All characters, except those not mentioned in the movie are the property of the Walt Disney Company and are used without permission. Even though I do believe that they deserve much better than what they get recently these days.

Chapter 1: They're only stories

On a dark cold night, on a night just like this, a rider treaded softly through the dark shadowy forest. Nothing but the sound of crickets, owls, and the howling wind echoed through his hearing. The light from the full moon decreased as the blackest clouds distinguished its form. But onward he kept going, despite the unknown from around him. Believing they were nothing more than mere echoes, he ignored them along the path.

Suddenly from out of nowhere, a haunting figure covered in black rags emerged from the thicket scaring the living daylights out of the rider's horse, sending the rider backwards. Wondering what his horse might have been afraid of the rider called out.

"Where are you, show yourself!"

Silence there and nothing more. Furious and fearful at the same time, he pulled out his pistol to await any oncoming attack if the floating figure were to show itself again. But the dead silence seemed to be frightening him more as his hands shook violently still holding the pistol.

Once more, the figure swooped past him surprisingly. He saw that it was now heading to what appeared to be a cemetery. Despite the fear in his trembling bones, he was curious to know more about who or what this figure might have been as he followed it straight to the cemetery, leaving behind his horse. Perhaps it might have been an outlaw on the loose playing games with his mind. He would be ready for him or her. Among the dead decayed ground, he hid from one tombstone to the next to avoid detection by the figure. What was more frightening was the fact that this figure didn't seem to have any feet touching the ground as it kept moving. With the gusty howling wind blowing across the cloak of this figure, it finally paused at the tallest hill with the tallest tombstone sticking from the ground.

Why would it stop there? That was the only question the rider kept asking himself. He moved slowly approaching it, hoping to catch this renegade by surprise. But the more he grew nearer, the faster his heart was pacing. Still, the figure stood there in front of the tombstone floating. Feeling as though this person would not respond anytime soon, the rider walked right up to it and shouted, "I've had enough of whatever game you're pullin' on me. Time for me to be takin' you to town!"

But the figure still ignored him, staring at the tombstone. Irritated, the rider threw his hands on the cloak of the figure in an attempt to pull him or her himself. Before he could do so, the figure finally turned his way and stared back at him with red eyes. Releasing the cloak, the rider now stood frozen with fear.

"Who…why are...y…you…s…standing there?" he stuttered as he shook.

After a moment of dead silence, the figure whispered in a haunting tone.

"This spot is my grave!"

"Alright, I believe everyone here has had enough ghostly tales for tonight."

It was the night of Halloween, and the animals at the Patch of Heaven farm gathered around a tiny fireplace to listen to Lucky Jack tell them the scariest tales he has ever heard. He had been scaring them (or so he thought) with tales of ghosts, witches, haunted spots, and local superstitions. He even told them the story on The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and of an evil witch named Callie. Callie who could take on any form of man or beast, cast nasty unbreakable spells, sneak her way onto folk's properties to suck out their life-essences or steal their livestock, never to be seen again. Lucky Jack warned that if anyone ever dared to come face to face with someone like her better beware, because Callie is one witch you don't want to mess with.

"Aw, Mrs. C," the middle piglet moaned.

"Now, now," Molly, the female pig gave him a stern look which told him not to object to any command given by an adult.

The younger piglets and chicks along with the other farm animals seemed to be enjoying the tales more rather than being afraid of them.

"Don't tell me you're here to spoil our night of fright, eh Mrs. C," teased Maggie, but Mrs. Calloway ignored her.

Maggie had always taken a liking to scary tales ever since she could remember and believed it was fun to be scared on a night like this; though she was never quite a believer in spooks. Grace, unlike all the other family members had been the most frightened of Jack's tales. All this talk of ghosts and ghouls made her shiver like a rattlesnake. But the story of Callie was the most frightening of all. Not only that, but it seemed to bring back memories of all the events of her worst fears from her earlier days as a calf. Memories she would rather leave behind than remember for the rest of her life. She spoke not a word to anybody throughout the night.

"When I say that's enough, I mean it," Mrs. Calloway spoke in a motherly way.

Being the proper cow she was, Mrs. Calloway only thought of tales like that to be nothing more than mere nonsense. Rubbish to be exact. She was probably right, because if any human being were to ever mention a word of an encounter with a wandering spirit to this day, would likely end up in the nut house or be considered a lunatic. Instead of having to stay around the campfire, she had been doing a little patrolling making sure that everything was safe and secure. She had dropped by moments later to let them know it was getting late already by interruption. Even Lucky Jack agreed that it was time to stop.

