Wow. Okay my lovelies. This is my very first fanfiction, try not to hang me by my toes or feed me to the eels, okay? (L. Snicket throwback!) I was inspired by many more brilliant fanfic writers: who have either crushed my soul into oblivion and tossed the remains into the sun or made my eyes dry into craisins (I abhor raisins) and have my feels go into extreme hibernation. Either choice is very good and recommended. *Rubs hands together* Let's do this! Enjoy!

Tolkien's masterpiece not mine,all rights to him. Aria is my baby though.

Chapter 1- Fundamentals of Being Clumsy and a Terrible Swimmer

I never in my wildest dreams expected to end up in Middle Earth or as the locals keep reminding me Arda. Insert eyeroll, please. I mean as a recent fangirl of the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings trilogy I knew my expectations were going to be major in the ways of the land and travel. Ugh, remind me to tell Thorin about the wonders of the bicycle. The only transport I know how to build, I mean come on me? Build a car? I am sooo not Tony Stark.

Anyways, as I was saying ending up in Middle Earth wasn't my idea. You have to ask Gandalf that, he told me all about how it was my destiny and all this talk about the Valar choosing me to save the line of Durin. Okay, okay, okay it was more of "Miss Aria *strokes beard, Gandalf is such a diva* I do not know why the Valar has graced us with your presence though I am quite sure there is a reason you are here. Now please stop bombarding me with odd questions of the going price of Kingsfoil." Then he huffed and walked away, leaving me gagging on the smoke of his oh-so-precious-smoke-ring.

Let me start by telling you how I came to be known as the Walker in the Stars. Don't laugh the hobbits gave me that name.

May 4 2014

3:30 AM

I've never been able to sleep, the doctors called it a case of extreme insomnia. So choosing instead to lay around re-reading books I've read a thousand times or doing crazy experiments inside my tiny one bedroom apartment, I decided to go for walks around the park. I know, pretty crazy shit happens when the sun goes down and not necessarily for the better.

My birthday so happens to be today, I will be 24 years old in approximately an hour and a half. I'm not much of a celebratory person, I never got the whole idea of holidays or birthdays. It's mostly because I've never truly had a family or even the emotions to convey my acceptance of a gift. If I ever received one, of course. Gathering my usual gear and attire for my daily walk, I inspect my bag.

As usual I always carry my red Osprey backpack filled with: a first aid kit, two pocket knives, my little journal where I jot down random ideas, my sketch book, lots of sharpies, candy and craisins (I love those suckers), pocket microscope, rope, and multiple gadgets. I'm surprised my back held up this long. My mom once told me of this story where a woman's car broke down in the middle of nowhere and she didn't have any emergency gear. So she ended up surviving by drinking leaf water (how refreshing, not really, I mean only 4 drops per leaf?) and eating bugs until the rescue services arrived 4 days later. Thus my OCD of always carrying my bag everywhere I go. As I was locking up my phone started to buzz.

"Hello?" No answer. "Sean if this is you I am soo going to spill soda all over your keyboard and eat all your Hotpockets," I say with a grin.

"GAH!NOO! Okay it's me babydoll. I give, Uncle, you win, have mercy. All I ask is that you bury me with my hard drives and a nice pepperoni pie. Happy Birthday my most beautiful and clumsy friend!," said the lanky somewhat taller version of Q from the Daniel Craig (drools) Bond movies.

"Ha-haha-aha, thanks Sean I appreciate it, you're the only one to do so for the last 17 years. So what gives with the early bird call I was just on my way out?" I say walking down the 20 billion flights of dilapidated stairs with a Hotpocket in hand. Gods I need to get a gym card or maybe not, eww germs.

"What? Out in this time of day? Dude have you not heard the news? It's been all over the T.V., the web, the blogs, the forums, the pa-" I cut him off, "Slow down there papi. What news?" I admit to not being very fond of watching the news, I rather prefer to watch cartoons and Cinemax, err for Strikeback ya know?

"There's a guy running around town who escaped from the hospital, apparently he's wanted for 7 murders. Dude, he totally slashed and ate them. So far police think he's hiding out in the park near you," Sean sounded really worried, he never has any other emotion besides hyperactive or starving.

"Umm…Sean you did say this park right? As in the one I'm standing in?" I ask stopping in the middle of the gravel pathway halfway through the park, choking down a piping hot piece of cheese. I am a pretty fast walker, but ask me to run I'll choose to lie down. Horizontal running, coach!

All quite on his end, I mean if a serial cannibal killer dude is all it takes to shut him up it's my royal flush! My metaphors don't make sense but then again I never do.

