Headless
Page 9
Now here they were, after the war had ended, after so many had died, and they're still cleaning up the mess. Jimmy wasn't surprised. He had a gun put in his hand at fourteen, and was fighting ever since. Three years? Four? How old was he now? Time was a different thing on the battle field. No crops to note the time; no social events; no Sunday Church. Today was 'Today', and that was about all most kept track of. He shook his head back to the matter at hand.
Everyone knew who the Hessian was by name. Klaus Von Strucker. Rumor had it he was actually a rich man back home. He didn't have to go to war; nor did he have to fight. But he enjoyed it. The old timers said he made a deal with the devil for immortality, if he killed enough people. That's why he butchered without abandon. Soldiers, women, children, elders – it made no difference to him. So they simply started referring to him as The Devil.
The forest went silent. This eerie calm brought Jimmy back to reality, and he found his commander laying on his side, facing the direction that Jimmy had run from. The commander's gun was pointed down the path, towards the small bridge crossing the river.
“What happens if he gets to the town?” Jimmy whispers over his commander's shoulder.
“That's not going to happen.”
“Yeah, but what if it --”
“We can't let that happen, you understand? This monster has to go. He has to be dealt with, now.”
Their arguing is interrupted by the sound of heavy hooves on wood. The loud clopping sound, came in time with soft metal clinging from both the horse's reigns, and the rider's adornments.
Jimmy laid back against the ground, closing his eye's tightly. They were hidden on a bit of a downward slope from the path, and the horse hooves grew louder, and louder. His commander stared at him, making sure the boy wasn't going to give away their position, and when the sound of the hooves finally stopped, he looked up over the ledge. Surely enough, there stood a massive black stallion, grazing on a tuft of grass just off the edge of the pathway. However, there was no rider atop it.
“What the hell?” The commander asked in confusion. He scanned around them, not seeing anyone, before finally standing up. “Stay here.”
Jimmy nodded. The commander no more than turned around, and a sword plunged through his neck, causing him to drop his gun there on the path. The surprisingly handsome German mercenary grinned back at him deviously. Pearly white teeth set against soft red lips. He had pale skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes that were a bit sunken, giving him a foreboding brow line. The only imperfection in an otherwise modelesque appearance.
The Hessian watched as blood poured from the commander's neck wound, and the grizzled man reached up, gripping at the blade. The Hessian turned the blade in his throat, opening the hole wide, and ripped it from his flesh, sending the old man stumbling back. He looked down at Jimmy, who laid there clinching his eyes tight. Jimmy could hear the metal chain rattle as the Hessian stepped towards him, knowing that when the chain stopped, his time on earth probably would as well.
After a moment of no sound, Jimmy opened his eyes, finding the Hessian still staring down at him. The massive mercenary tilts his head to the side, examining the young man. Jimmy's mouth hangs agape, as he shakes his head 'no', the Hessian raising his axe over his shoulder. A gunshot rings out, and the bullet ricochets off the mercenary's shoulder, as he turns to his attacker. A middle-aged infantryman about thirty feet down the path.
The Hessian closes the gap in several long strides, as the soldier attempts to reload his gun, and he removes the top of the man's skull with his axe, sending it flying in to the woods. The man's brains slip out of his cranial cavity, as his body hits the ground, and Jimmy covers his mouth, gagging.
“He's here!” Someone yells further down.
Gunshots fill the air, along with smoke, as multiple soldiers step out of the trees, firing on the Hessian. He raises his axe, using the blade to shield his face. The bullets ricochet off him, leaving him undamaged. As the echo of the gunshots fade away, he lowers his axe, looking at the men as they start reloading their guns.
The massive man moves with such speed, it's hard to believe he's ever been human. With each swing of his axe, or sword, a head goes flying. The American soldiers are being cut down left and right, with not so much as another shot fired. Jimmy watches this from his original place. The final soldier in the row raises his gun to block the Hessian's attack, but the force of the axe shatters the butt of the gun, and sticks the blade in his skull, splitting all the way down to his chin.
