Tower of Cirith Ungol
Chapter one:
Captured
Frodo opened his eyes, wondering as he lay naked on a cold stone surface, where was he? What had happened? Where was Sam? What is this place and how had he gotten there? Nothing, he could remember nothing. His memory seemed to be enveloped in a fog. All Frodo knew was that he was cold, sore and his head hurt. He lifted his hand and reached for his forehead, a sharp pain emanated from under his right arm. Frodo reached over and felt under his arm and discovered a long stinging scourge mark caked in blood. He felt his forehead, he had a large gash over his left eye and a bump on the right side of his head. His lip was swollen and that was bleeding too. What had happened to him? Frodo could remember nothing. As Frodo sat up to survey his surroundings, he became aware of a great pain on his back. A sharp stinging pain much like the one under his arm and he feared there were scourge marks on his back as well. Every muscle in his body was screaming in agony.
Frodo began to look around the room. It was very dark save one red lantern hanging from the ceiling. It was a cold, damp, stark place and there was a revolting stench hanging in the air. The room was round with one small window behind him, high up the wall. It was so dirt-encrusted that no light could penetrate the glass. Frodo could not tell if it was day or night. He Tried to stand but found that his legs were too weak to bear his own weight collapsing back onto the stone surface he looked around, to no avail, for something to cover himself with. He was cold, so very cold. He didn't think he could remember a time he was ever so cold.
Frodo tried desperately to remember the events that brought him to this place, but It seemed impossible to clear the fog that surrounded his memory. What was the last thing he could remember?
***Sam, he had been with Sam. Frodo remembered a long dark tunnel, a foul rancid smell, and they were running. Running from what? He couldn't remember. He knew he had been afraid. He felt the awkward scared tumble of his heartbeat as he ran. Sam was right behind him. He heard Sam yell. "Look out master! I'm." Sam's voice drifted away. Then Frodo heard no more, he felt a sharp stinging pain in his neck. Then rope, a sticky rope enveloped him. He couldn't move his arms and legs. Was he being dragged? Oh this was too much. Suddenly everything became black and his mind faded.***
That was all Frodo could remember. He had a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He feared the worst for Sam. What if Sam was dead? It was so horrible that Frodo didn't even want to think about it. He couldn't, however, shake the awful feeling from his mind and he seemed to know somewhere deep inside his heart that Sam was gone, gone forever and would not be coming for him. Suddenly the tears began to flow, and Frodo lay down on the cold hard stone surface and sobbed uncontrollably.
Frodo roused himself from sleep feeling drained and not at all rested. He sat up and looked around him, he was still in the same place, this dark, dank, dungeon. He wondered again how long he had been there, and who was keeping him. He felt his stomach growl and wondered how long it had been since he had eaten. He stood up, his weak leg muscles quivered but they held his weight and he began to walk around to room to investigate. Walking toward the red lantern he noticed it was almost out of fuel. He stumbled, his legs began to wobble, Frodo reached for something to steady himself grabbing hold of a wall for support. The wall was cold and not at all smooth, its jagged surface bore into Frodo's all to raw right forearm and he winced from the pain of it. He stood for a moment catching his breath, clutching at his breast. His fingers were fumbling for something that wasn't there, something important, something precious to him. What it was he couldn't remember but Frodo couldn't shake the feeling that this object was the reason for his imprisonment.
Frodo began to walk the spherical shaped room, still clutching the wall for support. He noticed there appeared to be no doors in the room, and he wondered where the entrance was. He didn't have to wonder very long. There was a sudden scraping sound and he distinctly heard a bolt being drawn back. Frodo turned and saw a wooden trap door in the floor of the room suddenly fly open and slam against the cold stone floor. It created a thunderous sound, which resonated off the pallid stone walls. Ascending the ladder was a hideous Orc grasping a sword in one hand and a whip in the other. Frodo, terror-stricken instinctively reached for Sting, remembering it wasn't there, began to shrink away, his heart seized in fear! The Orc reached the top rung of the ladder and stepped into the room. A second even more hideous larger Orc entered the room behind the first. Frodo felt his blood rush to his head and felt an intense pressure began to build around his brain. He could see the Orc's mouth moving. He was speaking, saying something. Frodo could not understand him. all Frodo could hear was the vigorous pounding of his heart echoing in his ears!
The Orc slowly began to move toward Frodo, holding something in his hands! Frodo, wild with fear and trembling recoiled against the stone wall! He felt a scream rising within him but it fell dead at his throat, for who would hear him? Who would come to help him now? No one, there was no one left.
