Hollowed: Return to Sleepy Hollow, the Complete Duology

by Candace Wondrak

  His finger began to pump in and out of me, and I turned my head to the side, needing to breathe in air that wasn’t hot and heavy. My skin felt warm, too warm, like I was going to implode in a sweaty mess. I closed my eyes, sighing as the breeze blew by.

  But then…everything stopped. Bones stopped touching me, stopping pushing against me, stopping showering my neck with attention. Everything just stopped, and I was left with an aching core and a hungry heart.

  My eyes were slow to open, my heartbeat running a marathon in my chest. I was going to ask Bones just what the hell he thought he was doing, stopping so soon, while we were in the middle of things—because lady blue balls was so a thing—but when I opened my eyes, I suddenly understood.

  I wasn’t in the real world anymore.

  Just like before, on the bridge and as I was leaving Crane’s house, I was somewhere else. The otherworld? A place of eternal light, yet no sun in the sky. A place whose sky was nothing but white and hazy, a milky, thick substance. A place where the colors of the grass and trees were off, too saturated and too bright. My vision was cloudy, but that didn’t stop me from seeing him.

  The Headless Horseman sat on his red-eyed steed over a hundred feet away, deeper in the cemetery. Though my vision wasn’t exactly twenty-twenty right now, I was able to see that the names on the stones were miraculously there, as if etched into the limestone only yesterday.

  I breathed hard, my body still worked up from what I’d been doing with Bones. What was my body doing right now? Was I slumped over, suddenly passed out with Bones’s finger inside of me?

  “No,” I muttered, my voice sounding like I was caught in the middle of sex. Airy, feminine—you know the kind. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself back to the real world, to the world of night, to the world where Bones would be, waiting for me.

  When I opened my eyes, I saw that I still remained in this strange place. My hands went to grip the tree behind me as I watched, mouth agape, the Headless Horseman heave himself off his horse. His dark frame started to head toward me.

  Head. Ha-ha. Punny.

  But now wasn’t the time for puns. Now was the time for oh-shit's and why-me's.

  The Headless Horseman wore all black, an old, battered uniform from a time long ago. Knee-high boots, a leather strap across his chest beneath his overcoat, whose bottoms were singed as if it’d been burned. His hands wore leather gloves, not a single ounce of his skin showing. Where his head would be, where his neck would be, it was just…nothing. Like an empty hole, like someone had filed away at his neck until nothing remained.

  I wanted to repeat to myself that this wasn’t real, but the longer I spent here, the more I believed it was. This was the most time I’d been caught here; usually by now I somehow managed to stumble back into the real world. Every second that ticked by felt like hours. I’d like to say the dread inching up my spine made me feel less hot and bothered, but…well.

  I was going to die horny, wasn’t I? A terrible way to go.

  His footsteps were heavy, loud as they crunched on the grass. The Headless Horseman stood less than two feet before me, and I was still attached to the tree as if it would save me. My cheeks flushed; I didn’t want to look at him, but what else was I going to do? I think I’d rather see my death coming.

  Slowly, I turned my eyes back to the legendary headless man. Holy fucking hell, he was large. A giant, even without his head. With his head, he had to be at least six and a half feet tall, and unlike most tall people, he wasn’t lanky. He was muscled, huge and intimidating in a way most guys just weren’t, no matter how badly they tried to be.

  I stared at his chest, wide and strong, watching as it rose and fell—like he was breathing. I was too freaked out about dying in the near future to wonder how a man without a head could breathe. Or walk, for that matter.

  The Headless Horseman was…a man, a spirit in his own league. I’d never seen anything like him before, never imagined something like him existed. Was it wrong to be attracted to a body with no head?

  My stupid horny body. I wanted to smack it, but considering I was about to die, I figured I’d let him do the smacking. Or the cleaving. Or the…whatever he was going to do to kill me.

  “I’m sorry I went on the bridge,” I whispered, biting back anything else I might’ve said when a non-corporeal, double-sided ax appeared in his hand. The ax was half as big as I was, yet he held onto it without a problem. The metal between the two blades ended in a point, and he lifted it against my chin. I rose my chin, keeping it above the point, not knowing what would happen to me if he touched me with it.

