Chapter 2

I was sweating so much, there was no breeze and the humidity in the woods made breathing difficult. The sweat made my bruises burn and I was getting extremely anxious because that "thing" had tied both my wrists with a thick rope and I was unable to apart my sweaty bangs from getting into my eyes. He was pulling me the same way he was pulling his horse. Once the initial shock vanished and the adrenaline stoped pumping I was starting to feel the pain and exhaustion in my body! I was wearing a pair of flat sandals that did not protect my feet from the stones and the stinging nettle.

We'd been walking for around half an hour and I was trying to find among the trees any light, any sign of human presence that at least could give me hope to run away. I could not believe what it was happening; this must be a freaking nightmare. Stuff like this just happens on TV! Then, all of a sudden a vague memory came to me: Class of 2008, my last year in High School. Mr. White, my literature teacher and a very random topic: American writers, Washington Irving. THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN OF SLEEPY HOLLOW.

I stopped on my tracks and the "thing" turned to me, walking slowly.

"Oh! Damn am I stupid!" – I almost screamed at him. – "Is it true? The Headless Horseman! But you are almost a fucking celebrity!"

For some reason something in my mind made a click and for a blessing and lovely moment I thought I understood what it was all that about." It is a prank show of course! This should be one of those programs that play the hard-kind jokes and pranks on people!" I even let out a nervous giggle.

Hell, how wrong was I.

"All right, this should stop now." – I said to the Horseman. – "You gave me a good spook already, I think is enough."

I tried to pull away from him but that man kept the rope with strength and he didn't even move an inch away from me. I once again, grew more and more afraid and millions of thoughts were running in my brain: "How about the car? The car was destroyed. Nobody brought me here. How the tv staff would knew that somebody would pass through that road? And why there are no cameras approaching? Why, goddammit why?!"

My whole life I was a convinced skeptical, and now right in front of me, is one of the biggest legends in history. Without head.

"It is impossible, it is impossible…" – I whispered.

I tried to give some more steps back but the Horseman lost his patience and abruptly pulled the rope towards him making me fall on my knees. I was wearing black denim shorts so my skin broke as I fell and the sudden stinging from my hurt knees was not enough to make me react. I just looked at him in horror and I didn't move.

"No, no." – I whispered to myself. –"It is not real, I am just dreaming."

I whispered incessantly, closing and opening my eyes, hoping that the vision of the ghost and the woods would vanish. The Horseman pulled once again and this time harder, making my wrists and my arms suffered in pain. I screamed in desperation:

"SOMEONE HELP ME! HELP!"

The Horseman lifted his arms impatiently, then approached me and hit me lightly on the temple. I was really surprised that he wasn't more violent, but I stopped screaming right away. Something grew inside me. It wasn't fear, it wasn't dread, it wasn't concern, it was hate. Hate and an impetuous fury that I kept locked inside and I fed day after day of beatings, insults and mistreatment from Dean, from my boss, from my family and, especially, from myself because deep down I knew that I was guilty of allowing myself to be abused. I was the one to blame for not striving to achieve my dreams, for always feeling inadequate and inferior.

And now, when I thought I was going to be free, when I finally had enough courage to escape from everyone and decided to take control of my life, a being from another world crossed my path to freedom, killing my hopes, destroying my car and, like Dean, hurting my body. The Horseman was still pulling the rope and only that action bothered me. It bothered me a lot, for a moment it was like I was seeing everything from the outside. Have you ever had that feeling, when you see on the news, that someone abused a child or committed an unforgivable injustice to some innocent? Yes, that kind of feeling, that burning that only makes you want to jump on that criminal and cut him to pieces.

-"Stop you, son of a bitch." I hissed at him.

I stood up and as if some sort of strange power took over my body, I pushed the Horseman with my bound hands, I used what was left of my strength to give kicks at his knees and I punched his chest but it was like trying to hit a rock. The ghost stood still for a few minutes until I grow tired and started to pant, I became so angry because of the fact that he seemed to be enjoying my sudden attack against him. I tried in vain to get myself loose from the ropes but the Horseman put an arm around my waist and brought me close to him. So close that my nose was squashed against his cold armor. I looked up at the place where his head was supposed to be and I saw in horror his cut neck: The ripped muscles, the artery plugged with an immense clot of blackish blood, and a splinted bone coming out. The vision was so horrible that it made me retch. I spit thick saliva to the earth and I tried to breath slowly to stop myself from vomiting. The Horseman took the remaining rope that was hanging from my wrists and tied it around my arms and my trunk leaving me just able to walk. At that point I wished I could just faint so I would not have to give a step more. I whispered to the Horseman:

"Please, my feet hurt. I am tired. At least, can I go on the horse?"