"Well folks," he replied grabbing a small bucket of water. "I hope ya'll don't stay up too late, or else Callie will come get you." He let out a low chuckle as he extinguished the tiny flame, then going off to Jeb's barrel parked next to a mountain of cans. Lucky Jack had become Jeb's new roommate companion the day after Slim's arrest.

"Yes, thank you very much Jack," Mrs. Calloway spoke sarcastically, shooing the younger piglets off to their pen. "I'm sure she won't catch any of us wide awake tonight now will she."

Inside the den

"I'm sensing this feeling that something is watching us from outside."

"Grace, go to sleep," Mrs. Calloway murmured groggily with her eyes still closed. She was in no mood to deal with this sort of nonsense at this time of night. Grace was far too old to believe in such superstition and she should know better.

"But…Callie, what if she…"

"That's only a story now go to sleep."

"Maybe one of us should…"

"Didn't I tell you to hush and go to sleep?" Mrs. Calloway scolded as if she were talking to a youngling.

"…take turns guarding."

"I mean it Grace, go to sleep this instant or else." The sleepy bovine had enough of this stuttering and teeth chattering coming from Grace and knew it was time to get serious. She had to do something to put a stop to it.

"But…"

"Grace!" Mrs. Calloway said sternly, almost to the point of turning and shouting. Even now, Grace realized by that tone of voice that enough was enough and said no more for the night. The proper bovine always had her way of giving orders, especially to the older type. Grace had never tried to argue with her before, even if she wanted to.

"What's all the fuss about?" moaned a tiresome Maggie with her back turned the other way.

"Nothing, just go to sleep."

Later that night

"I'm not afraid; they're only stories, only stories," the blond heifer repeated silently to herself. She had tried to fall asleep, but feared that if she did, she may never wake up again. No thanks to that witch tale. It was all she needed right now. TAP, TAP, TAP! Looking to her right up above, some dead branches from an old crooked tree tapped against the windowpanes of the den. What was even more frightening was hearing the howling wind blow against the boards. Similar to a cursed werewolf in search of his next victim. This time, the feeling of someone watching grew and grew more often.

"Whatever you are, please go away," Grace muttered silently, pacing around the inside of the den to be aware of any sudden movement or echo. So far, everything was covered in darkness and nothing to be heard but the breeze of the autumn wind. Although there was no sign of danger inside or out, the tales had seemed to cause the young heifer's mind to play tricks on her.

"I'm just going to go to sleep and pretend you're not here," she whispered to the darkness from within. Taking a deep breath, she rested her head on the soft yellow hay, and then drifted off to a moment of sleep.

"Grace!"

Grace, with her eyes wide open lifted her head up at what she thought sounded like someone or something calling out her name. Believing it was her imagination again, she lowered herself back down to sleep.

"Grace!"

That voice again! She couldn't have imagined it this time. Still lying down, her eyes paced back and forth. There was no one inside. At this rate, she could feel her blood run cold with fear and her heart beat faster.

"GRRRAAACCCCCEEE!" The voice hissed in a snake-like tone. Jumping up in fright, Grace dragged herself over to where Maggie was sleeping.

"Maggie, Maggie wake up. There's something out there," she stammered, trying to shake her awake. But Maggie didn't even moan or budge an inch.

"Maggie please, wake up!" still, she didn't move. Giving up, Grace moved over to Mrs. Calloway.

"Mrs. C, Mrs. C wake up," but not even Mrs. Calloway budged an inch. She just laid there as if she were a stone statue. Already feeling her anxiety level rise up, Grace shook each of them as violently as she could, hoping it would be enough to awaken them.

"Wake up, there is a voice outside the farm!" she cried hysterically. Still, they laid there without moving or moaning. In this situation, it seemed that Grace would've had to handle this on her own. She could do this, couldn't she? After all she did help save their home and stood up to that notorious bandit queen who held her captive in Texas. (Author's note: That's another story).

"Listen, whoever or whatever you are, you better go away or else you'll be tasting your own medicine!" trying to act brave, she walked slowly step by step to the gates of the den.

"Looooooookk outssside!" the voiced hissed once more. Grace gulped then raised her front right hoof to push the door open, but not before it started shaking intensely. Turning her head back to gaze at Maggie and Mrs. Calloway still in the death-like sleep, she took a deep breath and pushed the doors wide open. But to her surprise, she looked to find not the Patch of Heaven farm, but a dusky orange-clouded sky and a dry soiled pumpkin patch.

Disclaimer: The Legend of Sleepy Hollow is a tale written in 1848 and copyrighted to Washington Irving. I own nothing of that story.