Lone Rider

Chapter 1

Tish laughed with exhilaration as her horse galloped down the moonlit trail, her long dark hair flowing like a curtain behind her. She never felt as free as she did when she was on horseback. When she was on Buck she was free. She could almost feel the muscles in her legs that had been dead since the accident, she could forget about the restraining wheelchair that she was confined to for most of the day, or the awkward sideways stares that she tried to avoid when she went out in public. It made her angry that she was an object of curiosity and pity now and she would always meet those stares with furious glares of her own. That would usually make the color rise in peoples' cheeks and they would turn away embarrassed.

But Buck didn't look at her any different. He didn't stare at her useless legs and then look at her with pity. He looked at her just the same as he did everyone else. When Tish had started therapeutic riding she hadn't been thrilled at the idea, but she had quickly fallen in love with it, and with Buck.

The old stable horse had been her best friend for almost a year now, and Tish was finally starting to feel like her old self again. At least she was until this afternoon. She'd had a rough day at home and ignoring her stepfather's angry warnings she'd left. She'd made her way to her friend Rebecca's house and had persuaded her to bring her to the stable. Once Rebecca had dropped her off Tish had headed straight for Buck. She needed a break from reality and he was her ticket to freedom.

The stable property where Tish rode was large, and several trails branched off the main path, one leading to a small creek, another to the pasture, and the last to the road. Tish pulled back on the reins and Buck obediently slowed, dropping his head forward and blowing nosily out through his nose as he fought to catch his breath. His sides heaved underneath Tish's numb legs, but Tish could see the movement from her peripheral vision as she scanned the dark trails, trying to decide which one to follow.

Buck snorted loudly and shook his head, bits of foam flew from his mouth and landed on the dark ground, illuminated only for a second by the moonlight before being absorbed by the earth.

"Need a drink, Buck?" Tish asked patting the horse's sweaty neck. She turned him towards the right, gently tapping his hind quarters with her riding crop and clicking with her tongue. Buck turned obediently and picked up into a collected trot, his gate bumping Tish gently up and down in the saddle.

Tish could see the reflected moon in the creek's surface as they approached and she pulled Buck up into a walk. The gentle thud of hooves on dirt and the trickle of the water were the only sounds. Tish thought that was a bit strange because she knew there were plenty of nocturnal creatures that wandered around here, but there were no signs of them.

Buck seemed to notice this too. His ears swiveled on his head and he approached the brook cautiously, lowering his head down to the water he took a few quick swallows of the icy water. He shifted his weight uneasily and straightened up after a couple seconds, his head snapping towards the south, his ears up and alert.

"Come on, Buck, let's go." Tish said pulling on the reins. Buck ignored her. Tish frowned and tugged a little hard on the reins, Buck usually was never difficult and he always did as she wanted. "Buck, come on."

Clucking her tongue she tapped him smartly with her crop and this time Buck obeyed. He turned his head away from the dark and stepped into the shallow creek. Tish grabbed the special hand holds on the saddle, something she hadn't had to use in a long time, but in the dark and with Buck's strange movements as he made his way across the creek, carefully placing each foot down it made Tish's balance waver.

Bits of spray splashed Tish's arms as they hit the deepest part of the creek, giving her goosebumps and making the hairs on her arms stand on end. She shivered and urged Buck on, her eyes roaming restlessly on the surrounding trees. She found it strange, and perhaps it was just her imagination but she could've sworn that she heard the sound of extra hooves on the trail in front of her.

Buck stopped and he raised his head wearily, one ear swiveling back toward her slightly the other perked forward. Tish listened too, holding her breath and trying to ignore the feeling of her heart beating against her ribs. She could hear it distinctly now. She wasn't imagining it.

The sound of galloping hooves was coming right at her. Tish froze, her cold hands feeling frozen to the special hand holds on her saddle. Buck didn't wait for her command. In a quick simple movement he had turned around, kicking up a spray of water and had made a short leap onto the bank from which they had just come. He took off at a mad gallop heading straight back for the stable. His heavy breathing was interrupted by occasional snorts as Tish tried to avoid getting hit in the face with low hanging branches.

She could still hear the other horse behind them, and to her horror she realized that the other horse was faster. She knew that Buck was well beyond his best years but she urged him on, she leaned forward in the saddle, keeping her head close to his neck and tapped him sharply with her riding crop again.

Buck seemed eager to comply, he pushed himself faster, his feet flying over the ground in his frenzied pace. Tish almost felt like she was flying, but it wasn't the same freedom that she'd felt a mere half hour before. Now she felt as though she were stuck in super thick glue that was drying all around them. Every time Buck's hooves left the ground it seemed as though it were in slow motion, for she could still hear the other horse gaining on them.

Terrified she turned back to see if she could see who was following them. A pair of blood red eyes greeted her and the hot breath of the other rider's mount hit her face. She hadn't realized that they were so close, and surprised she lost her balance. She toppled off the saddle and hit the ground with a heavy thud. Buck whinnied but kept running his tail held high and his reins dangling loosely around his neck as he hurried back to the stable.

The other rider stopped, his horse snorted angrily and turned shaking his head and chomping at the bit. Tish couldn't see the rider very well in the darkness, the moon was hidden, the canopy of the trees were too thick to see anything besides the occasional shadow and the odd fiery eyes of the other rider's horse.

Desperate she grabbed at some of the nearby shrubs and pulled herself backwards hoping to drag herself away from whoever this was. She was sure that it wasn't anyone she knew and the strange tingle she felt in her stomach made her think that whoever he was, he wasn't there to help her.

Her limp legs dragged along the ground digging up small ruts as she dragged them behind her. She heard the heavy boots hit the dirt as the other rider got off his horse and then the soft footfalls as he approached her. His steps didn't falter, as if he knew exactly where she was.

"Please," Tish begged as she pulled herself forward another couple of inches. "Please, don't hurt please." She sobbed desperately and looked over her shoulder, her face peering up at the dark shadowed person behind her.

She could tell from the build that it was a man and from his position he seemed to be considering her, as if he found her position odd. One arm was lax at his side but the other was rigid as if he held something in his hand.

Fear froze her to the spot. "No, please don't hurt me."

The man straightened and his arms relaxed into a slightly slumped position. He turned his back on her and took a couple of steps away. Tish took a quick breath of relief and then her eyes widened in horror as the man turned back and swung his arm around right at her head.

