Sleepy Hollow The Beginning

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Many of you have already heard without me saying another word about the legend of Sleepy Hollow. But did you know how this curse was originally started on this poor little town cast down into the murk of a hex so vile it extended itself into every square mile of its earth? So listen closely now if you dare but take care this is not for the weak of heart. But.. if you seek a tale to avail the questions in your mind of how the Headless Horseman came to be. Sit back and let's go back and take a jaunt into the past of a haunt that would be everlasting.

Horror / Thriller
Peter Gunn
Age Rating:

Chapter 1 The Beginning

The year is 1776 America is still in its infancy The colonies have been fighting a bloody war with the warmongering King George. For year's they have endured his self-assured reign over their meager gains and aim to put a stop to his unjust tax props. He wickedly has used his men to upend his Yankee foes by seizing everything they owned.

Though the Brits outnumbered them four to one our American sons had become their undone when they took to sniping their rows of redcoats. Taking out the officers first leaving the lower ranks to panic in place thus making chase an easy task when a man's casket comes into his mind his desire to fight well... greatly declines.

King George's rage couldn't be caged so he sent out a call for volunteers from the rest of his European peers to strike fear into the Yankee's who were in arrears for years of back tax dues. Word got out of his call for help in a region known as Hesse. These men were derived from an ancient Germanic tribe who survived through the years insetting fear into all that dared attempt to circumvent their designs by searing their wrath into enemies' paths. Eons old rites of black magic were still held very tight to the ones bred from these the most ancient of insights.

Now, there was one spun from this line that many say redefined evil. Taught from just a wee lass of witchcraft the like no sane man would bind to his own kind. His name, we dare not mention to negate unnecessary demonic possession. Just know that this lad was handpicked to sit at the side of satan's pride to lead in his stead and impede his will on the masses instilled with God's light to extinguish its bright. When fully grown this man owned a Herculean stature over seven-foot tall many would look up at this beast in awe and at least immediately walk to the side not wanting to try the ire of one that could easily mean their premature expire.

Word got out of this man's clout and he was specifically asked to surmount to the lead of the Kings Hessian mercenaries. Such an opportune twist of fate for one so full of hate given a free pass to cast men down without a care and dare ensnare their souls for the one to which he was embold. It was often said by the locals in hushed tones that satan himself cast the plan for this man to go to the Yankee's land to refill the fiery pits at the base of the thone to which his master did own.

He gladly bade King George's call to aide but decided to upgrade his fate. The night before he was to sail to the American shore he cast a spell to prevent him from going to hell. What!. you say a man bore from the devil's seed did intentionally impede himself from being bide to his master's side? No, it was done so this wicked son couldn't be defeated. To never suffer in the least by shot, blade, or any other aide that regularly kills men his upend would now have to be decided by other means too obscene for decent folks to know. Only in the black arts is where one could start to recognize the fell of someone whose soul already existed in hell.

The one thing he was sure to take before he shaked this foreign land was his prized stallion This was not your normal breed oh no, indeed its bloodline harkened back to 200 BC when the ancient Roman Centurions attacked Germania's lines. With an incline to immediately attack any other than his master that attempted to ride on his back. He was a massive beast with head at least six foot high Draped all in matte black hair the duo would strike fear into any that tread in their wake make no mistake there'd never dared a man to twice make that partake.

Now King George didn't want their Hessian kind to intertwine with his redcoat lines so he gave him his own legion to command. Five thousand Hessian men to decimate the American states set on their way on this February day To settle a grudge that would forever be a smudge on history to come. As they sailed across the Atlantic the other men noted how frantic the other horses became when he stepped in their way Rumors began to spread of how this man was forever branded with the devil's mark and how their embark may doom their souls too. Though festoon with signs of their align with the dark side they were well paid for their aide so they all let it go as though coin was enough reason to tough through the treason of their eternal appeasement. Only time would tell if they too were destined for hell.

They landed on the port of Boston months later. As they unloaded their freighter Our man gaited off the ship with his equip and steed en-tow. Rows of ungainly militia dabbled the scene mixed with what appeared to be officers of high esteem So much brass and gold showed its face this day there obviously was to be an American military offensive shortly underway.

