And there he stood upon a hill, atop a fearsome stead, his towering figure silhouetted against the night sky. His cloak sat loosely at his shoulders, whipping in the breeze with abandon for his severed head lay at his side. With a fierce cry and a thunderous gallop he would stalking the countryside, riding down the darkened lanes and paths, and should he stop to call your name, the horseman would surely be your demise.