The Better Engagement

The Day Hell Broke Loose

The moon was high in the clear night sky. A cool white mist had settled into the damp ground of Sleepy Hollow. The fog laid undisturbed until a rain of heavy footsteps thundered towards the town's cemetery. The white pale horse grunted flaming steam from its nostrils as it's hooves pounded the ground in its path.

This horse was a pure white steed with a lean stature that rippled with iron muscle in every stride. It's eyes were as stagnant blood piercing the thick fog. Though, the horse did not travel alone. It's master was a sight truly heart stopping.

The rider wielded his axe with hefty strength as the stallion galloped to their destination. He wore a red dirt stained coat that dated back to the British Navy's issue with a plethora of weapons strapped to it. Everything about this being was normal except for him being a 200 year old corpse that lost his head long ago. His name was Death or as most know him as The Headless Horseman. Some may even know him as Abraham Van Brunt, well, when he had his head, but without it he was Death. Until he finds his head, he shall stay that.

Death yanked on the stallions reigns causing it to rear up thrashing its hooves in the air. Once the horse fell down, Death jumped off it, grabbed a shovel, and stomped heavy footed towards the headstone he sought for. He took a few more steps and stopped to verify if his travels were to the correct location.

Here lies the body
of
Lilly Delilah Jade.
Died: Unknown
Birth: Unknown
Quote:
"Souls bound to be together in strength of times, will stay together in all lives,".

His cold body went rigid as he read the gray words engraved into the tombstone. It was unusual for him to feel emotions because he was Death, but his heart sunk further down upon seeing those words. He mentally smacked himself for being so weak, and cursed inwardly for not being able to physically smack himself. Of course because he had no head. His hand harshly gripped the rusty shovel while raising it to shoulder level. He pushed the shovel down into the dirt yanking up a good chunk of it out.

It took awhile before he finally struck a hard surface. Death threw down his shovel and used his hands to uncover what he thought would be a coffin, but the more dirt he removed the more he realized that the women who laid rest here wasn't supposed to be buried at all. She wasn't even dead. Or even alive. Somewhere in the middle like him. He finally wiped all the dirt away from what was under him.

Anger rose within his veins as he saw the shape of a woman's body within a couple bedsheets tied together on the top. Memories flashed within his imaginary head as he tried to figure out what had truly happened to her that made her be buried like this. Everyone was always buried in a coffin, but not her.

For some reason she was laid to rest in a couple of tattered white bed sheets. It made Death wonder what she even did to deserve a quick burial. He ripped open the sheets careful not to hurt the body underneath. His master may want her for the Apocalypse, but he needed her.

He needed to touch her delicate skin again. He needed to smell the scent of her hair once more. He needed to kiss her like before. He just needed her. Her smile, laugh, sparkling eyes, glares, angry words, and even her yelling at him shouting unladylike words. She wasn't like other women. She was strong and vocal, even more so than he was. She fought, she cursed, she did everything opposite of a lady. He still had her though.

The emotions he hadn't felt in 200 years came flooding in as he opened the sheets seeing her unscathed face. It was like she wasn't truly laying in dirt supposed to be dead. It was if she was still laying in his arms back at his estate before he left.

As he pulled her body out of the grave, flashbacks filled his subconscious.

(Flashback 200 years ago in the Van Brunt Estate)

"Lilly! Lilly where are you?" Abraham yelled from his room. He was still dripping wet from a quick bath with only a towel clinging to his waist. Usually his maid Lilly was there with his wool suit, but for some reason she had been absent. "Lilly I command you to come at once!"

He gripped the towel tighter as he heard the pitter patter of bare feet running through the hallways. It was only about two seconds later when a petite figure burst through his door. She had thick curly hair the color of the dark brown earth with the brightest green eyes anyone has ever seen and freckles that dotted almost her entire body.

(btw on this next part I'm basically describing my looks and ethnicity so don't get offended. I mean what I'm saying here in perspective of what the people in the 1700-1800s thought because it helps the storyline and in no way is it how I feel or think.)

Usually it was uncommon for a woman like her to be a maid because she looked Caucasian, but her mother was full LakotaSioux while her father also was Irish so therefore she was thought to be subordinate to the rest. Only because she was predominantly Native American, she was bound to be a lonely maid for the rest of her life.

If she was to have any children, they would be subjected to the same life she did. Her head quickly snapped towards her master attempting to keep her gaze at ground level, but as usual her eyes studied his built frame still damp from a bathe with nothing but a towel. A loud cough was heard causing her gaze to look at the floor in embarrassment.

He must have noticed her red cheeks because a throaty chuckle echoed in the room. He loved to tease her especially because he knew she was not allowed to marry people of high status or anyone without her permission. "You called Master?" Her voice shook. She knew he was mad and her body ached thinking of the punishment that may pursue.

"For the third time this week you have showed up late for your chores. I have let this go with warnings but I see it's not reaching your ears redskin mutt!". His voice raised as the towel dropped to the floor. A whimper jumped to her throat when she heard heavy steps walk past her to the bed. Shuffling could be heard behind her and she dare not move.

The sound of fabric sliding over skin could be heard followed with steps stopping right beside Lilly. From what she could see he had pants on, but she was too frightened to speak or meet his gaze. Not that she'd look him in the eye anyways because she was not considered worthy enough.

His finger lightly brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Lilly whimpered knowing what was coming for her. She had the scars to remind her. His finger traced from behind her ear all the way to the back of her head light swirling strands of her curly hair until his hand grabbed a fist full of it and yanked her head backwards.

She let out a cry of pain as tears streamed down her face. "Master please I beg you spare me! It won't happen again!". "How will you learn? Your people has troubled mine for years with begging then backstabbing us when we give mercy. Well no I will not. As soon as I come back from meeting Katrina, I promise you it'll be the worst time of your life!".

With that he stormed out of the room leaving her to fall weeping to the floor holding her head in pain. As he went to shut the door, he looked back unconsciously. Her disheveled hair and sobs made his chest feel like it would be torn in two.

"Lilly,".

(Flashback fades to the same room in the old estate 200 years later with Death laying her down on the dusty bed)

Lilly laid peacefully on the outdated dusty bed Death watched as her chest rose and fell in abnormal breathing increments. Instead of breathing every second she breathed every sixty seconds.

From the minute she had laid eyes upon him, she knew in heart he would be the one to bring her to life. Both literally and metaphorically.