Warning, massive wall of text, and some horror related deaths (only deaths, I made them as tame as possible).
Prompts used: Spooky, Pumpkin
"He's coming for you!" the old crone warned as Catherine walked through the sleepy town. She ignored the woman with a roll of her eyes and continued on.
She was used to all of these accusations. After all, she was the daughter of Katrina Van Tassel, the woman whom the outsider Ichabod Crane wooed. Everybody claimed he had been snatched by the Horseman that fateful night, but she believed it to be her father, the great Brom Bones, who simply scared off the cowardly teacher. Though now that all seems like distant history, just another ghost story to add to the plethora of those that are told in the Hollow.
When she was sixteen her father had left for a trip and never returned, leaving her mother a widow. The two were left to fend for themselves, and did so quite well for the next two years. But then her mother fell ill with a terrible sickness that none of the doctors could cure, only able to extend her life. Catherine was now nineteen, and her mother was getting sicker and sicker by the day, as death took its time. She now did everything, but everything wasn't really that much and easily done.
Mostly cooking for her and her dead mother, and trading the thread she spun. The house was so tiny, not much cleaning needed to be done. This meant she had much time on her hands, usually she spent it with her mother, but now all she seemed to do was sleep. So she spent time horseriding with a young man she had grown quite the interest for.
Autumn was in the air. The crisp cool breeze, the multicolored leaves, the quiet that lurked at night. It was her favorite season, and perfect for riding through the densely wooded trails to look at the changing leaves. The only thing lacking in this town were pumpkins. Now being tied with the Horseman, they were forbidden, as to not scare anyone. What a ridiculous superstition.
She returned home with her bread basket and set it on the table. The tiny house reeked of sickness, so she barely strayed inside it. She lit a candle and brought it over to her mother, sleeping peacefully on the bed. She was a shell of what she used to be. Pale and skin and bones, she was a ghastly sight. A ghost herself.
Catherine sighed and ran her hand over her mother’s forehead. It was unusually cool. Panicked, she placed her hand in front of her mother’s nose to feel her breath, and after a tense minute, a slow weak puff of air struck her hand. She straightened her mother’s covers and gave her a peck on the cheek.
“I’m going to ride my horse with Jonathan, but I will be back before sundown. Just in time for dinner,” she told her.
There was no reply, not even a hint of recognition. This was common, though. But it had been getting worse as of late. She made a mental note to ask the doctor about it, but she sensed her mother’s time was drawing nearer. Holding back tears, she blew out the candle and walked out the door. After shaking the death off her, she walked to the stables to pick up her horse, and hopefully Jonathan.
Unsurprisingly, when she got there, he was already mounted on his horse and walking out. He noticed her instantly, staring at her with those striking blue eyes, bearing a welcoming smile.
“Catherine! You’re just in time, I was about to set off.” he told her as she ran up to him.
She laughed. “Not without me!” she replied and rushed to get her horse prepared.
Once a foal her father gave her for her birthday, the horse was now a proud gray stallion. She took him out of the stall, set him up with the bridle and saddle, and mounted him, leading him out of the stable and to her friend.
She stood beside Jonathan, giving him a playful wink. “How about a race to the bridge?” she asked.
“Well, sure, I was thinking of more of a stroll, but.....” he stopped when he saw her gallop off. “Hey! Wait for me!”
She got the head start she wanted and leaned forward to increase her stallion’s speed. Jonathan was catching up quick, and she wanted to win. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the power of the horse and the sharp Autumn air hitting her cheeks. It flew through her golden hair, sending invigorating chills down her spine. This was what she loved. This was what she lived for.
When she opened her eyes, however, she was in for a shock. Running across the road, only two feet away from her, was a horse that looked oddly like Crane’s. It startled her stallion more than her, and he reared, throwing her off. The horse turned and headed back to town as if death was chasing it.
Her heart was pounding from the start. How was that possible? That horse vanished with Crane, why would it be here? Her back ached from the fall, but she was lucky she didn’t hit her head. She startled to the sound of horse hooves coming up from behind her and whipped around to see who it was. To her relief, it was only Jonathan.
He slowed his horse and dismounted it, looking at her with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, extending his hand.
