A blue mist settles deep in the woods, where not a sound can be heard. The earth dares not speak or make a noise, for lying in the dark is an old cemetery. A simple plot of land owned by no one, yet so much meaning has been placed here. Its rusted black gates give out a screech when the wind comes bustling through and the shadows of are painted on the ground. Gravestones mark where the dead have gone to rest. The cold ground where many have come to find their final home. A young man waits patiently for the time where he may walk upon the earth again.

The nights grew longer as the autumn winds blew. The earth grows colder by each passing moon. The sun is fading, no one knows why and many of the old ways return merely as whispers, to remind us of times long forgotten deep in the shrouds of the past. Samhain came to the calling, where the wolves began to howl and a little village had gone silent. No one is out, all the shutters are closed. Not a peep can be heard from this little village. All the animals are locked up tight, for when sunset came was when unholy things began.

There in the night as the day began to fade, the lines between this world and the next started to blend together. The cemetery started to stir, soft noises began cooing like that of an evening dove. For as the sun began to set he could feel his spirit start to rise. Samhain had begun.

He had lain in the cold, hard ground for many years waiting and hoping for the one special night where he would once again emerge into the once beautiful world that he had known. He had been eager to return. He was tired of lying under the ground when all the excitement was up above. But, now he could sense something was different. The pressure that once had kept him in his black oak coffin was no longer holding him down. It had vanished, as did the feelings of sorrow from being confined to the hollow earth.

He lifted his hands and pushed himself to greater heights. He gave out a glorious moan and with a stretch of his ghostly form, he opened his eyes to the world where he had once found so much joy. He could once more feel the fresh and misty air on his face. The night air was crisp and cold. As he looked around, he saw that others were also rising from their graves. The cemetery was alive and for the first time in quite some time, it was brightly lit by the souls that would return for that one night. Free to roam the earth as if they had never left.

He touched the ground with his feet, it felt strange to him. He was not living yet, he did not sink through the ground. He smiled and walked on the dirt path leading to the large black gate of the cemetery. He followed the bright glow of spirits that made their way to the gate and out to the world that they had not seen in what felt like centuries.

As he walked the path to where the small village lay, he noticed that the world may look and feel familiar to him but, it had lost the color he had remembered it having. The world had taken on more of a darker shade of gray. Light and color was lost to him. The brightness he used to be able to see was gone.  But, he was not here to mourn the loss of color. He was here for one purpose and one purpose alone. He had limited time, for Samhain was only one night, and when that time was done, he would return back to the prison that he hated so much.

He was here for her. He wanted to see her, it was important to him. She was his beacon that was guiding him ever closer to his home. Eventually, the dirt path came to an overpass, and the delightful smell of witch-hazel vine. The vine was covered in the little blue flowers that only bloomed during the fall and was said to be one of the rarest and most beautiful flowers during this time of year. The dirt path ended and was replaced with a cobblestone path that traveled through this new area a short way before branching off in two different directions. One lead upwards nearer to the village and the other lead to the work area where the men would chop wood and gathers necessities before the winter. He chose neither.

His path leads him straight past the hidden trails of his childhood and onwards to the small village that he had called home for so many years. He had found what most had found to be only a dream, “true love” for when it is true it can pass through life and continue even into death. He was dead, yet he still loved with every shallow breath that he had. He eyes were adjusting to their new view and he could see all the twists and turns of the road. It reminded him of how much he had loved living in this small and forgotten little village. Their life was their own here. No neighboring villages, no outsiders telling them how to live or what to believe. In a word “peaceful”.

The winds blew cold and the night sky was dark. The orange mist summoned Samhain, beckoning forth all those whom had returned that forbidding night. Thoughts were wild with anticipation as all waited and wondered of what this night would bring. The dark twisted trees, stood fast against the howling of the wind and the darkness grew ever more tightly around them. He could feel the same sense of dread that he had when he was alive. The reason why, when this night of all nights came, all locked themselves inside.

As the spirits reached the village, he could hear awful moaning. Many could not return home for something terrible blocked their way. There, shrouded in the mist, were wicked faces that glowed with an unwholesome light. As old family members got closer to their houses, they found that a barrier had been placed to prevent their entrance.

