow!
Its head was wrapped in cloth, with something like a person’s eyes, nose, and mouth scrawled across it in rough strokes with a red marker.
Even that had run in the rain, making it look all the more grotesque.
A monster that lured people astray in a cornfield as vast as a city, made them lose their way, and when night came, turned into a monster and hunted them down one by one until they disappeared.
That chilling Ghost Story I had recommended because it was a Darkness Exploration Record based on a famous American Ghost Story,…