He immediately set foot in the nearest tavern to quell his thirst and blew past men already in que Once the most inclined to boast saw this giant pale ghost they quickly backed away. At the same time, a Major named Andre took note of his uninvited post and noticed the rock round the stranger's frock inset into a silver triangle The Illuminati sign needed no redesign for this man generations of his family line fought against his kind Without hesitation he drew his weapon and yelled "This man has align with the dark divine." "The crest round his neck plain as day shows satan has his sway!" Our man closed his hand round the Major's muzzle to end the scuffle but it accidentally went off turning the stranger's hand into a fanned bit of flesh inset into his wrist. His Aortic blood strewn a crimson tone as it dripped down the Major's face now interlaced with gun powder dust it must have horrified all to witness such a mangled paw. Just then, as if kissed by fate his hand did completely regenerate before all their eyes. Shock and horror engulfed the tavern hall as they all stared in disbelief as to what their eyes did just see. The man grabbed a bottle of fine brandy with his newly formed hand and left them all trying to understand what had come to their land. You could hear them shout as he louted out the door "Did King George just enlist the devil into the war?" The Major plowed through the crowd to unshroud who this stranger was but as he finally made way onto the crossway he had disappeared the street was clear With no giant man to spy to reprieve his need for further insight would now be denied.

Much later the next day in a place named Dorchester Heights Major Andre can be seen riding his steed and taking sight of the British blight tamped down tight against the harbor line The call for his men to "Fire!" is announced and just as the bullets start to fly he spys the stranger on a giant steed attempting to impede their accede by slashing his men from behind with his saber. After he beheads several men they fire back but none of their flack successfully sack this man He immediately recovers from every wound bestrewn on his body The Major knows from his family lore that he has to deal with this man as no other has before by fighting him on equal ground found only in God's grace which is a place he knows only recently with contempt after just losing his wife. Her long battle with Typhus still incites anger from within him as to why God let his precious angel die when soo many men of lesser stock continue to mock the Lord and endure.

He immediately rode his horse into the nearest church and searched for the baptismal bowl to see if it was full of holy water The priest least expecting a visit so early in the morn still donned in sleepwear yelled about his horse but endorsed his course lest he continued to linger and pointed with his finger to a ceramic urn and asked for its prompt return. The priest assuming he was to bless the maimed little did he know his aim to sow light from the holy water rite which would now be put to the test on the devils advocate. The Major thanked him and rode the urn out to spurn unfortunate turn of events.

The stranger now presenting twenty-three beheaded men upended before their time to the great divine His crime shown on the blood-soaked grass his wrath canvassed en masse. The Americans had all turned around concerned to learn what was making sport of their cohorts allowing the Reds to make way into their play Their front lines were now becoming overwhelmed without the rear artillery swells taking place Major Andre saw their inevitable fail and rode to the rear with no avail though fear for his life great he refused to let this disgrace take place. He slowly poured the blessed contents along the rear making a line anyone of the devil's incline couldn't cross. The dark man noticed his stand and immediately made way towards the Major's place He was shortly within a horses span and closing in as almost the last of the holy water was spent. Just as his blood-soaked blade came to take its place into the Major's nape he turned and launched the urn back to absorb the flack. Upon impact, it shattered midair daring to spill the rest of its fill onto the fiend that convened to change the Americans' fate this day. Well, everything taught in the Major's line wasn't for naught as the blessed liquid touched our goul he was immediately schooled in the power of light as he ignited into flames His claim on the Major's life would have to now be put aside for God's wrath would cast him done with his intentions.

Major Andre turned and watched as his botched attempt to end his life turned into the stranger's own strife. His body engulfed in flames he could hear the man scream in pain as he rode away into the trees. Appeased for now but the Major would have to disavow that somehow the devil came out to play because well, no one would believe him anyway. He directed his men to turn to the task at hand and push the Reds back before they were sacked.

August 1776 things in Brooklyn New York started looking stark. The Brits attempted to outflank the Yanks by performing a pinser move to decimate their ranks. Things then sank and got even worse when auxiliary Hessians showed to embold their hold on Long Island and molded around their fortified mound attempting to take it down. Major Andre was there daring to fight while ammunition was flying within inches of his hair. With nary a care, his men charged the Brits, and coming close enough to slit their throats one by one they took them down driving further down the sound.

Though courage notwithstanding understanding their surviving manning was too low to make offensive moves to improve their show. A bridge on the edge of the isle while vital to their supply needed to be blown sky-high to give them an edge from the Reds. Its take would make the stoutest of men question their sanity. But, with the British cavalry on the way to prey on them its upend needed to be done without question.

With some looted grenades they obtained from slain corpses they hopped on their horses and rode full steam to deem who would win this battle. With no prattle to speak, they moved silently to keep unseen through enemy lines late at night when their target came into sight. She was a wooden bridge on the edge of town with only a few sentries around to guard such a large target. Then he saw it on the moonlit sky the Hessian man that came from the devil's own hand. He was back and making way for the bridge coming down from an adjacent ridge. Major Andre yelled to his men "This man's upend is beyond your comprehension." "Cover me and I will destroy the bridge with your aide." "We cannot bid him to cross even if my life is lost!"

