Darkness & Fear.
Title: Darkness & Fear Author: Lox. Email: loxclaws@hotmail.com Homepage URL: http://snow.prohosting.com/~loxclaws Summary: a bloodthirsty undead mercenary... +... a wicked , little boy....= SLASH! !!!!!!
Chapter I.
in hell everything is so...... different. the shades hides in the darkness, screaming to the hearing of us, the condemned ones, remembering our sins, ah, uncertain future and too much pain!, I hope never to wake up again!
The creature smiled. sharp teeth, curved eyeteeth. narrowing muscle under pale skin, His whole , powerful , body moved, outside of the forced lethargy by the light, the night had arrived, - "at last", a demon wishpered- His eyes, however, remain closed. something has got His attention, very far, a " presence " The Mercenary could not say who was this ......person...... but, ah! how beautiful presence!. a deep, long, hard sound, resounded in the monstrous, tored throat, resonating in the infernal places. while the creature was lying down among the roots of His very own Resting place, his Grave, The Tree of the Dead...were the condemned souls are.
The Horseman Growled, anticipating the uncoming pleasure.
The Horseman, the formaly headless horseman, no-longer faceless, no longer nameless, but loveless, would have to find a a way to get closer to his beloved human. The little one, the one who gave his head back to him, " the missing head " , the only one that ever had used his head in that Town full of fools...He still could feel that little fingers around his huge skull.
But, would the human accept it? would He accept Him? A, the question. the young and warm, healthy boy. pure. innocent. to thake Him would be a nameless-sin, even for him, the demon, the mercenary, the merciless one, "Teufel Herz" they called Him "Teufel Herz". to take Him off the light,bringing Him to the darkness. His little one would be corromped. the thought hurted the ashes of an already burned, half-human, half-beast soul. "He never will be mine" he thought, in a diabolical language that no one really understood.
a sigh drowned in grunts and laments can be listened inside of the tree of the dead...and then a painful groan... and the Demons are runing away of their hurted master allread. they fear his anger, they fear his fury.
the Tree of the Dead is far away now, the woods can be seen, the leaves, the Town... the Way of sand... of Rock... of Wood... and then there it is... the City... were one can run away of magic... of spells, of witches... away of ancient Ghosts...
furs... soft, comfortable, warm. why was he so cold then? so absent, as a dead, why? where he was? what was that place? Constable Crane tryed hopelessly of clinging to his own memories, memories that escape from his fingers like fine grains of sand. time. how long had it been from His return to this time? how long after those....... events..... in the melancholy town of Sleepy Hollow? how long after having broken up any stupid, simple, and empty relationship with the white witch? how long from the last time that he had seen the..... the Horseman...The Hessian.... He had smiled to him before thaking Van Tassel to hell...
Why was he thinking about it...about..Him? maybe the mercenary's appearance was so imposing that Ichabod was still impressed by His gruesome countenance... ah, a simple reason for what cannot be explained.
"How pale Was the Hessian.....No, no.....Stop thinking about Him!" He yelled to himself.
He knelt down in the darkness, but, what was that place? certainly it was not His room.....a dream, maybe it was a long...bad dream. another nightmare. Ichabod Crane waited until His nightmare vanished in the air...like soft fog on a cloudly day. Like the life itself.
Chapter II.
The way of wood, of rock, of sand...the Town...The woods.....the Tree of the Dead....and there He was...the Ghost, the Devil of the Winter, of the western woods... The Hessian... smiling with his sharp pointed theets and a pair of cold-winter eyes. gray as the sky.
Ichabod woke up. trembling in the darkness. sweating a cold perspiration. His eyes still cloudy. dark eyes. the nightmare resounding in his brain like a macabre, infernal melody.
But, was it a nightmare? or, maybe, a sweet dream?
"better stop thinking of that" He said to himself, trying to forget the Winter-Eyes that explored, curious, his little naked body. The young man stand up and got dressed clever for other bitter and cloudy day.
Far from him, however, after the Town, inside the Tree... the dead mercenary smiled... and also laughed noisly, showing his sharp pointed theet. the reaction of the Little one had been so... charming... to see Him there, defenseless before him, with fear. trembling to his very Look. an exquisite dish for the heart.
of course the Hessian Horseman didn't wanted to see His beloved mortal trembling before him when the.. right moment..... had finally come....
The Horseman narrowed his body. lazy yawns are lisened on his tree. followed by weak groants and purrs.
the moon canot be seen allready...storm and clouds are gone...
The day had arrived again, the night had been so short, but at last he had seen the young man, he didnt even knew his name, but he had seen him, how beautiful he was, even in dreams. and the letargy began as the sun came out from its hiden sleep. The horseman fell a sleep too, And He dreamt sweet long dreams about the wonderful Child.
even perceiving His touch. almost feeling His skin under his own long fingers. Beautiful.
The Legendary Horseman of Sleepy Hollow sighed while the darkness took Him to the land of dreams..and nightmares.....to the nowhere.
Chapter III.
he had finally returned, no matter if he admitted it or not, Ichabod missed that strange place, Sleepy Hollow, a ghastly town that had kept His soul while himself went far away, He did not know why he had returned, he simply did not wanted to know it, he, Ichabod Crane, now the constable of sleepy hollow, only knew that the mysterious town called for him, claiming For His very presence, Ichabod had missed so much to be there, He missed the making of the town, its old houses,its strange custom, its peaceful people, The Western Woods.....The Hessian Horsem... NO! he screamed -had he spoke at all?- while he continued walking forcibly, wanting to fall, toward his new home in sleepy hollow.
Finally it had been the good-bye for the hypocrite and ambitious Katrina Tassel, who had remained in New York, far from him, their supposed commitment broke as soon as the menace of the Acephalous, the Headless Horseman was gone.
He was Free Now, finally free of magic and sorcery, although this sensation was completely false, because the little Town, as well as the Western Woods, were always submerged in the magic, because the spirit of the Hessian Horseman "lived" and it was still about for those places. riding around.
