THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN ANOTHER STORY

 

THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN?

With Halloween a mere thirty days away, costume stores were stocking up on every style of costume, while was available.

It would seem that, even in the 21^st century, the headless horseman, of Sleepy Hollow, remained a favorite.

Sure, many costumes were homemade, while others were store-bought.

The one thing, every store, in the area, was certain of and that was that ALL swords were made of plastic. This way, no accidental be-headings could occur.

A few, county-wide horse-stables even groomed the holiday favorite, pitch-black horses, all of which were available for a rental fee.

As far as we were able to track, the first evidence, of a new, local, version, of the headless rider, began when a group of drunken teenagers decided to “make fun” of the legend.

This by building a model of the rider, and placing it onto a scare-crow post.

Now, while some people, in the general area, THOUGHT that they heard a “hellatious” laugh, they figured that it was just someone trying out a stereo system, for the coming holiday.

They continued eating, drinking, and telling camp-fire stories. That is, until a drunken teen came staggering into camp, saying “Protect me. That maniac is after me.”

One of the attendees said “Nice trick, but no dice. Even that blood…”

This is when the “victim” called out “Run for your lives” The camp-fire people said “Not without our supplies.” That is, until the laugh was heard, again.

This is when one, of the camp-fire people went to his car, and returned with a shot-gun. When the others asked “What is that?” the shot-gun holder said “Relax, I am just going over to tell them that the joke bombed, and to leave us alone.”

This is when two, additional men joined shot-gun, saying “Just in case you need back-up.”

This is when the victim said “The rider will kill you, as well!” The campers would say “They can TRY”.

As the three set off, another camper looked at the wounds, and realized that they were not fake. This is when they told a friend “Get ready to call 9-1-1. These wounds do not look fake.”

A short time later, a scream was heard, followed by that laugh, and then two rounds, of shot-gun fire.

The 9-1-1 call went out just moments later.

By the time emergency services had arrived, the “victim” lasted just long enough to say “It was him. I SAW it.”

By the time police asked the teen “What did you see”, the paramedics said “Sorry, he is gone.”

After the police saw the nature of the injuries, and asked the campers, a unit, of ten men, went off in the general direction, from which the man had come, and which the others had gone.

While none of the search party found any physical proof, for a “headless horseman”, what they did find was heads, severed from bodies, including one, still holding a shot-gun.

What the police believed to be the “most important” clue was when the “body” was found, covered in urine. Urine which smelled, strongly, of booze.

The bodies would be I.D.’d, by morning, since the culprit had left behind money, wallets, and jewelry. The police labelled the event a “thrill killing”. While families were notified, no details were released to the media.

The families did not want to believe that their young had been killed for “thrills”, and they even disputed the toxicology reports. That is, until the coroner said “I ran it three times to be sure.”

With the exception of the campers, those, be-headed had blood alcohol levels far in excess of legal limits.

When the campers were asked, they told police that “All we heard was what sounded like an overly loud stereo playing Halloween sound effects.”

When the police asked, the campers denied SEEING anything.

Our local police were just as quick, to “write this off”, as they were to “write off” bicycle thefts. Bicycle thefts were just NOT a priority for the local police.

The police also did not take it seriously when a call came in, from a local business, which said “Workers had been attacked.”

When police DID arrive, and were taken to the “crime scene”, the first question was “Did this really happen?”

The workers would say “Okay, so we were working on a Halloween display, for the boss, and we did do some funny, and stupid, things. We just never thought that a black rider, on a black horse, would show up.”

When the police asked “HOW do you KNOW the rider was Negro?” The workers would say “We never said anything about a Negro.” When the police mentioned “You said the rider was black. That means Negro.”

The workers would insist “We never saw its face. All we saw was a black outfit coming at us. It was waiving some kind of sword.”

When the police asked the boss, who called the gate, asking “Did anyone come into, or out of the yard, riding a black horse?” When the gate said “No, sir. In fact no one has ridden a horse, through, period.”

