The Sound of Autumn
The porch lights winked out at nine sharp. Elias loved the sudden, complete darkness. He stepped onto the wet sidewalk, his boots sinking into a massive pile of fallen maple leaves.
Crunch. Crunch. SNAP.
It wasn't the sound of dried foliage breaking. It sounded thin, like shattered glass, or maybe tiny bones.
He paused. The pile shifted, not from wind, but from pressure underneath. Elias watched, paralyzed, as a single, glowing emerald-green eye opened between the damp, orange layers, reflecting the moon. It was followed by a soft, wet clicking sound.
The entire heap of leaves began to slide toward him, crunching its strange, skeletal way across the asphalt. Elias dropped his candy bag and ran, the sound of a thousand tiny, hungry crunches pursuing him down the street.
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