"So tell me what the deal is again with this stupid dude ranch?" Dean asked through clenched teeth as he rounded a sharp turn in the road, the Impala screeched loudly as it fought to keep its hold on the road. Sam frowned at him from the passenger seat for a minute before returning his attention back to the paper and to the obituary that he'd circled earlier that morning.

He'd gotten a call from Bobby the night before and had been told to look up the obituaries in Colorado. Sam hadn't seen anything too unusual at first, but then he'd come across one obituary that had seemed a little strange. Tish Gardner, 21, had died four days ago not far from her riding stable, which also qualified as a dude ranch. That wasn't what had caught Sam's eye though, it was the closed casket and that the family wasn't planning on holding a viewing that had peaked his interest.

He'd stayed up late looking into newspaper articles, police and coroner reports. At first it just seemed like a riding accident. Tish had gone out on the trails after dark without telling anyone and they discovered her horse in the morning, still wearing its saddle and looking completely worn out. But when anyone had tried to approach him to get the saddle off the horse had spooked and trotted away, refusing to let anyone touch it. They'd sent a search party out to look for Tish and had discovered her body by the creek that ran through the middle of the property.

There didn't seem to be any supernatural indicators but as Sam had moved on to the police reports he wasn't so sure. He guessed that the media was being forced to keep quiet about the severity of Tish's death. According to the police reports Tish's body had been found halfway submerged in the creek and her blood had been flowing steadily with the clear water. Her head had been removed but they had not been able to find it. The coroner's report determined that Tish's head had been cut off by a sharp weapon, probably a sword from the looks of it.

So after a few quick calls Sam had woken Dean up and had them packed up and on the road within ten minutes. Dean was grumpy from being woken up so early and without his usual cup of caffeine he wasn't in an agreeable mood.

"Tish Gardner was found decapitated, her body by the creek and her head missing. That doesn't seem odd to you?" Sam asked for the third time. Dean had been even less pleased than usual when Sam told him that he'd made reservations for them on the dude ranch itself. It gave them better access to the property as well as the locals who would know the properties backgrounds as well as old legends.

Dean clenched his teeth and wrapped his fingers a little tighter around the steering wheel. "So what are you thinkin'?"

Sam frowned again. He'd tried to find anything strange in the police reports but there hadn't been any sign of anyone else. There had only been a single set of hoof prints and a couple of ruts that led from a patch of trees to the creek, as though Tish had dragged herself to the river and then had been beheaded there. But there weren't any other prints, human or horse that would indicate that someone had done it to Tish. The police were baffled.

"Vengeful ghost maybe?" Sam suggested as he pulled his laptop from its leather satchel and booted it up. There might be something useful he could find on the internet about Tish's death. If it was a ghost they worked in patterns and the ghost would have died in a similar way to how Tish died.

"Seems kind of familiar." Dean muttered as he reached for the box of cassette tapes and picked one out at random. He didn't even glance at the title before pushing it into the cassette deck.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, halting his internet search to look inquisitively at his brother.

Dean shrugged, "It's nothing - just kind of reminds me of that Johnny Depp movie."

Sam's eyebrows narrowed and a few lines creased his forehead. "Sleepy Hollow?" He asked slightly bewildered.

"Yeah that's the one. Where the headless horseman goes around chopping off heads and storing them in that tree."

Sam turned back to his computer and began a new search. "Well according to legends the horseman was one of the 548 Hessians killed in a battle for Chatterton Hill, and his head was severed by an American cannonball."

"Yeah but in the movie they cut his head off with his own sword," Dean cut in.

"Dude, reality check - they don't make movies like that based on historical fact."

Dean frowned.

"Besides," Sam continued, "the headless horseman doesn't exist. He was a character created by Washington Irving for "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow". It's a classic story, Dean, but its just an old wives tale. Most versions of it are actually focused on Ichabod Crane and Brom Bones who just pretended to be the horseman to scare Ichabod out of town so he could marry the local beauty."

"So what do you think this is then?" Dean asked sharply shooting Sam a short sideways glance.

Sam ran his fingers through his tussled hair and sighed. "I really don't know, Dean. This just doesn't make any sense." His fingers ran over the keyboard on his computer and he frowned at the screen for a few minutes in silence. "As far as I can see the property doesn't have any bloody background, the owners of the ranch have had it in their family for generations, just passing it on father to son and there haven't been any family arguments over that either. Its not an Indian burial ground either. It just doesn't make sense, why there? And why the beheading?"

Dean shrugged. "Guess we'll have to ask around when we get there. How far are we from this place anyway?"

Sam picked up the folded map he'd tossed onto the seat that morning. "Let's see we're about fifty miles out." He said as he ran his finger along the line he'd penciled in. "We should be there within an hour."

"Goodie." Dean muttered under his breath.

"Dean, you know we have to do something about this." Sam said quietly.

"Yeah, yeah...just don't see why we couldn't stay at a motel like usual. Why we have to actually stay at the stupid ranch itself." Dean grumbled.

"Because we'll have better access to the property and we won't have to sneak in to look around. If we are guests we'll be able to look around without looking suspicious."

Dean rolled his eyes but said nothing. He focused on the black asphalt in front of them and let the words of the music flow over him, tapping his fingers in time with the beat.

But your thoughts will still be wanderin',
The way they always do
And you don't feel much like ridin',
You just wish the trip was through

Here I am, on the road again,
There I am, up on the stage
There I go, playin' star again,
There I go, turn the page.

"You sure this is the right road?" Dean asked almost an hour later as the Impala's front right tire hit another dip in the very uneven bumpy dirt road, jostling her passengers almost to the point of violence. Her engine growled loudly almost as if she were angry at them. Dean's fingers were white on the wheel and his jaw clenched.

"Should be just around the next bend." Sam said as he gripped the edge of his seat trying to stop himself from hitting the ceiling with the violent bumps and dips that made him bounce in his seat every time they hit one.

Dean eased on the break as the road sharply turned, but he could still feel the tires skid and slide on the loose dirt and rocks. Even with as much experience as he had driving in all kinds of conditions he was having a hard time keeping the Impala on the road. "Sam, when this is over you will owe me detail duty. My baby's gonna have dust in her gears she's kickin' up so much of it."

"Let's just focus on taking care of the hunt, Dean, then we can argue about cleaning up the Impala."

"Is that it?" Dean asked with a nod of his head towards the large house that was just visible over the top of the hill.

