꧁༺𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗟𝗬 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦༻꧂ - Ichabod Crane × Detective Reader

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖓 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖕𝖘 𝖔𝖚𝖙.

I cleard my throat and stood up from the armchair, not trying to make ourselves even more awkward. I took the oath to not directly look up towards him.

"Ah! Mr Crane." Mr Van Tassel greeted the man, unintentionally breaking my chain of thoughts I focused my eyes over the leader of the town.

"It's nothing wrong," he assured with a smile, while the rest of the older men stood around the room, patiently waiting for them to get introduced, along with myself.

I stood beside the doctor and gave him a sheepish smile, when he asked me if I was alright.

Though, I was dreading the sight of this pale skinned man, the way his deep brown eyes met mine; well, I couldn't say I felt anything for him. But there was something in my stomach going on whenever I saw this man.

"....and this is Miss Y/n L/n. A detective by profession." Baltus finished his long introduction, with a small wave of his hand infront of the pale man and immediately became grim and serious.

I cleard my throat awkwardly and turning around, faced the young constable; he was trying his level best to not look at me in my eyes.

"Nice to meet you, Mr Crane." I heard my own voice. It was a strange voice. As though each sound was different in the room.

"Nice to meet you too, Miss-" he paused for a second, "Detective L/n." And held his hand out, which I surprisingly accepted.

In other times, if it was a different man and a different moment. I would have definitely blushed as Mr Crane gently kissed the knuckles of my gloved hand; but, whatsoever it wasn't the time of me flattering around like an exotic butterfly.

But alas! My butterfly days had already gone a long while back.

I brought my hand slightly on my side and a while later, Baltus started to explain the dark legend of the town, which had woken up after the era of thirty years. I was barely listening to him and was focused over the clock hanged at the side of a wall, and below it was seated Mr Crane.

The other older men were also seated around, listening to Mr Van Tassel and after a short while; I tried my best to gain my courage and quickly glanced over the constable seated across the room.

He was frowning; and was helding his hands in a tight fist, his eyes were focused over Baltus,

as he went on telling about the death of the Deadly Hessain Horseman: a mercenary from the American Revolutionary War, and whose head had been mysteriously chopped off, and right now, he is the one; who rides a black steed in search of his missing head.

I had heard about this dark legend for almost a hundred times by my mother, along with other stories of goblins and mermaids, whenever I would deny to sleep on my room.

She used to tell me that the goblins and elves were an evil creatures, who didn't liked to seen by the humans. But, despite of the fairy tale books which I had often found myself reading; it only described that they were some enchanting creatures with magical powers.

Also my mother had once narrated a story of my maternal great grandfather, who was a popular and a very wealthy sailor, and used to sail his ships all across the world. But once, he along with his ship crew had spotted an odd creature in the ocean, when they were sailing abroad.

My mother had said darkly to me and my brothers, that our great grandfather had actually seen a real mermaid, and it isn't that beautiful, as it is narrated in the story books; they were an ugly creature, with beard in their tanned faces and used to eat human meat; An evil creature by precise.

Thus, it was just a superstitious atmosphere that we little children were reared in, and we also heard, from our infancy, countless tales of horror, some mere fables doubtless, others legend of dark deeds of the olden times.

But as years went on, however, the old ghostly tales partially lost their effects, and my mind were turned more over studies of History, Philosophy and Literature; and however I, including my two elder brothers had left the little town for our higher education, abroad.

I was certainly jolted out of my train of thoughts by someone shifting by my side, straightening my back and chewing the inside of my mouth, I chanced to look over Mr Crane, nervously. And noticed that he was ready to leave for his departure.

He stood up from the place, were he was seated before; eyes narrowed towards Baltus. I could see the disbelief written in his eyes.

"I'am going to look after the cases tomorrow and by thus of this false legend of the town. I don't believe a single word you uttered, Sir.'' He said pointedly, turning towards Baltus with utter seriousness.

"It's the truth which we are living in, young man," Mr Philipse replied with a sigh, and in the behalf of Van Tassel, "We are just trying to warn you." He mumbled, looking over the other gentlemen.

I sighed, slouching over the armchair. Why does every man are so stubborn?

Mr Crane sighed and shook his head, he turned around to leave. But then-

"He is telling the truth." I heard my own voice, well, so much odd. Without thinking anything, and pushing myself up. I placed my arms around my chest and stared intensely at the pale man's back;

He turned around, surprised. And looked at me, our eyes met. But I quickly hided the sensation of a feeling in my stomach. And immediately recovered my expression with a grim seriousness.

"What do you mean?" Mr Crane asked, surprisingly the tone of his voice decreased, and it was soft.

I chewed my bottom lips and replied, "I have seen the headless horseman with my own eyes."

His eyebrows went up and down with surprisement, along with the other gentlemen seated around the room. Everyone's attention turned towards me, as I stood staring over the floor.

"How did you?" Mr Hardenbrook asked, suddenly getting interested.

I frowned, as I looked over the clock which was above Mr Carne.

It was already half past 12.

Shaking my head lightly, I recollected the incident which took place over four weeks back, and explained, "The day when Late Mr Van Garrett's son Drik was killed, I was there, in the other side of the churchyard were his deadbody was found lying. I had gone over there to search for the headless horse man's footprints or rather to say, the horse's footprints, which he rides. But as usual I found none, but well, my luck was with me, when I found myself staring at the headless horseman, in the other part of the forest nearby," I ended my narration, rather viciously.

Everyone maintained a respectful, gloomy silence. If it had continued another minute, I would certainly knew that they would start puckering over unusual comments, or questions. But before anyone could do anything,

I walked over the door, murmuring over the older men a safe and peaceful night, I just wanted to vanish from the place in thin air; with my filthy mouth, that I couldn't keep shut for too long. I just wanted to slap myself.

And with my own consciousness, I  tripped over the carpet on the floor, while walking and stumbled right over Mr Crane, who stood in the middle of the room.

I gasped, immediately cursing myself for such an ill fate; but, found myself in the warm embrace of the young Constable. I turned over and casted a glimpse of the pale man, who stood just too flustered by our sudden contact.

Blinking and frowning, I immediately became aware: that there were spectators all around the room, and with their keen eyes. I immediately wriggled out of the situation, giving a quick apology with a little thank you to Mr Crane. He nodded again and gestured for me towards the door.

God, What a Sin I had committed!

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