Klaus pulls the axe from the soldier's head, and spins around, examining his work. A gunshot goes off behind him, and he turns looking to see where the shot came from. He finds Jimmy standing there with his gun raised, hands trembling. The Hessian follows the smoking gun to find his horse lying on the ground, dead. A bullet wound in its skull.
The first bit of any emotion crosses the German's face as his eye twitches. He growls as blood drips from his face, and he runs towards the young soldier. So the Devil did have a heart? Jimmy had always wondered from the stories he heard. It just took making him angry to find out what he had affection for. He watched as the Hessian drew his axe back, said a short prayer to his maker, and the last thing he heard was the roar the massive man let out, as he swung the axe, cutting through the boy with one swing at the waist.
Jimmy's upper body hit the ground first, landing on his back, as his muscles convulsed from the shock. His legs buckled at the knees a moment later, and blood began to pool into the dirt. The Hessian turned his attention immediately to the horse, kneeling down to the animal's dead body, as he rested a hand on the horse’s mane. Hessian reached to his neck, pulling out a rosary, and whispering a prayer in German, before crossing himself.
He looked up, finding a young girl staring at him on the path from the direction he was originally riding in. She clutched a pale of water close to her chest. The monstrous man rises to his feet, and heads in her direction slowly. She stands there, eyes full of fear, watching him as he approaches.
Each of his heavy steps leaves an imprint in the dirt, as he stares down the small blonde girl. She trembles, causing drops of the water to slosh out of the bucket. He growls, towering over her, as he comes to a stop in front of her. He raises his arm holding the axe, and wipes the blood from his sword off on his sleeve. He then sheaths the blade.
The mercenary does the same for the axe blade on his other arm, before lowering the axe, never taking his eyes off the girl. After this he turns his attention fully to her, clicking his teeth together, thinking. With a quick snap, he snatches the bucket away from her. He checks the bucket, seeing water in it, and grunts motioning for the girl to run off.
As she does so, he tilts the bucket back, taking heavy gulps as the water rushes down over his face, and garments. He raises the bucket over his head, and lets the remaining water wash over his hair and face, rinsing some of the blood away. It almost looks as if he's crying blood.
He never heard the arrow, until the whistle reached him, and stuck into his leg. He groans, dropping the bucket and reaches down breaking the arrow off in his leg immediately. He looks up as another one plunges in his arm, then another, and another. Each of them attached to a thick rope. He turns, looking for his attackers, and tangles himself up further. The militiamen begin stepping out of the trees, circling him, but keeping enough distance to hold the ropes taught.
The Hessian's strength is phenomenal as it takes nearly a dozen men and their weapons to hold him in place. Klaus roars out in anger, extending his arms for the sky as his face burns red and his eyes turn bloodshot. He looks back down, just as an old man approaches with the little girl clung tightly to his back leg. The old man raises another cross bow and fires, the arrow sticking through the Hessian's eye. The monstrous man screams out in pain, before looking back at the old man, growling, as blood pours down his face from his eye socket.
Everything fades to black as a young militia member, almost the Hessian's size, hammers him in the back of the head
with a large piece of lumber. The Hessian hangs there from the ropes, and the old man that had just walked up raises his arm, and twirls it in the air.
“Alright, tie him up and get him back to the town square!”
The Hessian awoke with something choking him tightly. He stretched his jaw, then his neck, finding something scratching at it. Klaus looks up, finding a rope tied around his neck, and looks down to find a platform with a drop door underneath him. He pulls his arms behind his back, finding that his wrists had been tied, as well as his ankles.
The town square is full of people, watching him as he stands there. The arrow had been broken off in his eye, and blood had started to pool underneath him from the arrow wounds. The old man that had fired the arrow into his eye steps onto the platform, wearing clerical clothing, as he clutches a bible to his chest.
