Categories > Celebrities > Johnny Depp > Sleepy Hollow 2: A New Beginning
Chapter One
0 reviewsThe Horseman confronts Ichabod and the constable convinces the town that it is all real.
0Unrated
Chapter One
A carriage swayed alnog the road connecting New York City with Sleepy Hollow. Its occupants, a woman and her small boy, huddled beneath the canvas roof while her husband guided the horses. Soft rain began to fall from the clouds, soon drenching the land. One of the carriage's wheels sank into the mud, immobilizing the vehicle. Cursing venemently, the man hopped off and checked the problem, which was impossible to fix as the large wheel was stuck to a depth of two feet. "God blast it! Come on, Sheila, looks like we're walking the last five miles."
Grumbling, Sheila slid to the ground, holding Greggory in her arms. About to follow her husband, she abruptly halted, the sound of a horse behind them. Turning slowly, all three stared at a figure bearing down on them, bolts of lightning illuminating the rider's features. Cold, pitiless light blue eyes focused on them, it was clear his intentions were not pleasant.
"Run! Get out of here!" Ben yelled, shoving his wife forward, getting his shotgun from the carriage. Not bothering to see if Sheila was obeying him, he aimed the weapon and pulled the trigger, shoulder absorbing the kickback. Satisfied when the pellets blew the man from his horse, his confidence fled as the rider stood, sword somehow in hand. Desperate to reload, Ben dropped to one knee, shaking hands pouring powder into the gun's barrel, painfully aware of the approaching footsteps. Before he could place the primer, the object was knocked out of his grasp to land several feet away. Trembling, he peered into that icy gaze and gasped upon recognizing the Hessian Horseman that had terrorized Sleepy Hollow two years ago.
Worried about her husband, Sheila whirled, breath hitching as Ben's head was severed, thumping to the earth. Legs refusing to operate, she watched the Horseman advance, sheathing his blade. Sharpened teeth visible, he stopped in front of her, body emminating incredible strength. Drawing back a gloved hand to strike, he seemed to pause, thinking. "You will give me the child if you want to live." Muscles frozen, the woman was unable to shake her head or even speak, causing the Hessian's eyes to darken. Reaching out, he snatched the boy from her, slapping her to the muddy ground. Pivoting, he walked to his charger and mounted expertly, his captive cringing in front of him. "Hyaa!"
Sheila pushed herself onto her elbows, a cut in her lip oozing blood. Defiantly lifting her head, she spread her arms, not uttering a noise as the heavy horse ran over her, breaking multiple bones and cracking her spine.
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"Ichabod! Come quick, I've found something!"
"Coming!" Ichabod called, clumsily leaping off his horse. Running out of the woods, he found Katrina beside a carriage, the policemen kneeling a little ways off. Walking up to her, the constable blanched, pressing a cloth to his mouth. "Poor bloke. Never stood a chance, even with his gun." Crouching, he peeled the collar down to reveal a stump that had been cauterized. "Just as I thought: the Horseman. And he has taken the head once again."
"Mr. Crane, overe here!"
Hurrying to join the policemen, Ichabod blanched at the sight of the broken woman before him. Noticing something peculiar, he leaned down, able to make out the shape of a deep hoofprint stamped on her chest. Thinking she was dead, the constable jumped as the woman coughed, breathing labored. "Good God, she's still alive! Hush, don't try to speak. You'll only---"
"M-my son! He t-took my b-boy!" the woman choked, blood staining her lips. "B-Ben was p-protecting us w-when he was k-killed. Th-then the H-Horseman c-came for me and s-stole my b-baby! His h-horse ran me down...." Voice dropping to a whisper, she uttered her last words. "Pl-please, br-bring my child h-home safely." Eyes fluttering shut, her head lolled loosely, the life gone from her body.
Shaking uncontrollably, Ichabod starightened and strode to his steed, climbing up swiftly. "I think it's time we confront the village to make them see the danger they are in."