  Would it hurt? Would it burn? Would I become something like him, aimlessly wandering this place? I didn’t want to die tonight. I still had so much of my life to live…

  The Headless Horseman lowered the ax, but before I could exhale, he grabbed me by the face with his other hand, his leather glove squeezing on my cheeks, around my chin, forcing me to look up. If he had a head, I’d be staring squarely at it, but he didn’t, so I only gazed up, flinching, at empty air.

  He held me like that for a while, and since he had no head, I had no idea what he was doing. Could he see me? Was he studying me? Did he recognize me as Katrina Van Tassel? Questions like that would be so much easier to answer with facial cues.

  “I don’t want to die,” I whispered, gasping as his gloved fingers dug harder into my skin. Though he had no head, I could’ve sworn I saw his chest sway a bit, as if he was cocking his non-existent head at me.

  Just when I was about to freak out even more, the Headless Horseman released me, the same gloved hand moving to the side, all of his fingers but one curling inward. He was pointing.

  I didn’t know if I should turn my head away from him, for what if it was all a trick and he swung his ax the moment I looked away? But a nagging feeling in my gut told me to look, so I did. My eyes flicked to the side, following his pointed finger.

  We weren’t alone. On the edge of the cemetery, where the gravestones stopped and met the woods, another spirit stood. The same one I’d nearly run into on the bridge. The woman wearing a dress, cut up into shreds. The one with hair nearly as long as her body, tendrils that floated wherever they pleased, ignoring the laws of physics. The one with tiny knives for teeth and eyes so white and milky you couldn’t stare into them for long.

  Why was she here? Was she following me, like the Headless Horseman?

  “I don’t…” I didn’t know what the Headless Horseman was trying to say. Choose my death? Pick between the creepy woman and his ax? Neither seemed like a fun choice. I mean, if I had a say in it, I’d choose life. I was twenty-four years old. I still had a few good years left, I think.

  Again, his gloved hand gripped my face, forcing me to look back at him. Or, rather, his headless form. He lifted the ax in his other hand a few inches, calling my attention to it. The Headless Horseman was sluggish in releasing my face, the leather on his hand crinkling as he…pointed to himself?

  What was he trying to say? See, another reason having a head would make this whole thing so much easier.

  The milky white sky began to fade into a starry black night, and as I was thrown back into the real world, the last thing I saw was the Horseman trying to grab me. But it was too late; I was back in my own body and…I couldn’t see anything.

  I was on the ground, Bones shaking me, holding me to him. “Kat, are you in there?”

  My entire world was black. I reached a shaking hand out, touching his warm chest. “Bones,” I muttered. “I can’t…” It wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it was the first time it didn’t go away after a few seconds.

  I kept blinking, and slowly but surely my vision returned to me. It took at least a minute, I’d say. Wet tears rolled out of my eyes; I couldn’t stop them from falling. They were my body’s reaction to being trapped in the otherworld for so long. So terribly, terribly long.

  When my vision returned, I found Bones staring at me, his blonde eyebrows together. “Your e
yes,” he murmured. “They were all white.” He reached for me, wiping away my tears, and I saw that they weren’t normal tears. Not salty, clear water. They were tears of blood.

  I sat up by myself, furiously swiping at my eyes, not wanting Bones to see me like this. Like…whatever this was, whatever was happening to me. I was losing it. Sleepy Hollow was not good for me.

  “I should take you to the hospital,” Bones added, helping me stand. He still had a bit of an erection, but the hot and heavy moment had long passed, and I was too busy in the otherworld dealing with the Headless Horseman to watch as it waved goodbye. “You seized, or something—”

  “No,” I said, firm. As firm as I could be, considering everything that just happened. It wasn’t every day when you came face to face with the Headless Horseman’s ax and lived to tell the tale. I then said something, the one thing Bones didn’t want to hear: “Take me to Crane’s.”

