A haunting scarecrow standing in the middle of a desolate, windswept field at dusk. Its tattered, straw-filled body is clothed in a ragged, old flannel shirt and torn pants, with straw poking out from every seam. The scarecrow's head is a weathered burlap sack, with crudely stitched eyes and a twisted, sinister grin. Its long, wooden arms stretch out from a wooden post, with scraps of fabric fluttering in the cold wind. Crows circle ominously above, silhouetted against the blood-red sky, as the setting sun casts long shadows across the field. The atmosphere is eerie and unsettling, with a sense of foreboding hanging in the air.

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