A/R (author's rants): Hello again! Its time for another of my obscure super short one-shot stories! Once again, this is from a totally random idea I came up with at three in the morning while watching, what else, the Return of the King.

The Way is Shut

The Road to the Dimholt. Only the bravest go there. Only the foolhardy. What is the difference? I have been called both, though the latter is probably a more suitable description for me. I am a fool, a coward.

That is why they sent me here, to prove that I am not so cowardly. That is why I came, to see if I could indeed return.

The Road is cold, quite. My horse stirs uncomfortably in the chill breeze that sweeps the valley where the road lies. My footsteps and that of my horse resonate eerily within the canyon. Fear begins to dwell in the back of my mind, not completely over taking me, but following, like an ever-present shadow. My heat quickens and I swallow hard. I will not turn around. I cannot. I am not a coward. I refuse to prove my comrades and my father correct.

There is a door ahead. Skulls surround it, runes written in an ancient tongue I cannot read decorate its walls. Dark and menacing, it looms over my head, daring me inside. A chill gust of wind nearly knocks me to the ground. My horse panics and flees. My courage shall not fail. I will not allow it.

I venture inside. The passageway reminds me of the caves in the hills back at home. Dark, damp, derelict, empty. It isn't so horrible. A single torch hangs on the wall where must have been hung so many centuries ago. I dig about in my pocket for flint. With some effort, I light the torch. A warm, cheerful glow illuminates the passage. The merrily burning flame feels out of place, eerie in the never-ending stretch of gloom.

Down I travel, through the winding tunnel, ever deeper into the mountain. My courage begins to leave me once again. Fear creeps back into my heart. I long to turn around, to flee, run back. But I have not reached the city. My own curiosity drives out much of the doubt. I want to reach the main cavern.

And suddenly, I'm there. I stumble out into the open space of a cavernous hall. At one time, it must have been a great hall of a king, I think. Out of the gloom, a figure approaches me. I freeze. The grows colder. My heart beats so rapidly, I'm sure the figure can hear it. A man, the figure is a man. No, a shadow of a man. He is armored and his weapon raised.

"The way is shut . . ." A rasping voice cackles as the world dissolves into blackness.