Some Halloween Fun for Jkkitty
Title: Beware, Beware, He Rides Alone
Genre: Man from UNCLE
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1709
Prompt:
jkkitty, I hope you enjoy your bit of Halloween fun! My thanks to you for participating and to Sparky955 for her beta!
The hardest part is the loneliness. I mean, I wasn’t a social butterfly beforehand, but when you don’t have a head, people seem reluctant to talk with you. I try to be friendly, but when folks see me coming their way, they usually scream and run. Such is the life of a headless horseman. Talk about dealing with a tough rep.
I’m not exactly sure what I did to deserve my fate. Never made a deal with the devil or tried to swindle my fellow man. Even my beheading was an accident. If anyone thought that storing a scythe in a hayloft was a good idea, trust me when I say it was.
I woke up, minus my head, who knows where that ended up, mounted on my favorite horse who was also dead. For a long time, that infuriated me and we rode this path in Sleepy Hollow with a vengeance, terrifying the locals.
As the centuries went by, I got less and less mad and more tired. I just wanted to get on with it. Never seemed to have any luck, though. Came close with that Ichabod character, but no cigar.
So, I waited. Sleepy Hollow got a little commercialized and I had to relocate a bit, but still no luck. Now people drove in cars or trucks. Clive is good, but he’s still no match for a vehicle. One thing about being dead, though, it teaches you patience.
I was hanging out in the gully by the knoll when they showed up. Some days, it’s star-crossed lovers or someone on the lam, but I could feel that these two were different. First, they were on foot and second, then weren’t dressed for the cold October night. Centuries of people watching teaches you how to read people and don’t give me any guff about “How can you watch people when you don’t have a head?” Trust me, I’ve heard all the jokes. I just can, okay, and also hear and make noise, probably even talk if I had to.
Anyhow, it was getting around ten or so and I’m giving Clive a rubdown. He’s such a good horse and never gives, me any trouble. He would run his heart out every night if I asked, being dead, too, it wouldn’t be too much to ask. But I don’t. Say what you will, I love this old horse.
“This way, Napoleon.” Clive’s head swiveled in the direction of the voice and I followed his red-eyed stare. “We have to keep moving.”
“I… I can’t, Illya. You need to leave me and get some help.”
“I won’t leave you. You’ll freeze to death out here.”
“We’ll both freeze if you don’t and then Murphy will find us. You’re our only hope right now.” The guy’s head and eyes were wrapped with a stained shirt. “Tuck me in some place safe and go.”
He was hurt, but not grievously so. The other fellow was shirtless and I could see him shivering in cold. If he didn’t get inside and soon, the Reaper would be collecting him by the morning.
Even with that said, he found a small depression and settled his friend, for I could tell that’s what they were, into it. He dragged handfuls of leaves over him, in effect, burying him. All that remained was a small spot for his nose and mouth.
“Okay, you sit tight and I’ll be back. I swear I’ll be back, Napoleon.”
“I know. Now, go!”
Clive tossed his head, indicating that he was willing to go in pursuit of the other man, but I patted his neck, soothing him. There was something about these two. I don’t know what it was, but inside I knew they weren’t for me. If I was going to chop a top, I wanted the perfect one. Who knew what sort of damage there was under that bandage and I was blond once a long time ago with long flowing locks the women couldn’t resist. I’d also come to the realization that maybe that incident with scythe hadn’t been an accident. That was retribution for my dalliance with someone’s wife. I wasn’t keen to have that error repeated, so no long blond hair for me.
For as long time, we stood there, watching the spot where the man hid. Didn’t know why, but what else did I have to do?
“I know you are there.” I realized that Napoleon was talking to me. Of course, he couldn’t see, but he could still hear. “Who are you?”
“Yes,” I managed somehow. It had been years since I spoke. Usually I just laughed manically, it was my only talent. “Friend.”
“There are evil men looking for me. Please, friend, don’t give me up.”
It had been a long time since anyone had even paused to speak with me. I mean, it’s the package, you know, red-eyed horse, flaming pumpkin in one hand and a lethal sword in the other. People usually didn’t hang around for small talk.