So he ran with his men behind firing shots at the guards still unalarmed because they were soo quick making direct hits to their heads. Their leads exiting a pink mist that kissed the trestle. Such a mess to see done only out of necessity. Now dead bodies nestled at the base no more to prevent their way. The Major came to stop at the bridge's main prop He could hear the Hessian's hoof strides from his oversized clyde coming closer and closer Each passing moment he spent meant his certain death. He tied them to the support but he was soon thwarted after finding the wicks had come unaffixed. Unforgiving his fate he reached straight into his vest pocket to rip a page from his small family Bible. Though a strict disciple of God he allotted this one deviation to take down the devils make before it was too late. Quickly stuffing it in and lighting with a flint he ran just as the man strode onto the bridge's load. Then a massive explode bode the bridges undone. One at a time the supports gave way to the river's sway. Wood splintered and ripped now moving downstream to sit in the bay.

Major Andre quickly scanned for the man only to see he was healing from his injuries yet again. A large wood shard had marred his arm unalarmed by its harm he simply pulled it out with no cry nor shout and watched as Satan's skill filled in the gaps elapsed in no time this man was now back at his prime. But as he attempted to stride across the rivers ride his guide was stopped by the waters chop.

Just then Andre recalled about the devil's laws. His brood cannot cross through running water or they will falter to its way. So he did understand that this man must stay or find an alternate way to continue his slay. From his loss, you could see the hate in his eyes and refused to be denied Andre's soul. So he quickly reached for where he did keep a dagger in sheath. It was quickly thrown at our own to atone for his defiance of his Satanic alliance. It made a direct hit and came to sit in his chest. Andre's breast now red with blood it flooded his shirt inverting him into shock the knock on death's door had come to make its implore.

The next day he awoke quite revoke about still being alive. His men at his side picked up his bible to show that it had absorbed the blow. The stranger's dagger went straight through only inflicting a flesh wound. Such a lucky turn of fate but his elate soon strewn with doubt. If he got out of the devil's hand this man would soon be back to take another crack.

November 1776 Major Andre was headed back home a place he hasn't known since war had shown itself at his door many years before. A little place called Sleepy Hollow wallowed about thirty miles North of the city of New York. He had been updated via post of how of he, the toast of the town would not be let down. Upon his return, they had planned to stand up a feast to at least celebrate his return and how their priest had just concentrated the grounds of a church that was being dedicated to his late wife. Though the yearn was great to end the wait and walk through his own front gate. To finally be home to disown this war that would have to wait because he got caught up in the middle of an attack at Fort Washington.

They were locked up tight all night bedded down surrounded by reds. The Brits had pulled a surprise move to ensue taking the fort at last resort The war was currently being lost at great cost so King George got mad and said do whatever they had to get back his Eastern shore. Moored in tight with their artillery firing all night the situation seemed dire the men mired in mud from loosely dug trenches it was obvious their defenses weren't up to par to be able to resist much more.

As daylight broke over the coast they could see English frigates replete with full artillery sail down the Hudson to curtail their escape. Death, capture, and torture now did await the men but just then Major Andre saw coming forth from the North his ghost leading a pack of Hessian men Just as he thought it couldn't get worse the curse had shown in all its glory for him to behold Though their current situation dire, an inner fire immersed which cohersed the Major to climb up to a fortified post. Engrossed in the task at hand to land this evil man back to spirit from whence he began. His focus was now zoned no more to postpone for another show he grabbed hold of a cannon.

She was of massive girth birthed from a mold that was broken long ago Her barrel was at least eight-foot long. Larger than any bore he'd ever seen before and behold on its side was inscribed its name "Vengeance" underneath a Bible verse that needed no rehearse after spending the last four years immersed in this war. "May my fire, inflict vengeance on those who do not know God." Quite an apropo show for the Major to now mow down his foe without console. He quickly grabbed a pack of sacked powder to fill the bore then he started looking for a ball to fall into its breech. Then he spied all the way on the other side of the fort its assort was stacked in a triangular shape on display. No longer in use apparently, his choice of weapon was a collection only on display no longer expected to make the Brits give way. "Poppycock" he yelled as he delved into his task and ran towards the pack of steel that may be too big for him to deal. They were of a massive size their derive was probably meant for at least two men to carry but he refused to tarry any longer. He lifted one with all his might and had to fight to keep its height above ground he guessed it weighed at least one-hundred pounds. Its size made his arms strain as he gained access to the cannons bore and gladly dropped the load if at least to unfold his weakening grip and happily end this stand with a man he was about to up-end.

