Summary: Drabbles of the fellowship involving dinners around the campfire. Supposed to read kind of like a creepypasta. Takes place a couple weeks after they leave Rivendell, but it could potentially extend past Return of the King.

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR or any creepypastas you might recognize. For the original pastas, go to the Creepypasta Wikia page, or the original Creepypasta site.

In this case, the original pasta was more or less ghostwritten by a bunch of people, so this chapter is a bit of a Frankenpasta.

It had been a long day for the Fellowship. They had walked from dawn to dusk through particularly difficult terrain and were grateful to have made it safely across. Not long after they had set up camp, a fire had been started and Samwise had pieced together a supper for everyone.

"Let's tell scary stories!" Merry suggested as they ate.

"That sounds fun. Let's do that!" Pippin agreed with a grin.

"Are you sure that's wise, Master Meriadoc?" Gandalf raised an eyebrow. "We don't want anyone to have nightmares, now do we?"

"It's all good fun. They're not even that scary." Pippin's grin temporarily dropped. "Does anybody know any good ones?"

"Legolas probably does." Aragorn spoke up. "Legolas?"

"What?" The elf looked up from his supper.

"I'm betting you know a few good tales. Care to share a few?"

"I don't know that many." A small smile spread across his face. "The few that I do know, I do not think that I could tell properly."

"Don't be makin' any excuses, elf." Gimli said gruffly from across the circle.

"I make no excuses." Legolas put his bowl down. "The tales I know were told to me when I was just a mere elfling and most of the details have passed from my memory."

"Try to remember as much as you can." Aragorn stoked the fire. "Go on."

"I suppose I can try." Legolas scooted closer to the fire and got comfortable. "Which one should I tell?"

"How about the Thin Man?"

"Hm. Good suggestion, Estel." The elf leaned forward and shadows danced eerily over his face. "Now, before I start, is anyone here prone to bad dreams? This may frighten some of you."

"No, we're fine." Frodo said quietly.

"Make with the story!" Pippin clapped his hands together.

"All right, settle down." Legolas held his hands up and waited for everyone to quiet down.

Once there was no sound but the crackling of the fire and the chirping of nearby crickets, he spoke.

"The darkness of Mirkwood is home to many things. Some are harmless. Some are malevolent. Some are of ambiguous intent. However, the tale you are about to hear is of one of the more sinister things one can come across in the dark.

"The topic of the Thin Man's origin has been debated hotly. Nobody knows for sure where he came from, nor how long he has been around. Some say that he is a cursed spirit, doomed to wander the land for all eternity. Others say that he is a demon, as ancient as the Balrog. And some say that he is an agent of Sauron. A spy, if you will.

"Most who see the Thin Man do not live to tell the tale. Those who do are haunted for the rest of their lives." Legolas paused. "Or they die soon after they see him."

"He's good. I have chills." Pippin whispered to Merry.

"Everyone has said different things about the Thin Man." Legolas continued. "But each testimony has one thing in common: all have said that he is very tall, pale, and slender, with unnaturally long limbs and extremities, but lacking a face of any kind. He wears black robes and is normally spotted in dark, wooded areas like Mirkwood. He is seldom seen in broad daylight or in open spaces, but in places he frequents, there are often carvings of circles with x's through them, perhaps to symbolize his facelessness. Many refer to that as the Operator Symbol. On occasion, you can find bits of paper scattered about, and they will bear that symbol, along with warnings to turn back and not pursue him further.

"Those who have seen him say that you can tell when he is near. A chill will pierce the air, and it will seem as though all the warmth in your body has been stolen away. You will begin to feel very paranoid and nauseated. You will experience distortions in your sight and hearing, and your head will begin to ache. And then, before you can run, he will appear." Legolas paused once more for effect and glanced around at the other members of the Fellowship.

"Then what happens?" Frodo asked, wide-eyed.

"Some have said that the Thin Man takes his victims to another dimension and harvests their souls from their bodies to use as his slaves for all of eternity. Others say that he eats them on the spot. Either way, those unfortunate enough to encounter him are almost never seen again."

"How does he catch them?" Merry asked.

"He will appear nearby. If the victim tries to run, he will continue to appear, closer and closer each time, and more frequently. Finally, when he's close enough, he will reach out and grab his victims. His limbs will extend to be able to reach them, and some have said that tentacles will emerge from behind him to ensure that there is no escape."

"Where's he most often seen?" Sam asked.

"He is mostly seen in Mirkwood. But really, he could be anywhere." Legolas lowered his voice. "Perhaps he is here with us right now."

A wolf howled in the distance, startling the hobbits.

"You won't suspect a thing. No, no… You won't know what's coming to you..." Legolas stood and walked silently until he was standing behind Aragorn. "UNTIL HE GETS YOU!" He grabbed the ranger around the shoulders, startling him.

"ACK!" Aragorn let out a yell and fell backwards onto the elf. "You son of a…!" He turned, got him into a headlock, and ground out several words in Elvish. Frodo identified them as curse words.

"Get off me." Legolas chuckled and the ranger loosened his grip.

"Don't ever do that to me again. My heart nearly stopped."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't resist." The elf didn't look the least bit sorry.

"If you do that again, I might have to hurt you."

"You won't."

They began to playfully swat at each other.

"Calm down, you two." Gandalf pulled the two friends apart. "You're acting like children."

"He started it."

"You wanted to hear the story." Legolas sat down and picked up his bowl. "I'm just doing what everybody wanted." He began to eat.

"That was scary." Pippin commented. "I'm not gonna sleep tonight."

"Then why did you suggest telling horror stories?" Frodo asked.

"It sounded like a good idea at the time."

"Pippin…"

"Yeah?"

"You're an idiot."

Creepypastas are fun.

Slenderman in Sindarin is translated as "Fim Abonnen", if you're badly translating it like I am. Fun fact!