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kiramaru7Title: The Search For His Missing Head
Author: kira
Table: Autumn: Images (Holiday Prompts)
Prompt: Image 22; autumn road
Fandom: Original
Characters: A headless horseman
Word count: 354
Rating: G
Summary: A headless rider searches a stretch of road for his head…
Author’s note: Special thanks to my beta Kat for pinking this. Please also note that this was also written for Holiday Prompts Autumn: Images table and Faerie Wish 13.
The rider galloped down the road, racing to get home. The moon had set and the sun shone, however weakly, through the mists that shrouded the trees. Though headless, he knew the way better than those who traveled by day. A creature of the night, he’d had fun, scaring foolish humans as he searched in vain for his head. He knew it was around somewhere, if only he could find it. So he had ridden through the night, searching the woods that lined the road for his head.
As the years passed, the rider, ever hopeful, stepped up his search as the road’s surface changed, to no avail. He was stronger during autumn, having died then. It was during a hard fought battle; when a cannon ball flew at him and took his head clean off. His comrades, seeing it happened, grabbed his body and dragged it off to bury it under the cover of darkness. They never found his head. His ghost, unable to remain at rest, rode the stretch of road where he had lost his head, looking high and low for it.
Nowadays, it was much harder to do more than scare unwary travelers, if that. Most of them barely noticed him as he galloped alongside their strange, horseless carriages. Many rode by too fast for him to keep pace with. Unable to stop, he haunted the road, calling out in a low moan to any who passed by about his head. While he was stronger in nights leading up to all Hallows Eve, being the strongest during that particular night, he was mostly forgotten, even by those who lived in the nearby town and so weakened. Instead of a horseman in search of his head, most mortals only saw mists and shadows. His cries, blended with the wind and the faint sound of owls.
The rider faded into legend, his story mostly forgotten. It was said that if one stared hard enough into the mists that flowed out of the forest during a cold autumn morning, one could see a rider galloping down the road in search of his head…
Author: kira
Table: Autumn: Images (Holiday Prompts)
Prompt: Image 22; autumn road
Fandom: Original
Characters: A headless horseman
Word count: 354
Rating: G
Summary: A headless rider searches a stretch of road for his head…
Author’s note: Special thanks to my beta Kat for pinking this. Please also note that this was also written for Holiday Prompts Autumn: Images table and Faerie Wish 13.
The rider galloped down the road, racing to get home. The moon had set and the sun shone, however weakly, through the mists that shrouded the trees. Though headless, he knew the way better than those who traveled by day. A creature of the night, he’d had fun, scaring foolish humans as he searched in vain for his head. He knew it was around somewhere, if only he could find it. So he had ridden through the night, searching the woods that lined the road for his head.
As the years passed, the rider, ever hopeful, stepped up his search as the road’s surface changed, to no avail. He was stronger during autumn, having died then. It was during a hard fought battle; when a cannon ball flew at him and took his head clean off. His comrades, seeing it happened, grabbed his body and dragged it off to bury it under the cover of darkness. They never found his head. His ghost, unable to remain at rest, rode the stretch of road where he had lost his head, looking high and low for it.
Nowadays, it was much harder to do more than scare unwary travelers, if that. Most of them barely noticed him as he galloped alongside their strange, horseless carriages. Many rode by too fast for him to keep pace with. Unable to stop, he haunted the road, calling out in a low moan to any who passed by about his head. While he was stronger in nights leading up to all Hallows Eve, being the strongest during that particular night, he was mostly forgotten, even by those who lived in the nearby town and so weakened. Instead of a horseman in search of his head, most mortals only saw mists and shadows. His cries, blended with the wind and the faint sound of owls.
The rider faded into legend, his story mostly forgotten. It was said that if one stared hard enough into the mists that flowed out of the forest during a cold autumn morning, one could see a rider galloping down the road in search of his head…
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Date: 2019-11-29 04:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-11-29 05:14 pm (UTC)