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Chapter One

Meeting of the Councilmen

Selene sat with her legs folded up to her chest to avoid the beam of flickering candlelight emitting from the crack between the dark wardrobe's doors. She wrapped her arms around her legs, holding them tight to keep herself from trying to relieve the ache from sitting that way for too long. She wasn't sure how long she'd been stuck in there along with the musty coats and hats, but it must be past sunset for them to have lit candles.

She laid her head on her knees, her long, nearly black hair brushing her bare toes and sighed silently. So far nothing of interest had come up in the council's meeting. Trivial affairs of farming, the upcoming winter that was still months away, who shot who's pig and what to do about it, the usual. They nearly bored her to tears. She was almost asleep when something they said something about the western woods.

"After all, it's not really of any use to us, and we could always use the land for more housing."

"And some more shops, so the newcomers have places to work."

"I say we build something that will attract visitors, towns with tourist attractions always make it big."

"To do that, we would need to have some serious money. Isn't the whole reason we decided to tear down the forest is so we could make more money?"

Selene's heart nearly stopped. They were going to destroy the western woods? They couldn't! Both she and her Aunt Marie had been living there for as long as she could remember. The forest was their home! Neither of them have any other relatives they knew of. Selene had never met her father, and her mother had died a long time ago when she was very little. Another man's voice interrupted her frantic thoughts.

"Maybe we shouldn't get rid of the forest."

"Why ever not? It already looks dead, we'd just be chopping down dead trees."

"Well… what I mean to say is…"

Another one of the men began to laugh. Selene recognized his voice. It was Brock Smith, that new man who had came from New Jersey. He had easily gotten himself onto the council by smooth talking the head of the council, Robert VanTassel. In fact, he had gotten nearly everyone to like him that way, and it did help that he didn't look so bad either. If you were one of the few who would look past all that, like Selene had, you would find a perverse, hotheaded, egotistical, selfish, playboy.

"Oh come now, Mr.VanBrunt, you can't still believe in that old wives' tale about the Hessian soldier?" Said Brock.

Hessian soldier? Hadn't Marie told her a legend about a Hessian once?

The man, Mr.VanBrunt, spoke up again, rebuking the Brock's laughter. "It isn't just an old wives' tale! My father told me how his uncle was killed at the hands of the headless horseman!"

Now she remembered the story. Supposedly, almost forty years ago, during the war on independence when America first became a country, a Hessian mercenary who loved battle came from Germany to fight for Britain. Then the Britain army got rid of him because he was rumored to be a demon in disguise so he joined the American ranks. He had been killed by a group of red-coats who shot his horse and outnumbered him, then cut off his head with his own sword. His headless ghost had been rumored to haunt the western woods, riding through the trees on his enormous black horse, cutting off heads to replace his own. But that, Marie had told her, was a lie. He was a ghost yes, but ghosts can't harm the living unless they possess them. Then, just about twenty years ago, the Hessian rose again, but this time acting once more a mercenary. A woman had sold her soul to the devil to ground The Hessian's soul so he could kill for her. Ghosts by themselves can't hurt you, but when you ground one, you bind it to this earth so it can once more have form. The woman used his skull to command him to kill for her revenge, but in the end, thanks to a constable from New York, his skull was returned and the woman was dragged into Hell by the Hessian.

"Mr. VanBrunt, even if that forged tale is true, then it's over, isn't it? From what I've heard, he got his head back, why should he still haunt the wood?"

A silence fell over them.

"I guess that's settled then. What should we build over the remains of the woods?"

"You know, I think it's getting rather late." Said Mr. VanTassel. "We should probably go home and decide next meeting. Till next month then, gentlemen."

There was the loud scraping of several chairs, but Brock shouted over the noise.

"Now wait a minute," but he cut himself off after the door banged closed. Then Brock yelled and there was an even louder bang, apparently he lost his temper. Another loud bang announced his departure and Selene finally got to stand and stretch. She stayed in the wardrobe a moment longer, just to be sure they had all left, then opened the door just a little to allow her brilliantly green eyes to peer out into the now empty and dark room. One of the chairs was lying on its back, apparently what Brock unleashed his anger on. She opened the only door in the room and looked around inside the deserted courthouse.

She crept to the main door and gingerly pushed on it, preying it wouldn't squeak. Her luck held out and she squeezed herself through the small opening she made. The sun had nearly set but its light glow could still be seen over the houses. She looked up and down the street and sighed when she found it barren. She took a moment to enjoy the stillness of the town, shaking out her long, dark hair to the cool air could reach the back of her neck. She was glad she hadn't worn shoes, the icy cobblestones of the path massaged the souls of her heated feet. Her dark, worn dress fluttered around her legs, brushing against her calves in a caress. 'This is why I love the dark' thought Selene, sighing as she raising her nearly seemingly exotic face to the moon which was just visible overhead.

She sighed once more before slipping around the corner of the old building. She was suddenly stopped short by something big and slightly soft, but undoubtedly solid. For the second time that night, her heart sank to somewhere around her toes.

"Hello, Selene." Said the cocky voice of Brock Smith. She kept her face bowed in respect, or rather, so she wouldn't have to look up at that smug, wanton face of his. "Good evening, Mr. Smith. W- what are you doing out here so late?"

"I should be asking you the very same thing, little Miss." 'Oh, heaven forbid!' Thought Selene, resisting the impulse to roll her eyes, 'He's given me a nickname!'

"Um, well… I was out shopping…"

"And?"

"And… I lost track of time."

"Really?" he asked, leaning his arm on the wall over Selene's head, caging her in. She made sure to keep her head down.

Why would he take in interest in her? She was tall for a woman of her age, and her hair was too thin to be pretty. She wasn't as beautiful as most of the other girls in the town.

"You could have just told the truth. I know what you're up to, Little Miss." And just like that, her heart, which was just beginning to recover from its last fall, plummeted again.

"Y- you do?" she stammered.

"Of course. All women do everything they can to get the chance to see me." She nearly sighed in annoyance. 'He got me all worked up for nothing!'

"But don't worry, I won't tell anyone I caught you sneaking around." His voice deepened and he began to close in on her.

"I-I wasn't!" She stammered, his closeness making her uncomfortable.

He chuckled, leaning his other arm on the other side of her head so that he was so close, she had no choice but to look up at him.

"Don't worry, little Miss, your secret's safe with me." And with that, he closed the gap between them, planting his lips firmly on hers.

Instantaneously, huge boiling waves of rage and loathing washed over her, nearly clouding her mind and choking her thoughts as another presence brushed up agents her mind. 'Who does this Junge think he is?!' The male voice nearly shouted inside her head. The only thing she identified about this voice was the slight German accent. She knew she'd never heard it before.

She ripped away from Brock and had shoved his arm out of her way before she realized what she was doing. She paused, then lightly curtsied to him.

"Good night, Mr. Smith." She said briskly, trying hard to keep the anger from her voice. She saw him grinning at her from his place leaning against the wall before she turned and walked away.

"Good night, little Miss. Dream of me." 'In your dreams' she thought venomously.

At that moment, the strange presence at the back of her mind grin savagely before slowly retreating from her mind like sap oozing from a tree.

After it was gone, she ran to where she had tethered her black mare, Belle. She quickly freed the reigns from a tree's branch and slid them over Belle's neck before vaulting onto the horse's back. Selene's panic and whatever was left of the presence's anger seemed to infect the inky mare because she leapt into a run and they began their flight through the trees back to the cave that was their home.


Thanks once more. If you hadn't realized, this chapter was a few years after the prologue. I published this chaoter the same night as the prologue also, so once more, please review and I need a better title and a better pen name. Thanks!

Nox