Autumn Short Stories

Cemetery at Dusk

The fall air in Woodstock, Vermont, was crisp and cool, the kind that promised chilly nights and warm, cozy mornings. Tessa had always loved autumn, and after months of city life, the small town felt like the fresh start she had been searching for. The streets, lined with brick houses and narrow roads, were quiet in that peaceful, almost haunted way that small towns could be. There was something about Woodstock—the town had an aura that felt timeless, as though it had secrets it wasn't ready to share.

Tessa had arrived with Damian, her boyfriend, a few days before, and they had settled into a charming old house on the outskirts of town, nestled between tall trees and surrounded by acres of wild, untamed land. The house, with its creaky floors and ivy-covered brick, felt like it had been waiting for them. But it was also different—there was an energy in the air, like a whisper just out of earshot, something that tugged at her every time she walked past the windows overlooking the old cemetery behind the house.

"It's beautiful here, don't you think?" Tessa asked, her voice soft as she gazed out the living room window, her fingers tracing the fogged glass.

Damian, sitting on the couch with his feet propped up, didn't look up from his phone. "Yeah, sure. A bit too quiet for my taste, but it'll do. It's not like we're staying forever."

Tessa smiled to herself, the weight of his indifference rolling off her. She wasn't sure why she felt so drawn to the town, but she could feel something beckoning her. There was a deep-rooted feeling that she belonged here, even if she couldn't explain it.

Her best friend Hestia, a fiery spirit with an aura of warmth and protection, had always been the opposite of Tessa—practical, no-nonsense, and never one to entertain the supernatural. But when she'd heard about Tessa's move to Woodstock, Hestia had insisted on visiting. She arrived with Tobias, her boyfriend, who was just as mysterious as she was, and Tessa couldn't help but feel like there was more to their visit than a simple weekend getaway.

As soon as they arrived, Hestia threw her arms around Tessa. "This place feels... different. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something in the air."

"You too?" Tessa asked, surprised.

Hestia nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly as she gazed around the room. Tobias was quiet as always, leaning against the doorframe, his dark eyes scanning the house as though measuring its every detail.

"I'm not one to believe in fate," Hestia continued, her tone suddenly serious, "but this place... it feels like it's pulling you."

"I know," Tessa said, her voice barely a whisper. "I've felt it too."

That evening, after a quiet dinner in the living room, the group ventured out for a walk, eager to explore the town. The narrow streets of Woodstock were lined with maple trees that had begun to turn vibrant red and orange, and the air had that earthy scent of fallen leaves. As they walked, Tessa couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching her. It wasn't an outward threat, but more of an invisible presence—a whispering sensation at the back of her mind.

Their path led them to the town's old cemetery, perched on a hill at the edge of town. The gravestones were ancient, worn with time, and some were almost hidden beneath thick vines and ivy. The cemetery was quiet, almost unnaturally so, the only sound being the rustling of the trees in the cool wind.