The train roared through the night, its wheels clattering like thunder as it cut across the moors of Fableville. Inside one of the dimly lit cars, Lev and the others sat in tense silence. The map had led them here, to their final destination: Sleepy Hollow. Somewhere in its haunted cemetery, the last shard of the axe awaited. But the Huntsman was already moving. Everyone could feel it. Brasco sat in the corner, sharpening his claws against steel bracers, his face shadowed with grief and fury. Rudy Red leaned back with his arms crossed, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the lantern light. Razor and Rowdy muttered to each other quietly, while Hellen sat beside Lev, her hands gripping her staff. Lev studied the map one last time. "The last shard… it's inside the pumpkin head of the Headless Horseman," he said grimly. "And once we get it, the axe will be whole again." The car jolted suddenly, throwing them forward. A deep, guttural laugh echoed outside. Then the screeches came—the sound of massive claws tearing across metal. "Assassins!" Rudy Red snarled. The windows shattered as riders burst into view, mounted not on horses but on monstrous hyenas, their fangs dripping with froth. The Huntsman's assassins, cloaked in black, stormed the train. The car became chaos. Hyenas crashed through the side, splinters flying. One assassin lunged at Lev with twin daggers, but Lev parried and slammed him into the wall. Razor and Rowdy leapt into action, their blades flashing in unison as they carved through another rider. Hellen unleashed a blast of fire, sending two assassins tumbling into the night. Rudy Red's fangs gleamed as he tore a rider clean off his beast and snapped his neck. Brasco roared, ripping one hyena in half with his claws, blood splattering the walls. But the assassins kept coming. The train cars rattled, shaking under the weight of the battle. Lev was knocked onto the roof of the moving train, grappling with a masked assassin as the wind howled. He barely managed to hurl the rider into the darkness before another pounced. One by one, the assassins fell. The last hyena screeched in pain as Brasco drove his claws through its skull. Silence fell across the ruined train car, save for the hiss of wind and the steady clatter of wheels. Lev wiped blood from his lip. "The Huntsman knows where we're going. We don't have much time." By dawn, they arrived at Sleepy Hollow. The town was shrouded in mist, its crooked gravestones and leafless trees stretching like skeletal hands across the cemetery grounds. At the gates stood a lanky figure with nervous eyes and a trembling lantern. "Ichabod Crane, at your service," the man introduced himself, bowing awkwardly. His voice cracked with unease, but there was a strange determination in his tone. "I've been waiting. The Horseman has haunted this ground long enough." He led them through winding rows of graves, where whispers seemed to follow and shadows moved on their own. At the cemetery's heart, the earth shook. The Headless Horseman rose from the fog, mounted on a stallion black as midnight, a flaming pumpkin in his grip where a head should be. His roar split the air as he swung his burning blade. The battle was unlike any before. The Horseman's strikes split tombstones in half. His stallion trampled the earth with thunderous force, scattering the team. Razor and Rowdy darted in, cutting at the beast's legs, while Brasco met the Horseman head-on, claw against steel. Hellen fired bolts of fire into the night, forcing the rider back. Ichabod, surprisingly brave, swung a lantern filled with blessed fire, distracting the Horseman long enough for Lev to charge forward. With a leap, Lev wrenched the flaming pumpkin from the Horseman's grasp. It shattered on the ground, and within its hollow shell gleamed the last shard of the axe. The pieces glowed as Lev pressed them together. Light blazed across the cemetery as the shards fused, reforming into the legendary axe. Its power hummed in his hands, ancient and terrible. Beside it, on the ground, lay a small, unassuming dagger of the same metal. Hellen picked it up, sliding it into her waist. The victory was short-lived. The ground trembled. Shadows tore apart, and from the mist stepped the Huntsman himself. His eyes blazed like fire, his monstrous form towering above them. "That's my axe," he bellowed, his voice shaking the graves. "Give it to me!" He lunged, his strikes nearly tearing Lev in two. The force of each blow sent shockwaves through the cemetery, gravestones exploding around them. Lev fought back desperately, the reforged axe clashing against the Huntsman's blade, but the villain's strength was overwhelming. With one crushing blow, the Huntsman knocked Lev to the ground. The axe clattered from his grasp. The Huntsman raised his weapon for the killing strike "No!" Hellen screamed. Before anyone could stop her, she rushed forward and drove the small dagger into the Huntsman's back. His body convulsed, his breath ragged. "How…" he gasped, his monstrous form trembling. "How is this possible?" Hellen's eyes burned with fury. "Because my grandmother… was Red Riding Hood." With all her strength, she shoved the dagger deeper into his spine. The Huntsman roared in agony, falling to his knees. Lev surged forward, reclaiming the axe. "For Fableville," Lev growled, and with one mighty swing, he struck the Huntsman's head clean from his shoulders. The body collapsed, lifeless. Lev poured fire across it, burning it to ashes until nothing remained. Above, the Huntsman's bat creature shrieked in sorrow, circling the sky before vanishing into the night. It was over. The team returned to Lycan Manor with heavy hearts. The axe was placed deep within their underground safe, alongside relics too dangerous to be left in the open. Lev turned to Brasco. "I'm sorry about the Captain. We lost too many on this quest." Brasco nodded, his eyes still burning with grief. "But we won." Lev looked at Razor, Rowdy, and Rudy Red. "You guys sticking around? There's room here for you." Rowdy smirked. "We've got a feeling you'll be needing us again." For the first time in weeks, laughter filled the manor. They gathered around the oak kitchen table, eating dinner together, not as strangers, but as family.
On the dark side of Fableville, deep within a hidden grove, the witches gathered. A jar sat on their altar, filled with the ashes of the Huntsman. One witch traced her finger across the glass and whispered, "This is not the end. Another leaned in, her voice a hiss. "The Fountain of Life… if we find it, even the Huntsman may rise again." Their laughter carried into the night, as the next shadow of war began to stir.
(The End)