Melody. Gloucester. Pegasus.

The Haunting of Autumn

Published on October 31, 2024

text

It was a crisp autumn afternoon when the whispers first began. At first, they seemed like the rustle of leaves. But as the wind died, the voices remained...

By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, the voices had grown louder. There was no denying their presence now—an eerie, melodic murmur...

As darkness fell, the whispers turned to wails. No one could ignore them anymore. Were they warnings? Or something far worse?

Author's Notes

This story was inspired by my walks in the woods during autumn. The way the leaves fall and the wind whistles through the branches always makes me wonder about unseen forces at play.

← Back to Stories