The Horseman was, in fact, riding at the ending of the forest, near the town, waiting patiently. His mount protested noisly as them rided around, it was a torture for the gigantic Horse. the Horseman made a signal, asking for silence. Daredevil puffed, but remained quiet. the snow began falling around them.
"He has returned" The Dammed Horseman whispered with his very own incomprehensible language. "He has returned to Me" he exclaims again, being arrogant. too arrogant.
"He dreams of Me " he says, as he vanishes in the darkness while His winter eyes are narrowed in the shades. probably only Daredevil, diabolical steed, will know what his master mumbled incoherently that night. and he had not liked it, not at all. poor Horse, condemned along with his master, oh, but he had some sort of faith for his master, He did not cared at all about being condemned, he just cared about his master´s happiness , and safety.
the horseman was nervous. Fury and Desire ran for His Cursed veins, as always, but there was something more this time, something Unknow, incomprehensible for him, completely new, something that burned very inside of Him.
The young Man -more a Child than a man- that had returned his head to Him was so beautiful, indescribable, too beautiful. so little, so small, and so fragile, innocent. The blame seemed a painful lunge in the chest of the Hessian. It would be so simple to force Him, to take Him in spite of his painfull laments. But He would not make it, He never would hurt Him. ever. The horseman simply would not dare to do it, he loved him too much.
" Love " The Horseman murmured with scorn to Himself. Everything was too complicated. life & death should be more simple.
The Horseman Rode with madness to the Tree fo the Dead. Wanting to have mounted until Sleepy Hollow, for seeing the young man, at least a moment. Daredevil Puffed again.
Chapter IV.
Ichabod Had been dreaming again, if not, why was him siting down in his own bed, sweating cold, breathing excitedly and totally upset? the dreams were destroying Him without a doubt. But, what had He dreamt this time? No, it was not his mother, any memory, neither happy, neither painful, neither His father, any memory that he wanted to forget. it hadnt been His superiors in New York, no, anything similar, what had it been then? wonders the Youth and Fragile Ichabod. "You know the answer" His mind awnsered in a bitter way. "Don't lie" spoke the voice inside him. "Don't lie" repeated the voice"Don't lie, little Ichabod, don't lie, Crane, don't lie" Ichabod trembled when discovering that His own mind was against him.
"You Want Him" Ichabod opened His eyes nervously. "You want Him, and you know it" "Who?" Ichabod wondered aloud, while His own, evil mind answered. "The Hessian, You Want the Hessian" Ichabod shivered even more when seeing that His own body betrayed him, like His mind had made before, responding to the very words that His mind spoke "The Hessian".... Ichabod was nervous, nothing had sence, any sence! "Oh No" Ichabod whispered, and fainted in the Darkness....alone.
Daredevil ran with fury at the forests, the Western Woods. avoiding all obstacle easily, jumping each fallen trunk, each rock, going deeper more and more on the woods to sudenly leave again to the road. The horse was Huge, just like His big Master. Puffing, the steed didn't dare to stop, his master was furious, also,
the excitement that the persecution caused was delicious, For the Horseman as for the Horse. The horseman unsheathed his sword then, one, two, three quick turns to the Iron leaf, symbol of His very superior ability. Arrogant, He was being arrogant again, showing to the world, to each creature, to each spirit of the woods , showing them how Superior he was, How powerful.
the moon was covered suddenly by the storm clouds that followed the Hessian, every time he mounted, the sky was darkened and it seemed that there would be a storm, or that it would snow, but the storm never arrived. ah, that was dark magic. The Nameless power, hellfire. The Beast Roared and his mount went more and more furious, faster, faster, powerful.
The intruder ran scared, swearing to himself never to enter again to the Dark Forests while he lived, that, if He survived to his ghastly opponent and His furious attack, praying to a God that would never protect Him.
The Hessian Smiled, a smile of insanity and fury. They -The Horseman and Draufgänger- were about to reach their objective, the prey, -like the Horseman used to call their enemy - they prey reached to jump a small hole, and he also reached to throw in it a piece of splintered tree, a Tramp, not very good, but efective.
Disoriented, the Hessian tried to protect His steed of the unnavoidable impact. Without success. Draufgänger groaned and neighed in pain while He was twisted impaled in that sharp pointed stick, no human had given him so much battle, only that beautiful youth that overcame for a lot to his current prey, the Hessian forced himself not to think about Him right now, pulling up the piece of truck off the body of Daredevil, the Horseman mounted again, alleviating the pain of his steed with soft grunts and incomprehensible murmurs,
How silly the intruder was when thinking that something so simple would stop similar infernal creature, only Dark Mug emerged of the veins of Daredevil, the steed was practically intact. Furious for the audacity of this unnamed enemy, the Hessian and His Diabolical steed ran even speedier and more furious, the whole forest moved before the imposing step of the horseman, the animals ran from His madness, the Ravens, however, came from darkness, flying to his side, picking to the intruder, the clouds grew more and more black and the too-noisy thunders threw against the agresor of the master of the forest, He owned the Gods of Nature, of the Woods, he controled the Forest, and the intruder wont be seen alive anymore. making the intruder to fall, finally, the Hessian suddenly stopped, the man could no longer walk, less run. He came closer, stealthy, in the loins of His imposing steed, he looked to his precious prey -that whimpered- , he looked at Him deeply with so much hardness that the man sudenly felt sorry of being allready alive, the Hessian raises His sword, one, two, three turns of the leaf, an accomplished mercenary without a doubt,A Master with the Sword; an only blow, the victim's head has left. The Hessian smiles, Daredevil turns around, but before retiring the Hessian notices something in the pocket of the dead corpse, without a lot of effort, he leans of the steed, taking the strange object in His powerful hand. a clock, an old clock, of silver, very valuable, the hessian looked at it for a moment, and He holded it of the fine chain; He wasa Mercenary, and He would thake anything valuable from his victims. the habit of insulting and stealing the belonges of the corpses was very powerful, although he would not find it any utility, and the money that it, the fine clock, was worth would no longer serve him at all. the Hessian decided to keep it, however.
it was a quite simple object. He liked it. Calmed down again, the Hessian and Daredevil ran to the Three of The Dead, it was a few minutes before dawn allready, they went to the clearing, to the home. Their Home. ah, Home, Sweet Cursed Home.
