So sorry this chapter took so long and is so short, but I have been so busy. Please reveiw because it is the only thing that keeps this story going!:)

It was extremely dark out. Not even the moon's lunar glow was shining on the earth. The air was chilly and dark clouds covered the stars from view.

"Why am I out tonight, of all nights?" Clara muttered to herself, picking out the eggs out of the nests. She looked them over carefully before placing them gently in the basket. She had forgotten to do some of her chores because of all the excitement of today and was forced, by Katrina mostly, to do them tonight.

Looking up at the cloudy sky, she groaned, hoping before she walked out of the warm house it would be light out, but luck was just not on her side tonight.

That statement seemed to be more truthful then she would have wanted it to because there was a rustle of bushes near the hen house. Clara looked up, a small smile gracing her lips. Maybe he was back again.

Walking out into the dark night, she could see a dark figure, standing right in front of her. Not wanting to seem as stupid as to walk up to a mysterious person, she spoke shakily.

"He…Hello?"

The figure turned around and most of Clara's surprise came from the fact that this person had a head. Although, she could see some familiar features and the distinctive dark brown hair.

"James?" she whispered.

Walking up to her, the man her age named James smirked. "Clara. I did not expect to find you out here…late at night…all alone."

His tone was scaring Clara and she backed up a bit. "Yes well…I had to finish a few things before bed."

James nodded, his eyes straying away from her piercing ice blue orbs. "Hm…I can see, but why not with someone else? You are not safe out here in the dark." He was straying too close for Clara's comfort.

Backing up against the wall, Clara tried to stall. She had met James when she was in grade school. Maybe even before that. He was in love with her and promised her that she would be his…forever.

"What do you want James?" her tone had a warning snarl to it.

James only smirked, leaning closer to her. "Clara. You know what I want."

Clara narrowed her eyes with anger. "I know. Me is it? Well you'll have to wait because I'm not in the mood for throwing my life away."

James just shook his head. "Clara. It won't be so bad. You know I would always take care of you."

"James. If you truly loved me, you would wait." She growled defensively.

"I'm not leaving without something of yours." James countered, his warm breathe near her cheek.

Clara kept her hard glare on him. "Then what do you want James? Anything you want, I'll give you."

The man nodded slowly and looked like he was thinking hard before his expression became one that frightened Clara. "I have something."

"What do you want James. I don't have all night." Clara said impatiently.

"Your innocence."

Clara's eyes widened. "Pardon me?"

James gave her a glare of his own, telling her he was serious. "You heard me."

Clara was now getting extremely uncomfortable. "You…you want my…"

"…purity. Exactly." James finished his hazel eyes narrowed dangerously.

Clara blinked and felt fear bubbling inside her. She eyes the door behind James but knew that she would never get there in time or before he could touch her. Although before she could think a second thought, James grabbed her left arm roughly, earning a yelp from the raven colored-hair girl. Slapping a hand over her mouth, he pulled her closer.

"If you tell anyone, or if anyone hears us, I will make your life miserable. Understand?" he hissed threateningly.

Clara nodded, tear forming in her eyes. James seemed satisfied and pushed her to the ground, making her whimper. He then proceeded to remove her's and his clothing, Clara now feeling the cold night air.

As James ripped her innocence from her, her soft cries, whimpers and yelps were not heard by anyone but a dark figure on the top of a huge hill near town. The figure was on a huge black horse, one hand gripping an axe and the other clenched with fury.

"Not to worry Clara. I'm sure I will not tell anyone." Doctor Lancaster said sympathy in his voice.

"But what if I'm…I'm…" Clara couldn't bring herself to say it. Once James had left her last night, defenseless and shaking, she brought herself into her house quietly without waking anyone and into the bathroom where she used some cold water to clean off the blood that was streaming down her slim thighs. Wiping the tears from her blood red eyes, she had to quietly walk into the room she and Katrina shared, she had to resist whimpering with pain as she laid herself on the bed.

"Pregnant?" I can't know for sure for a few weeks." Seeing Clara's scared expression, he gently touched her shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll be fine if anything happens." Clara nodded, but was still unsatisfied.

