Bewitched {ON HOLD}

3 - A Stranger

Ichabod clutched tightly onto his leather satchel, doubt beginning to surface his mind the more he observed the grim town's bleakness before him. An eerie name being Sleepy Hollow seemed fitting for the town he had found himself walking through in mere seconds.

The sound of his coach leaving echoed across the pavements, and it finally crossed him that there would be no turning back at this point. He walked on, passing an ominous church and graveyard, looking as village commoners shut their windows or backed away into their homes in fright as if to retreat from the outdoor's ghostliness.

It wasn't until Ichabod noticed the dead ravens hung by twine, gunmen seated at vantage points around the village and the cawing of crows, that he slightly feared for his life.

You're not going to die. Pull yourself together. He scolded himself. Don't be absurd, you won't die. 

As if the town was attempting to contradict him, Ichabod felt a blunt collision into his chest and a sharp pain harrowed upon him. With a deafening thud, his head hit the ground and the sound of his leather satchel opening, emptying the contents of his equipment and the piercing shattering it had against the hard pavement, rung in his ears.

Ichabod lay in the ground wide-eyed as darkness began to turn into a blinding light. "You see? I just died." He said to himself.

Ichabod blinked rapidly as he comprehended what just happened. The blinding light was only the whiteness of the clouds in the sky and he lay completely conscious. He heard a groan of pain, but it wasn't coming from him. In the corner of his eye, he spotted a woman equally victim to the collision, face down on the ground.

"P-Pardon, miss. I'm terribly - ah!" He flinched in pain as he tried to get up. "- sorry."

Evangeline struggled as she stood up from the ground, but not so much as the stammering gentleman poorly sprawled out on the ground before her. "Are you alright?" She asked, stifling an amused grin as she witnessed the gentlemen shut his eyes in pain and feel around for his surroundings.

The fury she was drowned in mere moments earlier, were immediately escaped from her mind as she stared at the stranger with intrigue. He certainly wasn't from around here as his aristocratic getup had suggested as well as the strange contraptions that fell from his satchel. A man from the city, she had presumed.

Ichabod's once kept hair was now dangling in front of his face, blocking his sight from everything. He could no longer respond the girl as his words were caught in his throat, seeing before him all his scientific equipment broken to pieces and now almost unrecognisable. 

A high-pitched sound came out seeming to be in between a whimper and a gasp. "N-No!" He clamoured.

Evangeline gave a pitying tut as she observed him, and a slight snigger escaped her despite her attempt to suppress it. She instantly planted her hand over her mouth to contain her levity.

Ichabod didn't look up to the girl who seemed to  mock him as he simply mournfully stared at the broken pieces. "I'm glad my misery amuses you." He attempted to sternly chide, but his distressed state only made his voice sound in high squeaks.

Evangeline sighed, admittedly feeling guilty. With a wave of her hand, she focused on the equipment and soon the shattered pieces before the strange man had collected themselves and returned themselves whole again. 

Ichabod stumbled back from the once messy spot, wide-eyed in disbelief, as the equipment assembled itself accordingly, returning to their places in their case and organising itself back into the leather satchel. His equipment were not only fixed, but his satchel was more in order than how he had packed it. All by the hand of - no, not by any hand of anyone for that matter.