Disclaimer.

I do not own Sleepy Hollow. The characters and movie plot of Tim Burton's 1999 motion picture Sleepy Hollow is the property of their respective owners. I acknowledge that they do not belong to me. This is a Sleepy Hollow fiction, introducing the character of Inspector Frederick Abberline from the movie, From Hell.

WARNING: I will give you a fair warning. This fiction contains male on male rape and male pregnancy. If you are offended by it then read no furthur and leave now, because I don't want your flames and ash words in my review box. Flamers, I repeat, turn away now.

I rate this mature for strong language, sexual scenes and a scene of rape.

Collaberation with EmiStaw13y

A wispy mist hovered over the surface of the soil-lain ground, making the leafs tremble. Some of them even blew to scatter, catching in an updraft and dancing in an upward spiral, twisting around the winding tree trunk. Though humble in its appearance, behind the bark held inner meaning. A deep horror that lead to fire and flames, a black world unsung.

Hell.

Through the layers of bark, fine granules and blood resigned a land of unearthly moans, the cries of the damned and the uproar of raging hellfire. A loud roar announced itself loudly above the rest, a war cry so furious and enraged that it near struck the land silent. The source of the angered roar stared down at the once-occupied dress lying in his outstretched hands. Black, it was. Black with delicate lace trimmings. Only moments ago had the dress covered the body of a woman, a beautiful woman at that. His strikingly blue eyes scanned every inch of the garment, his white face etched with hostility. Blood smatters clung fresh to the dresses' lace, the body once living inside the dress completely having disintegrated into nothing.

The hessian slowly lowered the dress grimly, realising now that she had not made it. He began to silently seethe, at himself more than anything. It should have come naturally to him that a mere mortal woman would not have survived the passing through of the gates of hell, and now he was left here. Alone, with just a blood-smeared dress and afew strands of pale hair clinging to it. With a furious yell he flung the black dress into a roaring flame, watching with razor-sharp teeth gritted as the flames devoured it. Like the portal had devoured her. His plans were foiled, ruined.

She would have been so perfect. A strong headed, determined woman with little fear about her. A perfect specimen to bear his children. What worthy children they would have been too, but the hessian had to grimace as he was reminded that it was no longer to be. It was impossible for someone with no physcial being to have children, so he could have to remain childless.

.. No, not necasarily.

Even in life the german mercinary had a desire to have an heir, but his passion for massive slaughter and carnage had interjected. It had becoming his bloody lucrative, his thriving in life, and eventually it lead to his death. His buried pining never realised, and even now he could not help but entertain a faint possibility. The horseman glared ahead, thinking inside himself. The woman had seen defeat at the hand of another. Someone superior, someone with a level mind and a boldness to match. Whenever the hessian hunted, he had prevailed. Ever and always. Only once had be been foiled in his tracks, by this clever specimen. Seeing how the hessian had lost his first decision to this being, it seemed only fitting that they should take her rightful place. Such great attributes. The hessian began to smirk, ah .. yes .. perhaps all hope did not have to be abandoned after all.

Through the painful moans and the hissing spits of fire, a triumphant snarling yell bellowed throughout the black land of mist and brimstone smoke.