"Yep, that's it." Sam assured.

Dean stepped on the gas and the Impala growled loudly, kicking up rooster tails and rocks as she fought to climb her way over the hill. A vein appeared on Dean's forehead and the muscles bulged in his jaw. "Outta make a decent road to get out here." He grumbled to himself. He patted the Impala's dashboard nervously as she started to skid and her back end began to swing around. "Come on, baby, come on."

With a few expert movements Dean straightened out the Impala and got her to the top of the hill. Both brothers breathed in relief as the Impala's rear tires breached the top of the hill and they saw the Canyon Drive Ranch sign posted in the middle of an iron arch that was surrounded on either side by white fences. The brothers drove under the arch and headed up the drive towards the large house.

There were several designated spots for ranch guests' cars, and only one of them was taken. Dean pulled in beside the beat up old Chevy truck and killed the engine. He squinted out of the windshield at the white stable where a few horses could be seen. A couple of people on horseback were just exiting the stable laughing as they trotted off towards one of the trails.

Sam pushed open his door and went around to the trunk and waited for Dean to join him so they could get their bags.

Dean groaned as he pushed open his door and the semi-sweet smell of sweat, leather, hay and manure hit him. He wrinkled his nose as he started for the back of the car and slowly opened the trunk. Sam reached in and pulled out his duffel, slinging it over his shoulder and starting for the main house. Dean reluctantly copied him, watching where he stepped so as to avoid any piles some of the horses might have left behind.

He caught up with Sam at the front door. Sam was looking uncertainly at the knocker. "Do we knock?"

Dean shrugged.

Sam grabbed hold of the brass knocker and banged it a few times against the heavy oak door. Dean shifted his weight uncomfortably beside him as they waited for the door to be opened.

There was no answer.

The brothers looked at each other at the same time, then Sam grabbed a hold of the knocker and rapped it sharply against the door again.

"You boys Sam and Dean?" A friendly feminine voice from behind them asked. Both brothers turned.

The woman who had spoken to them was tall and lean, her jeans dusty and slightly torn at the knee. They hugged her legs nicely and curved delicately at her hips. She wore a light blue button up flannel shirt and a tan cowboy hat that hid her face in shadow. She had gloves tucked into her right pocket and a rope coiled and tied at her waist. Her long dark brown hair was tied back in a tight braid that had fallen over her right shoulder. She smiled at them, her expression friendly.

"Yeah, that's us," Sam finally answered.

"I'm Jean. My husband and I run the ranch." Jean stepped up to the front steps so that she was out of the sun.

"I'm Sam," Sam greeted her with a warm smile of his own. "And this is my brother Dean" He gestured to Dean who nodded once at her.

Jean flipped her hair over her shoulder and leaned against the side of the house, crossing her legs at the ankles. "You boys like horses?"

Dean opened his mouth but Sam beat him to it. "Yeah, my brother here loves them." He elbowed Dean in the ribs. Dean shot his brother a quick dirty look but then forced a smile on his face.

"That's right always have." He said as lightly as he could from between his clenched teeth.

"You boys ever ridden before?" Jean asked eying Dean speculatively.

The brothers both shook their heads.

"That's ok," Jean said brightly as she pulled her gloves out of her pocket and slapped them lightly against the palm of her left hand. "We have several beginners that come here and lots of easy horses. Why don't I show you boys to your cabin and then I can introduce you to your horses?"

"Sounds great." Sam said brightly.

"Yeah great." Dean grumbled under his breath. Sam elbowed him again.

The brothers followed Jean around the house to where six moderate size cabins were built, each had a number over the door. They were old fashioned wood cabins with flower beds running along the length of each porch. Several tulips and daisies of multiple colors swayed in the light breeze. There was a water trough on the side of each cabin along with a pump and each cabin had a couple of small windows facing the front and one on each side.

"You boys will be staying in cabin three." Jean said as she lead the way to their cabin. "We serve breakfast at six and dinner at seven. We will pack a lunch for you if you want to take it on the trail but we also serve lunch at noon if you'd prefer to stay here at the ranch. I'll give you a tour of the main ranch house later but I've got a couple of new colts that need some work done this afternoon. We have a cattle drive at the end of the week if you boys are interested in going on that, and my husband and my boys do a little mini rodeo on Friday if you boys would like to come see that." She handed them both a key to the cabin. "Why don't you boys go ahead and put your things inside then meet me at the stable in five minutes?"

Sam and Dean nodded and headed up the steps of their designated cabin.

"I'm not gonna ride some flea bitten old nag, Sam." Dean snapped as he slid the key into the lock and let himself in.

"Dean it's the fastest way to get around the trails. You can't take the Impala the trails aren't wide enough - it's either ride or walk."

"I'll walk."

Sam huffed out an impatient breath. "What are you afraid of?"

Dean merely shook his head as he looked around the cabin. There was a small green and black love seat and a small TV in the living room. Along with a book case that had a few books, and even from here Dean could tell that they were about horses. The living room branched off into a small hallway that lead to the bedroom and bathroom.

Dean had to admit, even begrudgingly, that this place was much nicer than the places they usually stayed. The comforters were a dark navy blue with a few pale blue stripes running across it horizontally. Each queen size bed had four pillows on it and an extra blanket was folded at the foot of each. There were two dressers and a full length sized mirror in the corner of the room. Dean dumped his duffel onto the bed closest to the door and yanked opened the zipper. He began to rummage around inside ignoring Sam as he placed his own duffel down on his bed and sat down beside it.

"There it is," Dean said grinning in triumph and pulling out his .45. He slipped it into the waistband of his jeans and tugged his shirt down a little more to hide the bump.

"You're not gonna need that, Dean." Sam said watching bemused as Dean continued to search through his duffel.

"Says you," Dean snapped back not bothering to look at his brother. He pulled out his bowie and slipped it under his pillow.

Sam stifled a laugh and headed for the bathroom. He took care of his business quickly and splashed cold water onto his face. Dean was waiting for his turn when Sam opened the door. So Sam let his brother brush past him and headed for the living room to wait.

Jean was waiting for them by the large stable doors. She smiled at them as they approached. "Hey guys, you ready to meet your horses?"

Sam smiled back but Dean didn't seem all that eager to answer that question. He stood slightly back from his brother his eyes roaming the dark confines of the stable wearily.

Jean waved them forward and stepped into the shadowed stable. The brothers followed her, Dean a little reluctantly.