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"No need to panic, my good people! Rest assured that the police---"
"Have no idea what they are up against!" Ichabod said, riding hard toward the assembled crowd. "No mortal soul can defeat the Hessian. Anyone who attempts it shall face the same fate as those who came before them. Oh, you may think this is a sham, but know that two innocent people were murdered on the old trail. The woman was crushed by the Horseman's own horse, her husband beheaded. What's more, her son, eight-year-old Greggory, has been taken by the fiend for purposes we can't comprehend."
"Stop sprouting nonsense, Ichabod Crane!" newly-appointed magistrate Herculson scoffed, shaking his head sadly. "You yourself said that the Horseman would never surface again once he had his head. Now you expect us to beieve that he is back of his own free will?"
Ichabod casually glanced at the sky, which was growing dark. "Nightfall is almost upon us, Magistrate. Would you care to join me on a journey into the western woods? There I am sure all your doubts would be answered." Grumbling, the man motioned for his horse, then allowed himself to be led into the forest. Shortly thereafter, the two of them arrive at a grotesquely morphed tree set aside from the other plants. Calculating the amount of sunlight left, the constable tied his horse to a sturdy branch, commanding his companion to do the same. "We just have to wait an hour."
"You know this is ridiculous, Crane," Herculson remarked after the hour had nearly expired. "Just give up and---MY GOD!" Shafts of lightning cleaved the sky as dense fog covered the ground. Roots ripping from the soil, a gaping hole appeared along the Tree of the Dead's trunk. Neighing loudly, an ebony stallion burst into view, nostrils flared. But it what was on the horse's back that caused the magistrate to hide behind Ichabod, who looked as if he wanted to bolt.
"Ah, so you did come, Ichabod," the Horseman purred, smirking at their horrified expressions. Drawing his sword, he laid it on Herculson's neck--and consequently--Ichabod's as well. "Is this my next victim? How thoughtful of you." Getting ready to swep the blade in an arc, he was stopped by a hand on his arm. Realizing what he had done, the constable seemed to shrink in the saddle, but not before the Hessian snarled threateningly. "Becoming bold now, are we? You won't be so confident when we fight each other."
"F-fight?!" Ichabod yelped, gulping. Ignoring him, the Hessian prodded his horse and rode to do his grisly deed. Sick to his stomach, the constable repeated himself, collapsing to the dround in a dead faint, Herculson mimicking him an instant later.
A carriage swayed alnog the road connecting New York City with Sleepy Hollow. Its occupants, a woman and her small boy, huddled beneath the canvas roof while her husband guided the horses. Soft rain began to fall from the clouds, soon drenching the land. One of the carriage's wheels sank into the mud, immobilizing the vehicle. Cursing venemently, the man hopped off and checked the problem, which was impossible to fix as the large wheel was stuck to a depth of two feet. "God blast it! Come on, Sheila, looks like we're walking the last five miles."
Grumbling, Sheila slid to the ground, holding Greggory in her arms. About to follow her husband, she abruptly halted, the sound of a horse behind them. Turning slowly, all three stared at a figure bearing down on them, bolts of lightning illuminating the rider's features. Cold, pitiless light blue eyes focused on them, it was clear his intentions were not pleasant.
"Run! Get out of here!" Ben yelled, shoving his wife forward, getting his shotgun from the carriage. Not bothering to see if Sheila was obeying him, he aimed the weapon and pulled the trigger, shoulder absorbing the kickback. Satisfied when the pellets blew the man from his horse, his confidence fled as the rider stood, sword somehow in hand. Desperate to reload, Ben dropped to one knee, shaking hands pouring powder into the gun's barrel, painfully aware of the approaching footsteps. Before he could place the primer, the object was knocked out of his grasp to land several feet away. Trembling, he peered into that icy gaze and gasped upon recognizing the Hessian Horseman that had terrorized Sleepy Hollow two years ago.
Worried about her husband, Sheila whirled, breath hitching as Ben's head was severed, thumping to the earth. Legs refusing to operate, she watched the Horseman advance, sheathing his blade. Sharpened teeth visible, he stopped in front of her, body emminating incredible strength. Drawing back a gloved hand to strike, he seemed to pause, thinking. "You will give me the child if you want to live." Muscles frozen, the woman was unable to shake her head or even speak, causing the Hessian's eyes to darken. Reaching out, he snatched the boy from her, slapping her to the muddy ground. Pivoting, he walked to his charger and mounted expertly, his captive cringing in front of him. "Hyaa!"