She gladly accepted it and he pulled her up. “I-I think so,” she replied, looking around. He believe ghost stories as much as she did, so she wondered if she should tell him the truth. “I think Jack was just scared by a snake in the road. I don’t know, I saw nothing,” she lied.
He checked her up and down with his eyes. “Okay, if you’re alright. I can fetch for the doctor.”
She shook her head. “No, that’s not necessary, I’m alright. Thank you, but I just want to go home.”
He nodded and helped her onto his horse before getting on himself. He spurred it back towards town as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning into him. She took in his wonderful scent, his brown hair, his strong body.
They rode back in silence, and after checking her horse at the stable, they bid their farewells and she continued on to her home alone. After checking in on her mother, she started dinner. Soup and bread, the cheapest food money could buy here. Once she was finished, she served her mother the soup, and after much prodding to awaken her enough, she slowly spoon-fed her.
Her mother only took a few spoonfuls before going back to sleep. Catherine sighed and shook her head in dismay. “Oh Mother, I’m so sorry,” she mumbled as she walked off to clean up.
It was dark by the time she was ready for bed. She tightly shut all the curtains and went off to her tiny room, laying down in her bed. The encounter she had was still with her as she huddled in bed, wrapping her blankets tight around her. She shivered, but wasn’t sure if it was from fear or cold.
It could’ve been any horse, she told herself. A lot of horses look like that, it’s not unique. Maybe what the old woman said had chilled her more than she thought. After all, it was nearing the anniversary of Crane’s disappearance, when his ghost was said to haunt the area where he “died” all the more stronger. No, preposterous to believe such a thing. Nobody had ever seen anything clear, only glimpses. Yes, that was what she saw. A glimpse. A trick of the light, a stray horse. Nothing to lose sleep over.
She yawned and slowly shut her eyes, focusing on pleasant thoughts. But pleasant thoughts were not enough to ward off unpleasant dreams.
She found herself at the bridge where Crane met his end. The forest was sheathed in darkness, with only a sliver of moon to illuminate it. The autumn air seemed to bite at her skin sharper than usual as she slowly strolled through the woods. She was barefoot, for some reason, and the leaves crunched beneath her bare feet. That was when she saw a light, a beacon out of this darkness.
She hastened towards it, eager for it to be someone safe. But the closer she got, the more the light grew clearer and the more she was able to make out just what it was. There, sitting on a stump, was a pumpkin. A candle was placed inside it, illuminating the ghastly face carved into it. A face that looked to be in terrible agony. It sent a chill down her spine.
A creak behind her made her jump with a start, and using the pumpkin as a lantern, she turned it to the sound. A figure stood in the road behind her, clad in a ghostly white gown, that looked oddly like her mother’s. She slowly approached the figure, now extremely curious. The figure was undoubtedly female as she studied further. But a veil was blocking her view of the face.
Curiosity continued to get the best of her as she slowly raised her hand to lift of the veil. And there, staring right at her, was the face of her mother. Twisted in agony, just like the face on the pumpkin. A shriek made her leap backward, dropping the pumpkin, and she made a shriek of her own as the corpse of her mother fell in towards her.
She awoke in her bed, sitting stiffly upright, gripping her sheets tightly. She gasped when she realized it was just a dream. She pulled back the curtain of the window by her bed and was pleased to see that it was day. Shaking the dream off, she stood and put on her slippers. She had already forgotten most of the details, just that it was frightening.
She walked to her mother, as she always did. To her fright, she looked even paler now, and when she touched her, she was ice cold. Her heart was racing as she pushed back the thought that was sure to scream truth. She held her hand in front of her mother’s mouth for what seemed like ages, but no breath came.
This was it. This was what she feared. Her breathing quickened as she remembered her mother’s face in her nightmare. It confirmed her death. She out of the house in a panic, making a beeline to the doctor’s.
“Please, sir,” she begged him as she stood in his office, clad only in her slippers and her nightgown. “My mother, I think she’s dead,”
Being well known to him, he stood and rushed to the scene. He confirmed Catherine’s worst fear, her mother was dead. She lost it and fell to her knees, sobbing madly. The doctor came over to comfort her.
“I know it’s a hard fact to come to, but she has passed. At least rest in knowing that she died peacefully in her sleep,” he comforted.