  “Crane?” Bones was instantly upset; he didn’t bother to hide the fury on his face. “What the hell does that freak have to do with this?”

  I set a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. I probably looked a horrible sight, so batting my eyelashes at him wouldn’t work. “Please,” I whispered. “Just take me to Crane.”

  His mouth flattened into a thin line, and he said nothing else as he helped me back to the car. We drove to Crane’s house in silence, and I could tell he hated this. Not taking me to the hospital was bad enough, but taking me to Crane’s instead? It was his worst nightmare, especially after what we were doing at the cemetery.

  When we arrived at Crane’s, I struggled to get out of the car, still feeling weak. At least I wasn’t blind, like I’d been earlier, or crying bloody tears. I didn’t know why any of this was happening. My dad could hear the spirits, but I could cross the veil and see them? How did that work?

  Bones made his way around the car, wrapping an arm around me, helping me up, being my rock as we walked to the front door. At least he’d pulled up the driveway this time.

  “I can make it from here,” I said, not wanting to further upset him. We were having a nice, lust-filled time, full of kissing and orgasms, and then the fucking Headless Horseman had to show up and ruin it all. Not to mention that crazy spirit woman…

  “I’m coming in with you,” Bones stated, and that was that. He used the metal knocker to knock on the door, a lot louder than I would’ve been. The thumping echoed into the night, and I felt a chill sweep over me, too strong to be denied.

  Well, great. If Bones heard everything I was about to tell Crane, he’d think I was just as nuts as Crane. I wasn’t…was I?

  Fuck. Maybe I was. Maybe I was just as batshit crazy as the worst of them.

  Chapter Eight

  It took Crane an unreasonably long time to come to the door, and that was because he was sleeping, I realized as I studied him in his robe and slippers. Yes, the man wore a robe and slippers like…hell. I didn’t even know anyone who wore those things these days. Plus, my head kind of hurt. Sarcastic quips were not going to come easily to me right now.

  I pushed inside, right past Crane before he could even register who was at the door. The moment I walked in, my feet stumbled, and both Crane and Bones grabbed me. One on each side. They both tossed an annoyed look at each other as they helped me to the couch in the sitting room.

  Crane blinked behind his glasses, glancing between me and Bones. “What…what happened?” He sat beside me, which totally infuriated Bones, who stood scowling, crossing his arms, his muscles bulging. “Blood.” Crane was staring at my eyes.

  Crap. I thought I’d gotten it all up, but apparently not.

  “We were in the old cemetery,” Bones answered for me. “And she just passed out.”

  Crane shot a knowing look at Bones, oddly posturing for a man wearing slippers and a robe. “And what were you two doing in the cemetery?”

  “That’s none of your business,” Bones muttered, blue eyes glaring. If he could’ve, I think he would’ve thrown it down with Crane right here and now. Which was ridiculous. All of this alpha male shit was stupid. It wasn’t what I came here for.

  I wasn’t the original Katrina Van Tassel. I wasn’t caught in a love triangle.

  It was my turn to speak, and I said, “I saw him again.” I didn’t know why, but saying the words Headless Horseman out loud in front of Bones scared me. I didn’t want him to think I was just as crazy as my dad and Crane—both of whom turned out to be not so crazy after all.

  Bones asked “Saw who?” the same moment Crane’s eyes fell to my lap and said “Ah, I see. He is definitely after you, then.”

  “Who?” Bones questioned, glancing between us. “Who are you two talking about? If someone’s after Kat—”

  “Brom,” Crane spoke dryly. “I fear you wouldn’t believe us if we told you.” The look Bones gave him right then was all he needed to be forced to add, “Exactly. Now, thank you for bringing Kat to me, but you are no longer needed here.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Bones said, this time to me. “This is a ghost thing? I told you to stay away from Crane, to burn your dad’s stuff. Don’t tell me Crane has you thinking—”

  I hated the way he spoke to me, like I was a child, too stupid to know that what I was doing was wrong. Here’s the thing, though—it wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t wrong. The person here who didn’t know the whole truth of it was Bones, not me, not Crane. “Talking to Crane hasn’t affected my thinking at all. You have no idea what I saw, Bones. What I saw was real—and I saw the Headless fucking Horseman.” It was impossible for me to not throw a swearword in there. Those things came so easily to me.