The morn sun's glare now making it difficult to stare down the sites of his old cast iron knight. But our target definitely did stand out amongst the rabble being now dabbled in blood from Satan's newly acquired sons that he swiftly sent to him in such a grim way. The major realized a direct hit with a cannon of this size would be a guise at best it was naturally never meant for accurate aim. Even after all the time training as a much younger man at Fort Niagara, He could still hear his old trainer Sergeant Major Bolle yelling in his ear to "clear the bore!" and "store the load!" that man was gold and taught him everything he did know. He grabbed a lit torch being careful not to scorch the wick prior to sighting it in. He wet his finger and let it linger in the air he sensed a gentle pense of wind coming from the South. Then eyeing through the site he made the calculations in his mind allowing for the fort's height. One final adjust and the wick was lit its hiss echoed off the iron walls of its new home and when it found the powder pack an enormous "(((BOOM)))" ensued throwing the Major back against the rampart slats.

As he bounded to his feet swearing to never repeat such a feat without wadding being pressed into his ears first. He leaned in to see through the looming smoke His eyes straining to see and once it broke lo and behold he spied with great pride his shot had blown the man's head clean off. Never before in a million years could he have engineered such a shot he felt it was God's lot to spot the ball to the strangers downfall. However, the Major knew his job wasn't done with someone spun from Satan's weave so he proceeded to run for his horse and set course for Vengeance's crater.

As he rode he could see the load had decimated his Hessian men upended in bits body parts strewn all around the smoking pit. Then, there it did sit he could not believe his eyes. The man's severed head wasn't quite dead instead it was quickly healing thus revealing this fight wasn't over. "Not again!" The Major yelled as he held it by his hair looking it square in its eyes. "The devil shall be denied his derive!" He ran with head in hand to his horse and set course for home. Quickly lashing the strapping to make his steed run full steam to Sleepy Hollow. I can not relate the haste he made as he bade his horse without remorse to quicken its pace even though it had already rung out its last considering the circumstance one would be inclined to understand this wasn't the norm because the Lord's work needed to be performed.

Over an hour had passed the Major's ride about to breathe its final gasp his tasse soaked in blood from being shoved against the decapitated head. Steadfastly he finally came to a stop at a lot still under construction. No introduction to take it was obvious from the make it was the local church. Birch lumber strewn about but at the top a cross plain as day inlay into its peak. Quite a bleak end for our devilish friend As the Major took foot into God's nook you could hear a haunting scream emanate from the head as if to plead though a convive was never convened it was not needed. He proceeded to rip up the floor a chore he gladly boar knowing what was in store. The newly laid pine cracked and creaked as he proceeded to unseat their neat placement. Then with shovel in hand, he began to dig a hole so deep even the stoutest of men wouldn't bother to upend the devil he was about to send.

The hole now ten feet deep and the sun's last peek began to seep below the window sash. His last bit of energy depleted he reached down and unseated the head. Holding it eye to eye it now knew its time was nigh. Though its vocal cords had long been torn it somehow vocaled a screech against its impending impeach. Louder and louder it yelled it's screams now became a hellish tone that would disown the stoutest of souls but he proceeded to throw it down the hole and dole out its fate before it became too late. Mounds of dirt were heaped back into their keep and once the chapel's floor was reboarded nice and neat the Major retorted "You must tell your boss you will be a loss and to toss your pay in the churches tray Ha Ha Ha." He leaned against an oak to soak in his work. Ensured that no devil could set foot on this hallowed ground he found his pipe and set it alight. Its fill glowed in its bowl as white smoke soaked the autumn air to bare a sigh of relief no matter how brief for our hero to keep.

Then a crack was heard from behind and just as he was inclined to look an enormous saber took its place in his neck to upset the impending happy ending you all were expecting. Seconds before his life was spent he looked up to see what hell had sent to torment the living. A Headless Horseman

Unable to set foot on holy ground to retrieve its crown it would lead to the myth that you all know now to exist. Killing everyone in its stead promptly removing their heads waiting to be returned with its own so it can finally sow what it had reaped in its final sleep.

But, a final warn to those of you who think this tale was born just to adorn a tiny town in visitor's pounds. If, you find yourself alone on all hallows eve deep in the North East and hear a noise poised to be faint hoof steps, do not tarry but, bury your feet into the stirrups keep and make immediate haste to be on your way for the devil may send his headless brood to interlude with you too.
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