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Hello! My name is Ivy and I am the book blogger behind Ivy Reads. Ivy Reads was opened on November 8, 2010.

I am a college student reading YA Fiction and some Fiction. I am an avid reader and is known as a bookworm.
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YA Spooktacular: The Corn Stalker
This post has been sorted into "Blog Tour" • 7 Comments

Welcome to another stop for the second annual YASpooktacular, hosted by Frenzy of Noise and Wicked Awesome Books.

This year, there are three stories written by some of your favorite authors that will be posted throughout the week. Each story is a choose your adventure, where you get to decide what path to send the character down. Sometimes you live, sometimes you die, and sometimes you fall into a pit of no return.

There are also some TRICKS or TREATS scattered throughout the story, where you can enter to win prizes and get bonus points toward the prize packs. The prize pack for #3 will be up tomorrow! On Halloween day, the grand prize pack will be posted. You can click the banner above to see a full list of the YASpooktacular prize packs!


I shrugged off Kara’s arm, nodding to myself. I’ve seen enough horror movies, and this was just a like a movie. Somehow, the thought brought me calm. And they say desensitization is bad. It just might keep us alive.

“Yeah,” I said, pitching my voice low. “We’re here. What’s your name?”

“Anne,” the girl whimpered. “He just…Adam…” Each word was punctured by a choking sob, and a moment’s hesitation where her body decided whether or not to purge.

“Josh, come on!” Kara said again, grabbing my arm again in a clawed grip. Her voice was getting louder now, a single note of hysteria humming an undercurrent.

“We have to help her!”

“No, we have to help ourselves,” she snapped back.

“Quick, Anne. Hurry.” I whispered again, my attention on the girl. She pushed through the row of corn, her panting coming faster and faster. She emerged on the other side, blood staining only one of her hands, spatter on her dress.

“Shh,” Kara demanded, roughly grabbing the girl around the mouth. With her free hand, she pointed. A flash of orange, streaking through the lines of corn. The Corn Stalker. Jesus, I couldn’t believe this was real.

Go, I mouthed to Kara. Slowly, we started backing away. The flash of orange kept closing in – but if the girl had pushed her way through the corn, so could he.

We had to get away. Find our way back to the entrance and escape. All the exits couldn’t be blocked, right? It was a field, and those don’t come with walls, or locks.

When the sickle started running across the top of the corn stalks, like fingers running through hair, the three of us froze. It was almost like the man was thinking. Considering.

“Josh,” Kara whispered, as lightly as she could. She pointed.

The girl’s eyes were showing white all around, and her breathing was getting faster and louder by the second.

“If you scream,” I whispered quietly, “he’s going to find us.”

The girl’s eyes showed surprise, but she nodded. A moment of calm descends upon all three of us, and we watch, and wait, every sound masked by the back and forth snick-whish of the sickle against the tips of the stalks.

A calm that shatters with one swing of the weapon, shearing through nearly a foot of corn, and revealing a sullen orange glare from the other path. A glare that washed out the man on the other side, the Corn Stalker.

The girl screamed, pulled away from Kara and ran towards the exit and takes the left path. Kara was right behind her though, but where the other girl went left, Kara runs right.

I’m frozen, staring into the light, until both it and the sickle vanish. Heavy footsteps rumble on all around me in stereo, like a giant was running through the maze instead of a man. No one sounds that loud, I thought.

But then there’s a scream. A girl’s scream. Close. Just one piercing, discordant note that hangs on autumn air for five seconds too long. And then it cuts off abruptly. The moment her screaming stopped, the corn maze plunged into silence. Kara could be hurt. That could have been her. Or maybe the other girl. Anne. What was I supposed to do?

The scream was followed by a chuckle. A horrible, guttural sound, both pleased and somehow relaxed. It carried over our heads, soaking into every inch of the maze. He was having fun.

If I should run after Kara, go to The Book Scoop.

If I should run after Anne, go to The Fable Faerie.

Scott Tracey lived on a Greyhound for a month, wrote his illustrated autobiography at the age of six, and barely survived Catholic school (and definitely not for the reasons you might think).
His career highlights include: accidentally tripping a panic alarm and nearly being shot by the police, being attacked in a drive-thru window by a woman wielding a baked potato, and sending the health department after his (very brief) place of employment.
His gifts can be used for good or evil, but rather than picking a side, he strives for BOTH (in alternating capacity) for his own amusement.

You can find Scott on Twitter, on his blog, on Goodreads.  You can order his books on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and the Book Depository.

Leave a comment on every piece of the story that you read and then put your information here. Each person who completes the challenge will receive ONE EXTRA POINT into the GRAND PRIZE PACK giveaway, which will post on Halloween.

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