When the police asked the workers “Okay, WHERE did the horse came from, and go to?” The workers just looked at one another.

The boss would say “Get that stuff packed up, until Halloween. I dont want any more paying around.”

The police would “write this off” as “just a prank”.

It would not be until mid-October that another incident happened. This one, in the parking lot, of a grocery store.

Out, in the far corner, and far from the store, a group was having its own version of a Halloween celebration. This, complete with booze, drugs, etc.

The reason why this situation merited immediate, police, attention, was because even store staff saw the incident, and called the police.

As if out of the shrouds, of time, a jet black horse appeared, with eyes as red as fire, and, to no ones belief, breathing fire from nostrils.

On the back of the horse stood a figure, dressed ijn black, and with a sword at the ready.

While the horse winnied, the riders body would take on a baritone sound, saying “You DARE challenge the horseman?”

When a partier would ask “Hey man, this is a private party. We aint breakin no laws. Whats your deal?” The horseman would let out a terrifying laugh, then begin swinging its sword.

When it decapitated the man who questioned it, the others ran for cover.

When the police sirens came, the horseman galloped directly at the police. Its blade, somehow, becoming fiery.

When the lead cruisers saw this, they tried to block the road. This, however, had no more effect than asking “Please”.

The horsemans fiery blade slashed through the cars bodies, like melted butter.

While everyone was certain that the police pumped atleast twenty-five rounds, into the “creature” the horse-man just laughed this off, and returned to the party, with a very deep, bass, voice saying “If insults persist, the horse-man will RIDE!!!!”

With this, the horse-man rode back through the police, who pumped more rounds into the carcass.

This time, there were too many witnesses, and too much evidence. The police had no choice but to investigate.

Their first search would be for bullet-proof vests. This was the ONLY way that the character could survive to “hail” of police ammo.

When every vest, made in the past five years, was accounted for, the search shifted to the horse-man “costume”. Maybe, the police would “get lucky” wit the purchaser.

All that this would turn up was that hundreds of horse-man costumes had been rented. The shops said that, if any was returned, with bullet-holes, the police would be informed.

When the horse-man did show up, at various football games, festivals, and parades, always giving out the same warning, the police were left clue-less.

No one could figure HOW the horse went, so fast, from place to place. Even a trailer, mounted on a truck, would not be fast enough.

All that forensics could turn up was that the animals tracks seemed to “just start” at the edge of each event.

Each set of hoof-prints ended at about the same place. This left the question of HOW to get a trailer so close, without being seen? Why had no one heard the engine noise?

When our city council decided that, for public safety, it would be best to cancel trick-or-treating, this went over worse that annual flu shots.

While no one took the credit, a huge copy, of the horse, and rider, appeared, near town, and were set on fire.

As the flames rose, a voice said “Here I am. Come and get me, you coward!”

As if from the very mists of time, itself, the rider, and horse, appeared, sword aflame, and the horse eyes, red, with rage, as fire blew from its nostrils.

With a hideous laugh, the horse-man rode through the crowd, swinging the fiery blade at anyone within reach.

It seems to make a point of decapitating the one who had lit the fire.

We could only guess that the police knew that bullets were use-less, against this thing. This is, probably, the reason why flame throwers were applied, even as police planted explosives.

When the horse-man stopped, before the chief of police, the booming voice would announce “If insults continue, I will burn this village to the ground. I have SPOKEN!”

With that, the horse-man rode off, and dissolved, before the eyes of atleast fifty persons.

Even the media found it odd that the horse-man had referred to the city as a “village”. A term, not used in a century. Could it be true? Was the horse-man actually immortal?

This speculation would have to take second place to the more current problem, at hand.

While the effigy had burned, bright, not only had the headless horse-man ridden among the living, swishing his blade about, but it had decapitated several bodies.

The morgue would have to use records, including dental, and drivers licenses, to verify which body that each head belonged to.

When the police checked for historical records, for any reason why a headless horse-man would attack OUR city, there were plenty of suspects. Plenty of DEAD suspects.

