FA+
Shop
520
Views
Views
9
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Story / Fantasy
Species Canine (Other)
Size 50 x 50
File Size 98 kB
Report this content
More from Fasken
CHAPTER I
PRELUDE:
The little glen from where I dwelled, was settled near Tarrytown. There was little venturing to Tarrytown since the thick forest was hard to navigate, and only one bridge out. Our little location had everything it needed, even a bank. That's what I inherited after the death of my caretaker, and provider had passed. He died a year from this tale. Our little place surrounded by woods and superstition. The name, Sleepy Hollow.
I am Robert. I am a mix of German Shepard and slight Jackal. I never knew my real father or mother. My caretaker was named Gregory Dunlop, so I took on his last name. I was adopted by Dunlop while he hailed from Tarrytown itself.
I am twenty-eight of age, and I run the bank of Sleepy Hollow, Dunlop Banking. I don a blue coat lined with yellow. It is rather bright a blue for a coat but it kept me warm, and thus a reminder of my real father as he left me wrapped in it when I was orphaned.
Let us begin with my tale.
Part I
The sky was clouded and mist blanketed the ground. This commonly happens here, and thus many people believe in the ghost stories. They told, or as I have heard, of a certain Ichabod Crane who came here as a schoolmaster. As the story went he fled from the legendary and mythical “Headless Horseman.”
None say what happened to him, but many claim to have seen the horseman. One of the reasons no one leaves to outside of Sleepy Hollow. The only exit was through the forest upon which this horseman resides. I did not believe in such a story, since I was raised a skeptic. Although there had been records of the name Ichabod here, that story was twenty years old. I was age of eight then, and I recall no horseman or schoolmaster. But such a story was strong here and I admit in some occasion I questioned, but in all I did not believe in the story.
The mist covered the ground, and as legend went, that is when the horseman is seeking for a head. “Where the mist be, is where he may step.” I had a sudden urge to walk in it that one day. I couldn't explain the feeling and compelling, but I so desired to travel in the mist.
My dearest friend and co-owner, John Steichmann, begged me not to go, but the great flourishing of anxiety and need to venture overwhelmed me.
John was a chubby hound, with white fur on his muzzle and dark brown ears. “I have a terrible feeling Robert!” He whined, “Not just because of the horseman, but I feel something bad will happen if you go.”
I replied in my confidence and reassuring, “What could happen? If the horseman did exist, I doubt he'd desire a careless head as mine.”
I stepped outside the bank, which was also where I slept, and started walking aimlessly toward the forest. John yelped in fear and then locked the door behind him as he chased after me.
John retained his pleas, “Please Robert! Our fathers...”
I swiftly interrupted a correction toward him, “Gregory Dunlop was a great man and I thank him for raising me, but he made it clear that he was not my father.”
“Fine! My father and your....Mister Dunlop were friends since they were children, and we have as well! So I implore! Please turn back!” John reinstated.
I simply stretched a smug smile upon my face and continued where I was yearning to go.
As my uncontrolled will gathered me I found myself in the pumpkin patch. It was set just outside the limits and bordering the imaginary line where it was deemed unsafe for the horseman. The feeling of want dissipated and I felt unaccomplished.
I sat on a large pumpkin and frowned, “What was this for? I couldn't stop myself and I just go this far?”
John walked to me and patted my shoulder, “Don't feel low. You came here for some reason, but now we may go back.”
I nodded in defeat and stood from my pumpkin throne.
I turned to John, “You are a true friend.”
John opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a horse whinny. I could not only feel my heart stop, but I felt John's heart cease as well. Through the fog a slow moving silhouette of a horse and a rider manifest. John takes a few steps back, as I froze.
The figure cleared to our perspective, and beheld a simple horseman. His head attached. I sighed and looked him over. He had a normal looking face of a fox and nobody I recognized. I thought it odd a stranger here, but it was normal. His attire however, was a black cape and black coat and pants. The clothes he bore were like a military uniform, but it was all black.
“Sorry sir! You startled us.” I replied regaining my composure.
