◍ Cursed Pumpkin Patch ◍

From the moment she entered the pumpkin patch, Clementine knew something was wrong.

She was at a farm just outside of Clover Town on a mission to pick pumpkins. Farmers all over Fiore had been sending out and putting up flyers to ask for help with the harvest. The young woman had found one stuck to a support beam of a bar in one of the villages below Mt. Hakobe. It was a vibrant orange, and although Clem liked the color, the design was god-awful. A mixture of flamboyant fonts and cheesy wording made the thing nearly unreadable. She had still decided to go anyway, as it was an adventure she hadn’t been on before. Living in Neutral Grounds, she knew what pumpkins and Halloween were, but seeing them in person was something she had yet to experience. Thus, she had traveled to Clover Town, leaving early so she could explore the place before arriving at the farm.

Ah, the pumpkin patch. Stretching out before Clem was row after row of the orange orbs growing from thick green stems. Some looked in pristine condition while others had blotches of yellow or green. Some even were partially eaten, likely by wild animals. The place felt entirely creepy though. It was nearing dusk and completely silent, save for the ominous cawing of crows in the distance. A shiver went down Clem’s back. The painter liked watching horror movies but hated being in spooky situations in real life. “Time to collect these pumpkins and get the hell out of here,” Clem muttered to herself. She started walking up one of the rows, looking at all the pumpkins and picking a few. She placed them on the lacrima-powered cart that the farmer had given her. It was a fascinating object and many minutes had been spent looking it over in awe.

As Clem went to place a pumpkin on her cart, she heard the faint fluttering of wings. Looking up, she noticed a crow dive-bombing her just in time to duck out of its way. The sharp talons on its feet managed to scrape the side of her head. Blood began to seep from the wound, dripping behind her ear. “What the fuck, bird?” she yelled at it. Mocking caws echoed around the field as the bird circled above her. The bird dove at her again, but she dodged it. Clem noticed a broken pumpkin on the ground and picked up a chunk of it, chucking it at the feathered tormentor in the sky. It flew with surprising accuracy and smacked the bird square in the chest. The crow let out a squawk of pain and spiraled down in the air for a moment before coming to its senses. Clem laughed from below. “That’s what you get, bastard!” she called after the retreating bird before returning to her pumpkin picking.

It wasn’t long before she heard a strange noise, and soon recognized it as the flapping of many wings. Turning around in movie-like slow motion, Clem was greeted by the sight of the sky turning black. It wasn’t nighttime yet, no - it was the bodies of hundreds of crows rising up from the distant trees. They swarmed together as they made a beeline for the dark mage, caws growing in volume.

“Shit!” Clem hissed, dropping the pumpkin in her hands onto the cart before taking off her backpack and crouching down to unzip it and reach within. From the bag she withdrew two spray paint cans, giving them a flip in each hand. She stood up and held out the cans. Pointer fingers pressed down to release the magical paint inside. It formed into a glowing rainbow orb before Clem, taking a few seconds to grow in size. The orb then consumed the woman in its protective grasp. It was a quick solution to the cloud of birds, but she would need something else to fend them off.

Black feathered bodies began to bounce off the shield as the crows threw themselves angrily at it. Clem’s mind rushed to think of another spell she could use to fight them once they broke the shield. Within seconds, beaks began to puncture the paint ball. Clem held up both paint cans in preparation. A sizzling sound signified the disappearance of her shield. The crows came barreling in, only to be met with a wave of red paint that danced like fire. Squawks of pain echoed around the field as the majority of the birds were burnt in the fiery paint. The remaining few flew into the distance, cawing their complaints and insults as they went.

“Good riddance,” Clem grumbled, picking up another pumpkin and putting it on her cart. She noticed a feather by her feet moving all on its own. There was no breeze. “Well that’s creepy as all hell,” the painter said simply as she watched it move towards a pile of crow remains. Before her eyes, the pile stacked up, higher and higher until it formed a body. Limbs protruded from the mass one after the other, followed swiftly by a head. On the end formed a massive black beak and then a dark, beady eye on either side. The eye stared deep into Clem’s eyes as she started to stumble backwards. The crow-beast let off a fearsome guttural cry that shook the woman to her core.

Without a second thought, she turned and ran farther into the pumpkin patch. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Clem could hear the footsteps of the crow-thing gaining on her. She was nearing the middle of the field, where a scarecrow sat attached to a pole. When she reached it, the woman turned mid step and raised her spray paint cans up, releasing a stream of orange paint. The liquid fell to the ground and created a puddle of orange sludge that caught the crow-beast’s legs. The creature let out an inhuman scream and tried to fly away, but the liquid held it captive and slowed every movement.

Clem stopped and turned back to the slowed creature. She grabbed up a pumpkin from the nearest vine and tossed it up and down in her hand. “You’re gonna get it,” she snarled, then used the strength granted to her by the spray paint cans to huck the pumpkin at the creature. It smashed into the crow’s chest at breakneck speed, shattering into little pieces at the impact. Clem continued to heave pumpkins at the beast as it moved slowly through the orange paint sludge towards her. Each hit made the creature cry out in pain. At last it reached the edge of the sludge and took a step out to attack Clem, but was met with a kick square to the face from the woman. She landed a few more hits before downing the creature, where she kicked it a few more times to make sure it was dead.

Clem stood for a few minutes, regaining her breath and trying to calm down. She turned to observe the scarecrow with a scowl on her face. “You’re doin’ a shitty job of keeping crows away, bro,” she chastised the figure. In seconds she felt a cold blade pressing against her neck. The scarecrow opened its glowing eyes and leaned forward. “Is that so?”

