Sleepy Hollow Fanfiction

Last Wednesday was indeed, my birthday.

I had a wonderful gluten free grilled cheese, visited my favorite, eclectic bar, and received a POP TV GOB Bluth vinyl figurine :')

This 22nd birthday was made possible by Sarah Michelle Gellar, Yoohoos, and Neopets. xoxo.

In lieu of having quite a busy, previous week, and working an obnoxious amount, I will share with you a mini Sleepy Hollow Fanfic that I wrote a couple months ago (in the style of Washington Irving).

                                    The Curious Happening With Katrina Van Tassel

Just then he saw the goblin rising in his stirrups, and in the very act of

hurling his head at him. Ichabod endeavored to dodge the horrible missile,

but too late. It encountered his cranium with a tremendous crash—he was

tumbled headlong into the dust, and Gunpowder, the black steed, and the

goblin rider, passed by like a whirlwind. (Irving 37)

Ichabod slowly raised his head, only to see his ghoul offender galloping through the night before him, with a deserting Gunpowder on the Hessian’s heels. He jumped to his shaking legs, a bit disoriented from the blow. Quivering, he ran back into the depth of the wood as quickly as his length would take him.

Branches whipped at his upper body and knotted roots grabbed his ankles, slowing his pace.

“The whole forest is enchanted!” gasped he, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me”*

Ichabod continued stumbling through the forested ground, but was stopped when a coy voice echoed around him,

“My dearest Ichabod, I can assure you that you will find protection with me.”

Ichabod halted and lifted his eyes to see the young, beautiful Katrina, completely untouched by the dark evils of the wood. If anything, he imagined, she had a slight glow, and a bit of rose to her soft cheeks.

“What sweet apparition is this?” sang a startled Ichabod. “Fair Katrina Van Tassel, there are dark forces afoot. The Hessian, he came with night fall and nearly terrorized me into a deathly fright. We must make haste with God’s speed” Ichabod finished, while dutifully making the sign of the cross.

“But foolish Ichabod”, hummed Katrina, “I rather fancy the cloak of the wood, especially at this late hour. I have been looking for you. I pray that you stay a while with me, for we have hardly the opportunity to properly converse.”

“Beautiful lady,” responded a slightly more irritated Ichabod, “I will not let you fall to the witchcraft that lurks about this haunted forest. The Hessian will surely be back, and I will get us to safety.” He began forward, reaching for Katrina’s plump upper arm, when she let out a cackle. Ichabod, taken aback, noticed a sudden, peculiar height difference in Katrina’s usually delicate frame. He looked to her shoes and saw that she was indeed levitating off of the ground!

“Katrina!” gasped Ichabod, “Witchcraft! You are a witch!” Practically in hysterics, Ichabod tried to step away but found that his feet were firmly planted in the ground.*

“You have paralyzed me, you demon! Tricked me into love, you bewitched coquette!”

Katrina morphed her lovely face into a slight pout.

“But Ichabod, I thought that you had taken quite an interest in me, and would court me despite our minor differences,” she closed her eyes and laid back her head. Suddenly, a cooked Cornish hen and a bowl of corn popped up in each of her hands. The smell was intoxicating, and soon wafted to Ichabod’s vulnerable snout.

“Stop this, this instant! Unhand me!” demanded a weak Ichabod. Despite his fears, he was finding himself alarmingly drawn to the handsome Katrina and her plates full of delicious food. He could feel his stomach tremble and growl while his heart raced in his chest.

“As you wish”, sighed Katrina. The hen and corn vanished as quickly as they had come, and she floated back to the ground. Ichabod regained power of his legs, and approached the witch.

“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live”* Ichabod hissed, feeling betrayed by his devotion to the deceitful Katrina.

“If that is how you really feel, sir, then so be it. But let me remind you that you have taken a strong hit to the skull, and perhaps you are delirious. Who can say if I am a mere figment of your imagination? A playful fantasy”, purred Katrina as she traced a fingertip around his chest.

Ichabod firmly grabbed her shoulders. “Lovely witch, I’ll prove that you exist and are what I accuse you of. I will find the mark of a witch, and the truth will be before our Lord.”*

With that, Ichabod ripped at her collar in a rage, tearing the top of her dress down past her now exposed breast. Towards the center, where her bosom rounded, he could see a light, red marking, ever so clearly.

“Proof, you devil,” whispered Ichabod, still staring at her exposed chest. He looked up to meet Katrina’s sultry eyes and slightly parted pink mouth, as a sigh escaped. Overcome by the undeniable attraction to the lady, Ichabod kissed the witch’s mark, following his lips up her décolletage and neck until he landed on her full lips.

“You darling creature,” he groaned into her neck, “I am helplessly enchanted and will always love you..” he stopped abruptly, feeling cold. He looked before him to see the vast darkness of the woods, with Katrina nowhere in sight. Ichabod Crane was completely alone.

(based on: The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving)

Hopefully I utilized the term "in lieu of" correctly,

Jordan