Title: Running
Author: WedgeAntilles1, or whatever I may of changed my name to at this point
Summary: The (hopefully) long-awaited sequel to The Wraiths.
A/N: Yes, this is the sequel that I told you was coming, then told you wasn't coming, and now is coming. Is here, in fact. Sorry for the extremely long wait, and any of you who read The Wraiths and are now reading (and reviewing) this, I thank you for sticking with me. It means a lot. You guys can hang from a cliff for a long time. If you haven't read the Wraiths... for shame! Go read it now (It's really short). NOW, I SAY! erm... now on to the story.
Running.
Tim looked over his shoulder, cursed himself for his stupidity, and looked ahead.
Running.
Mandy had long since fallen behind. Tim thought he had heard her scream.
Running.
He'd been running for hours, not stopping. His breath was barely coming. Only his years upon years of endurance running saved him. Bill was a little ahead and to the right of him.
Running. Nonstop. To stop would mean death, or worse, becoming a Ringwraith, bound to the Ring.
Running.
The small portion - extremely small - of Tim's mind that wasn't preoccupied with the wraiths was running it through. It made no sense; the Ringwraith's had died. He read the books, they were dead. They had to be!
Running.
Unless they were as depicted by Peter Jackson - by him, they still lived. Tim cursed Jackson for ever making the movies, if that were the case.
Tripping, stumbling. Falling.
Tim looked with horror filling his eyes and heart as a Ringwraith caught up. Tim brought out the Morgul blade in a vain attempt to defend himself. The wraith, caught of guard, was slow to clear its own blade.
Block. Parry, thrust.
The morgul blade was a dangerous weapon; dangerous in the same way that the Ringwraith was a dangerous foe: both could make Tim like them.
Riposte, sidestep, kick.
The kick connected with the Ringwraith's chest, driving it to the ground. Tim gaped for a split second before turning.
Running.
Tim was astonished at what he had done. He had subdued a Ringwraith.
Running.
Another Wraith on a horse leaped out in front of Tim from a side-street - mercifully to Tim, the busy street he was on was strangely empty.
Sliding. Thrusting up.
Slide brought Tim under the horse, and he thrusted his blade up into the horse's belly.
Coming to his feet.
Tim came to his feet like magic, and, almost as an afterthought, he grabbed the wraith's larger blade.
Running.
Tim realized that he couldn't continue running like this, the Wraith's would eventually get him. He had to hide...
Running, searching.
The small part of his mind that wasn't preoccupied wondered about why they were after him. What had he done? Why him?
Running.
Bill was nowhere to be seen. It figured. Tim had been held up twice, and he now carried a heavy sword. And Bill had spent those same years building up endurance running with track.
Running.
A group of Wraith's now surrounded Tim. Odd - they were all his height.
And then he got it. He stopped running, gaping again in astonishment.
"You... you... you're my friends..." He stammered.
"Give us the Ring!" They demanded in their own, wierd voices.
"I don't have it!"
They repeated their request.
"Blast it, I don't have your stupid Ring! You - you aren't _real_!"
Their responce was to draw their swords. Tim hefted his.
And they went to battle.
Author: WedgeAntilles1, or whatever I may of changed my name to at this point
Summary: The (hopefully) long-awaited sequel to The Wraiths.
A/N: Yes, this is the sequel that I told you was coming, then told you wasn't coming, and now is coming. Is here, in fact. Sorry for the extremely long wait, and any of you who read The Wraiths and are now reading (and reviewing) this, I thank you for sticking with me. It means a lot. You guys can hang from a cliff for a long time. If you haven't read the Wraiths... for shame! Go read it now (It's really short). NOW, I SAY! erm... now on to the story.
Running.
Tim looked over his shoulder, cursed himself for his stupidity, and looked ahead.
Running.
Mandy had long since fallen behind. Tim thought he had heard her scream.
Running.
He'd been running for hours, not stopping. His breath was barely coming. Only his years upon years of endurance running saved him. Bill was a little ahead and to the right of him.
Running. Nonstop. To stop would mean death, or worse, becoming a Ringwraith, bound to the Ring.
Running.
The small portion - extremely small - of Tim's mind that wasn't preoccupied with the wraiths was running it through. It made no sense; the Ringwraith's had died. He read the books, they were dead. They had to be!
Running.
Unless they were as depicted by Peter Jackson - by him, they still lived. Tim cursed Jackson for ever making the movies, if that were the case.
Tripping, stumbling. Falling.
Tim looked with horror filling his eyes and heart as a Ringwraith caught up. Tim brought out the Morgul blade in a vain attempt to defend himself. The wraith, caught of guard, was slow to clear its own blade.
Block. Parry, thrust.
The morgul blade was a dangerous weapon; dangerous in the same way that the Ringwraith was a dangerous foe: both could make Tim like them.
Riposte, sidestep, kick.
The kick connected with the Ringwraith's chest, driving it to the ground. Tim gaped for a split second before turning.
Running.
Tim was astonished at what he had done. He had subdued a Ringwraith.
Running.
Another Wraith on a horse leaped out in front of Tim from a side-street - mercifully to Tim, the busy street he was on was strangely empty.
Sliding. Thrusting up.
Slide brought Tim under the horse, and he thrusted his blade up into the horse's belly.
Coming to his feet.
Tim came to his feet like magic, and, almost as an afterthought, he grabbed the wraith's larger blade.
Running.
Tim realized that he couldn't continue running like this, the Wraith's would eventually get him. He had to hide...
Running, searching.
The small part of his mind that wasn't preoccupied wondered about why they were after him. What had he done? Why him?
Running.
Bill was nowhere to be seen. It figured. Tim had been held up twice, and he now carried a heavy sword. And Bill had spent those same years building up endurance running with track.
Running.
A group of Wraith's now surrounded Tim. Odd - they were all his height.
And then he got it. He stopped running, gaping again in astonishment.
"You... you... you're my friends..." He stammered.
"Give us the Ring!" They demanded in their own, wierd voices.
"I don't have it!"
They repeated their request.
"Blast it, I don't have your stupid Ring! You - you aren't _real_!"
Their responce was to draw their swords. Tim hefted his.
And they went to battle.