Chapter V.
Ichabod could not sleep that night, so many things had happened from His arrival, the days went away and came, but the nights were terribly long. So, taking His old mount, Gunpowder, through the old road, Ichabod mounts toward the Western Woods,not knowing Why, it seemed that He was looking for something, or someone...........
The Hessian woke up, it was night allready, the Letargy has gone away finally, He shivered. Someone had entered to His domains...again...apparently a beheaded body was not enough to maintain the damned humans, the onlookers, far from the Western Woods. He would have to Give a lesson to the little rascal. Mounting on Daredevil, the Hessian emerges of the tree of the dead after a bubbling of blood and a pain explosion. Riding indefatigable after the new intruder " The new Prey" as He called Him. The storm clouds that whirl again to His back.
But, that presence, that strange presence, so beautiful, He knew that presence, He was sure of knowing who it or He was, and however He didn't recognized the intruder. So He rode ferocious among the trees, more and more near the intruder, trying to reach Him. Poor little human.
the trees of the forest that move and twistes to facilitate the Hunt to their new master, the small demons that rollick with the wind, making that suddenly the winter challenges against the intruder, weakening the opponent.
Ichabod could feel it, something was coming, something that was not precisely good...it was....The Horseman! forgetting His sudden and inappropriate excitement for the Horseman, Ichabod made run to gunpowder like never. Whispering to the old horse "run, Gunpowder, I know that you can run more quickly, run!" And although Ichabod could not see the Horseman's face, neither him could see his, he knew that the demonic Horseman was already very close, he could listen the helmets of Daredevil hitting against the fragile floor of the forest, he could listen the snorts of the horse, the one, two, three turns to the Iron leaf of the sword and...Oh God, He could lisen the Mercenary's grunts.
And so, the Real persecution began. Ichabod reminded the persecution that had taken place in the same road, one year and half ago, the carriage, the Horseman, Daredevil, Katrina, Young Masbath and himself trying to survive the supernatural. Wen the Horseman puled Him against the top of the carriage Ichabod had felt something strange inside of him, it had felt so good.
"No!" Ichabod wishpered to himself "Not now" He was about fainting again... He focused on runing.
The Horseman almost reached Him, the excitement of the persecution invaded Him. ah...the desire and the lust of blood, again the one, two, three turns to the Iron leaf of the sword, a single lunge and the rascal's head would leave His Body forever, inevitably, ah, but The Hessian was curious, He felt curiosity to know who had dared to challenge Him, Him, the Legendary Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow, so He pressed Daredevil´s ribs, hitting with the spurs, so that the steed runs quicker, finally, The horseman reached the intruder, riding practically to his side, the Hessian prepares His smile of sharp teeth, the Horseman suddenly moves His head to see the intruder, and...oh surprise, it was him, the young man, His beloved Human. some seconds ago he had been just about to behead the Most beautiful and wishable man he had ever seen before. His pale and dead face froze in fright, His expression was of surprise, almost without expression of not being for His mouth half opened and His completely open enormous winter eyes, looking at Ichabod. the lust for the battle disappeared suddenly, and that strange feeling grew more and more Inside Him , burning Him to the very soul. replacing the fury with the need of touching the body of that young man, with the desire of kissing His small lips. The Horseman was amazed.
Ichabod saw the Horseman, panicky, he cannot stop looking at him in shock, suddenly He noticed The Horseman was queerly beautiful, unnaturally beautiful, high and pale, winter eyes, thin lips, generous and dangerous mouth at the same time, mane of night, armor of darkness, nightmare steed, Ichabod tried not to look at Him, but He could not avoid it. Then he noticed the look of the Hessian, His features frozen in a "surprice" grimace, His Ice Eyes looking to him, mysterious.
Ichabod could not think of another thing more than in the ambiguity of the Hessian.... He had to run, away, far away of htat nightmare, he had to escape.
And then it happened, the fear was too much, Ichabod fell off of His horse, unconcious, hitting the earth with a deaf sound. uttering a short pain groan before the darkness took Him again. The Horseman stopped abruptly, Daredevil Groaned, The hessian grunted, jumping off of his mount, to take the beautiful child in his arms, He was so beautiful, indescribable. The Hessian mounted again, taking Home his new prize. riding furious, powerful and implacable toward the home.
Chapter VI
while the Hessian rode He remembered the wars, the winter...the damm Sadness... and the empty place in the battle fields -and in his own heart- when the war was gone. ...... And then the darkness........... The little one rested peaceful on his Arms, calm, His skin was too pale, at least for such a young, beautiful human... He was suposed to be healty, but he seemed ill.
The Hessian grunted, the growl resounded low and deep on His chest, full of horrible scars. "...He Wants Me..." grunted the Hessian once more, feeling proud and arrogant again, maybe too arrogant; But His voice was softer than before; His face was more serene , and His touch was Gentle and as soft as His voice.
Ah, finally...The Tree of The Dead... Draufgänger seemed happy, he puffed with relief, their were at Home, finally.
Ichabod felt movement, and He looked around, but he fainted Just before Daredevil jumped practically inside the bleeding tree...
The Hessian Smiled Dangerously.
Ichabod was awake, but His eyes remained closed. the icy and piercing wind hurted His face while the rest of His cold and Wet body remained under warm and soft furs. delicious.
the grotesque sound of breathing, followed by short grunts, seemed to come of very close, It came closer and closer... more and more, walking heavily. Ichabod was terrified, He pretended He was still sleeping...but to tell the truth, His own fear would surely betray him and accuse him. His Heart was about stoping. to the stranger metallic sound it followed the noise of clothes of leather rubing heavily against the pale skin. The horseman was taking off His heavy cape. "Why" said the Young Constable in a short whisper.
