The Lady From Sleepy Hollow

Ichabod

I leave my room, and go to the coach, satchel in hand. With a bit of sadness, I watch the thriving city of New York pass by, and I leave city limits, forgoing civilization, following a dirt road to the forested wilderness. The overcast skies cast a gloomy atmosphere on me.

Coach lanterns light the way as the coach lumbers along, caressed by tight foliage. I read my notebook, where I have drawn out rather gruesome torture devices, with little written phrases like "Punish the Guilty, Not the Weak!" and such.

Torture devices are hugely inhumane in my eyes. It should be forbidden to do criminal investigation by forced confession. Solving by reason and deduction is the most honest way. If you have a careful observation of the crime scene, it will yield clues to the manner and the circumstances of death. Truth is the only honorable way.

I flip the page and look at my research on the Sleepy Hollow case, having a rough map of the Hudson River and the two cities New York and Sleepy Hollow sketched on it. I also have a list of the three current victims: Peter Van Garrett, who was a prominent land owner, his son, Dirk Van Garrett, and a widow by the name Emily Winship. All of them, decapitated.

I look out of the small window, unnerved and in thought, the vast amount of dense woods captivating my attention. The coach moves through sun dappled forest...

________________

A day has past, and I sit with antsy anxiety. I check the contents of my leather satchel in my lap, pulling out one of the science tools of my own design, making sure that it still works. I pause a moment, lowering the tool and studying the palm of my hand.

I touch the strange scars on my palms: evenly dispersed, tiny dots of tissue. Many scars... I can't remember where I got them, although I do know that I've had them since I can remember. I run my thumb over the scars as I think.

After a moment, I return to looking through my satchel, the coach rocking unevenly on the forest path.

Soon the sun falls below the horizon again, and I relax against the cushioned seat, my eyes closing as I drift into slumber. Although, a wolf's howling jolts me awake, and I shut the window curtains with uneasiness, growing anxious again.

________ Mary ________

I awaken with tear stains on my cheeks—I must've cried in my sleep. But today, I no longer feel any sorrow, for some unexplainable reason.

Katrina bursts into my room as I sit up in my bed, blinking away my weariness. She shouts in a scared whisper, "Mary!"

"I had a terrible dream... of the Hessian... I fear when we are next," she whispers as she places herself next to me, looking up at me with horror. I hush her as she begins to tremble.

"Such a thing won't happen. I won't let it," I say assuringly. "I will protect you best I could."

"Don't be daft!" She leans away and looks at me incredulously. "If the Van Garretts and the Widow Winship can't beat the Horseman, no one can. I don't even think Brom could..."

I remain silent, pulling her into a hug. She hugs me back, and we sit like that for a little while. When the light begins illuminating the room, Lady Van Tassel comes in. We both look up at her, slowly dropping our embrace. She smiles at us softly.

"Your father is hosting a party tonight to help the townspeople relax. Since with what happened..." she trails off, glancing around the room. "I suggest you two begin laying out your dresses, then come downstairs to help cook the food."

"Yes ma'am," I reply, and Katrina nods. With that, Lady Van Tassel leaves us. I glance at Katrina and say, "Tonight will be fun."

She smiles at me and stands up. "Come on! I want your help on what I should wear!"

I grin at her sudden cheerful excitement, glad that she's no longer upset with the recent traumatic deaths. We both enter her room, and she lets go of my hand, going to her wardrobe.

I laugh when she pulls out a dress and holds it up to herself, spinning with it. She giggles and asks, "What about this one?"

It is a pale-gold floor-length gown with white sheer connected to the breast, forming a 'V' up to the shoulders, which have creme lace trim along the edges of the dress.

"It's beautiful, but that seems more of a ceremonial dress rather than a party dress, don't you think?" I say with a giggle. She pouts a little, then laughs.

"You're right," she agrees, hanging it back up. I stand up with her and search through the gowns.

"How about this one?" I ask, pulling one from the wardrobe and holding it out to her. It was a floor length of pearly satin fabric with mauve sheer trimming and intricate threading. She looks at it and smiles with delight.

"I had almost forgotten about that one!" She laughs and takes it. "I think it'll do nicely."

"Plus it'll really put on a tease for Brom," I add with a chuckle. She smirks at that. She lays the dress on her bed and we go to my room. She helps me pick out a gown for the party tonight, both of us settling on a periwinkle blue gown with golden trim and threading.

It is the most modest dress I've got, and I don't want men to try and ask for my hand tonight. So might as well go for the more-concealed look. After all, I did lose my betrothed a rough three or four days ago.

________ Ichabod ________

A hard bump of the coach brings me hastily to consciousness, and I look out of the window into the overcast morning. The coach slows, and I take in the small farmland of a town.

The coach stops in front of a gateway, and I slowly get out, my large briefcase in one hand and my scientific satchel in the other.

Standing between two massive stone pillars, I feel unsure, turning to watch his coach leave him behind. I look ahead of me, take a deep breath, and begin my stride down the dirt path into Sleepy Hollow.