Frodo opened his eyes, wondering as he lay naked on a cold stone surface, where was he? What had happened? Where was Sam? What is this place and how had he gotten there? Nothing, he could remember nothing. His memory seemed to be enveloped in a fog. All Frodo knew was that he was cold, sore and his head hurt. He lifted his hand and reached for his forehead, a sharp pain emanated from under his right arm. Frodo reached over and felt under his arm and discovered a long stinging scourge mark caked in blood. He felt his forehead, he had a large gash over his left eye and a bump on the right side of his head. His lip was swollen and that was bleeding too. What had happened to him? Frodo could remember nothing. As Frodo sat up to survey his surroundings, he became aware of a great pain on his back. A sharp stinging pain much like the one under his arm and he feared there were scourge marks on his back as well. Every muscle in his body was screaming in agony.
Frodo began to look around the room. It was very dark save one red lantern hanging from the ceiling. It was a cold, damp, stark place and there was a revolting stench hanging in the air. The room was round with one small window behind him, high up the wall. It was so dirt-encrusted that no light could penetrate the glass. Frodo could not tell if it was day or night. He Tried to stand but found that his legs were too weak to bear his own weight collapsing back onto the stone surface he looked around, to no avail, for something to cover himself with. He was cold, so very cold. He didn't think he could remember a time he was ever so cold.
Frodo tried desperately to remember the events that brought him to this place, but It seemed impossible to clear the fog that surrounded his memory. What was the last thing he could remember?
***Sam, he had been with Sam. Frodo remembered a long dark tunnel, a foul rancid smell, and they were running. Running from what? He couldn't remember. He knew he had been afraid. He felt the awkward scared tumble of his heartbeat as he ran. Sam was right behind him. He heard Sam yell. "Look out master! I'm." Sam's voice drifted away. Then Frodo heard no more, he felt a sharp stinging pain in his neck. Then rope, a sticky rope enveloped him. He couldn't move his arms and legs. Was he being dragged? Oh this was too much. Suddenly everything became black and his mind faded.***
That was all Frodo could remember. He had a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He feared the worst for Sam. What if Sam was dead? It was so horrible that Frodo didn't even want to think about it. He couldn't, however, shake the awful feeling from his mind and he seemed to know somewhere deep inside his heart that Sam was gone, gone forever and would not be coming for him. Suddenly the tears began to flow, and Frodo lay down on the cold hard stone surface and sobbed uncontrollably.
Frodo roused himself from sleep feeling drained and not at all rested. He sat up and looked around him, he was still in the same place, this dark, dank, dungeon. He wondered again how long he had been there, and who was keeping him. He felt his stomach growl and wondered how long it had been since he had eaten. He stood up, his weak leg muscles quivered but they held his weight and he began to walk around to room to investigate. Walking toward the red lantern he noticed it was almost out of fuel. He stumbled, his legs began to wobble, Frodo reached for something to steady himself grabbing hold of a wall for support. The wall was cold and not at all smooth, its jagged surface bore into Frodo's all to raw right forearm and he winced from the pain of it. He stood for a moment catching his breath, clutching at his breast. His fingers were fumbling for something that wasn't there, something important, something precious to him. What it was he couldn't remember but Frodo couldn't shake the feeling that this object was the reason for his imprisonment.
Frodo began to walk the spherical shaped room, still clutching the wall for support. He noticed there appeared to be no doors in the room, and he wondered where the entrance was. He didn't have to wonder very long. There was a sudden scraping sound and he distinctly heard a bolt being drawn back. Frodo turned and saw a wooden trap door in the floor of the room suddenly fly open and slam against the cold stone floor. It created a thunderous sound, which resonated off the pallid stone walls. Ascending the ladder was a hideous Orc grasping a sword in one hand and a whip in the other. Frodo, terror-stricken instinctively reached for Sting, remembering it wasn't there, began to shrink away, his heart seized in fear! The Orc reached the top rung of the ladder and stepped into the room. A second even more hideous larger Orc entered the room behind the first. Frodo felt his blood rush to his head and felt an intense pressure began to build around his brain. He could see the Orc's mouth moving. He was speaking, saying something. Frodo could not understand him. all Frodo could hear was the vigorous pounding of his heart echoing in his ears!
The Orc slowly began to move toward Frodo, holding something in his hands! Frodo, wild with fear and trembling recoiled against the stone wall! He felt a scream rising within him but it fell dead at his throat, for who would hear him? Who would come to help him now? No one, there was no one left.