Death Most Likely

Ichabod Arrival

Ichabod Crane limped towards the small town of Sleepy Hollow. As he journeyed he passed through expansive fields. He traveled over bridges, and through woods. The walk was killing him. He had barely escaped the terrible battles of the Revolutionary War by faking his death. He was going to Sleepy Hollow to hide out with his cousin Harry. The trip was very hard. But what else could he do. Go back to Virginia and be arrested, or worse sent back into that blood bath of a war.

Ichabod was (or liked to call himself) a normal man. He was 42, tall, rather skinny, and pale. He had light brown hair, blue eyes, and a very pointy nose. He was born in Richmond, Virginia but grew up Williamsburg. From an early age his parents noticed his fear of everything. Swimming, heights, spiders, snakes, all the works. They even sent him away for a year to a military school in England to help boost his courage. But it had done nothing. He remained a coward. Always was always would be.

The date was October 31st, 1777. It was pitch black. Ichabod had been walking all day without a moments rest. He was so close. If he traveled down this road he would reach the town in about an hour. Of course he would have to go through Sleepy Woods first.

When Harry came to visit when Ichabod was young, Harry often told stories of the hauntings that took place in the woods. Ghosts of soldiers, monsters that lurked in the treeline, and worst of all. The Headless Horseman.

The town of Sleepy Hollow was right smack in the middle of those awful woods. It was full of strange people. Witches, devil worshippers and the like. It was the perfect place to hide. No sensible person would want to go there. There he would be safe.

He was about a mile outside of the town when he came across a horse. It was the largest horse Ichabod had ever seen. It was black as night. Except for eyes. The eyes were red as fire. The fires of hell. “What…” Ichabod began but was interrupted when the horse veered up on his hooves and made a sound like death itself. Ichabod screamed before he turned and began to run away from the horse. But when he turned he found his path was blocked by a tall dark figure.

“You messing with my horse?” The figure mumbled from under his hood.

“No sir. I’m so sorry.” Ichabod panted. “You might want to get that horse checked out.”

“My horse it fine!” Replied the gruff stranger.

“But his eyes-”

“I said my horse is fine!” The man yelled back. Ichabod was shaking as he backed away from the man. The figure slowly began to take off his hood revealing that the man had no head at all. Ichabod started to scream but stopped as the horseman took an axe out of his coat. He held it up letting the blade gleam in the moonlight. Ichabod became dizzy and started to faint. The last thing he saw was the Headless Horseman swing his horrible axe.

 

****

 

Hans Van Ripper rode atop his ox pulled cart along the dirt road towards Sleepy Hollow. He had been spending the week up in New York selling goods and getting gossip about what was going on in the war. Hans sang Yankee Doodle as he made him way back home. Soon he came across a fallen tree in the road. It hadn’t stormed the previous night so he wondered what had caused the tree to fall.

“Halt!” He cried to the oxen. They froze and he jumped from his wagon. He walked over to the bottom of the tree. It had definitely been cut by someones axe. A moan came from the other side of the tree. He walked over. A man was on the ground his legs under the tree. Hans ran over and pulled the stranger from under the trunk. He was unconscious and both his legs were broken. Hans carried him and ran the rest of the way to town. “Injured man coming through!” He called making his way through the street. The man was waking up and wincing in pain. “Whats your name?” Hans asked.