Do you like scary stories? How about monsters and things that go bump in the night? If you do, then I have the collection for you. This is an anthology of short scary stories, all of which are original; with more being added as time goes on. If you...
When fall came upon the village of Morne, its people stayed inside. No one spoke of why this was the case only that it had started as a matter of survival before becoming a tradition. Outsiders who passed through Morne thought this was a case of superstition before moving on. Those few outsiders who decided to stay were a different matter entirely.
Mary had come to Morne because her parents had gone away on a trip to some far away country. They left her in the care of her grandmother, an old lady who forgot things from time to time but was very sweet otherwise.
Mary's Grandmother showed her around Morne and Mary liked the town well enough. It was small and didn't have much in the way of entertainment however. This happened in summer, before the arrival of the first yellow leaf.
When that day came, everyone in Morne began to act differently. They grew suspicious of the trees, casting uneasy glances towards their full branches. They checked their weathervanes and spoke in hushed whispers of the wind.
Mary had no idea why the town seemed so afraid, so she asked her grandmother.
Her grandmother said, "The wind used to bring good tidings to our little village, but one day, a sickness came on the breeze. With it, the land changed. The founders of Morne believed that they had angered the Earth with their building and sought forgiveness. The ancient spirit listened to them, and decided to only unleash its wrath during the fall."
"But why?" Mary asked.
Her grandmother gave her a smile. "Who knows? The spirits are an odd bunch and don't usually give their reasons. But I think that it was a spirit of a Comanche chief who wanted revenge upon the white men that stole the land from his tribe." And she would say the last bit by raising her voice, scaring Mary senseless.
But then, her grandmother would feel bad. "But don't you worry about that." She told Mary. "Stories are just stories. They aren't real."
"If they're not real, though, then why does the village act like they are?"
Children are often very good at asking difficult questions and Mary was no different in that regard. However, her grandmother was a clever woman, despite her slipping mind. She said, "Because it is a game to them. Everyone plays it."
"Do they win anything?" Mary asked.
Her grandmother only smiled and said, "I suppose you will have to wait and see, won't you?"
And then her grandmother would make Mary promise to never go outside, except with her, while it was Fall in Morne. She said that if she did go outside, she would lose the game, and that wouldn't be good. Mary did as she was told but half wondered why adults would play such a strange game. She felt that her grandmother might be lying to her but decided to not think about it. After all, her grandmother was sweet and kind and very much how grandmothers were supposed to be.
She played with her grandmother's dog, Rook, while they would spend time in doors and on the rare occasion they went outside, she did the same in their backyard. Her grandmother had a strange yard. It was shockingly clean. Not a single leaf could be seen in it. In fact, the trees around it had been cut down. Her yard wasn't the only one like this though. Everyone in Morne stayed far away from the leaves. As far away as they reasonably could, at least.
When the weathervanes signaled wind, Rook and Mary were quickly brought into the nearest building. She would watch through the windows and see the leaves blow here and there, but nothing seemed to happen. She couldn't understand why the people of Morne were afraid.
But then, one day, when Mary was playing in the yard, Rook fled to the woods. Mary's grandmother had told her never to go into the woods, but she couldn't see the harm in it, and if Rook was lost, she could never forgive herself.
Mary ran into the red and yellow woods, calling and calling for Rook. She went deep into those white trunks but Rook was nowhere to be seen. The sun was beginning to fall when she felt a slight breeze. Mary's heart skipped a beat. A slight stab of fear pricked her heart. What would happen now? She watched, and waited, and though the leaves stirred only a little, nothing happened.
She was slightly sad that nothing happened and started walking back home. She was also sad that they hadn't found Rook though she had called for him most of that afternoon. Along the way back to her Grandmother's house, a single leaf fell from the tree, grazing her cheek. The leaf tickled slightly, but other than that, didn't bother her.
When she made it back to the yard, her grandmother ran out of the house, frantic. She was almost screaming at Mary. Mary was confused, but listened to her grandmother and went back inside. Her grandmother left to get something from her bedroom.
Mary looked out the window while she waited. Rook came bounding in from the woods, moments later, tail wagging. Mary smiled. Silly dog! All that looking and here he was, coming back home.
But then she saw the trees shake from the wind. Leaves fell, swirling on the breeze. They looked so pretty, like a fire, Mary thought. As they approached Rook in a red and yellow cloud, she thought the dog would start playing.
He howled instead.
The leaves swirled around him like a blender. A moment later, the dog turned into a red mist. No bone or skin was left. The leaves then blew away just as quickly as they had come.
Mary couldn't move. As she realized what had happened to Rook. Her cheek itched.
She went to scratch it, but her fingers came back with blood.
A leaf had brushed her cheek, hadn't it? But it wasn't an ordinary leaf. This leaf was as sharp as any blade. She began to shake as her grandmother came back into the room with some gauze for her cut. Mary couldn't take her eyes off where Rook had been, and the red mist that was quickly dissolving into the air.
"There, there, dear. Grandma is sorry for yelling." She said with a smile. "Maybe Rook will be coming back. Won't that be nice?"
But all Mary did was scream.
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