“What happened?” I dismounted and calmed Clive. He was nervous, not being used to this, either.
“THRUSH happened.” Napoleon shifted restlessly. “They are going to devastate this countryside, kill the people, clear cut the forest and placer mine the hillsides. My friend and I were trying to stop them. They… took exception to us.”
I could smell the blood now. He was more injured than I realized. In the distance, I could see lights coming our way. That was odd, the Reaper didn’t need a light and I knew his friend… Illya? Yes, Illya didn’t have one.
“Be quiet,” I ordered and repositioned Clive in front of him. Napoleon fell silent and I moved closed to make sure nothing showed through.
The lights drew closer and the roar of motorcycles ripped through the regular night sounds.
I motioned to my best friend and Clive approached, standing ready until I mounted. For some reason, I had a feeling I was about to take the ride of a lifetime, not just mine, but one for everything else that lived and breathed in these woods. Hey, I may be a headless demon, but that didn’t mean I was without a heart. I loved these woods.
The motorcycles approached, how I miss horses, and the lights flashed on me.
“There he is,” shouted someone and I knew it was my cue. Clive reared and I started laughing, while swinging my sword.
“What the hell!” The guy in the front yelled and I headed in his direction. There was the sound of a gun and something impacted my chest. It knocked me from the saddle and I fell to the ground. “Got him. Let’s take him back and see if he is more willing to talk now.”
I stood up and started walking slowly towards them. The pumpkin was shattered, nothing I could do about that, but that just meant I had a hand free for a change. I swung my sword with purpose.
“He’s still alive. Shoot him again.”
Now that I was expecting it, the bullet were like grasshoppers against my legs. They did me no harm as they passed through me. I laughed again, loudly and as crazed as I could.
At this point, the lead motorcycle took off, bouncing along the rutted road. It was a bad choice.
Silly, silly people, I thought and raised my hand. Clive was there in a heartbeat. I was in hot pursuit. The motorcyclist never even felt my blade as it separated his head from his body. It bounced away, down into the stream. I made note of where it landed, just in case.
There had been two motorcycles and that’s when I realized one had doubled back, a classic case of divide and conquer.
“Hurry, Clive,” I whispered and my steed took flight. The motorcycle was stopped just before the pile of leaves that held my companion, for that’s how I thought of him now.
The man was tall and he had flame red hair that seemed to spring wildly from his head. In a moment, I could feel his hatred, his sheer evilness. He was starting at the pile of leaves and speaking. “I know you’re here, Solo. Why don’t you come out and we’ll talk about it, man to man.”
“You’re not a man, Murphy, you’re a monster.” Napoleon stood, shakily. More bravado in his voice than anything else.
“You’d know. Why don’t we go back to my place? I’ve got some nice hot pokers all ready for you.
“I won’t talk.”
“Not the issue. I just want to hear you scream.”
My friend didn’t look up for it, so I did, instead. It got an immediately response.
“Who are you?”
“No one,” I rasped. “And everyone. My land. My rules.”
He laughed. The man called Murphy laughed and right there and then, I knew. He was… Perfect!
“You can’t scare me.” Murphy pointed the gun at Clive and pulled the trigger. Poor Clive. He crumbled and I, well, I sort of lost it. It was a shame, too because I always wanted to be ginger.
Clive was getting to his feet as I was taking my last few swipes of the pile of hamburger. He snorted and nudged me, his touch immediately calming my soul. Then I realized I’d given it a little too much English. That head was gone.
The Reaper was standing there, grinning, like he has a choice. He dragged what was left of Murphy’s soul away, kicking and screaming. It knew where it was going.
“Hello? Are you okay?”
I looked back at Napoleon. “Yes.”
I helped him reassume his position in the leaves. Dawn would be here soon and if I wanted that other head, it was now or never. I mounted and started to ride off.
“Thank you. I don’t know who you are, but thank you.”
“Friend. My name is Friend.”
“Thank you, Friend.”
I’d love to have stuck around, but the night was waning and it was time for both of us to get some rest. Tomorrow, I would have a new head and a new life. Maybe I’d even look Napoleon up someday. I have a feeling we’d have some interesting stories to share.