Chapter VII
The Hessian came closer to the Young man, Walking imposing, powerful.
The horseman kneels down beside the Little one, looking at Him fixedly, how could Heaven, the Hessian Though, to abandon such a beautiful angel in the small, old town of " Sleepy Hollow." How could they leave this Human to His grace. The Hessian feels the impulse again, the uncontrollable desire. the instinct. but His Lust is not of blood this time. The Legendary Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow is kneeling down, caressing the cheek of a young Constable, inside a bleeding tree. The scene was, certainly, the strangest and irregular thing of all.
Ichabod opens His eyes slowly , with fear, to the strange touch on his face. it was...it could not be, It could not be the Horseman, His touch was too Gentle, too calm. The dead mercenary was too wild for this. surely this was another person.
Ichabod was clearly mistaken.
The dead soldier's huge, enormous body knelt down to His side, His cold winter eyes fixed on him, His expression was indescribably horrible, in a neuter grimace, His weird, sharp features stood out even more in the darkness. His pale skin was frightening Ichabod. "dead, he is dead" he though.
Ichabod trembled and swallowed with fear.
when seeing that, the Hessian sudenly smiles, the expression change was so abrupt that Ichabod was about to fall unconcious. the hands of Ichabod were clearly wet and cold. The face of the Hessian returned abruptly to its original expression -grimace - again, without the transition.
The stomach of Ichabod was an unpleasant knot in His interior. Horrible, this was Horrible.
The Hessian looked fixedly at the young man, feeling His fear. How Beautiful He Was. How little. How fragile.
the impulse grew inside the Hessian. he knew that He would lose the control on Himself and his acts very soon.
The Hessian opened the dangerous mouth, undressing lines of sharp pointed teeth, but there were not words, So that he simply closed it again, slowly.
The Hessian looked Ichabod to tremble again, and He allowed to escape a malicious and powerful laugh, not hiding it anymore. His voice was deep. Scary.
Ichabod looked at Him, broken-hearted, and surprised.....Scared. the Hessian probably was going to kill him, but, why to take Him until this place? why if he killed quickly and efficiently? Ichabod had been a fool when trusting in that to return to sleepy Hollow was the best option. The Hessian would surely torture him before putting an end with a single blow to His miserable life. The Hessian observes interestedly the expression of fright of the human, The Hessian was having a great time lookig at it, it entertained him.
the Hessian moved the mouth, as if something whispered, leaning His head of a side to other, with His big eyes of ice fixed. showing His teeth. His messy hair was a wild tangle.
Chapter VIII
"as when he spoke to His horse" Ichabod thought, afraid but deducing what was happening around, remembering the day in that the Horseman recovered his head. Ichabod swallowed again....It had been so...painfull...for the Horseman at last...and for Lady Van Tassel, He still could clearly remember the blood.
the Hessian rose, Ichabod looks up at Him, wondering what He was going to do . Ichabod´s expression was suppliant. The Hessian smiled.
"Beautiful" The Horseman though. "simply beautiful. just perfect." its there again, the indescribable languaje.
Suddenly and without a previous warning the Hessian quickly kneels down again and presses His face against the little neck of Ichabod, Ichabod cried out a little. Ichabod could not move, His body didn't obey him anymore. the Hessian moved closer, Ichabod almost cried in fear, and pain, he could feel the nose of the Hessian rubing against His neck, the warm and grotesque breathing.
His heart beated too quickly, he was abut to faint again...or maybe his heat will finally stop and he will die inside the bleeding tree.
The young Constable listened the low grunts against him. he.....liked it.
Ichabod tried to go away abruptly as the thin and cold lips of the Hessian brushed His throat, the horseman reacted on a brutal way to the movement. Like a Beast. this was the real monster Baltus Van Tassel had described on his Story.
The Hessian Grunts savagely and he looks at Ichabod furious, showing His teeth, menacing, implacable the Mercenary Puts His strong arms to the sides of Ichabod, preventing him to escape, catching him low him, pressing His enormous body against that of the young man.
Ichabod feels the Horseman's lips again bothering on his neck, and he moves desperate to the touch, the Hessian pushes His enourmous body against his again, so that he stopped to move.
"No" Ichabod said in a whisper, The Hessian closes His big hands around Ichabod´s little hands, preventing him to move, His fingers were now paleer for the pressure. No! Ichabod yelps.
The Hessian puts His powerful hands then in the small shoulders, shaking Ichabod, Ichabod observes Him, the Hessian was Screaming to him, He was Mad.....His eyes looked at him with such a fury........
Ichabod could not understand what the Hessian screamed to him, it was an strange and unknown language. but he knew that it was not anything good.
Ichabod knew that he was about to die, his mind didn't stop to think several things at the same time, and his stomach didn't stop of trembling. His head hurted. the cold wind against his face made this even less comfortable.
The Hessian suddenly feels the blame, hitting on His ribs, an unbearable pain in the chest, deep and horrible. what or who does gives him the right to take an angel of Heaven and to take Him atop a giant dead steed to Hell? anything. he could not do it. He should Not do it. The Hessian looked , broken-hearted, to the young man. disappointed. the human seemed to understand his look, although not his words.
he could take him....
And however he could Not take him.
The Mercenary hated himself for such weakness; but he didnt pay attention to the jeers of the Demons in his mind "Cowardly" they said. "you cowardly lion" ...."you cant do such a little job"..."The Big Warrior its afraid" they screamed to im in the same strange language He spoke. " you has been defeated by the smallest and weakest of all"...
the Hessian goes mad. Furious.
Ichabod looked at him with fear, The Hessian retired a little, His face is even more furious, and there it is again, in one second the sword is in the gloved, enormous hand ; one, two, three turns to the metallic leaf and the edge of the sword was pointing to Ichabod´s throat, who trembles uncontrollable. He was going to get killed.. to die. there was not doubt about it. the fire bite burns in the throat of the young constable, who presses His lips for not screaming, and closes His eyes quickly...... waiting patiently for the final blow...........