"Dude, I'm serious. I'm headed over right now. Get back to your apartment and lock the doors. Be careful and watch where you're going," he warns me with the tone of an older brother. Sean has been my best friend ever since I could remember our mutual love of action movies and Hotpockets. Hence, his job as a security programmer for businesses, hello Hotpocket money! Yes, even in the midst of terrifying danger I declare my love for the delectable bundles of cheesy pepperoni goodness.

"Okay…hmm...well…I guess I'd better head back. Don't waste my minutes by yapping at my clumsiness," I say backtracking my way home. "And make me another cheesy bundle from the Heavens."

So far the sky has still remained the ever dark blue shade that Van Gogh said in Doctor Who. The lights in the park were converted to solar a while back, but some eco-freaks who were too cheap to buy solar, stole them; nothing against eco savvy people, just the cheap ones. Leaving dark patches free to the evils of the world. Which mostly consist of the occasional homeless man, who by all means isn't evil at all. I even share my Hotpockets with them!

Trekking through said Dark Patch of Evil I catch a glimpse of someone lying over someone else. Is that what I think it is? Eww! Get a room! I mentally delete the last 2 minutes. Edging closer to the Patch of Doom Take Two the little light given off by the brightest of the bright stars shows me that what I thought was a randy couple in heat, was actually the serial cannibal killer dude! Gasping a bit loud, I blame my childhood asthma, he turns around to stare and me. Freezing in place, trying to catch my breath , I shift my weight to my left foot. Lefty for life! His eyes burn a hole straight through me, still shifting my weight preparing to sprint for my life, his head starts to oscillate like a snake's does. He stops and gives me the chilliest, most dead grin I have ever received in my life (apart from my 3rd grade teacher). Right then I decide to book it through the shortcut I learned from all my romps through the park. I regrettably toss my Hotpocket to the side. Hanging a right that leads down to the bridge over the river, I run as fast as I can, not yet reveling in the idea that I'm actually running pretty good for a lazy person whose idea of exercise is lifting Hotpockets and using the stairs instead of the lift. Thinking my birthday couldn't get any worse, I trip over my own feet! Scrambling up, I realize I'm about 30 feet from the bridge I glance back to see if he was still behind me, scanning in the dark does nothing for my poor heart, so I turn my head trying to catch any sound of crunching leaves and sticks. All I hear is my rapid heartbeat in staccato. I think I should get it checked. "Now is not the time Aria!" I scold myself.

I give one last glance before I make it over to the bridge, gasping for breath I don't notice a shadow looming towards me.

"Well, this is a nice surprise if I do say so myself," said a raspy somewhat elegant voice.

Freezing, I look behind me, not 5 feet away is the serial cannibal killer dude. My phone decides to buzz and let out the Sherlock theme song. I let it go to voicemail. It rings again, demanding my attention like a 5 year old. The S.C.K.D. nods his head toward my phone, allowing me one last call before he devours my beautiful flesh and makes an Aria soufflé out of me. (I am fond of being overdramatic and silly in serious situations.) Time feels like it slowed down, I take these extra seconds to look at my ending. The S.C.K.D. is fair-haired, soft curly hair marred with mud and old blood, at least 5'11, pale skin with dead blue eyes, and a crappy U2 t-shirt and a pair of plaid shorts. Not what I pictured as my Angel of Death, more like creepy cousin from the basement, but losers can't be choosers. However that goes, I don't care.

I grab my phone from my pocket and answer in a shaky voice, "hhh-hello?"

"Aria!Aria? Are you okay? You sound weird, what's going on? I'm at your place, I thought you'd beat me here," Sean says warily, his spidey-senses are probably off the charts now.

Taking a calming breath, I try to sound normal, "I'm fine, you know, just having a chat with serial cannibal killer dude. Did you know he likes U2? Too bad he doesn't strike me as a Hotpocket kinda guy, what a shame we could have had a celebratory birthday dinner," I end up screeching like a banshee in the phone. S.C.K.D. just looks at me like I've grown two heads.

Stepping closer, leaving only a foot of space between up, he whispers, "My name is Peter." Grinning like he won the lottery when he hears Sean's string of curses directed at him, he plucks my phone away and tucks it into his pocket. Stroking my hair, he tells me I smell divine.

"It's just the Italian seasonings," I mutter stupidly remembering he eats people. I get an idea, "So if you're a cannibal does that mean you eat the butts?" S.C.K.D. Peter gives me a confused look before I fling myself off the bridge into the cold, raging water. The river is so powerful it drags me under, the last thing I see before I go is the star that brought Peter to me.