Genre: Man from UNCLE
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1709
Prompt:
jkkitty, I hope you enjoy your bit of Halloween fun! My thanks to you for participating and to Sparky955 for her beta!
The hardest part is the loneliness. I mean, I wasn’t a social butterfly beforehand, but when you don’t have a head, people seem reluctant to talk with you. I try to be friendly, but when folks see me coming their way, they usually scream and run. Such is the life of a headless horseman. Talk about dealing with a tough rep.
I’m not exactly sure what I did to deserve my fate. Never made a deal with the devil or tried to swindle my fellow man. Even my beheading was an accident. If anyone thought that storing a scythe in a hayloft was a good idea, trust me when I say it was.
I woke up, minus my head, who knows where that ended up, mounted on my favorite horse who was also dead. For a long time, that infuriated me and we rode this path in Sleepy Hollow with a vengeance, terrifying the locals.
As the centuries went by, I got less and less mad and more tired. I just wanted to get on with it. Never seemed to have any luck, though. Came close with that Ichabod character, but no cigar.
So, I waited. Sleepy Hollow got a little commercialized and I had to relocate a bit, but still no luck. Now people drove in cars or trucks. Clive is good, but he’s still no match for a vehicle. One thing about being dead, though, it teaches you patience.
I was hanging out in the gully by the knoll when they showed up. Some days, it’s star-crossed lovers or someone on the lam, but I could feel that these two were different. First, they were on foot and second, then weren’t dressed for the cold October night. Centuries of people watching teaches you how to read people and don’t give me any guff about “How can you watch people when you don’t have a head?” Trust me, I’ve heard all the jokes. I just can, okay, and also hear and make noise, probably even talk if I had to.
Anyhow, it was getting around ten or so and I’m giving Clive a rubdown. He’s such a good horse and never gives, me any trouble. He would run his heart out every night if I asked, being dead, too, it wouldn’t be too much to ask. But I don’t. Say what you will, I love this old horse.
“This way, Napoleon.” Clive’s head swiveled in the direction of the voice and I followed his red-eyed stare. “We have to keep moving.”
“I… I can’t, Illya. You need to leave me and get some help.”
“I won’t leave you. You’ll freeze to death out here.”
“We’ll both freeze if you don’t and then Murphy will find us. You’re our only hope right now.” The guy’s head and eyes were wrapped with a stained shirt. “Tuck me in some place safe and go.”
He was hurt, but not grievously so. The other fellow was shirtless and I could see him shivering in cold. If he didn’t get inside and soon, the Reaper would be collecting him by the morning.
Even with that said, he found a small depression and settled his friend, for I could tell that’s what they were, into it. He dragged handfuls of leaves over him, in effect, burying him. All that remained was a small spot for his nose and mouth.
“Okay, you sit tight and I’ll be back. I swear I’ll be back, Napoleon.”
“I know. Now, go!”
Clive tossed his head, indicating that he was willing to go in pursuit of the other man, but I patted his neck, soothing him. There was something about these two. I don’t know what it was, but inside I knew they weren’t for me. If I was going to chop a top, I wanted the perfect one. Who knew what sort of damage there was under that bandage and I was blond once a long time ago with long flowing locks the women couldn’t resist. I’d also come to the realization that maybe that incident with scythe hadn’t been an accident. That was retribution for my dalliance with someone’s wife. I wasn’t keen to have that error repeated, so no long blond hair for me.
For as long time, we stood there, watching the spot where the man hid. Didn’t know why, but what else did I have to do?
“I know you are there.” I realized that Napoleon was talking to me. Of course, he couldn’t see, but he could still hear. “Who are you?”
“Yes,” I managed somehow. It had been years since I spoke. Usually I just laughed manically, it was my only talent. “Friend.”
“There are evil men looking for me. Please, friend, don’t give me up.”
It had been a long time since anyone had even paused to speak with me. I mean, it’s the package, you know, red-eyed horse, flaming pumpkin in one hand and a lethal sword in the other. People usually didn’t hang around for small talk.
“What happened?” I dismounted and calmed Clive. He was nervous, not being used to this, either.