  “I should’ve taken you to the hospital.” Bones shook his head, looking a strange mixture of sad and angry. Angry with Crane, disappointed in me. He threw his hands up when I started telling him that the hospital couldn’t have helped me, interrupting me to say, “I—I need to go. If you change your mind and want a ride to the hospital, call me.” He said nothing else as he stormed out, slamming the front door of the house.

  I didn’t like how upset he was, didn’t appreciate the so-called righteous fury Bones had. I mean, yes, I would’ve thought the same thing a week ago, but now? Now I knew things really were different here.

  “Why did he get so mad?” I whispered once the house had quieted, once it was just Crane and I. “He was the one who told me things happened in Sleepy Hollow…” When he came to my house after the break-in, he’d acted as if nothing was wrong.

  “Believing in the unexplained is a lot different than believing in spirits.” Crane adjusted his glasses, his left knee touching my right. “Most people here are superstitious, but if you put them at gunpoint and ask them if they would give their life to say the Headless Horseman is real, it’s a different story.”

  I understood what he was saying, where he was coming from. I hated that I’d made Bones upset, but I couldn’t change what happened, what I saw.

  “So, tell me what happened,” Crane said. “Leave nothing out.”

  I told him. I told him about the Headless Horseman, how he’d grabbed me, forced me to look at him. I told him about how he pointed to the other woman at the forest’s edge, and then how he’d pointed to himself. My nerves were still fried, and when I thought back to it, I could hardly breathe.

  “It almost sounds like he was warning you,” Crane said. “This woman, the other spirit, can you describe her more for me?”

  I explained the white hair, how it defied gravity, looked almost like a spider web, and all the other aspects about her that I knew. “It wasn’t the first time I saw her,” I spoke softly. “When I crossed the bridge, she was there, too.”

  Crane’s back straightened. “You didn’t tell me this before.”

  “I didn’t think it was important.”

  “The bridge is the Headless Horseman’s territory. For her to be there…it only means one thing.” Crane looked pale, or maybe it was just because he wore a white robe, which basically matched his skin color
. “She’s following you, trailing you.”

  I let his words sink in, staring at him like he was crazy. “Are you saying that woman is haunting me?”

  Crane opened his mouth, about to refute my haunting statement, but he quickly shut it, pensive. “I would say tracking you, watching you, to see if you’re a good fit.” When I only stared at him, he went on, “I’m sure the spirits feel you. I’m sure you’re a shining beacon in the haze that is the otherworld. You draw them in.”

  Oh, that’s all? Just wonderful.

  “It would be easier, I assume, to possess you while your soul is locked in the otherworld than it would be to cross the veil itself, even though it is weakening.” Crane ran a hand through his brown hair; since I’d caught him at a bad time, it was not combed how it usually was. Its wavy lengths were messy, kind of cute. “I’ll have to do some research, try to figure out who she is before she shows herself to you again.”

  “And there’s no way to kill a spirit?” I asked, blinking, suddenly feeling so very tired. I could lean back and fall asleep on this couch, right here, right now.

  Crane pursed his lips. “None that I’m aware of. If a human is possessed, the only way to get the spirit out of the human is to kill the human, and even then…the spirit doesn’t die. It simply returns to the otherworld. But once it knows how to cross…”

  “It’s easier for it to come back to earth,” I said, to which he nodded.

  “That will be a problem to deal with tomorrow,” Crane said, reaching toward my face, fingertips lightly brushing against my cheek. “Let me get something to clean you up with.” He stood, heading into the kitchen. When he returned, he carried a small bowl, along with a washcloth.

  I watched as he sat beside me, dabbing the tip of the towel in the bowl. I turned my body to face his, inhaling slowly, willing myself to stay up, to not fall over from exhaustion. Not yet, anyway.