Page 6 of Headless Over You
FOUR
Iris
Without a second thought,I dash from my room in nothing but my tank top and sleep shorts. I don’t stop for pleasantries or to give an explanation at the desk. Flashlight in hand, I run through the night along the sidewalk to the path I discovered earlier. There’s no sign of the Horseman this way, but that doesn’t stop me. Wherever he’s lurking, he’s sure to come back if someone comes during his witching hour.
I move past overgrown bushes and onto the path. The twigs, rocks, and leaves poke at my feet, and I regret not slipping on my shoes at the very least. The scent of fresh dirt fills my nostrils as the cold finally starts to creep in.
“Hello?” I call out to nothing. I walk to the bridge and trepidation settles in.This is stupid,I tell myself as I sweep my flashlight back and forth. There’s a rustling of leaves and I turn. “Who’s there?” Maybewhat’sthere is the appropriate question to ask.
I walk backward onto the bridge, and the wood groans beneath me. But it also settles behind me. I don’t dare turn around. My bravado is gone and fear takes over. This isincredibly stupid and impulsive, and I’m not one to take risks like this, but the need to know is too strong.
Braving what I might face, I turn. Nothing. I walk across the bridge slowly.
“Hello, is someone there?” As I near the halfway point, something rustles. A man jumps out from around the corner and chases me down.
“Leave and don’t return,” he yells at me. His face is covered, and I fight my way out of his grip, kicking and screaming. I claw at anything I can get to on his person. If his intent is to kill me, I’ll take his DNA with me at the very least.
“Help! Help! Let me go!” I push and push. He has me on the rail’s edge. The wind picks up.
“You’re meddling in shit you don’t understand,” he barks at me. I swing my flashlight back, trying to hit him and knock him off me, or at the very least create an escape as he’s stunned, but that doesn’t work. He still has me and is forcing me over the edge.
“Let me go!” I scream as he nearly throws me over the bridge. “Help!” I scream at the top of my lungs. Anyone, anything, I’m desperate at this point. The wind calms. The birds go quiet. Everything stops. The silence is as palpable as the dread befalling us. The man freezes and looks around.
Hooves sound in the distance, but even hearing that, my captor is hesitant to release me.
The Horseman appears at the end of the bridge as he unsheathes his sword. It’s broad, long, and reflects the moonlight on its sharp edge.
The Horseman charges, the eyes and mouth of his jack-o'-lantern face glowing brighter as he heads straight for us. The man lets me go and dashes for the pathway. I tumble down onto the bridge flooring and scramble to my knees to watch. That doesn’t stop the Horseman as he hunts him down and runs theblade of his sword right through him. Screams and gurgles fill the air and the man falls to the ground, unmoving.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, my flashlight on his mutilated body. Blood gushes from the wound and he tries to stand, but he can’t gather the strength to pull himself up. There’s a groaning and gurgling noise coming from his bloody mouth, and I’m frozen as I watch.
The Horseman’s posture is poised and calm as he turns the horse around and stalks toward me. I swallow thickly but I don’t move. He sheathes his blade and pulls out a dagger.
He was my savior, but now it looks like I’ll meet my end. His horse trots toward me, and I kneel there, waiting. The cold kiss of the blade is all I feel before the sound of tearing fabric hits my ears. Then there’s cold. I look down. He’s cut the strap of my tank top, exposing my chest a little more. I want to shout something, anything, but I can’t. I just watch those glowing holes carved into the pumpkin. He says nothing, and I doubt that he can. I reach out and stroke the horse. He feels solid beneath my touch. My hand glides farther until I brush the Horseman’s knee. It, too, is solid. Not a ghost.
His horse neighs and rears back before exploding down the bridge. I step out into the middle in their aftermath.
“Thank you!” I shout after him.
Confused and conflicted, I turn and run. I pass the gutted man whose entrails discolor the dirt path and keep going until I reach the inn and ultimately my room.
All the tales portrayed him as a ruthless killer, and I guess that’s true. But . . .
He rescued me tonight. I was nearly thrown off that bridge, and he killed my attacker instead. I walk over to my desk and take out a notebook, journaling everything that happened. The bells chime ten times, and I figure that nine o’clock is the witching hour for the Headless Horseman.
Satisfied with the entry, I look out the window and back to my torn shirt. I want to see him again. Regardless of how that will look or what will happen, his ferocity and magnetism are too strong to resist.
I hurry down the street,rushing past the morning pedestrians, hoping that Kurt is a creature of habit before his classes. Sure enough, there in the café, he’s in line ordering coffee. I rush inside and up to the counter.
“Kurt,” I breathe out, struggling after the impromptu run. “I need to speak to you outside please.”
“Iris, what’s wrong?”
I tug on his hand and lead him out. When no one is around, I tell him about the night before, leaving out how the Horseman nearly undressed me. His eyes are horrified as the tale plays out piece by piece. I’m nearly foaming at the mouth with excitement as I relieve those perilous moments.
“You did what? Are you insane?” he asks, pulling me closer and dropping his voice. “You got a man killed!” I tug my arm out of his grasp.
“No, a man attacked me for no reason!”