"Here at Canyon Road Ranch we have one rule that we enforce on our guests and that is that the horse you use here is your responsibility during your stay. We'll take care of the feeding and watering, and we'll be happy to assist you if you need it but we prefer that our guests take care of their own horses. It creates a stronger bond between horse and rider. So your responsibilities for your horse while you are here will be to groom, muck and exercise your horse."

"Muck?" Sam asked.

"She means shovel their..." Dean started but Jean interrupted him.

"We ask that you clean their stalls at least once a day." Jean explained as she started down one of the aisles. Several curious horses poked their heads out of their stalls and whuffled softly as Jean passed them. She patted some of their noses affectionately.

She stopped at the end of the aisle. "Dean," Jean said looking at Dean and Dean took a step back wearily. "We are gonna put you on Ranger." Jean said brightly as she slid open the lock and pushed open the stall door. Dean hesitated but Sam poked him in the back making take a couple of steps forward.

Jean slid the harness over horse's nose and did up the buckle behind the horse's ears. She stroked his neck affectionately as she clip on the lead rope and lead Ranger out of the stall. Dean stared up at the large animal and it stared back at him, looking quite bored. The animal was black with small black polka dots all over its body. It blinked wearily then lifted its head and yawned widely revealing large yellow teeth.

"Now the first thing to remember, Dean, is your horse is your friend. When you lead him stay to his left and always walk by his head. That way he can see you." Jean directed handing Dean the lead. Sam almost laughed, for a moment he could've sworn that Dean's face had gone so pale it was transparent.

"Sam," Jean continued after she cast a worried look at Dean. "We're gonna put you on Ebony. She works well with Ranger and she's is excellent for beginners." Jean opened a second stall and stepped in, a moment later she lead a jet black horse out and handed the lead to Sam. Sam took the rope easily and stroked the mare's neck.

"Ok," Jean said clapping her hands and smiling brightly at both of them. "Lets get these horses brushed and saddled and get you boys on them."

Dean gulped audibly but Sam grinned. "Sure, Jean, sounds great."

"This way to the cross ties." Jean said as she lead them back down the aisle.

Sam started to walk with Ebony walking easily beside him. Dean followed, cursing vehemently under his breath.

"I do what?" Dean asked again for the third time as he looked at the saddle uneasily from where he stood on the mounting block. Ranger stood patiently next to it, his eyes closed lazily as Jean rubbed his forehead and played with his forelock.

"Grab a hold of Ranger's reins and hold them tight at his neck," Jean instructed patiently. She had a hold of the reins by Ranger's mouth just in case but it was best to teach a rider how to mount safely right from the start. Dean grabbed a hold of Ranger's reins, curling them into his fist and held them tight at the base of Ranger's neck. Ranger tossed his head. "Not so tight - there that's better. Good. Now place your left foot into the stirrup." Dean hesitated then placed his foot in the stirrup, his hands slackening on the reins a little. "Keep a tight hold on your reins, Dean, that way Ranger won't move out from under you - that's right."

Sam chuckled a little. He was already sitting on Ebony, the reins held loosely in his hands.

"Now swing your right leg over his back and sit in the saddle." Jean instructed.

Dean hesitated.

"You can grab a hold of the saddle horn if you need to." Jean encouraged with a smile.

Dean grabbed the saddle horn, they'd been instructed on parts of the saddle already. Not that Dean remembered every part but he remembered Jean telling him to grab onto the horn if he really had to to catch his balance. So grabbing hold of the saddle horn Dean bounced twice, used the foot that he already had in the stirrup for leverage and heaved himself onto Ranger's back.

Ranger blew heavily out through his nose. Jean smiled up at Dean. "Very good, Dean. Now find your other stirrup there - that's right, good. Now you ready to walk?"

Dean grimaced. He didn't feel comfortable up here on this animal. He could feel every breath the animal took as with each inhale and exhale his legs would move with the horse's sides. He also found the saddle very uncomfortable.

"To make him walk, Dean, squeeze him gently with your legs and cluck with your tongue." Jean instructed from where she stood. She released Ranger's reins and took a few steps away. "Your reins," she continued "are what you use to direct him. If you want to go left turn the reins to the left if you want to go right turn the reins to the right. If you want to stop pull back. Ok?"

Dean nodded. It seemed simple enough. Sam clucked his tongue and squeezed Ebony's sides she immediately started up in a slow walk, Sam swayed slightly in the saddle with her motion. Dean forced his fists to loosen slightly and bit his lip.

"Here," Jean said quietly from his side as she touched his leg. "Let me show you how to hold those properly. If you hold them too tense the horse will be able to pick up on that and it will make him tense too. Just relax, Dean."

Dean tried.

"Pretend you are holding two ice cream cones." Jean instructed as she manipulated Dean's hands so they were in the right position. "There you go. Now go ahead and give him a squeeze."

Dean squeezed his legs tight around Ranger's sides and clucked with his tongue. Ranger immediately began to walk. His gate just as slow and rhythmic as Ebony's had seemed to be. Dean's body slowly swayed from side to side with the rhythm. He followed his brother around the indoor ring, experimenting with turning Ranger first one way then another. Ranger always responded to the lightest of commands. He seemed willing to listen to him. Dean relaxed a little.

"Very good, Dean." Jean said encouragingly. She was siting on the guardrail watching them ride. "Keep your heels down. That's it - great job. Excellent, Sam, you've got a really good seat."

Dean looked at his brother, and to his surprise Sam looked very comfortable. As if he'd been riding horses all his life. Dean had a sneaking suspicion that Sam had done this before. He ground his teeth together.

"Ok," Jean finally said after a few more times around the ring. "Do you boys want to try going faster?"

Dean paled but Sam grinned.

"How fast do these things go?" Dean asked.

"A good race horse can get up to forty miles an hour." Jean said with a large smile. "I don't think you'll be going that fast anytime soon though, Dean. You're just learning." She hadn't missed the way the color had rapidly drained from Dean's face. "A trot is the next gate and it is a little bouncy. So I want you sit deep in your saddles, hold onto the horn if you have to, gather up your reins, squeeze with your legs and say trot."

Dean gathered up his reins, squeezed with his legs, sat deep in the saddle and closed his eyes. "Trot."