However, before Clara could say anymore or even turn for the door, said door slammed open and in came Ichabod, young Masbeth and Mr. Killien. Both Clara and Lancaster jumped at the sudden intrusion. Clara wrinkled her nose as she saw they brought in a coffin.

"This is most irregular constable." Lancaster stuttered as the coffin was dropped rather harshly on the ground.

"I should hope so doctor, but we need to operate immediately." Ichabod said, avoiding Clara's eyes.

"Operate?" Clara muttered.

"She's dead." The doctor finished her thoughts for her.

The constable looked rather baffled, but he spoke calmly. "When we say operate, I mean of course I will need the operating table." The doctor looked rather offended, but Clara just smirked with amusement.

Looking at the rotting body on the table, Clara sniffed. That was her friend, Emily Winship. Wiping a stray tear from her eye, the constable was talking again.

"Once more the…neck wound cauterized. And the…sword thrust to the stomach also cauterized, but for what purpose?" he wondered aloud.

"To what is your purpose I wonder." Lancaster muttered a little too loud and Clara stifled a giggle.

Picking up one of the odd tools Ichabod had scattered around him, he looked at it curiously. "What manner of instruments are these?"

Ichabod twitched before he roughly snatched the tool away. "Some of my own design."

After a brief second of silence, Ichabod started to shoo everyone out of the room. Once outside, Clara sat down on one of the near by logs and rested her chin in one of her hands, elbow balanced on her knees. She looked over and Jacob and smirked as the young boy looked rather anxious. Whatever the constable was doing in there sounded quiet noisy for she heard the clanking of objects and a few yelps, almost making her laugh. However, Ichabod came out in just an hour or so, but he was covered in blood.

"I am finished." He announced and Clara looked in surprise.

"What in god's name have you done to her?" Reverend Steenwyck's voice sounded accusing and harsh.

"We are dealing with a madman." Constable Crane seemed to ignore Steenwyck's question and went on with what he was going to say.

"What have you found out Constable?" Phillips asked.

"The Widow Winship was with child." Ichabod said and Clara gasped. Emily? Pregnant? The fear of her womb swelling up made her shiver. She had only hoped that James had not made her fertile, but still, her innocence was gone and she could never get it back because of him.

Walking up to Ichabod she pondered nervously. "Constable?"

He looked rather startled but calmed himself, no longer avoiding her eyes. "Yes Miss Van Tassel?"

She winced as he said the "miss" because she was almost no longer one. Ichabod noticed her strain and narrowed his eyes.

"Are you alright?"

Clara nodded, running her hand through her hair before taking a deep breathe and slowly letting it out.

"Um, what is the probability that when a man and a woman…engage in sexual activities that the woman becomes pregnant?" she stammered.

Ichabod looked at her suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"

Clara shuffled nervously. "Just asking." She murmured.

Ichabod shrugged. "Depends. Could be common, could be rare. Depends on what body type you are."

Clara groaned a little too loudly. She then widened her eyes as Ichabod's narrowed. "Miss Clara?"

Clara looked around before she quietly whispered to him. "You know James Swindle?"

Ichabod nodded. "Fine young gentleman. Why do you ask?"

Clara gulped. "Well, last night he…he…" she couldn't bring herself to say it so she looked at the ground.

She then felt a strong hand on her shoulder and she looked into the normally skittish constable's eyes. "Clara. You can tell me anything. I won't tell a soul."

Clara nodded. Taking a deep breathe, she spoke again. "He…he raped me." He voice was barley a whisper.

Ichabod looked a little surprised. "Why haven't you told anyone?"

Clara looked up, hearing concern in his voice. "He…he threatened to make my life miserable if I do."

Ichabod sighed slightly. "Clara, you shouldn't be afraid of that, but I will keep my promise."

Clara brightened. "Thank you constable!" she said happily and hugged him tightly around the waist. Ichabod looked startled at first but smiled slightly before patting on her head like a small child.

"Your welcome." He replied.

Clara smiled and walked away from him, hoping keeping secrets was one on the constable's good qualities.