Title: Darkness & Fear Author: Lox. Email: loxclaws@hotmail.com Homepage URL: http://snow.prohosting.com/~loxclaws Summary: a bloodthirsty undead mercenary... +... a wicked , little boy....= SLASH! !!!!!!
Chapter I.
in hell everything is so...... different. the shades hides in the darkness, screaming to the hearing of us, the condemned ones, remembering our sins, ah, uncertain future and too much pain!, I hope never to wake up again!
The creature smiled. sharp teeth, curved eyeteeth. narrowing muscle under pale skin, His whole , powerful , body moved, outside of the forced lethargy by the light, the night had arrived, - "at last", a demon wishpered- His eyes, however, remain closed. something has got His attention, very far, a " presence " The Mercenary could not say who was this ......person...... but, ah! how beautiful presence!. a deep, long, hard sound, resounded in the monstrous, tored throat, resonating in the infernal places. while the creature was lying down among the roots of His very own Resting place, his Grave, The Tree of the Dead...were the condemned souls are.
The Horseman Growled, anticipating the uncoming pleasure.
The Horseman, the formaly headless horseman, no-longer faceless, no longer nameless, but loveless, would have to find a a way to get closer to his beloved human. The little one, the one who gave his head back to him, " the missing head " , the only one that ever had used his head in that Town full of fools...He still could feel that little fingers around his huge skull.
But, would the human accept it? would He accept Him? A, the question. the young and warm, healthy boy. pure. innocent. to thake Him would be a nameless-sin, even for him, the demon, the mercenary, the merciless one, "Teufel Herz" they called Him "Teufel Herz". to take Him off the light,bringing Him to the darkness. His little one would be corromped. the thought hurted the ashes of an already burned, half-human, half-beast soul. "He never will be mine" he thought, in a diabolical language that no one really understood.
a sigh drowned in grunts and laments can be listened inside of the tree of the dead...and then a painful groan... and the Demons are runing away of their hurted master allread. they fear his anger, they fear his fury.
the Tree of the Dead is far away now, the woods can be seen, the leaves, the Town... the Way of sand... of Rock... of Wood... and then there it is... the City... were one can run away of magic... of spells, of witches... away of ancient Ghosts...
furs... soft, comfortable, warm. why was he so cold then? so absent, as a dead, why? where he was? what was that place? Constable Crane tryed hopelessly of clinging to his own memories, memories that escape from his fingers like fine grains of sand. time. how long had it been from His return to this time? how long after those....... events..... in the melancholy town of Sleepy Hollow? how long after having broken up any stupid, simple, and empty relationship with the white witch? how long from the last time that he had seen the..... the Horseman...The Hessian.... He had smiled to him before thaking Van Tassel to hell...
Why was he thinking about it...about..Him? maybe the mercenary's appearance was so imposing that Ichabod was still impressed by His gruesome countenance... ah, a simple reason for what cannot be explained.
"How pale Was the Hessian.....No, no.....Stop thinking about Him!" He yelled to himself.
He knelt down in the darkness, but, what was that place? certainly it was not His room.....a dream, maybe it was a long...bad dream. another nightmare. Ichabod Crane waited until His nightmare vanished in the air...like soft fog on a cloudly day. Like the life itself.
Chapter II.
The way of wood, of rock, of sand...the Town...The woods.....the Tree of the Dead....and there He was...the Ghost, the Devil of the Winter, of the western woods... The Hessian... smiling with his sharp pointed theets and a pair of cold-winter eyes. gray as the sky.
Ichabod woke up. trembling in the darkness. sweating a cold perspiration. His eyes still cloudy. dark eyes. the nightmare resounding in his brain like a macabre, infernal melody.
But, was it a nightmare? or, maybe, a sweet dream?
"better stop thinking of that" He said to himself, trying to forget the Winter-Eyes that explored, curious, his little naked body. The young man stand up and got dressed clever for other bitter and cloudy day.
Far from him, however, after the Town, inside the Tree... the dead mercenary smiled... and also laughed noisly, showing his sharp pointed theet. the reaction of the Little one had been so... charming... to see Him there, defenseless before him, with fear. trembling to his very Look. an exquisite dish for the heart.
of course the Hessian Horseman didn't wanted to see His beloved mortal trembling before him when the.. right moment..... had finally come....
The Horseman narrowed his body. lazy yawns are lisened on his tree. followed by weak groants and purrs.
the moon canot be seen allready...storm and clouds are gone...
The day had arrived again, the night had been so short, but at last he had seen the young man, he didnt even knew his name, but he had seen him, how beautiful he was, even in dreams. and the letargy began as the sun came out from its hiden sleep. The horseman fell a sleep too, And He dreamt sweet long dreams about the wonderful Child.
even perceiving His touch. almost feeling His skin under his own long fingers. Beautiful.
The Legendary Horseman of Sleepy Hollow sighed while the darkness took Him to the land of dreams..and nightmares.....to the nowhere.
Chapter III.
he had finally returned, no matter if he admitted it or not, Ichabod missed that strange place, Sleepy Hollow, a ghastly town that had kept His soul while himself went far away, He did not know why he had returned, he simply did not wanted to know it, he, Ichabod Crane, now the constable of sleepy hollow, only knew that the mysterious town called for him, claiming For His very presence, Ichabod had missed so much to be there, He missed the making of the town, its old houses,its strange custom, its peaceful people, The Western Woods.....The Hessian Horsem... NO! he screamed -had he spoke at all?- while he continued walking forcibly, wanting to fall, toward his new home in sleepy hollow.
Finally it had been the good-bye for the hypocrite and ambitious Katrina Tassel, who had remained in New York, far from him, their supposed commitment broke as soon as the menace of the Acephalous, the Headless Horseman was gone.
He was Free Now, finally free of magic and sorcery, although this sensation was completely false, because the little Town, as well as the Western Woods, were always submerged in the magic, because the spirit of the Hessian Horseman "lived" and it was still about for those places. riding around.