"You sure you're ok?" Sam asked as he watched his brother hobble towards the bathroom. Dean's entire left side was covered in dirt. After Jean had told them to trot Sam had picked up the gate easily bouncing slightly up and down in the saddle with Ebony's gate. He'd only gone halfway around the ring when he'd heard a sickening thud, Dean's grunt of pain and then Ranger's skiddish hooves as the horse had shied away from his brother.

Sam had pulled up and quickly dismounted his own horse, running to his brother's side. Dean had landed on his side and had had the air knocked out of him. But he didn't seem to be badly hurt. Jean had grabbed both horses' reins and had led them back over to the brothers. Dean caught his breath and sat up, staring at the spotted horse incredulously.

"It'd be better if you kept your eyes open next time, Dean." Jean had said gently as she handed him the reins. She made him get right back on Ranger but had only made him walk around the ring four more times before telling them to go ahead and dismount and take their horses back to the cross ties so they could groom them.

"I'm fine, Sam." Dean snapped as slammed entered the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

Sam sighed and sat down on the loveseat. He knew Dean's ego was probably bruised worse than his side was but that still didn't repress his worry. Dean hadn't been able to hide the wince when he'd dismounted Ranger when their ride was finished, and Sam hadn't missed the way Dean's hand had gone to his side. But as always Dean had shrugged off Sam's help, had groomed his horse as he had been shown and then had limped off toward the cabin. Sam made a mental note to clean Ranger's stall for Dean tomorrow if Dean was still so sore.

Sam had been riding a couple of times with Jess. He wasn't an expert at it, but he had a better sense of it than Dean did.

Sam tried to press his legs together, feeling the ache in his muscles as they protested. Sam had forgotten how many muscles one used when horseback riding, especially the muscles that one wasn't usually aware of until they were sore. He knew he'd be stiff for the next week. But it wasn't particularly painful, just awkward. Dean, always being a little bow-legged, was even more so.

He glanced at the clock hanging on the opposite wall. It was ten minutes to seven. If Dean didn't hurry Sam was going to have to go to dinner in the clothes he'd ridden in.

Dean didn't seem to be in any hurry, however, and at three minutes to seven he finally emerged from the bathroom, holding his left arm a little closer to his body than normal. Sam frowned.

"Are you..." Sam began but Dean held up a hand to stop him.

"Don't," Dean said quietly he sat down beside his brother on the loveseat and glared at the blank TV screen.

They sat in silence, Sam waiting for the inevitable.

"You've done this before haven't you?" Dean finally accused turning to glare at his brother.

Sam nodded sheepishly. "Jess had me go with her a couple times. I was never great at it but she seemed to like it."

Dean nodded. "I thought so."

"I got the 'Land in the Dirt' reward." Sam said with a grin. "The first time we went riding my horse spooked and reared. I slid off the back of the saddle and landed on my butt in the dirt. They printed up a certificate for me and everything."

Dean grinned and chuckled lightly with Sam.

"Well, at least there's one good thing about this place." Dean said slapping his legs and getting to his feet.

"What's that?" Sam asked already guessing at the answer.

"It's time for dinner and if tastes as good as it smells I think it'll make up for the horses."

Sam grinned at his brother and both of them headed out the door as the dinner bell rang from the main house's back porch.

Sam had to admit that Dean had a point when it came to the food. After a hearty meal of homemade fried chicken, biscuits, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn, baked beans, coleslaw, and blueberry pie with ice cream for dessert the brothers started back for their cabin, their stomachs bulging. Dean had an extra slice of pie on a paper plate and kept playing with the tinfoil. Sam had a feeling that the pie wasn't going to last very long even though Dean had had seconds of everything. Sam shook his head and smiled to himself. He wasn't sure where Dean packed it all. He felt full to the brink of exploding and yet Dean could've kept eating.

"Did you wanna go check out the trail tonight? See if we can find anything?" Sam asked as Dean lifted the tinfoil and broke off a bit of the flaky pie crust. Dean rolled his eyes at his brother and shook his head.

"If you think I'm gonna get back on that horse again today, Sammy, you are sadly mistaken."

Sam smirked as he pulled out his cabin key and opened the door for his brother. Dean plopped down on the loveseat and ripped the tinfoil all the way off and helped himself to his pie. "Does this place have cable?"

Sam frowned. "Probably not, Dean. Looks like they've got some movies though." He crouched down by the small DVD shelf and examined the movies. He grinned. "Mostly Clint Eastwood and John Wayne."

Dean grimaced. "Never mind."

Sam grabbed the TV remote anyway and sat down next to Dean. He flipped through the channels idly not really looking for anything to watch.

"Wait, wait," Dean said after a few clicks.

"What?"

"Go back. No one more. Yeah right there." Dean grinned.

"Dude we are not watching Porky's II." Sam complained as he began shuffling through the channels again.

"You're such a kill joy, Sammy."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam muttered under his breath.

The room took on a neon glow as the sun began to set. Dean tossed the empty paper plate onto the coffee table and stood up. He stretched slowly and yawned. "Think I'm gonna turn in."

"It's only 8:00, Dean." Sam said frowning.

"Well, there are guns to clean and knives to sharpen." Dean said shrugging then he gestured to the TV. "It's better than watching you channel surf." He shot his brother a grin as Sam rolled his eyes then started down the hall.

Sam flipped off the TV, there wasn't anything on anyway. Then he slowly walked down to the bedroom to join his brother. He wasn't surprised to see that Dean was already sitting on his bed, their guns spread out along the comforter and Dean was already cleaning out one of the barrels. Sam wrinkled his nose a little at the smell of the cleaner but sat down on his bed to watch.

Dean's expert hands worked quickly over the gun, cleaning both barrels before putting the gun back together with ease and loading rounds into it. Then he'd flick on the safety and set it aside. Sam knew Dean's routine well, he seen his brother doing it most of his life. He frowned a little when Dean winced as he reached for the next gun furthest from him.

"You still sore?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged but didn't answer. He pulled up stiffly and began to take apart the new gun for cleaning. Sam scowled at him. He stood up and strode over to his brother, planting his feet right beside his brother's left leg.

"Show me," Sam growled narrowing his eyes.

Dean stopped what he was doing and raised his head to look inquisitively into his brother's face. "What?"

"Let me see," Sam said his voice getting rough with his impatience.

"It's just a little bruise, Sam, no big deal." Dean said rolling his eyes.

Sam huffed impatiently and grabbing the gun from his brother's hands he tossed it next to the others and tugged at Dean's shirt. Dean made to stop him but Sam was too quick for him.