For though they may be spirits even they could still feel that lonesome and frightful feeling of fear. The wicked face grinned with mockery and instilled a sense of terror in the spirits of old. Many turned away with great sadness, not daring to face the fearsome creatures that beheld that door. Some grew angry, and tried to force their way passed mocking faces, but to their dismay the moment they crossed the threshold they disappeared with a terrible scream and no spirit saw them again.

He prayed within his own soul that there would not be one of those faces at his door, that he may enter and see his beloved. The moans and screams cut deeply into his ghostly form. Making even him, a mere ghost, afraid of what may lie ahead. He was already tormented by the past. He wished and longed for the chance to return to his worldly body. To feel, and breathe once more the autumn air. To not feel the fear that rose in him now. For in his worldly body he had so much and for him there was nothing to fear, not when his loved ones were so close in hand.

He turned away from the screaming and the moaning. He tried his best to tune it out. Fear was not what he needed to pay attention to. He closed his eyes and pictured her once more. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death” he murmured. A slight smile came to his ghostly lips, for he was already in the valley of death. But, the verse still did what it had always done. He felt stronger and less afraid.

His eyes straight forward, he continued down the pathway. He did not pay attention to what was going on around him. He was focused on what was ahead. In the distance was a lovely, slightly larger house that sat on top of a hill. This house was set apart from all the others as if it spoke to its own importance. That house was were his beloved lived. He knew the way, he had walked that path so many times that he could never forget even a single step.

The house was made from black oak trees, which were very rare in the area they lived in. The black oak made the house look old and dark but, when the light hit the house just right it made the house look glorious. The black frame stood out against the fall leaves and the cold, bitter winds of night. Every step that he took brought him closer and closer to this magnificent home and the warmth he knew was kindled inside it.

As he drew closer he saw the stone carving of the black timber wolves that stood as a gateway to the house. The timber wolves were a sign of protection for the home. Timber wolves were never seen, yet, always heard. The small village believed that these mystical creatures protected not only every home but the village as well. As he passed through the statues, he looked at them fondly.  It gave him a sense of peace to know the house was still protected even though he was not there.

He made his way to the porch, and to his dismay he saw a faint glow coming from the darkness. As he came closer he saw the face he dreaded to see: a creepy and even spooky face carved into a pumpkin. The face grinned that evil and mocking smile that reminded him of the fears that he could still feel. For a brief moment he almost lost hope. He could not enter the home through the front. That creature would send him back to his prison or worse and that was a chance that he was not willing to take.

So, he did the next best thing, he walked round the back of the old house and with a thought he floated up to the second-floor window. This window was not too big and not too small. It had the perfect view out of all the windows in this house, for it overlooked the woods. She loved the woods. She had always said that in some strange way she felt like the woods called to her. Of course, to most this would have been considered crazy, but not to him.

He peered through the window and he saw her room. Still the same as he remembered. She had the curtains in the in the windows and her bed was neatly made and tucked into the corner closest to the window, or the “gateway to the stars” as she always called it. he smiled as he thought of that phrase. She had explained long ago that she her soul needed to be close to the night sky and the woods that she loved, which is why she always put her bed close to the window, and which is why she always called it her “gateway to the stars”.

But not everything remained the same from when he had been there last. It felt almost solemn. The delightful happiness that he had once felt seemed to vanished. At the window there was a black candle symbolizing death. It was burning brightly in the dark. The gloom that was hanging in the room was so thick that even though he did not have breathe he could taste it. It made him worry, to see that the one he loved was obviously in such pain. He had to find her, he to see her and his time was slowly ticking away.

He floated through the window, sat on her bed, and thought of her, when he looked out the window and saw what he had so absentmindedly forgotten. Across from the back of the house, where the yard met the woods, was a small path. Most knew not to enter the woods, but he knew though that she did not care about such things. He knew where she would be. He left the house and made his way to the hidden trail. As he carefully made his was down the path he saw the small sign that she had posted to mark the way. The sign read “Lovers Crossing”

He smiled at the sign, and as he walked through the small hole and onwards to the forgotten trail his memories came flooding back. Thoughts of his beautiful young lover with golden white hair came as a whirlwind into his mind. She was mystical and magical. He could see her running down the pathway ahead of him. He smiled again.  The thought of her made his heart begin to ache.