The Horseman was, in fact, riding at the ending of the forest, near the town, waiting patiently. His mount protested noisly as them rided around, it was a torture for the gigantic Horse. the Horseman made a signal, asking for silence. Daredevil puffed, but remained quiet. the snow began falling around them.
"He has returned" The Dammed Horseman whispered with his very own incomprehensible language. "He has returned to Me" he exclaims again, being arrogant. too arrogant.
"He dreams of Me " he says, as he vanishes in the darkness while His winter eyes are narrowed in the shades. probably only Daredevil, diabolical steed, will know what his master mumbled incoherently that night. and he had not liked it, not at all. poor Horse, condemned along with his master, oh, but he had some sort of faith for his master, He did not cared at all about being condemned, he just cared about his master´s happiness , and safety.
the horseman was nervous. Fury and Desire ran for His Cursed veins, as always, but there was something more this time, something Unknow, incomprehensible for him, completely new, something that burned very inside of Him.
The young Man -more a Child than a man- that had returned his head to Him was so beautiful, indescribable, too beautiful. so little, so small, and so fragile, innocent. The blame seemed a painful lunge in the chest of the Hessian. It would be so simple to force Him, to take Him in spite of his painfull laments. But He would not make it, He never would hurt Him. ever. The horseman simply would not dare to do it, he loved him too much.
" Love " The Horseman murmured with scorn to Himself. Everything was too complicated. life & death should be more simple.
The Horseman Rode with madness to the Tree fo the Dead. Wanting to have mounted until Sleepy Hollow, for seeing the young man, at least a moment. Daredevil Puffed again.
Chapter IV.
Ichabod Had been dreaming again, if not, why was him siting down in his own bed, sweating cold, breathing excitedly and totally upset? the dreams were destroying Him without a doubt. But, what had He dreamt this time? No, it was not his mother, any memory, neither happy, neither painful, neither His father, any memory that he wanted to forget. it hadnt been His superiors in New York, no, anything similar, what had it been then? wonders the Youth and Fragile Ichabod. "You know the answer" His mind awnsered in a bitter way. "Don't lie" spoke the voice inside him. "Don't lie" repeated the voice"Don't lie, little Ichabod, don't lie, Crane, don't lie" Ichabod trembled when discovering that His own mind was against him.
"You Want Him" Ichabod opened His eyes nervously. "You want Him, and you know it" "Who?" Ichabod wondered aloud, while His own, evil mind answered. "The Hessian, You Want the Hessian" Ichabod shivered even more when seeing that His own body betrayed him, like His mind had made before, responding to the very words that His mind spoke "The Hessian".... Ichabod was nervous, nothing had sence, any sence! "Oh No" Ichabod whispered, and fainted in the Darkness....alone.
Daredevil ran with fury at the forests, the Western Woods. avoiding all obstacle easily, jumping each fallen trunk, each rock, going deeper more and more on the woods to sudenly leave again to the road. The horse was Huge, just like His big Master. Puffing, the steed didn't dare to stop, his master was furious, also,
the excitement that the persecution caused was delicious, For the Horseman as for the Horse. The horseman unsheathed his sword then, one, two, three quick turns to the Iron leaf, symbol of His very superior ability. Arrogant, He was being arrogant again, showing to the world, to each creature, to each spirit of the woods , showing them how Superior he was, How powerful.
the moon was covered suddenly by the storm clouds that followed the Hessian, every time he mounted, the sky was darkened and it seemed that there would be a storm, or that it would snow, but the storm never arrived. ah, that was dark magic. The Nameless power, hellfire. The Beast Roared and his mount went more and more furious, faster, faster, powerful.
The intruder ran scared, swearing to himself never to enter again to the Dark Forests while he lived, that, if He survived to his ghastly opponent and His furious attack, praying to a God that would never protect Him.
The Hessian Smiled, a smile of insanity and fury. They -The Horseman and Draufgänger- were about to reach their objective, the prey, -like the Horseman used to call their enemy - they prey reached to jump a small hole, and he also reached to throw in it a piece of splintered tree, a Tramp, not very good, but efective.
Disoriented, the Hessian tried to protect His steed of the unnavoidable impact. Without success. Draufgänger groaned and neighed in pain while He was twisted impaled in that sharp pointed stick, no human had given him so much battle, only that beautiful youth that overcame for a lot to his current prey, the Hessian forced himself not to think about Him right now, pulling up the piece of truck off the body of Daredevil, the Horseman mounted again, alleviating the pain of his steed with soft grunts and incomprehensible murmurs,
How silly the intruder was when thinking that something so simple would stop similar infernal creature, only Dark Mug emerged of the veins of Daredevil, the steed was practically intact. Furious for the audacity of this unnamed enemy, the Hessian and His Diabolical steed ran even speedier and more furious, the whole forest moved before the imposing step of the horseman, the animals ran from His madness, the Ravens, however, came from darkness, flying to his side, picking to the intruder, the clouds grew more and more black and the too-noisy thunders threw against the agresor of the master of the forest, He owned the Gods of Nature, of the Woods, he controled the Forest, and the intruder wont be seen alive anymore. making the intruder to fall, finally, the Hessian suddenly stopped, the man could no longer walk, less run. He came closer, stealthy, in the loins of His imposing steed, he looked to his precious prey -that whimpered- , he looked at Him deeply with so much hardness that the man sudenly felt sorry of being allready alive, the Hessian raises His sword, one, two, three turns of the leaf, an accomplished mercenary without a doubt,A Master with the Sword; an only blow, the victim's head has left. The Hessian smiles, Daredevil turns around, but before retiring the Hessian notices something in the pocket of the dead corpse, without a lot of effort, he leans of the steed, taking the strange object in His powerful hand. a clock, an old clock, of silver, very valuable, the hessian looked at it for a moment, and He holded it of the fine chain; He wasa Mercenary, and He would thake anything valuable from his victims. the habit of insulting and stealing the belonges of the corpses was very powerful, although he would not find it any utility, and the money that it, the fine clock, was worth would no longer serve him at all. the Hessian decided to keep it, however.
it was a quite simple object. He liked it. Calmed down again, the Hessian and Daredevil ran to the Three of The Dead, it was a few minutes before dawn allready, they went to the clearing, to the home. Their Home. ah, Home, Sweet Cursed Home.