She shook her head as she sobbed. No, she didn’t die peacefully, if her nightmare was anything to go by.
He patted her on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it, I’ll be back with the coroner.”
Her mother was buried that night. A lot of things can be done quickly when half of the town pulls together. Throughout all of it, Catherine was a wreck, always keeping her hand in Jonathan’s, never wanting to leave his side. She was always sobbing, tears were always in her eyes.
“Do you want to stay at my home for the night?” Jonathan asked her as they walked out of the graveyard.
She shook her head. “Thank you, but I should be fine now,” she replied, wiping her tears for the twentieth time today. They stopped at her lonely house and her chest began to ache as the familiar feeling of grief continued to hover over her.
“Last night, before Mother died, I had a nightmare,” she said, not really telling him directly, almost as if she was only telling the house and he was a listener. “The dream told me of my mother’s death, I saw her dead face, contorted in pain. I’m scared to go to sleep, I’m scared of what is lurking in there. I fear death,”
He sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, but I do think it was just a nightmare. Your mother was very ill, after all, and the doctor did say that when passed peacefully.” he told her. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me?”
“I know it was just a nightmare, but I don’t believe she went peacefully. The face that I saw wasn’t peaceful.” she shook her head and sighed, pulling away from Jonathan and moving closer to her home. “I am sure I don’t want to stay with you. I will be fine,” she assured him and bid him goodbye before vanishing inside her house.
There was still the faint hint of death inside, and she remembered to open up tomorrow to air it out. Her mother’s bed lay empty and made, a stark contrast to her messy one. She never had time to make it today. She didn’t feel like it. Tired and depressed, she sunk down into her bed, wrapping herself up with her covers. Praying for a good sleep.
Thankfully, while it wasn’t an entirely pleasant sleep, it was without nightmares. When she awoke in the morning, though her grief still hovered over her, she felt a little better. The sun, the birds, it made it seem as if yesterday was only a nightmare itself. But the empty bed said otherwise. She paused for a moment to think. What was she to do now? She had no one to care for, and this house was now definitely too empty.
Maybe she could marry Jonathan. After all, they got along quite well, and she was marrying age. She had no father to give her away, and no mother to cry tears of joy, but that didn’t stop many people. Convinced about her plans, she stood, dressed, opened all of the windows to release the scent of death, and walked outside.
It was a cloudy day, a cold day. The wind blew all that much harsher, the air bit that much harder. The leaves tumbled past her with each gust. But that didn’t stop people from going about their business. One of which was the old woman from earlier, shuffling along with her basket of bread. Catherine hesitated when the woman locked eyes with her.
“He’s coming for you,” she warned once more, stretching out a thin finger.
“Who, the Horseman?” Catherine asked, irritated.
She continued to walk, moving closer to her and stopping once she was right beside her. Catherine crinkled up her nose, did this woman ever bathe? “He comes for you, daughter of Crane,” the woman replied and kept walking.
She blinked and whipped around, watching the woman quickly shamble away. Now she was stunned. Crane? Doubt had been planted in her brain, and it had began to grow. People did say she looked nothing like Brom, more like the spindly Crane. But that’s impossible. He wanted to marry her, would her mother really agree fornication? She tried to shake the doubt out of her head, but everything started to make sense now. Even the ever present fear of the Horseman, the shadow that always seemed to follow.
Now fully confused, it took her a minute to remember the reason she stepped out in the first place. Right, seeing if Jonathan would ask for her hand in marriage. She was heading for the stables, where he worked. Now back on track, she continued, the thoughts of doubt still lurking in her head.
It never did seem right for a woman to ask for a man’s hand in marriage, so she just spent the day pestering him and showing that she was ready. But maybe he was oblivious. The day seemed to crawl by, until he was done with his job and could pay her full attention. He welcomed her to dinner, and she gratefully obliged. The with his family was awkward, as always, but at least she had more sympathy now.
Afterwards, she pulled Jonathan outside to talk. “I think your father was one step closer to accepting me,” she said as they leaned against the porch, looking at the stars.
He smiled. “Yeah, looks like both of them are,” he said and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Speaking of parents and blessings, I do wish yours were here,”
She turned her eyes toward him, her heart racing. Was he going to do it? Was he already planning it?