“THRUSH happened.” Napoleon shifted restlessly. “They are going to devastate this countryside, kill the people, clear cut the forest and placer mine the hillsides. My friend and I were trying to stop them. They… took exception to us.”
I could smell the blood now. He was more injured than I realized. In the distance, I could see lights coming our way. That was odd, the Reaper didn’t need a light and I knew his friend… Illya? Yes, Illya didn’t have one.
“Be quiet,” I ordered and repositioned Clive in front of him. Napoleon fell silent and I moved closed to make sure nothing showed through.
The lights drew closer and the roar of motorcycles ripped through the regular night sounds.
I motioned to my best friend and Clive approached, standing ready until I mounted. For some reason, I had a feeling I was about to take the ride of a lifetime, not just mine, but one for everything else that lived and breathed in these woods. Hey, I may be a headless demon, but that didn’t mean I was without a heart. I loved these woods.
The motorcycles approached, how I miss horses, and the lights flashed on me.
“There he is,” shouted someone and I knew it was my cue. Clive reared and I started laughing, while swinging my sword.
“What the hell!” The guy in the front yelled and I headed in his direction. There was the sound of a gun and something impacted my chest. It knocked me from the saddle and I fell to the ground. “Got him. Let’s take him back and see if he is more willing to talk now.”
I stood up and started walking slowly towards them. The pumpkin was shattered, nothing I could do about that, but that just meant I had a hand free for a change. I swung my sword with purpose.
“He’s still alive. Shoot him again.”
Now that I was expecting it, the bullet were like grasshoppers against my legs. They did me no harm as they passed through me. I laughed again, loudly and as crazed as I could.
At this point, the lead motorcycle took off, bouncing along the rutted road. It was a bad choice.
Silly, silly people, I thought and raised my hand. Clive was there in a heartbeat. I was in hot pursuit. The motorcyclist never even felt my blade as it separated his head from his body. It bounced away, down into the stream. I made note of where it landed, just in case.
There had been two motorcycles and that’s when I realized one had doubled back, a classic case of divide and conquer.
“Hurry, Clive,” I whispered and my steed took flight. The motorcycle was stopped just before the pile of leaves that held my companion, for that’s how I thought of him now.
The man was tall and he had flame red hair that seemed to spring wildly from his head. In a moment, I could feel his hatred, his sheer evilness. He was starting at the pile of leaves and speaking. “I know you’re here, Solo. Why don’t you come out and we’ll talk about it, man to man.”
“You’re not a man, Murphy, you’re a monster.” Napoleon stood, shakily. More bravado in his voice than anything else.
“You’d know. Why don’t we go back to my place? I’ve got some nice hot pokers all ready for you.
“I won’t talk.”
“Not the issue. I just want to hear you scream.”
My friend didn’t look up for it, so I did, instead. It got an immediately response.
“Who are you?”
“No one,” I rasped. “And everyone. My land. My rules.”
He laughed. The man called Murphy laughed and right there and then, I knew. He was… Perfect!
“You can’t scare me.” Murphy pointed the gun at Clive and pulled the trigger. Poor Clive. He crumbled and I, well, I sort of lost it. It was a shame, too because I always wanted to be ginger.
Clive was getting to his feet as I was taking my last few swipes of the pile of hamburger. He snorted and nudged me, his touch immediately calming my soul. Then I realized I’d given it a little too much English. That head was gone.
The Reaper was standing there, grinning, like he has a choice. He dragged what was left of Murphy’s soul away, kicking and screaming. It knew where it was going.
“Hello? Are you okay?”
I looked back at Napoleon. “Yes.”
I helped him reassume his position in the leaves. Dawn would be here soon and if I wanted that other head, it was now or never. I mounted and started to ride off.
“Thank you. I don’t know who you are, but thank you.”
“Friend. My name is Friend.”
“Thank you, Friend.”
I’d love to have stuck around, but the night was waning and it was time for both of us to get some rest. Tomorrow, I would have a new head and a new life. Maybe I’d even look Napoleon up someday. I have a feeling we’d have some interesting stories to share.