Deep in the darkest of woods Ichabod Crane was making his way home, the moon's full phase and the creaks and whistling of the winds causing him to watch his back every time he heard the sounds.
Ichabod ran Gunpowder, his horse, faster then usual. The reason being that tonight was all Hallows Eve and for a coward like Ichabod this was the worst night of the year.
For tonight, the horseman rides.
The sound of hooves and the huffing of hard breaths made Ichabod stop breathing, he turned and glanced over his shoulder.
There before his eyes was the man he feared most, His horse the deepest of blacks, the stead's eyes the glowing red of blood on fresh snow.. Those eyes looked to his.
He let out a strangled scream and Gun powder was off, the horseman trailing close behind.
Ichabod was now having a panic attack, he was certain he was hearing his name but the tone was nothing in the matter of murder but more on the lusty side.
As he was lost in the curiosity of his name being called he didn't notice the horseman at his side until he was grabbed around the waist and yanked onto the Hessian's horse.
He shoved and kicked at the horseman but this didn't stop him from holding Ichabod tightly against him. The horseman yanked Ichabod around to face him, forcing Crane's legs on either side of him.
Ichabod froze, the horseman's hands where now squeezing his rump through his tight slacks, pulling him closer until Crane could feel the cold hard length of the horsemen straining against his thighs.
He looked up to where the horseman's head would be but saw nothing but the trees behind him. He tried to inch away, but the horseman was quick to pull him back to him. He yanked Crane up and then his pants down.
"Ichabod…" His name came again and in that same lusty tone.
"Is it you who whispers my name, Horseman?" Crane shuddered as the horseman rocked his hips in agreement, his thumb brushing over his plump lips. The feel was lovely, Ichabod had even closed his eyes, waiting for a kiss he was not to receive from a headless horseman.
With his realization of his silly mistake he quickly opened his eyes to the horseman opening his shirt and brushing his large hands over his chest and nipples. He would have pulled back but the horseman placed a hand on his hip pulling him back.
"Stay Ichabod." The voice beckoned to him yet again and he was beginning to long to see the lips that cast such a spell over him.
"You'll not have my head?" His cowardly ways becoming obvious again.
"Ichabod." The voice assured him and he leaned into the horseman's strong chest.
"Then have your way Horseman."
Ichabod tensed as the horseman hopped off of his horse, pulling him down with him. He was carried through a line of thick trees and passed them he saw the haunting sight of the tree of the dead, it's branches looking a if it where gnashing at the sky and a thick red goo dripped from the trunk's bark.
Crane jerked forward before the Hessian could place his back against the crimson goo.
The horseman objected to his action and shoved him back into the tree, the warmth causing Ichabod to believe all the more that this goo was blood.
"Ichabod." At the voice he stilled and leaned against the tree, squeezing his eyes shut tight, trying hard not to think of the warm substance at his back.
The Hessian slide himself between Crane's legs, pushing him back into the slick tree as he slipped his own pants down. He slipped himself inside, no pain erupted to Crane's surprise, as if the Hessian's length was readied just for him.
"Ichabod." His name came again but he closed his eyes to it. Pushing his face into the Hessian's chest as he was rocked into.
As it went on he pushed his face deeper into the Hessian's chest, his length becoming more rigged and warm with in him.
Crane clung to him as it became to much to take, his hands tight in the Hessian's shirt and the other latched onto the stiff collar of his cape.
"Ichabod." The voice called again but know it seemed as thought it were in his ear, a soft warm breath following the voice.
Ichabod tilted back, his eyes meet the eyes of horseman's newly grown head. Their color the deepest of purple, haunting and alluring all in same. The Hessian's handsome face came down on Ichabod's, granting the kiss he had wished for.
Ichabod held tighter to the Hessian as he felt himself being pulled into the depths of the tree of the dead, tugging himself out of it as he feared what would come next.
"Ichabod." The horseman asked against Crane's lips.
"Yes." He kissed the horseman and let himself be pulled down into the tree. The Hessian's steed fallowed suite as the two vanished.
Ichabod crane was never seen nor head from again in the little village of sleepy hollow.