“I know it might be wrong of me to ask this the day after your mother’s death, but,” he began, getting down on a knee. He pulled out a small box from his pocket and locked eyes with her.
Her hands were firmly clasped on her mouth. Her eyes were wide with excitement. Her heart was jumping out of her chest.
“Catherine Van Brunt, will you marry me?” he asked.
She jumped so high her head nearly hit the top of the porch. “Yes!” she squealed, sticking out her hand to have the brilliant ring place on it. Once it was on she didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around him in a hug.
He stumbled backward from her hug with a chuckle, reciprocating her embrace. They pulled back and met in a long kiss. “I love you,” he said when they were finished.
“I love you too,” she replied. “Oh, I’m so happy, I know I’ll definitely sleep well tonight!” she exclaimed, hugging him again. “I will see you in the morning, my love,” she said and trotted down the steps, nearly running to her house.
The cold air didn’t bother her at all. She was warm with love and joy, that was enough. When she got home, she shut all the windows, realizing that she had them open all day. It was now quite cold in her house, so she laid extra blankets on her bed. She dressed into her nightgown and laid down, letting out with a peaceful sigh. That was better, much better. She stared at her ring with joy, she now belonged to a very kind and handsome young man.
Her sleep was peaceful until another nightmare seemed to creep its way in. Corrupting everything.
She was once again on the trail, right in front of the bridge. The air was even sharper now, as if it was just about to snow. The sky was also darker, and she glanced around hoping to see any beacon of hope amidst the pitch blackness. Her heart jumped when she saw the flicker of lantern light. She stumbled towards it, pausing when her footsteps started to echo on hollow wood. She was on the bridge.
Keeping her eyes peeled on the beacon, she kept going until she was back on solid ground. The light was brighter now, and she continued on towards it. Suddenly, she tripped on what must’ve been a rock, falling to her hands with a gasp. She looked up and screamed.
Placed on a stump in front of her was another jack-o-lantern, this one had a face carved in it that looked way too similar to her love, Jonathan. It was contorted in the same grisly manner. She scrambled backwards, pushing herself to her feet. A cackle ghostly cackle and thump made her whip around to see the dim shadow of a body on the bridge. Just like her last nightmare, she picked up the pumpkin and crept towards the body.
It was male, lying on its back, and wearing Jonathan’s clothing. Her blood ran cold, her heart began to race. She shook her head wildly. “No, no, no,” she mumbled. “This can’t be happening.” She wanted to pull back, but something made her crouch down and turn the body. She leapt backwards with a scream when the face that met her was the same contorted one on the pumpkin.
Once again, she awoke, sitting upright in her bed, covered in cold sweat. It was morning now. She sprung out of bed, remembering more of this nightmare, put on her slippers and ran outside. She ran all the way to Jonathan’s house and knocked on the door. His mother opened with a friendly smile, which then turned into a scowl when she saw who it was.
“I’m sorry to bother you, miss, but is Jonathan home?” she asked.
“Put on some proper clothes, young lady. And no, he’s at the stable,” she replied.
“Thank you!” Catherine said before running off the porch and making a beeline to the stable. Her heart was pounding all the way there, not from the running, but from the fear.
To her relief, though, he was still alive, shoveling hay while whistling a pleasant tune. She ran at him and wrapped him in a tight hug. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re alive!” she exclaimed.
“Well, hello, dear,” he greeted, stunned. He pushed out of her hug. “What do you mean you’re glad I’m alive?”
“I had a nightmare that you were dead, with a contorted look of pain on your face. It was just like my mother. I’m so glad it wasn’t real,” she told him quickly, embracing him with another hug.
“Oh, Catherine, I’m so sorry. But at least it proved that nightmare’s aren’t prophecies,” he comforted her.
“Yes, yes it did,” she said, giving him a kiss. Her heartbeat had returned to normal, and she blushed when she realized she was in her nightgown. “Well, then, I’m off to change and make breakfast. Maybe we can do some horseriding later?”
He smiled back at her. “Sure, I would love that. I’ll knock on your door when I’m ready,”
She jumped when she heard the knock on the door, although she was sitting right in front of it expectantly, she dazed off a little. Everything just seemed to be happening so quickly, her mind could barely keep up. She sprang up and rushed to the door, smiling as she slowly pulled it open to reveal Jonathan all dressed and ready to go.