I glanced at John who was still terrified, then I turned back to the horseman, “I am Robert Dunlop. I am the local banker here in Sleepy Hollow. What is your name?”
The horseman just stared back.
“Do you have a name?” I reiterated
Yet he just sat there on his gray horse. I glanced at the horse and it seemed to have no eyes. The sockets were hollow and the animal never blinked. My heart began to pace as I looked back up to the fox.
The rider extended his arm outward then it slowly clutched his scalp. I froze once again and John trembled and shouted to me, “RUN!!!”
The Horseman tugged upon his scalp and uplifted his head. The foxes expression faded from a serious stare to a jaw dropped dead look as the head left his body. The eyes rolled back and remained motionless except when the body shook it. By the scalp the horseman leaned and held out the head at a forward stretch, as if showing me that it was not his. Then the beheaded body drop the fox and sat straight up in a proud posture. I knew, despite all skepticism I was raised, that this was the Headless Horseman.
I froze in fear. For a brief moment I stared in the invisible eyes of the horseman with no head. As my mind searched for control I whispered in a stammer, “T-t-the Hor-horse...”
When the horse that carried the decapitated specter took a step forward, I was released from my fear, yet I had to run. John was almost relieved to see me finally attempt to flee and he in turn look the lead. Only thing I heard was the increasing gallop from the pursuer. Tears flowed through my eyes as I feared I could not outrun a horse, much less a phantom, yet I still tried.
My fears were confirmed shortly, and before I left the patch. A swift pain to my neck and my body went numb. My mind cleared but fear still remained as I rolled to the ground. Upside down my view, and stood before me a figure wearing a blue coat lined with yellow. The figure stood for a brief moment then fell to reveal it headless. The void of where the head was, surrounded exposed flesh and blood.
I couldn't speak and obviously couldn't move. I just lay there a head in despair. I heard, however, John cry out to me and the horseman approaching me. The riding ghost dismounted the horse and stepped before me. He lifted me and turned me right up. The invisible eyes inspected me and then my sight went dark. The last thing I heard was John crying out once more.
Next: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/1711979/
PRELUDE:
The little glen from where I dwelled, was settled near Tarrytown. There was little venturing to Tarrytown since the thick forest was hard to navigate, and only one bridge out. Our little location had everything it needed, even a bank. That's what I inherited after the death of my caretaker, and provider had passed. He died a year from this tale. Our little place surrounded by woods and superstition. The name, Sleepy Hollow.
I am Robert. I am a mix of German Shepard and slight Jackal. I never knew my real father or mother. My caretaker was named Gregory Dunlop, so I took on his last name. I was adopted by Dunlop while he hailed from Tarrytown itself.
I am twenty-eight of age, and I run the bank of Sleepy Hollow, Dunlop Banking. I don a blue coat lined with yellow. It is rather bright a blue for a coat but it kept me warm, and thus a reminder of my real father as he left me wrapped in it when I was orphaned.
Let us begin with my tale.
Part I
The sky was clouded and mist blanketed the ground. This commonly happens here, and thus many people believe in the ghost stories. They told, or as I have heard, of a certain Ichabod Crane who came here as a schoolmaster. As the story went he fled from the legendary and mythical “Headless Horseman.”
None say what happened to him, but many claim to have seen the horseman. One of the reasons no one leaves to outside of Sleepy Hollow. The only exit was through the forest upon which this horseman resides. I did not believe in such a story, since I was raised a skeptic. Although there had been records of the name Ichabod here, that story was twenty years old. I was age of eight then, and I recall no horseman or schoolmaster. But such a story was strong here and I admit in some occasion I questioned, but in all I did not believe in the story.
The mist covered the ground, and as legend went, that is when the horseman is seeking for a head. “Where the mist be, is where he may step.” I had a sudden urge to walk in it that one day. I couldn't explain the feeling and compelling, but I so desired to travel in the mist.
My dearest friend and co-owner, John Steichmann, begged me not to go, but the great flourishing of anxiety and need to venture overwhelmed me.