Dean's side was a dark blue, almost black, starting from just below his ribcage and going up two or three ribs, stretching around almost all the way to his back. Sam's eyes widened in shock.

"Dean, how the hell did this..." Sam trailed off his eyes shooting to his brother's.

Dean tugged free and yanked his shirt back down. He pushed his brother away roughly and stood up, his breath heaving. "Damn horse stepped on me when I fell off."

"I thought you just fell." Sam said biting his lip.

"Well I didn't." Dean snapped he turned away from his brother and gathered up a clean pair of boxers and a black t-shirt.

"Dean, are you sure you don't have any broken ribs?" Sam asked as Dean started from the room.

Dean growled a little as he yanked open the door. "Don't you think I would've checked that myself, Sam? They're not broken, maybe cracked a little. I was gonna wrap them before I turned in but you barged in."

Sam frowned. "Why didn't you just tell me."

"Because it's nothing." Dean said sharply, then he turned away and walked out of the room slamming it behind him.

Sam sat back down on his bed, glaring at his knees. He hadn't seen Dean's accident, but he had had no idea that Dean had been stepped on. Sam worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he listened to Dean's shower noises. He knew Dean would need help to wrap his ribs when he was done. So he undressed and changed into his cotton sweats and a loose gray t-shirt and waited. He picked up the gun Dean had been cleaning and began to clean it idly while he waited. He wasn't quite as fast as Dean was, but he was close. He knew each part by heart and how to clean it to keep it in good working condition.

John had always drilled into them that a dirty weapon was a dangerous one. He'd always taught them the importance of knowing their guns inside and out. Sam finished one and picked up another. He was on his fourth gun when he looked at the clock.

Dean had been in the bathroom for nearly twenty minutes, the water was still running. Sam was used to Dean taking long showers, especially when Dean was sore. Dean would let the hot water soothe the ache. Sam went back to cleaning.

When he'd cleaned the last gun and packed it back in their duffel he began to get worried. The water was still going and he was sure, that even with this place that the hot water wouldn't have lasted this long. He opened the bedroom door softly and peered out.

The bathroom door was shut and steam was curling up from underneath the door. Sam went over and knocked. "Dean?"

There was no answer. Sam knocked again, louder this time and more urgently. "Dean! You ok?"

Again there was no answer.

Hoping that he wasn't going to barge in on his brother during a very private moment, Sam twisted the knob and found it unlocked. He poked his head in and looked around cautiously. The shower curtain was open, the water hitting the basin of the empty tub loudly as it fell. Billows of steam hit Sam in the face and he fought to suck in the air around the moisture. He blinked, then narrowed his eyes and finally saw his brother.

Dean was sitting on the toilet lid in his boxers, his head slightly slumped and his body tilted to the side. Sam hurried forward. "Dean?"

Dean opened his eyes wearily, and blinked at his brother in confusion. "Sammy?"

"Come on, let's get you outta here." Sam said. He straightened up and turned off the water then he grabbed Dean's arm on his uninjured side and gently pulled him up. Dean groaned and his head swayed onto Sam's shoulder.

Sam stumbled a little under Dean's weight, but pulled Dean's arm around his shoulders a little more firmly and began to walk to the bedroom, Dean's feet dragged a little as he walked beside him.

Sam lowered Dean onto his bed then retrieved the first aid kit and gently began to bind up Dean's ribs, making it as tight as he could to keep them firmly in place. Dean didn't object. He sat there with a glassy-eyed stare and only moved when Sam shoved a couple of painkillers under his nose. Dean accepted them and tossed them into his mouth, swallowing them dry. Sam gently eased his brother onto his back and pulled the extra blanket up around him.

Dean's unfocused eyes followed him as he walked across the room to turn off the light. Then Sam shuffled back to his own bed and collapsed on it. He listened to Dean's uneven breathing, and knew even with the painkillers that Dean was hurting. He waited until Dean's breathing evened out into sleep, then he closed his own eyes and allowed himself to drift.

The clinging of the dinner bell awoke them both before the sun had even come up. Dean groaned and pulled his pillow over his head but Sam turned and slowly sat up, planting his feet on the floor as he blinked groggily at his brother. Dean didn't move. A quick glance at the clock told him it was quarter after five. Sam groaned quietly himself as he reached for a clean pair of jeans and a shirt.

He dressed in the darkness then padded to his brother's bed. "Dean?"

Dean didn't answer him.

"Dean?" Sam inquired again as he gently placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean grunted at him. "You want me to bring you something?"

Dean grunted again.

Sam tugged the loose blanket a little tighter around Dean's shoulders then left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He knew that Dean was bound to be sore after his accident the day before, he also knew Dean hadn't slept well because every time Dean had turned onto his injured side during the night he'd woken with a gasp, which in turn had woken Sam.

Sam had watched as Dean had gingerly touched his injured side then rolled away from Sam and had forced himself back to sleep. He'd only taken extra painkillers once around three that morning but even then his labored breathing hadn't evened out until well past four. So Sam let him sleep, he'd bring him breakfast and check on him later.

Sam yawned as he stepped up the back stairs to the main house and let himself in the back door. He'd do more research on local legends after their morning chores then see if Dean was up to checking out the trails tonight.

"Good morning, Sam." Jean greeted him with a warm smile as he stepped into the dining room. The long rectangular table was set for six places and the table seemed to be groaning under the weight of the food. Sam was sure that Dean wouldn't have liked to have missed this if he'd seen it.

Pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, sausage, hash browns, scrambled and fried eggs, ham steaks, blueberry muffins, oatmeal with cream and sugar, homemade biscuits, orange juice, milk and fresh coffee. Sam's stomach growled quietly.

"Where's Dean?" Jean asked glancing out the side window to see if she could see Dean on his way.

"He's still in bed, Jean." Sam said taking a seat and pouring himself a cup of coffee. He reached for saucer of cream and the bowl of sugar pouring a little in and stirring it with his spoon. "Turns out his fall was worse than he let on yesterday. Ranger stepped on him when he fell. He's got a few cracked ribs."

Jean's brows pulled together with worry. "Is he ok? Should we take him to the hospital?"

"No, he'll be ok. He's had cracked ribs before."

"Would he like a plate?" Jean asked as she gestured to the table. "I'd be happy to fix one for him."

"That'd be great thanks." Sam said. He helped himself to some of the pancakes, scrambled eggs and biscuits. "So what do we do after breakfast?"