Chapter V.
Ichabod could not sleep that night, so many things had happened from His arrival, the days went away and came, but the nights were terribly long. So, taking His old mount, Gunpowder, through the old road, Ichabod mounts toward the Western Woods,not knowing Why, it seemed that He was looking for something, or someone...........
The Hessian woke up, it was night allready, the Letargy has gone away finally, He shivered. Someone had entered to His domains...again...apparently a beheaded body was not enough to maintain the damned humans, the onlookers, far from the Western Woods. He would have to Give a lesson to the little rascal. Mounting on Daredevil, the Hessian emerges of the tree of the dead after a bubbling of blood and a pain explosion. Riding indefatigable after the new intruder " The new Prey" as He called Him. The storm clouds that whirl again to His back.
But, that presence, that strange presence, so beautiful, He knew that presence, He was sure of knowing who it or He was, and however He didn't recognized the intruder. So He rode ferocious among the trees, more and more near the intruder, trying to reach Him. Poor little human.
the trees of the forest that move and twistes to facilitate the Hunt to their new master, the small demons that rollick with the wind, making that suddenly the winter challenges against the intruder, weakening the opponent.
Ichabod could feel it, something was coming, something that was not precisely good...it was....The Horseman! forgetting His sudden and inappropriate excitement for the Horseman, Ichabod made run to gunpowder like never. Whispering to the old horse "run, Gunpowder, I know that you can run more quickly, run!" And although Ichabod could not see the Horseman's face, neither him could see his, he knew that the demonic Horseman was already very close, he could listen the helmets of Daredevil hitting against the fragile floor of the forest, he could listen the snorts of the horse, the one, two, three turns to the Iron leaf of the sword and...Oh God, He could lisen the Mercenary's grunts.
And so, the Real persecution began. Ichabod reminded the persecution that had taken place in the same road, one year and half ago, the carriage, the Horseman, Daredevil, Katrina, Young Masbath and himself trying to survive the supernatural. Wen the Horseman puled Him against the top of the carriage Ichabod had felt something strange inside of him, it had felt so good.
"No!" Ichabod wishpered to himself "Not now" He was about fainting again... He focused on runing.
The Horseman almost reached Him, the excitement of the persecution invaded Him. ah...the desire and the lust of blood, again the one, two, three turns to the Iron leaf of the sword, a single lunge and the rascal's head would leave His Body forever, inevitably, ah, but The Hessian was curious, He felt curiosity to know who had dared to challenge Him, Him, the Legendary Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow, so He pressed Daredevil´s ribs, hitting with the spurs, so that the steed runs quicker, finally, The horseman reached the intruder, riding practically to his side, the Hessian prepares His smile of sharp teeth, the Horseman suddenly moves His head to see the intruder, and...oh surprise, it was him, the young man, His beloved Human. some seconds ago he had been just about to behead the Most beautiful and wishable man he had ever seen before. His pale and dead face froze in fright, His expression was of surprise, almost without expression of not being for His mouth half opened and His completely open enormous winter eyes, looking at Ichabod. the lust for the battle disappeared suddenly, and that strange feeling grew more and more Inside Him , burning Him to the very soul. replacing the fury with the need of touching the body of that young man, with the desire of kissing His small lips. The Horseman was amazed.
Ichabod saw the Horseman, panicky, he cannot stop looking at him in shock, suddenly He noticed The Horseman was queerly beautiful, unnaturally beautiful, high and pale, winter eyes, thin lips, generous and dangerous mouth at the same time, mane of night, armor of darkness, nightmare steed, Ichabod tried not to look at Him, but He could not avoid it. Then he noticed the look of the Hessian, His features frozen in a "surprice" grimace, His Ice Eyes looking to him, mysterious.
Ichabod could not think of another thing more than in the ambiguity of the Hessian.... He had to run, away, far away of htat nightmare, he had to escape.
And then it happened, the fear was too much, Ichabod fell off of His horse, unconcious, hitting the earth with a deaf sound. uttering a short pain groan before the darkness took Him again. The Horseman stopped abruptly, Daredevil Groaned, The hessian grunted, jumping off of his mount, to take the beautiful child in his arms, He was so beautiful, indescribable. The Hessian mounted again, taking Home his new prize. riding furious, powerful and implacable toward the home.
Chapter VI
while the Hessian rode He remembered the wars, the winter...the damm Sadness... and the empty place in the battle fields -and in his own heart- when the war was gone. ...... And then the darkness........... The little one rested peaceful on his Arms, calm, His skin was too pale, at least for such a young, beautiful human... He was suposed to be healty, but he seemed ill.
The Hessian grunted, the growl resounded low and deep on His chest, full of horrible scars. "...He Wants Me..." grunted the Hessian once more, feeling proud and arrogant again, maybe too arrogant; But His voice was softer than before; His face was more serene , and His touch was Gentle and as soft as His voice.
Ah, finally...The Tree of The Dead... Draufgänger seemed happy, he puffed with relief, their were at Home, finally.
Ichabod felt movement, and He looked around, but he fainted Just before Daredevil jumped practically inside the bleeding tree...
The Hessian Smiled Dangerously.
Ichabod was awake, but His eyes remained closed. the icy and piercing wind hurted His face while the rest of His cold and Wet body remained under warm and soft furs. delicious.
the grotesque sound of breathing, followed by short grunts, seemed to come of very close, It came closer and closer... more and more, walking heavily. Ichabod was terrified, He pretended He was still sleeping...but to tell the truth, His own fear would surely betray him and accuse him. His Heart was about stoping. to the stranger metallic sound it followed the noise of clothes of leather rubing heavily against the pale skin. The horseman was taking off His heavy cape. "Why" said the Young Constable in a short whisper.