Sheila pushed herself onto her elbows, a cut in her lip oozing blood. Defiantly lifting her head, she spread her arms, not uttering a noise as the heavy horse ran over her, breaking multiple bones and cracking her spine.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ichabod! Come quick, I've found something!"
"Coming!" Ichabod called, clumsily leaping off his horse. Running out of the woods, he found Katrina beside a carriage, the policemen kneeling a little ways off. Walking up to her, the constable blanched, pressing a cloth to his mouth. "Poor bloke. Never stood a chance, even with his gun." Crouching, he peeled the collar down to reveal a stump that had been cauterized. "Just as I thought: the Horseman. And he has taken the head once again."
"Mr. Crane, overe here!"
Hurrying to join the policemen, Ichabod blanched at the sight of the broken woman before him. Noticing something peculiar, he leaned down, able to make out the shape of a deep hoofprint stamped on her chest. Thinking she was dead, the constable jumped as the woman coughed, breathing labored. "Good God, she's still alive! Hush, don't try to speak. You'll only---"
"M-my son! He t-took my b-boy!" the woman choked, blood staining her lips. "B-Ben was p-protecting us w-when he was k-killed. Th-then the H-Horseman c-came for me and s-stole my b-baby! His h-horse ran me down...." Voice dropping to a whisper, she uttered her last words. "Pl-please, br-bring my child h-home safely." Eyes fluttering shut, her head lolled loosely, the life gone from her body.
Shaking uncontrollably, Ichabod starightened and strode to his steed, climbing up swiftly. "I think it's time we confront the village to make them see the danger they are in."
% ^ % ^ % ^ % ^ % ^ % ^ % ^
"No need to panic, my good people! Rest assured that the police---"
"Have no idea what they are up against!" Ichabod said, riding hard toward the assembled crowd. "No mortal soul can defeat the Hessian. Anyone who attempts it shall face the same fate as those who came before them. Oh, you may think this is a sham, but know that two innocent people were murdered on the old trail. The woman was crushed by the Horseman's own horse, her husband beheaded. What's more, her son, eight-year-old Greggory, has been taken by the fiend for purposes we can't comprehend."
"Stop sprouting nonsense, Ichabod Crane!" newly-appointed magistrate Herculson scoffed, shaking his head sadly. "You yourself said that the Horseman would never surface again once he had his head. Now you expect us to beieve that he is back of his own free will?"
Ichabod casually glanced at the sky, which was growing dark. "Nightfall is almost upon us, Magistrate. Would you care to join me on a journey into the western woods? There I am sure all your doubts would be answered." Grumbling, the man motioned for his horse, then allowed himself to be led into the forest. Shortly thereafter, the two of them arrive at a grotesquely morphed tree set aside from the other plants. Calculating the amount of sunlight left, the constable tied his horse to a sturdy branch, commanding his companion to do the same. "We just have to wait an hour."
"You know this is ridiculous, Crane," Herculson remarked after the hour had nearly expired. "Just give up and---MY GOD!" Shafts of lightning cleaved the sky as dense fog covered the ground. Roots ripping from the soil, a gaping hole appeared along the Tree of the Dead's trunk. Neighing loudly, an ebony stallion burst into view, nostrils flared. But it what was on the horse's back that caused the magistrate to hide behind Ichabod, who looked as if he wanted to bolt.
"Ah, so you did come, Ichabod," the Horseman purred, smirking at their horrified expressions. Drawing his sword, he laid it on Herculson's neck--and consequently--Ichabod's as well. "Is this my next victim? How thoughtful of you." Getting ready to swep the blade in an arc, he was stopped by a hand on his arm. Realizing what he had done, the constable seemed to shrink in the saddle, but not before the Hessian snarled threateningly. "Becoming bold now, are we? You won't be so confident when we fight each other."
"F-fight?!" Ichabod yelped, gulping. Ignoring him, the Hessian prodded his horse and rode to do his grisly deed. Sick to his stomach, the constable repeated himself, collapsing to the dround in a dead faint, Herculson mimicking him an instant later.
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