"Well," Jean said as she poured some of the syrup into a small container and piled some pancakes onto a plate. "Randy and Jesse have already fed and watered the horses. So just a muck out for now. Then you can go for a ride if you want later."

Sam nodded as he gulped at his hot coffee.

"Would Dean like bacon or sausage?" Jean asked.

"Dean likes everything," Sam said easily as he helped himself to another biscuit. Just then two other guests walked in red-eyed and frumpy looking. Two giggling teenage girls followed them. They'd arrived late yesterday afternoon and had been dubbed "the gigglers" they'd giggled all the way through dinner much to Dean's annoyance. Sam had heard him grumbling something about giggle boxes.

"Well that makes it simple," Jean said as she loaded some of both onto Dean's plate. "Go ahead and grab a seat, help yourself to anything you'd like." She told the other guests. She added a few biscuits and scrambled eggs to Dean's plate then wrapped some tinfoil over it and set it down by Sam's plate. "Let me know if he needs anything."

Sam nodded and thanked her. Then he finished the last bite of pancake and scrambled eggs.

"Would your brother like some coffee or juice or something? I think I might have something in the kitchen that you could take it out to him in."

"Coffee would be great." Sam said he picked up Dean's plate and toyed with the tinfoil while he waited.

"And did you see the part where that guy's head just rolled right off and spun around. I've never been so scared in my life." One of the giggly girls said nervously. She had long brown hair that she kept pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her friend giggled quietly beside her as she pour herself some orange juice.

"I can't believe you made us watch that last night, Andrea." She whispered then giggled again. "I couldn't sleep I must have been up half the night."

Andrea grinned at her friend. "You need to lighten up, Kari, you made it out to be so much scarier than it was. I didn't even jump once." She stabbed her fork into her pancakes.

Kari flipped her blond hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. "It was your idea to watch the stupid movie. And what was with all that scribbling on the cover?"

"Probably just some stupid kid coloring, you are so paranoid." Andrea said almost rudely.

"Well it freaked me out a little. You heard about that girl who was found by the creek out here. What if..." Kari trailed off as she frowned at her scrambled eggs.

Andrea huffed impatiently. "Kari, you are so dumb. The headless horseman doesn't exist."

"Here you go, Sam." Jean said as she walked out of the kitchen holding a large thermos. "That'll keep it warm for him."

"Thank you," Sam said with a weak grin then he turned from Kari and Lisa and the older couple that looked as if they'd prefer to still be in bed and walked out the door to check on his brother.

"Dean?" Sam asked quietly as he poked his head into the still dark bedroom.

"Hmm?" Dean answered.

Sam flipped on the bedroom light and was surprised to see Dean sitting against his headboard, his head leaned back and his eyes closed. "I brought you some food."

Dean opened his eyes and slowly pulled his head up. Sam could see the pain lines creasing Dean's brow and around the corners of his mouth and he frowned. "Did you take some more painkillers?"

"Just took some." Dean grumbled.

Sam sat down next to Dean's hip and handed his brother the plate and thermos of coffee. Dean pulled back the tinfoil and his eyes widened in surprise and delight.

"Jean put as much on the plate as she could." Sam said as Dean accepted the fork Sam held out to him, then he opened the small container of syrup and poured it over his pancakes. The brown sugary liquid slid of the flat cakes and drenched everything else on the plate. Dean helped himself to the pancakes and eggs.

"I'm gonna go do the morning muck out and I'll be back." Sam said as he watched Dean devour half of the pancakes in a few quick bites.

Dean speared a sausage on the prongs of his fork and bit of the end. "Any new leads?"

"I'm gonna do some more research on it when I get back."

Dean nodded then shoved the rest of the sausage into his mouth.

"I'll be back." Sam said with a grin. If Dean's appetite was this healthy he knew there was nothing seriously wrong with his brother.

"Hey there," A tall well tanned man greeted Sam as he stepped into the shadowed stable. His hair was black but sprinkled with a few gray strands. He had a shaggy beard a mustache that hid most of his mouth and a tan cowboy hat that matched Jean's. His light brown eyes were friendly and he smiled welcoming at Sam. "I'm Jean's husband Randy." He held out an extended hand.

"Sam." Sam said with a warm smile of his own as he shook Randy's hand.

"Nice to meetcha, Sam. You here to do your muck out?"

"Yeah, and my brother's too."

"Where's your brother?" Randy asked.

"He's in the cabin. He fell off his horse yesterday and was stepped on. I didn't find out until last night."

Randy frowned. "We won't make you do a double mucking, Sam. My son Stephen can do that one. Which horse is your brother riding?"

"Ranger."

"Ranger, he's a good one. Well we'll clean his stall out for ya today."

"Thank you." Sam said gratefully, he hadn't been looking forward to cleaning both stalls.

"No problem. Now then, Sam, have you ever mucked out before?"

"Never." Sam admitted.

"No problem, lots of people who come here are first timers. We'll tell you how to do it." Randy said as he patted Sam's shoulder. Then he pushed his cowboy hat a little bit further back on his head. "Now which horse are you riding?"

"Ebony."

"Right then, I'll show you where we keep the cleaning tools and extra shavings first shall I?" Randy clapped his hands together and grinned. Sam wondered how anyone could be so enthusiastic about a chore like this.

Randy led the way outside to a small shed just outside the stable. Inside were several pitchforks, shovels, push brooms, and wheelbarrows. And around the backside of the stable under an overhang well protected from the elements was a large pile of shavings.

"Alrighty then," Randy said as he placed a pitchfork and a push broom into the wheelbarrow and gestured for Sam to take the handle bars.

Sam lifted the wheelbarrow onto its front wheel and followed Randy to Ebony's stall.

"Now the first thing," Randy instructed as he removed Ebony's halter from the door. "Is to take Ebony out and tie her in the cross ties." He let himself into Ebony's stall and slid on her halter. Ebony closed her eyes lazily as he rubbed her nose. Then he lead the horse out of her stall and around the corner to the cross ties. He was only gone a few minutes before he returned.

"Now," Randy continued, "we remove anything that could be contaminated while we are cleaning so take out the water bucket and manger, that's it. Good."

Sam was surprised by how heavy the water bucket was. His muscles bulged and he could feel a vein popping out on his forehead as he lifted the bucket. He was very relieved when he set it outside of the stall. Then he removed the manager and set it outside the stall as well.