Records indicated that, while the British Army, known as the Red Coats, had, primarily, battled the East coast colonists, to return imperial power, to the crown, the problem was that the British Army had come farther, into the territories than history books said.

At least one journal placed a Red Coats unit inside what would become our state. Since these soldiers were NOT ranking officers, the fact that they had been executed by colonials was never reported.

Their families were left to believe that soldiers had died on the battlefield.

The problem was that this could be no more verified than the stories which said that, during America’s First Civil War, that Confederate soldiers had come into our state, on recon, for the South.

This meant that the horse-man could either be British, or Confederate.

Then there was the issue of a womans journal, from colonial days.

A journal which CLAIMED that a patriot soldier had been used as part of a project, to prevent the Red Coats from taking land.

The journal left out the important details, but it alleged that magick had been used, to make the soldier both immune to bullets, and to make it live much longer than most, in case the battle, for independence went on much longer than projected.

When law enforcement, most discreetly, contacted a local coven, the Wiccans verified that such spells were possible. When the police said “Great, now, can you reverse the spell?” The high priestess would say “First we would need to know WHICH spell was used. Until we know this, we may only make the suffering even worse.”

When law enforcement repeated the horse-mans words, about “further insults”, the high priestess would say “Yes, insults may increase suffering, and cause incidents.” When law enforcement would suggest “We cant order people NOT to insult any group. The results are never good.”

The priestess would say “Of this, I am aware. Prohibition, and your “War on Drugs” are excellent examples of how enforcement have yielded negative results.”

When law enforcement would ask “How do we find out what people did, so long ago? A Google search will not help.”

The high priestess would call out “Sisters, come forth. The mortal realm is in need of our assistance.”

Soon, law enforcement would watch as a total of twelve women seemed to “appear”, as if from the veil of time, and join the priestess in a summoning ritual.

Since the officer had been a fan of the “Sleepy Hollow” television show, and they had grown up round people who believed, the officer stood back, and remained silent, as the women began a chant saying:

“Through the veil of time, I call forth the one who cast the spell I seek knowledge of. Come forth with thy pronouncements. Come forth!”

As if a curtain had been parted, a woman appeared, among the modern women, saying “Sister, I am aware of thy call, and I provide this information, in thy quest.

First of all, thy must cast a spell, which will render silent anyone who would cause pain to the rider. The riders journey is far from complete, and his time will come, when the world is ready.

The second step, on your journey will be the following” This is when the officer knew that magick would be part of the mix.

It was when the woman would say “The Third part, of your journey…” This is when the officer knew that something bizzarre was about to happen.

After this, the woman would recind back behind the curtain, saying “So mote it be.” The modern women would repeat “So mote it be”.

The first part, of the spell, hit the state like an atomic explosion. This as the spell went forth forbidding all mention of the headless horse-man.

The second part worked more like a sprinkler system.

The spell was cast across the state, like a dragnet, and with enough power to call forth any creature, had it not been created just for the horse-man.

According to witnesses, who had been at one of the states remaining shopping malls, and was under attack, from the horse-man, it seemed as if the horse-man was pulled, upwards, from his horse.

Inside the coven, the creature stood before the Wiccans, when the high priestess pronounced “Innocent victim, of another time, I release you from your torment, and allow you to join your brethern, in the light of the after-life.”

With this, the officer would watch as the horse-man would dissolve into eternity.

When the officer would ask the high priestess “Is this the last of this problem that we will see?” The high priestess would say “There are many more souls, which wander the land. It is our journey to lay as many to rest as we are able to. It will be many years before our work is done. Until then, mortal, take heed. Respect the past, or the price may be most painful.”

As October gave way to November, there were more reports of a headless horse-man, yet these were discounted. This because no more heads were chopped off. No hoof-prints were found at the sites, of alleged attacks.

Still, one police officer was left to wonder. With so many souls, still wandering the land, Was it POSSIBLE that another “headless horse-man” MIGHT be just waiting for their chance to strike?

The world is full of mystery, and wonder. Who is to say what is “real”, and what is not?