“Damnit,” Clem swore, freezing in place. “I-I was kiddin’?” She gave a faint, sheepish shrug, then ducked out of the way of the scythe. It grazed her neck and blood started to flow down. Clem raised a hand to press on the wound then glanced at her crimson-stained fingers. “Better not be gettin’ blood on my favorite jacket!” she said with a groan. With a flick of her wrist, the remaining orange sludge condensed around the scarecrow’s feet - or where its feet should be. It looked like just pegs. The creature’s movements slowed, but it still made a beeline for the woman. Another swing of the scythe just barely missed Clem. She backed up a bit and retrieved her paint cans from her belt. With a shake each, she let loose a stream of purple paint. It fell to the ground and sprouted into a field of purple flowers that surrounded her feet. These flowers would boost the damage done by her spells.

The scarecrow began to charge, but stopped and looked around. Clem followed its gaze warily. What was it looking for? Slowly, a low-hanging mist began to flow from the rows of pumpkins. It kept low to the ground but surrounded the feet of the two beings. From the shadows and mist came a figure, its swaying causing the chains at its waist to clank eerily in the silence. Instead of a head, it had a rotting jack-o-lantern. The musty holes in the pumpkin moved just as a face would. It let out a laugh and Clem felt a chill go down her spine. “Mr. Scarecrow, surely you won’t be bested by this little human?” it asked in a reedy voice.

“Of course not, Pumpkin King,” the scarecrow growled in reply. Without looking, the King wandered into the area of the orange paint sludge, his steps slowing drastically. He looked down, then back up at Clem with a furious glare. The painter was becoming nervous. Could she really take on two beasts at once?

“Magenta! I need your help!” she called out into the darkness. Her two enemies looked at each other in confusion. One of her paint cans began to rumble, then from within erupted a ghostly Chinese dragon that looked to be made of paint. The massive creature floated around Clem in protective circles. “Now what do we have here?” he questioned, the deep rumble of his voice echoing across the field. Clem felt relieved that her friend had arrived and more confident about the battle at hand.

The Pumpkin King let out another laugh, then motioned to his ally and charged the woman and dragon. Magenta let off a threatening growl. Clem once more raised her paint cans and let forth another spray of red paint. The familiar flames hit both enemies at once, burning them in a chromatic fire. Magenta flew towards the scarecrow, letting off an angry roar. Clem headed towards the King, grabbing up pumpkins as she went. She launched them at the ghastly being one after one. Most were slashed away by the king, but some landed and knocked him back. Clem attached the cans to her belt and raised her fists, beginning to throw punches at the King. Every attack that made contact was met by the uncomfortable squish of rotting pumpkin flesh. There were a few moments where Clem nearly threw up out of disgust.

The Pumpkin King lashed out at Clem, his claws scraping her chest and sending her flying back. She skidded down the row of pumpkins and came to a stop by the pile of feathers and flesh that was the remains of the crow-beast. The King came storming after her, his devilish grin growing wider. Clem withdrew the giant crow’s beak from the gruesome pile, shaking it off. She stood, facing the oncoming King. Her other hand reached to her belt to remove one of the cans. From within the can she sprayed a vibrant yellow paint that formed into an orb. The orb glowed brighter and brighter until the King stopped in his tracks, raising his chained arms and attempting to shield his pumpkin eyes. Alas, it was no use. The light blinded him and burned away his rotting skin. Clem put the can back on her belt and rushed in while he was distracted. She leapt into the air with both hands clutching the crow's beak like a dagger. As she fell, the woman plunged it deep into the King’s chest. A horrifying howl escaped him as he perished.

Clem stood with a foot on his rotting chest for a moment, then reached down and removed the crow’s beak from the gross body. Again, she nearly barfed at the sound and smell of expired pumpkin. The painter turned to see how Magenta was faring. The massive dragon had managed to wrap the scarecrow up with his long body. The enemy had large bite marks in his straw-made body and was missing one peg leg. One hand was free and still held the scythe. Mr. Scarecrow hacked away at the dragon’s paint body, leaving long grooves in the scales where even more paint dripped out. Magenta grunted in pain but didn’t move from his wrapped state. Clem mustered all the strength her magic was giving her and drew her arm back with the crow’s beak in hand. She pitched it straight at the scarecrow with scary accuracy, the beak’s momentum driving it straight into the scarecrow’s heart. The heart turned out to be a spirit lacrima and shattered with the impact.

Clem let out a sigh of relief and sat roughly on the ground, feeling exhausted and worn from her unexpected battles. More magic power had been used today than had been in a while. Magenta flew to her side and pressed his ethereal body against her side. All the remains of her paint spells had begun to fade, leaving only the liquid to stain the pumpkins and field. Most of the crop had been destroyed in the battle, but the cart somehow still stood untouched by the entrance. Clem got up and slowly walked back to the edge of the field, Magenta at her side. Upon reaching the cart, she pushed it back out of the field and to the farmer’s barn, where she left it alone.

“Man, what a fuckin’ day,” she groaned. “What kinda farmer sends a person out into that kind of place, let alone owns a field full of beasties?” Magenta gave a shrug, or what could possibly be perceived as a dragon shrug. “Who knows, Clem. Some people are really messed up.”

“You got that right,” she huffed. One last time she removed her spray paint cans from her belt, but not to use magic this time. She spent a few minutes tagging the side of the barn before stepping back to look proudly at her work. Upon the side of the barn was a painting of a giant hand with its middle finger up. It was a fitting message to the farmer, who ought to have his field de-spiritized by exterminators before inviting strangers in. Clem gave an approving nod before wiping her hands off and making her way off the farmland. She had earned herself a beer in Clover Town after what she had been through.