“You think you do God's work?” the Hessian hissed at the old man, as he crossed the Hessian, and kissed the Bible in his hands before opening it. Klaus turns his eyes out to the crowd, and the insane look on his face, makes them all step back. “I am the wrathful hand of God. You know nothing of God! Your impediment of my duties will bring hell to all of you, I swear it! To everyone on this land, for all time! If you kill me now, I will ride again! Your land, your homes, your descendents will be mine!”
The old man pauses at this inferred blasphemy, and closes the Bible, skipping any prayers the Hessian may have otherwise received. The old man drags his hand across his throat, and one of the militiamen standing below pulls the lever, dropping the Hessian through the door.
Klaus gags as he drops several feet. The rope pulls tight around his thick neck, as he sways, staring up at the hole above him. The old man steps to the edge of the hole looking down at him. The Hessian grits his teeth, growling up at the man, as he feels the rope cut into his neck. Blood runs down his chest and back, as it digs deeper and deeper. Mothers cover their children’s eyes as the rope digs into his carotid artery.
This still doesn't stop the Hessian who twists at the neck attempting to escape. And right up until his body weight is too much for the flesh to hold, and his body falls off part way down his spine and lands on the ground with a heavy thud. His head hangs there by the rope, partial spine hanging from it, and his face twitches.
A grave stone had been set next to a large hole, and several young strong men lift the Hessian's body up and drop it into the hole. The old man steps up behind them, throwing in the Hessian's cloth-wrapped head. The little girl brings him the axe, and the old man throws it in the hole, as well.
“Cover him up and send word to General Washington. The Devil is dead. Here he rests, and here he stays. And until the day he manages to walk again amongst the living, and find a new head, may his spirit never rest in peace.” The old man looks around at the people who have joined him there.
They all nod in agreement, some laughing at what they assumed was a mocking tone to his curse on the Horseman, and walk away.
CHAPTER XV
“Little did they know that the Devil didn't die that day. They just gave birth to a demon. A demon that some say comes back every year, to hold his promise to the townsfolk true. That this place was cursed,” Harold whispers, staring into the fire.
There is an awkward silence amongst the group.
When he grins, Caleb, Dougie and Jackie laugh. Then the others join in.
“You're an idiot, man,” Dougie speaks up first, exhaling smoke from a cigarette.
“That stuff isn't true though, is it? Like him being here and stuff?” Tina hugs herself, looking up from the fire.
“Depends who you ask, I guess. Nobody's ever found his body, but the only description of the grave is a marked grave under an old tree,” Harold shrugs.
“There are a lot of old trees here,” Jackie notes.
“So does anyone know why the people moved?” Caleb asks, tossing his cigarette in the fire.
“Little of this, little of that. Some died from disease; some disappeared; fire; crops dried up. One day the rest of the people that were still here up and moved on,” Harold answers. “Or maybe it was a demon Horseman risen from the grave that ran them off. Who knows?”
He grins, but it's clear that some of the group is unsettled.
“I don't like this place, I want to leave,” Tina whispers.
The others laugh at her. Even Sam, who twirls the head of the sledgehammer in the dirt, watching it slowly dig deeper into the ground. Danny jumps to his feet walking around the fire, looking out into the woods as the sun dips low.
“Any German assassins out there!? Hello! Hey, the girls are scared of the boogeyman! Come on out, faggot!” Danny screams, spinning around the fire.
“Hey!” Sam hisses.
Danny grins, holding a hand up to his mouth. “Oops, I mean German demon assassin that lovingly likes to suck cock! Are you out there?”
“Stop being an idiot,” Caleb speaks up, twisting the cap off his beer bottle. Danny goes for the cooler, and Caleb smacks his hand away, pointing to Danny's seat. “You don't need anymore, man. Not right now, at least.”
“Aw, thanks mommy!” Danny snaps, walking back to his stump, sitting down.
“Every time you get too fucked up, you pass out and break something. I'm not pulling your ass out of the fire pit. You can calm down for a half hour or so.”
