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Closure: Chapter Three

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Chapter Three

Darkness settled uneasily over Sleepy Hollow, as Brom ordered Glen and Theodore to split up. They would cover more ground that way, and with any luck, be able to find the Horseman before he claimed his next victim.

Hours passed as Brom remained on his horse's saddle. The horse himself, a brazen stallion named Lucky, was clearly disturbed by the supernatural presence that plagued the village. Lucky shifted, and snorted in the cool evening air.

He couldn't say how long he was there before he heard the scream. He rode toward the sound, clinging on to the desperate prayer that maybe, just maybe—

And then he'd seen the Horseman in the doorway of the Killian home, carrying a bag stuffed to full capacity. Brom had no illusions as to what was in that sack. He only hoped that Crane and young Masbath were not among the victims.

I'm too late.

A surge of anger swept over him, and he gritted his teeth. The Horseman would not claim another victim, not if he could help it. Taking careful aim, he fired.

His aim was true. The Horseman was hit squarely in the chest, and Brom dismounted, still holding his rifle.

Then his stomach dropped somewhere near his feet. Because as soon as he reached the Horseman, he sat up.

But how can he—

It didn't occur to Brom that a walking ghost could not be dealt with the same way as a hunted animal. He bent down to reload his rifle. It didn't occur to him that two bullets would not be any more effective than one had been. All he knew was that he had failed to protect the Killian family.

The Horseman walked right past him, and Brom was nearly knocked over by the stench of rotting flesh and bone that radiated from the ghost. Taking a deep breath, Brom attacked the Horseman with his rifle, using it as a club.

Then everything began to blur. It was as though it were happening in flashes, instead of a continuous series of events in his memory. All he knew was that he had to stop the Horseman. He couldn't let him claim another victim.

The Horseman blocked his attack, sending him flying to the ground.

Brom got up, charged his enemy—he threw his hunting knife, and it landed directly in the Horseman's back.

His enemy turned—the dagger flew back almost before Brom could process—

The pain was intense, like fire—

-find a new weapon, must hurry!

Brom's eyes lit on a pair of scythes in the hay, left outside a nearby barn. He limped over and seized them.

-Constable Crane!

Ichabod Crane was by his side, disheveled but alive. Brom could only assume that meant young Masbath was alive, also. He was indescribably relieved.

"He's not after us!" Ichabod cried.

Brom shrugged him off. He had to get to the Hessian before he struck again—it could be anyone next. Himself, Will, Katrina—anyone!

Over my dead body, Hessian!

"I'll get him!" Brom growled.

-he struck with the scythe—

-Horseman was undeterred by the hit—Brom tried again—

-Crane entered the fray--

Crane finally landed a hit with an axe, and Brom rushed to his side. The pain in his leg was getting worse...

"We cannot win this!" Ichabod shouted, and Brom was forced to agree. They had to get to safety. It had suddenly hit him that he would not be of help to anyone if he, too, were killed.

-the covered bridge!

He and Crane saw it at the same time, and ran toward it. Ichabod reached out to help Brom, as his limp slowed him down. There was fear in Crane's eyes, but at the moment that didn't matter. The fear was not in control, and he and Brom were on the same side.

Finally, they reached the other side of the covered bridge.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.


Slow, deliberate...could the ghost have made himself invisible?

Where was he?

Thud.

Thud.


Then it hit him. He's on top of the bridge!

Both he and Crane looked up, and something large and heavy dropped almost noiselessly behind them. They turned, meeting one another's eyes briefly—

NO!

The Horseman's sword struck, this time in Ichabod Crane's shoulder, flinging him head over heels.

He wanted a fight. And Brom, though weakened, was going to give him one.

Strike, parry

I can't win this.


The blood loss was making him dizzy—

Almost got him—

The pain seared across his abdomen, flashing like lightning—

Something struck his head—

Crash!

Flying—

Falling—

The shock of cold water...red mist engulfing him—


*****************************************************


"The tour is over," Brom's double said, with the same irritating smirk. They stood on the bridge, precisely where they had begun.

"What happens now? Do I die?" Brom asked, turning to face his double.

The double smiled. "That's for you to decide, Bones. Do you want to live, or die? You won't win against the Hessian, you know. Will you still return?"

Brom thought of the others in Sleepy Hollow. His family and friends. He couldn't leave them, even if it meant fighting a losing battle.

"I will," he said clearly.

Then he heard a new voice...it sounded like Willem, but from very far away...

"Herb for healing,
Herb for hope
Herb for strength
Herb, help him cope,"


"They're calling you," his double said quietly.

Will's voice grew stronger...

"I call on thee,
Spirits of water, Earth,
Fire and air, to aid me in this healing!
Thrice I bind thee, and so with nine calls, you will heal!
Brom be well, Brom be free of sickness!
So mote it be!

So mote it be!
So mote it be!"


And then he was falling again, flying through empty space and time—

Then everything went black.
I actually started writing this several years ago, and recently began working on it again. This is a fan fiction based on the 1999 Tim Burton film "Sleepy Hollow".

In this alternate version, Brom van Brunt survives his encounter with the Hessian, and joins forces with Ichabod Crane to take down the monster once and for all.

This was originally published on Fanfiction.net in 2004, under my pen name there, Shandethe Sanders. (Don't ask.)
© 2011 - 2024 MademoiselleMeg
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AliceInAutumn's avatar
hooray for sleepy hollow!