“Ready to go riding?” he asked politely.
“Definitely,” she replied, crossing her arm in his.
They walked down to the stable and mounted their prepared horses. First they simply walked out of the town and onto the road, listening to the rustling of the leaves and the sound of the horse’s hooves. They glanced at each other every now and then, casting a playful grin. It was waiting game to see who’d start the race.
As usual, Catherine was, and they galloped off onto the trail. She was laughing playfully as he struggled to follow.
“You always get the lead, always!” he yelled.
“What can I say, I love being the leader!” she shouted back.
She didn’t realize how far they were going, or that she passed under that accursed bridge, or that the sky was darkening very quickly. All of this did come to realization when she heard a terrified scream sound from behind her. She halted her horse so abruptly, she was nearly thrown off. Quickly, she turned her horse around to notice Jonathan was no longer there.
“Jonathan?!” she called, leading her horse back to the bridge. The middle of it had broken right through. Panic surged into her stomach as she dismounted the horse and slowly crept onto the bridge to look over the hole. She was afraid of what she might find, afraid of what her dream foretold.
It was so much worse than her nightmare. The bridge was built over a rocky stream, the drop being a good six feet straight down. Her love, her fiance, was lying in the stream, unmoving. His legs were crushed under his horse, which was also still. “Jonathan!” she called out, hoping to wake him. There was no way she could go to him.
He wouldn’t wake up. A trail of red trickled down the stream. She gasped and placed her hands on her mouth, her eyes welling up with tears. “No,” she murmured through her hands, feeling even sicker. She turned back to his face, which was staring upward from where he fell, almost as if he was looking at her. His face was contorted in pain, just like her nightmare.
She felt dizzy and stumbled backward. “No,” she mumbled again. “NO!” she broke out into a scream.
Her sadness was suddenly changed into fear when a ghastly cackle followed her scream. Her blood ran cold and she froze in the spot, looking around with shuddering breath. The painful scream of a horse sounded from behind her, reminding her of her trusted horse. She turned just in time to see him gallop towards her in panic. She rolled out of the way just in time to watch him fall into the same hole.
“NO!” she cried, coming to her knees and extending her hands, as if to catch him. It was darker now, colder now. The wind bit all the more. She was lost, she was alone, she had lost everyone she loved, and she was afraid. There was no way she could get back home, the bridge had broken.
The cackle sounded again, louder, closer. She shuddered at the sound. “Leave me alone!” she screamed as she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tight around them. She was helpless. But fear made her constantly look around the forest, even through her tears. She wondered if she’d see him. The Horseman.
There it was. The dim glow from her nightmares. It was on the other side of the bridge, and slowly made its way closer. She couldn’t move, but couldn’t take her eyes off it either. The light moved closer, moving as if it was on a horse. The light was close enough now that she could see the faint figure in the dimming light of day.
She gasped. The Horseman. The headless cloaked figure everybody spoke around. But where its head should’ve been, there was a jack-o-lantern. The figure was now standing on the bridge, directly over the hole where she lost her fiance and horse. It slowly lifted up its arms and grabbed the pumpkin.
Before she could even blink, the thing was tossed at her, flying at incredible speeds. Despite this, she was able to make out the design. Her face, contorted by fear and pain.
Nobody saw either of them in the morning. Jonathan’s parents worried about their son, and about the broken bridge, but no bodies were found. Some believed the couple ran off to elope, after all, they did just get engaged. Others, those who loved to tell ghost stories the most, said the Horseman got both of them.
Eventually, people moved on, some even forgetting those they lost. Believing the eloping theory, Jonathan’s parents didn’t even make a grave for their son. Catherine didn’t receive one either, she had no loved ones to worry about her, and nobody in the town liked her that much anyway.
The house she lived in stayed abandoned, left alone to rot. Nobody wanted it, and others feared it was haunted by ghosts. And some swore they saw her and her love, haunting the house or the forest. They seemed happy, though, laughing and playing most of the time. But sometimes, the ghost of Catherine would be heard weeping in the lonely house, never truly happy.
