I don't know what in hell this is. It sucks. I just felt like I should put it up as a substitute, as I'm failing greatly to complete my other half-finished stories.
Kili was freezing. Even in his sleep he was freezing, despite clutching the tattered blanket he had been thrown at his first entrance, tight to his chest. The thin fabric smelt faintly of burning and blood. Even his dreams were cold. The bread and juice and playful fighting with his brother that usually warmed his unconscious mind were obscured by a thick, hard sheet of white cold; offering no protection. He dreamt of ice and grey, scowling skies and the tortured cries that echoed off the frosted brick walls. He opened his eyes and looked around him with half-open eyes, staring at his plain prison.
The cell that they had thrown him in was worse than the darkest parts of the forest near his old home, where creatures and monstrous men alike lurked behind broken trees. They had let him free apart from a small chain linking his wrists to a clasp embedded in the brick, binding his hands together so tight that they had become red and raw in minutes. The ground was damp, rain water dripping from worn holes in the ceiling. Kili feared it would shudder and collapse at any moment. The concrete beneath his body was cold and hard, some areas soft with growing moss. He found it difficult to breathe in the wet, humid cave.
Sitting up and shaking his arms to again try and loosen the tight hold around his wrists, Kili shivered and took in a deep breath. The air was thick with ice and the stench of blood and he gagged, coughing into his hand. The cold was almost unbearable. His head felt heavy and misty, his vision bouncing along with the spots of light darting around the cell from a small, barred opening in the ceiling.
They threw him food from there. They wanted to keep him alive. What were they going to do with him?
Feeling his consciousness begin to slip away again, Kili closed his eyes and prayed, his lips moving silently to the words. When sleep stole him, he dreamt again of cold and torture, screams filling his ears and a hole punched in his chest. He saw so much red; red water and red pools of it. Shimmering red pools of dark blood, creeping up along the ground to touch at his feet. He pulled his knees up around his chin and the pool rose into the air, twisting and bending until it looked like a man. There was a defined nose and scarlet lips and eyes that looked like Hell was within them. The red man reached out to him and Kili backed further into the wall, throwing his bound hands before him to block its fingers. But the stringy crimson claws had sunk deep into his chest before he could do a thing, and it was whispering his name over and over.
The pointed tip of its nose became rounded and longer, the lips softening and blonde hairs sprouting above them. His brother's expressionless face peered down at him curled against the wall. Kili felt a surge of relief, his brother being the one person he wanted to see more than anyone else in the world. He smiled at Fili; a watery smile, bloody at the corners.
Fili continued after the red man, whispering again and again, louder with every beat. Kili shrunk back at the fierceness of his brother's voice.
And then, on the twentieth time of growling his name through gritted teeth, he stopped, and the fingers curled to a fist within Kili's chest.
And Kili's heart stood still.