Chapter VII
The Hessian came closer to the Young man, Walking imposing, powerful.
The horseman kneels down beside the Little one, looking at Him fixedly, how could Heaven, the Hessian Though, to abandon such a beautiful angel in the small, old town of " Sleepy Hollow." How could they leave this Human to His grace. The Hessian feels the impulse again, the uncontrollable desire. the instinct. but His Lust is not of blood this time. The Legendary Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow is kneeling down, caressing the cheek of a young Constable, inside a bleeding tree. The scene was, certainly, the strangest and irregular thing of all.
Ichabod opens His eyes slowly , with fear, to the strange touch on his face. it was...it could not be, It could not be the Horseman, His touch was too Gentle, too calm. The dead mercenary was too wild for this. surely this was another person.
Ichabod was clearly mistaken.
The dead soldier's huge, enormous body knelt down to His side, His cold winter eyes fixed on him, His expression was indescribably horrible, in a neuter grimace, His weird, sharp features stood out even more in the darkness. His pale skin was frightening Ichabod. "dead, he is dead" he though.
Ichabod trembled and swallowed with fear.
when seeing that, the Hessian sudenly smiles, the expression change was so abrupt that Ichabod was about to fall unconcious. the hands of Ichabod were clearly wet and cold. The face of the Hessian returned abruptly to its original expression -grimace - again, without the transition.
The stomach of Ichabod was an unpleasant knot in His interior. Horrible, this was Horrible.
The Hessian looked fixedly at the young man, feeling His fear. How Beautiful He Was. How little. How fragile.
the impulse grew inside the Hessian. he knew that He would lose the control on Himself and his acts very soon.
The Hessian opened the dangerous mouth, undressing lines of sharp pointed teeth, but there were not words, So that he simply closed it again, slowly.
The Hessian looked Ichabod to tremble again, and He allowed to escape a malicious and powerful laugh, not hiding it anymore. His voice was deep. Scary.
Ichabod looked at Him, broken-hearted, and surprised.....Scared. the Hessian probably was going to kill him, but, why to take Him until this place? why if he killed quickly and efficiently? Ichabod had been a fool when trusting in that to return to sleepy Hollow was the best option. The Hessian would surely torture him before putting an end with a single blow to His miserable life. The Hessian observes interestedly the expression of fright of the human, The Hessian was having a great time lookig at it, it entertained him.
the Hessian moved the mouth, as if something whispered, leaning His head of a side to other, with His big eyes of ice fixed. showing His teeth. His messy hair was a wild tangle.
Chapter VIII
"as when he spoke to His horse" Ichabod thought, afraid but deducing what was happening around, remembering the day in that the Horseman recovered his head. Ichabod swallowed again....It had been so...painfull...for the Horseman at last...and for Lady Van Tassel, He still could clearly remember the blood.
the Hessian rose, Ichabod looks up at Him, wondering what He was going to do . Ichabod´s expression was suppliant. The Hessian smiled.
"Beautiful" The Horseman though. "simply beautiful. just perfect." its there again, the indescribable languaje.
Suddenly and without a previous warning the Hessian quickly kneels down again and presses His face against the little neck of Ichabod, Ichabod cried out a little. Ichabod could not move, His body didn't obey him anymore. the Hessian moved closer, Ichabod almost cried in fear, and pain, he could feel the nose of the Hessian rubing against His neck, the warm and grotesque breathing.
His heart beated too quickly, he was abut to faint again...or maybe his heat will finally stop and he will die inside the bleeding tree.
The young Constable listened the low grunts against him. he.....liked it.
Ichabod tried to go away abruptly as the thin and cold lips of the Hessian brushed His throat, the horseman reacted on a brutal way to the movement. Like a Beast. this was the real monster Baltus Van Tassel had described on his Story.
The Hessian Grunts savagely and he looks at Ichabod furious, showing His teeth, menacing, implacable the Mercenary Puts His strong arms to the sides of Ichabod, preventing him to escape, catching him low him, pressing His enormous body against that of the young man.
Ichabod feels the Horseman's lips again bothering on his neck, and he moves desperate to the touch, the Hessian pushes His enourmous body against his again, so that he stopped to move.
"No" Ichabod said in a whisper, The Hessian closes His big hands around Ichabod´s little hands, preventing him to move, His fingers were now paleer for the pressure. No! Ichabod yelps.
The Hessian puts His powerful hands then in the small shoulders, shaking Ichabod, Ichabod observes Him, the Hessian was Screaming to him, He was Mad.....His eyes looked at him with such a fury........
Ichabod could not understand what the Hessian screamed to him, it was an strange and unknown language. but he knew that it was not anything good.
Ichabod knew that he was about to die, his mind didn't stop to think several things at the same time, and his stomach didn't stop of trembling. His head hurted. the cold wind against his face made this even less comfortable.
The Hessian suddenly feels the blame, hitting on His ribs, an unbearable pain in the chest, deep and horrible. what or who does gives him the right to take an angel of Heaven and to take Him atop a giant dead steed to Hell? anything. he could not do it. He should Not do it. The Hessian looked , broken-hearted, to the young man. disappointed. the human seemed to understand his look, although not his words.
he could take him....
And however he could Not take him.
The Mercenary hated himself for such weakness; but he didnt pay attention to the jeers of the Demons in his mind "Cowardly" they said. "you cowardly lion" ...."you cant do such a little job"..."The Big Warrior its afraid" they screamed to im in the same strange language He spoke. " you has been defeated by the smallest and weakest of all"...
the Hessian goes mad. Furious.
Ichabod looked at him with fear, The Hessian retired a little, His face is even more furious, and there it is again, in one second the sword is in the gloved, enormous hand ; one, two, three turns to the metallic leaf and the edge of the sword was pointing to Ichabod´s throat, who trembles uncontrollable. He was going to get killed.. to die. there was not doubt about it. the fire bite burns in the throat of the young constable, who presses His lips for not screaming, and closes His eyes quickly...... waiting patiently for the final blow...........