"Ok, now you want to remove all the bigger pieces that you can see with the pitchfork and place them in the wheelbarrow here."

Sam lifted the pitchfork and push broom from the wheelbarrow, he set the broom aside and stepped into the stall. There were only two or three piles he could see on the surface and he felt a little relieved. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to muck out after all. He slid the tip of the pitchfork under the piles and put them into the wheelbarrow.

"Great, now you want to move all the shavings to the side of the stall so it shakes loose any other droppings that might have been buried underneath." Randy said.

"All of it?" Sam asked looking at the millions of tiny shavings on the stall floor.

"Yep," Randy confirmed. "And also put any wet shavings into the wheelbarrow."

Sam slid the pitchfork underneath some of the soiled shavings and tossed them into the wheelbarrow, then he dutifully tossed the dry shavings to one side of the stall, a few droppings fell out. Sam scooped them up and put them in the wheelbarrow. Then he picked up another pile and repeated the process until all the shavings were to one side and he was sure that all the manure was in the wheelbarrow.

"Ok now take your push broom and sweep the floor." Randy instructed from the stall door.

Sam set the pitchfork aside and picked up the push broom. He began from the far corner and began to sweep out the stall with quick sweeps. Bits of dust and stray shavings flew into the air that made him cough. He worked his way from one end of the stall to the other pushing all the dirt out of the stall and into the aisle.

"Good work." Randy said admiringly as Sam swept out the last little bit. "Now go ahead and lay out the bed with the shavings.

Sam worked quickly to spread out the shavings again. He found he didn't quite have enough to cover the whole floor properly.

"Looks like we'll need some more shavings." Randy said he gestured for Sam to lay the pitchfork against the side of the stall and to grab the handlebars of the wheelbarrow again. Sam did and followed Randy out of the stable, pushing the heavy wheelbarrow in front of him. Randy lead him to the manure pile and Sam deposited his load onto it. Then they rinsed out the wheelbarrow and dried it before returning to the clean shavings and loading a few shovel loads into it. Then Sam and Randy returned to Ebony's stall and Sam spread out the new shavings.

"That should do it. Now just put the manger and the water bucket back inside and take the wheelbarrow and the pitchfork and broom back to the shed and you're done. Any questions?"

Sam shook his head and mopped at his brow. He was coated in a thin layer of sweat and his arm muscles ached, his back ached from having to bend over and pick up load after load on the pitchfork, his left hand had a blister on its middle finger and a second blister had already popped on his left thumb.

"Alright, we'll see you later then." Randy nodded at him then turned away. Sam hauled the heavy water bucket back into the stall then reattached the manger in the corner. Afterward he went and collected Ebony from the cross ties. She followed him quietly, her eye half closed as she watched him. Sam took her into the clean stall and removed her harness. Ebony looked around the clean stall, lifted her head and whinnied. Then she thanked him by depositing a fresh load onto the clean shavings.

Sam groaned and left the stall. He was secretly glad that Stephen was going to clean Ranger's stall today. Sam wasn't in the mood to clean a second stall right now. He just wanted a hot shower. So he slowly picked up the cleaning tools and pushed the wheelbarrow back to the outside shed.

As Sam left the stable he saw Kari and Angela exiting their cabin, it was cabin number five. Something seemed to pull at him and he felt the strangest inkling to check out their cabin. He knew that Dean would tease him about searching through underwear drawers and being a pervert, but this was something else. Quickening his stride Sam walked past his own cabin and glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking. No one was around and the curtains were still drawn in the main house. Sam walked casually up cabin five's steps and tried the knob. It was unlocked.

Sam let himself in and shut the door quietly behind him. The layout was much the same as their cabin was. Sam began to look around to see if he could find what was making his skin tingle. He had good hunter instincts and knew that something in here wasn't right. As he neared the TV the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. A lone DVD case sat on the TV, but the title was almost impossible to make out. It had black writing and symbols all over it. Sam popped open the DVD player and removed the disc from inside. He placed it inside the DVD case then slipped the DVD under his shirt and hurried to the door. He cracked it open, and when the coast was clear he hurried out.

It only took him a minute to get to their own cabin, and he was relieved to see Dean was up. Dean had showered and was dressed, his hair in its usual untidy spikes.

Dean grinned when he saw him. "Dude, you've got shavings in your hair."

Sam rumpled his hair and a few small pieces of shaving fell onto the floor. Sam ignored them as he hurried to his brother and practically threw the DVD at him. "Look at this."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at the DVD case. Then he looked up at Sam incredulously. "Sleepy Hollow?"

Sam waved him off. "Do you recognize the symbols?"

Dean studied the symbols carefully then shook his head. "Just looks like a bunch of weird symbols to me, Sam."

Sam frowned. "They've gotta mean something don't they?"

Dean shrugged. "What you're saying the DVD's cursed?"

"Maybe, and maybe whoever watches it is the next who gets their heads cut off."

"Sam, that's stupid there's no such thing as a cursed movie." Dean said impatiently. He tossed the DVD back at Sam, who caught it, then tossed it onto the loveseat.

"I think it is, Dean. There are cursed objects that kill people. The last person to touch it, the last person to own it..."

"The last person to watch it?" Dean snapped sarcastically.

"Ok, it's a long shot. And maybe I'm just grasping at straws here. But Dean this is pretty strange."

"Strange or not, Sam, it's just a movie. How could the headless horseman come out of the DVD?"

Sam sighed and sat on the arm of the loveseat. "I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with the symbols."

"Sam..." Dean began but Sam waved him off again.

"Dean, we know anything is possible. The tulpa down in Texas? That came to life with the right symbols and with enough people believing in him."

"Sam, that was something that was based on a real person though. Some stupid kids just made up a dumb story about him, and then some idiots posted it on a website. And if you don't recall that little move nearly got us killed." Dean snarled.

Sam huffed impatiently. As if he could ever forget Harry and Ed, the two morons that were so determined to get a book and movie deal.

"Besides," Dean continued, "didn't you say that the headless horseman is just an old wives tale. He was invented from someone's imagination, not from a real person."

"But, Dean, Bloody Mary was just a made up character too. But it turned out that there was a real Bloody Mary in the world after all. What if there is a real headless horseman as well? Someone who died bloody and someone unknowingly released him?"

Dean's eyes widened in shock. "Go see what you can find out about the symbols. I'm gonna call Bobby."