The Legend of Sleepy Hallow-

The Horseman Rides at Dusk

The Version You Have NEVER HEARD

PART I

The mud splattered. The rain pounded upon the ground. The wheels trudged through heavy mud and the horse inched forward.

As Constable Ichabod Crane furiously scribbled words into his journal, the rain pounded upon the carriage. It was already nearly dusk, and the sky was darkening as they neared Sleepy Hallow. Crane had not been told that weather would be like this, and he suspected that, in this time of autumn, the following weeks would not be washed with rain.

The officer looked at his papers. He had volunteered for this case, before he had learned how frightening it was. There had been sixteen claims of decapitation and murder in this small, isolated, rural farm town called Sleepy Hallow. He had traveled from his safe, warm urban city in Vermont to this farming town. He would speedily find and arrest the criminal and get back to his house.

Today, as I head into Sleepy Hallow, I wonder about these strange murders and decapitations. I wonder who or what is responsible for such gruesome scenes.

Crane wrote in his log entry.

The carriage came closer and closer to Sleepy Hallow. And, over two hundred miles away, Head Investigator Jack Philminn was getting into a carriage.