“Whatever, man.” Danny scoffs, getting up from his stump and starts walking off. “I'm going to go look around. Anyone want to come?”
“You sure that's a good idea?” Kat speaks up.
“What? I ain't scared of no ghosts!”
“Dude, sit down,” Caleb growls.
“Fuck. Off,” Danny retorts, holding up a middle finger.
After a few moments of nobody wanting to join, he shrugs, walking off.
“Danny!” Katerina yells after him.
Amir rests a hand on her shoulder. “Let him go. He just needs to cool off a bit. I think Caleb's right.”
“Anyone want to play a drinking game? A shot every minute that goes by before Danny comes running back, squealing like a pig?” Jackie inquires, raising the bottle in her hand.
“I'll take that bet,” Dougie speaks up.
“Aren't you supposed to be driving, at some point?” Tina inquires.
“The van isn't going anywhere tonight. The fuck else am I going to do sitting around here with a bunch of frightened white folk?”
Everyone laughs, as Dougie pulls a bottle of scotch from the bag.
“Maybe one of us should go after him? There are wild animals out here,” Amir whispers, looking over his shoulder at Kat. She lowers her eyes to the ground, nodding, but doesn't move. “You want me to go get him?”
“No. Caleb or Doug will in a bit, I'm sure. Danny's a big boy, he can fend for himself.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, the less time the kid is around here, the better,” Kat nods.
“Why don't you like him?” Amir turns to her, as the others joke and talk amongst themselves.
“He's wanted to get in my pants since high school. It's not the sort of endearing behavior I find attractive in a man.”
“Some women find determination sexy,” Amir chides.
“True. And I do, too. But not when there are weekly dick pics included, with texts like 'Hey girl, drunk. Wanna fuck?' – it's not titillating.”
“Fair enough,” Amir laughs. “So what sort of uh, what sort of guy do you, I mean are you, I mean...”
“I like you,” she cuts off his awkward line of questioning, giving him a gentle smile. “That's why I asked you to come tonight. I like you, Amir.”
“Oh. Good!” His face lights up, and the burning sensation in his cheeks subsides.
The bonfire was just a speck of warm light in the distance at this point, as Danny trekked a path away from the group. He had picked up a random leaf on his walk, and was presently picking it apart piece by piece, throwing the scraps to the ground, as he whittled the foliage down to its stem slowly.
He kicks a rock and it bounces loudly off the wood of the Church wall. A clap of thunder immediately follows, and Danny jumps, looking up at the sky. He laughs, and continues stumbling his way into the woods, on the path leading away from the dilapidated town. He never notices the giant black figure that moves away from the wall of the Church to follow him into the woods.
“And this fucking Mexican that Kat's wasting her time with!” ...Danny mumbles out, screaming into the trees. He pauses for a moment, catching his breath, as the alcohol sets in more and more, before he starts laughing. “He's not Mexican; he's Arab. Meh, same difference, right? Right!” The college kid carries on, stumbling down the dark path into the woods. “Can't see shit out here...”
He stops, taking his cell phone out, and turns the flashlight on it, on. He aims it around into the trees, then down the path.
“That's much better,” he notes, continuing to stumble along his way.
Danny stops, reaching down and picking up a branch along the path, swiping it back and forth, laughing at the faint whistling sound it makes, as he can barely walk in a straight line at this point.
“I shall avenge you, my love! Ki-ya!” Danny yells out, swinging the branch around.
In his mind, a great ninja warrior twirls his blade with precision, and deft control. In reality, a drunk spins a stick around, mostly hitting himself with it as he fights invisible forces in front of him along the path. He attempts to spin it in the air, but it gets away from him, and cracks against wood as it flies off into the trees, and out of his line of sight.
“Damn it!”
Danny spins in circles, looking for something else to play with, and finds a good size rock. He picks it up, and begins tossing it up and down, as he starts walking again. The figure of the Horseman watches from just off the edge of the path, set back in the trees, as Danny fumbles along, heading deeper into the trees.