The Horseman just gave me a soft push in the back and I had to continue the tortuous pace but just a few hundred meters later I saw our destiny place:

An ensemble of huge rocks that created a sort of cave. I was reluctant to go inside but my companion thought completely different to me and grabbing me by the arm he dragged me inside. It was so dark that I could not see anything clearly and just the dim moonlight that came through the entrance allowed me to guess the objects that were around me: Something that looked like a table crammed with strange forms. What could they be? Saws? Knives? Surely those were instruments of torture. I looked up and I saw shadows hanging from the ceiling. Past victims, perhaps? I felt the Horseman was very close to me and I heard our steps resounding within the cave. He was right behind of me and he cut the ropes that were tying my arms to my torso, later his gloved hand took my hands and left me free of the painful strings. I froze into think what would that headless monster do to me? I could not do anything. Should I try to escape? To run back into the woods? No, he could catch me immediately. I notice how the Horseman positioned my hands as if I would get to receive something, with my palms up and open. I closed my eyes ready to feel the pain of the sword but to my surprise he put a very heavy thing in my hands. I touched it and I felt its hard cover, its soft, old and so overused paper pages that they had become as tender as the chamois. The Horseman hurried me and opened the book looking for something in particular while I was still holding it.

"What? Do you want me to read something?"

I thought to myself: - "Did he just bring me here to read? Would be this some kind of fetish? Is this just a trick?" – The Horseman gave soft taps with his finger in the book.

-"It is so dark, I cannot see anything, I cannot read if there is no light!" – I sneakily tried to give a step back towards the entrance while saying: - "Maybe, if I go out, I would be able to read with the moonlight…"

The Horseman realized my intentions immediately and once again, took me violently from the neck, shoving me back to the inside. I fell over my butt and I was about to give a moan but then I saw him closing the entrance with something that seemed like a wooden door, he secure it with a rock and the dark was now abysmal. I started to panic wondering where the Horseman would be. I tried to calm down but I just could not stop my brain into imagine the horrendous things that that thing could do to me. I heard some snapping noises and floating in the blackness there were a few shiny sparks. Seconds later I was finally able to see the cave that now looked more like some sort of refuge from the XVIII century: Piles of ancient books were stacked against the walls. There was also something that looked like a chimney carved in the rock and a little water well that was covered with a greenish moss. Across of it there was a pair of age-worn and rusty shackles hanging from the wall. I turn my eyes, looking for the Horseman and he was kneeled by my side. I wanted to be the farthest distance away possible from him so I crawled in the opposite direction but then I smashed something with my hand. At first I thought it was a twig because it made a dry noise when I broke it but then I looked more carefully. A whole skeleton was scattered around the place.

"Shit! What?! – I screamed. I turned my body and ,without parting my eyes from the empty sockets of the skull, I felt the urge of hug myself to something so I put my arms around the first thing I could. A few seconds later I realized what I was doing: I turned my view back to the Horseman and I release him immediately, putting my hands up in the air and apologizing:

"I am sorry. I was just…" – The Horseman put his finger on my lips shutting me up and once again, he put the heavy book in my hands. It was so heavy that I had to support it over my knees.

"OK, So do you want me to read?"

He tapped once again the open book showing me a very short paragraph, not more than 2 lines but the book was in such bad condition that it was hard for me even attempt to recognize any of the words.

"This is not English. I cannot read this."

The Horseman didn't seem to care about my opinion, he just insisted pointing out the same paragraph with his gloved finger.

"Why you want to do this anyway? Ok, let me see…"

Somnium chimaeram visum est hominis. Qui mortuus est sicut somnus iumentorum. Tantum tempus desideria cognoscit et somniorum. Patrem tuum, tempus et vita in manibus habentur.

I had no idea what it was this about but I grew worried when I saw the Horseman suddenly standing up and going to a decrepit wooden shelf. He was looking for something and, as far as I could guess, he could not find it. While he was throwing everything from the shelf (ceramic containers, little copper pots, books, papers, wooden boxes) I started to check the place again. "This cave is even… cozy…" – I thought. Of course after getting rid of the skulls, bones and from the Horseman, this place could be a lovely cottage… I let my thoughts go blank while I was looking around and suddenly I saw it. This is the thing the Horseman was looking for: Hanging from the ceiling were some oil lamps and inside one of them there was a rock with the size of baby fist. I don't know why I notice it so intensely, but I felt almost as if that amber rock were calling me.

The Horseman was still going around throwing things and checking containers. I felt I needed to call him but I did not know how. "Hmmmm, Horseman sir? – I said with a trickle of voice but he didn't hear me.

"Horseman!" - I called out. – "Look !" - I said to him while indicating the rock with my extended arm. The Horseman came and with ease, he took the stone.

I felt relaxed. I thought it was finally over, but the Horseman came back to me showing me the same page in the old book. He put the stone inside my hands and tapped the page again.

And I, obediently read:

Somnium chimaeram visum est hominis. Qui mortuus est sicut somnus iumentorum. Tantum tempus desideria cognoscit et somniorum. Patrem tuum, tempus et vita in manibus habentur.

What happened later was the most strange and scary sensation I have ever felt in my life.