John was a chubby hound, with white fur on his muzzle and dark brown ears. “I have a terrible feeling Robert!” He whined, “Not just because of the horseman, but I feel something bad will happen if you go.”
I replied in my confidence and reassuring, “What could happen? If the horseman did exist, I doubt he'd desire a careless head as mine.”
I stepped outside the bank, which was also where I slept, and started walking aimlessly toward the forest. John yelped in fear and then locked the door behind him as he chased after me.
John retained his pleas, “Please Robert! Our fathers...”
I swiftly interrupted a correction toward him, “Gregory Dunlop was a great man and I thank him for raising me, but he made it clear that he was not my father.”
“Fine! My father and your....Mister Dunlop were friends since they were children, and we have as well! So I implore! Please turn back!” John reinstated.
I simply stretched a smug smile upon my face and continued where I was yearning to go.
As my uncontrolled will gathered me I found myself in the pumpkin patch. It was set just outside the limits and bordering the imaginary line where it was deemed unsafe for the horseman. The feeling of want dissipated and I felt unaccomplished.
I sat on a large pumpkin and frowned, “What was this for? I couldn't stop myself and I just go this far?”
John walked to me and patted my shoulder, “Don't feel low. You came here for some reason, but now we may go back.”
I nodded in defeat and stood from my pumpkin throne.
I turned to John, “You are a true friend.”
John opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a horse whinny. I could not only feel my heart stop, but I felt John's heart cease as well. Through the fog a slow moving silhouette of a horse and a rider manifest. John takes a few steps back, as I froze.
The figure cleared to our perspective, and beheld a simple horseman. His head attached. I sighed and looked him over. He had a normal looking face of a fox and nobody I recognized. I thought it odd a stranger here, but it was normal. His attire however, was a black cape and black coat and pants. The clothes he bore were like a military uniform, but it was all black.
“Sorry sir! You startled us.” I replied regaining my composure.
I glanced at John who was still terrified, then I turned back to the horseman, “I am Robert Dunlop. I am the local banker here in Sleepy Hollow. What is your name?”
The horseman just stared back.
“Do you have a name?” I reiterated
Yet he just sat there on his gray horse. I glanced at the horse and it seemed to have no eyes. The sockets were hollow and the animal never blinked. My heart began to pace as I looked back up to the fox.
The rider extended his arm outward then it slowly clutched his scalp. I froze once again and John trembled and shouted to me, “RUN!!!”
The Horseman tugged upon his scalp and uplifted his head. The foxes expression faded from a serious stare to a jaw dropped dead look as the head left his body. The eyes rolled back and remained motionless except when the body shook it. By the scalp the horseman leaned and held out the head at a forward stretch, as if showing me that it was not his. Then the beheaded body drop the fox and sat straight up in a proud posture. I knew, despite all skepticism I was raised, that this was the Headless Horseman.
I froze in fear. For a brief moment I stared in the invisible eyes of the horseman with no head. As my mind searched for control I whispered in a stammer, “T-t-the Hor-horse...”
When the horse that carried the decapitated specter took a step forward, I was released from my fear, yet I had to run. John was almost relieved to see me finally attempt to flee and he in turn look the lead. Only thing I heard was the increasing gallop from the pursuer. Tears flowed through my eyes as I feared I could not outrun a horse, much less a phantom, yet I still tried.
My fears were confirmed shortly, and before I left the patch. A swift pain to my neck and my body went numb. My mind cleared but fear still remained as I rolled to the ground. Upside down my view, and stood before me a figure wearing a blue coat lined with yellow. The figure stood for a brief moment then fell to reveal it headless. The void of where the head was, surrounded exposed flesh and blood.
I couldn't speak and obviously couldn't move. I just lay there a head in despair. I heard, however, John cry out to me and the horseman approaching me. The riding ghost dismounted the horse and stepped before me. He lifted me and turned me right up. The invisible eyes inspected me and then my sight went dark. The last thing I heard was John crying out once more.
Next: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/1711979/
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Canine (Other)
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 98 kB
Comments