Santa's Slay [Sleepy Hollow #Fanficfriday #Holiday]

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

The three jogged forward, their breath turning white as it hit the air, everything bathed in a dim red light.

"So even if we do get our hands on this guy, what's our plan?" Jenny staged whispered as they passed under a wreathed trellis. "What are you gonna do, Abbie, exorcise him by reading him his rights?"

Abbie grabbed her sister and Ichabod by their sleeves, forcing them to stop.

"The journal Mama gave us. There might be a hex that can help. It's worked before."

"If it ain't broke."

They all agreed.

"Then it's settled. Retrieve your ancestors journal. We shall rendezvous at the stable."

"And you?"

"I'm going to give Ol' St. Nick something to be jolly about."

*********

Ichabod peeled off his coat, stretching the faux garland collar of his sweater.

He stood facing a horse drawn carriage, feet planted. Mostly trying to psych himself up for what he was about to do. As he had heard Miss Jenny once say, he was about to MacGyver this bitch.

Keeping one hand on the horse's bridle so that it wouldn't spook, he  tore a pair of demeaning glitter antlers from the beast's head and then detached it from the carriage.

"Let's say we hunt some demons."

Ichabod clapped the horse on the shoulder, tossing a net over its back. Mounting, he hoisted up a large spool of Christmas lights that he had stolen from an equipment shed, balancing it and the reigns in his lap.

With a snort and a stamp of its foot, the horse allowed itself to be spurred forward, thundering off.

It wasn't that long before he came across two Santas preying on a young couple, feeding on their souls.

"Scum of  Darkness! You want my soul? Come and take it."

They dropped the bodies, looking up at Ichabod in his flashing sweater like he was a delicious Christmas pudding. They gave chase with lightning speed despite being such stout men in velvet suits. Ichabod would have been impressed if he wasn't so terrified.

They carved a noisy path through the village, Ichabod pipering and taunting the last of the rogue Santas by shouting verses of Mariah Carey and Ariana Grande Christmas tunes.

It scared him how much of the songs he had memorized.

He herded them into a patch of gumdrops and candycanes, throwing the heavy spool down like an anchor. Guiding the horse in a circle around them, he unwound the string of lights wrapping and wrapping until he reached the end of it.

"A bit melodramatic yet oddly satisfying."

Nearly out of breath he dismounted, admiring his handiwork. There were at least five of them all pinned together, snapping their teeth and cursing him. Keeping his distance, Ichabod kicked them and watched as they dominoed to the ground. He checked each of their wrists for the mark of the Rheinhessen, an eight spoked wheel with spearheads, before rolling them in a mesh net and tying it to the horse.

The Hessian was still out there.

********

Ichabod arrived at the stable, the poor horse sweating its hide after carrying such a huge load.

He called out to Abbie and Jenny, but was instead met by a mountain of a man as he turned on his heel. Peering out from a frame of white hair, were two beady black eyes. The side of his face had suffered an impressive gash by way of Jenny's machete. His sleeve was also slashed, exposing the dark ink of the mark imprinted on his wrist.

"Ichabod Crane, your soul is ours. You will fail as a Witness." He spoke with a booming bass that was fractured into a dozen different voices.

"So I have been told," Ichabod grimaced, positioning himself to make an exit. "Tell me, if Santa himself is being naughty. Does he have to treat himself to a lump of coal?"

He was answered by a flash of red lightning and a roll of thunder.

Demon Santa grinned, splitting the gash open wider.

He charged and they crashed right through the stable doors. Seizing the opportunity, Ichabod pulled demon Santa's hat down over his eyes before stumbling to his feet and out of the ring of salt.

The demon rose, laughing maniacally but mostly just looking irritated at the sight of the Mills emerging from the shadows, Jenny with the journal in hand.

"As they say, on your face." Ichabod stood at a confident distance from the demon, Abbie wishing he would dial it down a bit.

"In," Abbie mouthed.

"In your face. Now if you will, Miss Jenny, do the honors."

She recited the incantation but was forced to read it over again because the third time was always the charm.

Rick's body collapsed under the weight of the demon being expelled.

The wind kicked up and blew through the stable as the miniature storm raged outside. Disembodied souls wafted down, in search of their owners.

It was a Christmas miracle.

********

As it often happened, the police arrived shortly after the excitement was over, aiding those who were confused and taking Rick into custody.

Ichabod and Jenny stood off to the side while Abbie conversed with the Captain--a woman who thought of the threesome as nothing more than a magnet for crazy.

"If you don't mind me asking, what was someone like you doing in a fantastical place like Santa's Village in the first place," Ichabod said, always asking the important questions.

"Well, we said we were doing Christmas right this year," Jenny replied. "So I came to pick up some last minute gifts. In truth, I hate all of this but Abbie seemed to be enjoying it. Long story short,  just don't tell her."

Ichabod assured her that his lips were sealed as her sister walked up to them, fist raised. He bumped it.

"You good, Crane?"

"I shall prevail."

"Yeah, let's never do this again. Christmas is clearly not our thing."

They all breathed a sigh of relief. That above all meant that Ichabod could have szechuan chicken instead of being forced to eat a Christmas ham.

The idea of it had been nice but they didn't need Christmas to realize how much they valued one another.