He knew her to be wild in heart and soul, yet gentle in her manner and her smile. She was the love of his life and he knew that she felt the same. He heard a soft whisper “come with me”. He followed the voice.

*The entrance through the brush was thick. Dark twisted vines were all around him. The path ahead was crowded and he felt like he was being watched by everything that surrounded him. The feeling was eerie. Even in his spectral form he felt a slight tingle of fear run up his spine. This is not what he remembered at all. Trees reached out for him with branches like sharp claws. The pathway narrowed as if he were prey being strangled.

How could this happen? His memory was so different than what was before him. This path used to be green and vibrant. The blue flower that only bloomed around this time of year used to cover every vine, creating a refreshing and romantic feel in the atmosphere. It was a beautiful and peaceful walk. This was not it. Something had changed it, made it dark and gloomy.

The once alluring dream had become a dark and twisted nightmare. He pressed beyond the dark and searched for the light that once burned brightly. He refused to give up. He was getting closer, he could feel it. His journey was coming to an end. He prayed that he would see the stars and the one person he longed for.

Now all had gone silent. The wind had stopped, the dark trees and twisted shadows ceased their trickery. He stopped on the path and listened. Further up the path he heard what sounded like a faint cry. Someone was up ahead and they sounded as if they were in pain. He quickened his pace and finally he saw what he had been waiting all night to see.

He came to a small clearing. It was enclosed in a massive arch of trees that had become overgrown and created a secret place hidden from the outside world’s interference. A small gap in the canopy allowed one to see the stars of the night sky. With the darkness that filled the clearing the stars shown brightly and all was peaceful.

In the center of the clearing was a very large black oak tree. In the middle of the ancient and old tree was a large open knot. Tucked in the branches of this black oak tree was the one person he had spent most of the night looking for. She was wearing a black dress her golden white hair flowing freely in the gentle wind. Her face was hidden in her hands and he realized the faint crying that he had heard was coming from no other than his beloved. Being this close to her, he could feel her pain. As she ached, he could feel his own body ache.

As he slowly came nearer to the old tree, her head lifted. Her cheeks were stained with tears and were as red as winter rose. She looked around and it seemed as if she was staring right at him. He was puzzled. Could she see him? He had no idea, but he decided to take a chance. So, with her eyes directly on him, he came even closer. He moved slowly not wanting to make any sudden moves. The last thing that he wanted to do was scare her.

Her gaze never left him. He did not understand why was her gaze was intense, yet he loved seeing those eyes. The eyes that he had fallen so deeply and madly in love with. As he drew nearer he decided that at last he would speak.

“My beloved” he began. But, before he could speak another word, she spoke. “How is this possible, I can see you…. but…. your gone” Tears began to fall once more. He reached out to touch her face. “No more tears my love” To his surprise his fingers did not pass through her face. He was able to firmly gasp that which he desired to hold. He lifted her head and with no hesitation he kissed her lips.

Passion and warmth came from that forbidden kiss. The kiss of true love was unlike anything. Sweeter than the taste of honey yet, he sat there in the hollowed oak tree with his love in his arms. Her head lying on his chest he managed to hear her say “You came back” He smiled once again. “Yes,” he thought to himself “Though it took me so much longer than I wanted” He had not wanted to be gone from her this long. They held onto each other as if their very lives depended on it. Neither spoke a word after that, they just enjoyed the peace and silence of that dark Fall night.

After much time had passed, he felt something. His smiled faded as the pressure returned once more and the howling of timber wolves announced that Samhain was coming to a close. The prison that he hated so much was calling to him. He did not want this night to end. If he could make this night last forever….then a thought entered his head. Maybe….just maybe he did not have to return.

He looked into the eyes of his beloved once more, smiled, and asked her one simple favor. “May I enter” A smile came slowly to those precious lips and she gave one simple nod  of her head. He pushed his way through into the very core and soul of her body, and from that night on they were one. One body, one spirit and most importantly one heart.

As the sun rose and Samhain came to a close, the vined hole that lead into the hidden clearing covered over. The ghosts returned to their graves, all except one, for he and his love remained forever together in a hollowed old oak tree.