Chapter 3.
Gollum scurried through the underbrush; barely making any noise, his wheezes and gasps from the exertion of running the only sounds audible. His front claws touching the ground occasionally, checking his balance.
The moonlight shone brightly in the night sky, making everything almost as bright as day, except for Gollum. His putrescent black skin absorbed all the light, making him near invisible. The only thing that could be seen was the reflection of the light off his large, sensitive eyes, like two small lanterns bobbing in the woods.
The still night air was suddenly disturbed with the slap of a bare foot on a packed gravel path. Within an instant, Gollum crossed the road and dove into the bushes again, only coming out into the open for a moment.
Then, all at once, the twisted little monster stopped. He climbed into a thick clump of bramble, ignoring the sharp barbs as they scratched and tore at his moist skin. He peered out into the darkness, and instantly spotted the hill he was looking for. If it weren't for the lights shining out of the windows, Gollum would never have found Bag End.
"Bagginsss," hissed the vengeful creature.
*
"How do you know for certain the powers of the ring?" Frodo asked, pacing back in forth in anxious fear, "I mean, you don't have possession of the ring, so how do you know its abilities?"
Gandalf's eyebrows drew together, and his lids narrowed over his eyes. "You don't seriously think that Gollum discovered how to make magic rings by himself do you?"
Frodo stopped his pacing, "You mean, he had help?"
"In a way, yes," answered the wizard, taking a sip of his brackle-berry tea, "The little bastard somehow managed to get a hold of some secret writings hidden in the library at Mordor. As you know, Aragorn, Elrond, and I were in the process of extracting all things of value from that god-forsaken land. That's how we knew to look for the little devil. Those writings told him exactly how to take all his hate and power (left over from when he held the old ring), and transfer it into something palpable. A ring."
Frodo swore and stamped his foot in anger. He knew exactly what Gollum was angry at. Him. And he didn't need to ask Gandalf why he had come. It was obvious. The wise old codger had come to protect the hobbit from the deranged little beast.
"Now, we must go from this pl-" Gandalf stopped talking. He whipped his head around and looked out the window. He had heard something.
The chair creaked as the tall man stood. He grabbed his staff and tightened his grip on the knarled stick of wood. He slowly made his way toward the windowsill. Frodo edged his way towards 'Sting'; he had a feeling he was going to need it.
Gandalf reached the window and peaked into the night. He leaned his hand on the sill to steady himself as he poked his head out of the small, hobbit-sized hole in the wall.
A blinding light enveloped the room. Since Gandalf was in front of Frodo, the hobbit had enough time to shield his eyes, the old wizard had no such luck. He got the full force of the blast of light and emotion, and, in an instant, was crumpled on the ground.
He writhed and screamed in inner torture as visions of death, suffering, and insignificance filled his head. When the light dissipated, Frodo ran to his friend's aid. He shook the old man's shoulders and called his name, but the wizard was oblivious. He only saw pain, he only felt torment, and he only heard screams. He became convinced of his own unimportance, and began muttering to himself.
"Baginsss," Frodo snapped his head to the windowsill when he heard his name. A thin, monstrous figure stood. It had a shining silver ring on its finger.
The hobbit dove for his sword, only to be caught by a powerful clawed hand. Frodo felt himself be thrown backwards into a wall. It shook with the force of the impact, and a framed picture of a very old hobbit shuddered, and fell, smashing into a million pieces. Frodo slunk to the ground, dazed and nearly unconscious from the hit. He felt the warm, foul breath of Gollum on his neck, and he knew that the angry creature was standing right over him.
"Is it dead, my preciousss?" the twisted creature muttered to himself, stroking the shimmering ring on his finger, "Doesss it WANT to die, my preciousss?"
Frodo's hand darted to the broken picture of his foster father. A large shard of sharp glass stung his hand as he gripped it. The hobbit lunged as hard as he could at Gollum, swinging his makeshift knife at the creature's eyes. He felt a jolt through his arm as he was stopped mid-swing. Gollum's claw had his wrist in a death grip; his pin-like nails digging into Frodo's skin.
The hobbit yelped in pain, and the blade of glass fell from his fingers, smashing as it hit the floor. His squeal was cut off as his assailant grabbed his throat and lifted him into the air. Frodo gagged and kicked as his face began turning colors. The hobbit gasped for air and struggled with consciousness, as he wrenched at the twisted creature's immobile hand. He didn't remember Gollum being THIS strong.
Suddenly, Gollum's hand fell away from Frodo's throat, and the monster soon found HIMSELF being lifted into the air, as if invisible hands had grabbed his shoulders and were picking him up. He flew across the room and straight into a door, which burst open, nearly ripping itself off of its hinges. The squealing and flailing creature was flung into the wine cellar, and the sound of Gollum thumping down the stairs echoed through the house.
The bewildered hobbit shrugged off the pain in is neck and arm, and dashed to the door, slamming it shut and locking it. He whirled around and saw that Gandalf was unconscious with exhaustion, and he had his staff in his hand. Frodo smiled a half smile, and hurried to his sword, and, in a flash of light, 'Sting' was unsheathed. The hobbit admired the elven blade, but stopped his staring when the door to the cellar began shaking and rattling on its hinges. With his newfound strength, there was no telling how long that door would hold Gollum.
Frodo gripped the wizard's collar and began dragging him towards the main hall, all the while keeping his sword pointed at the wine cellar door. When he reached the hall, Frodo wrapped his old friend in his cloak, and put on his own coat. It was near freezing outside.
The empowered hobbit kicked the round door to Bag End open, and dragged Gandalf into the darkness. The slamming and, for the first time ever, locking of the Baggins' home could be heard throughout the entire Shire that night. Frodo ran as fast as his short hobbit feet could take him around the house, and closed, and blocked all of the windows to his once happy home, locking Gollum within it.
When he was finished, he slumped down next to Gandalf, and gasped and wheezed for air. He wasn't a young hobbit anymore. Frodo reached for his pipe in his coat pocket, when he realized that he left it in the house.
"Oh, Damn," swore the frustrated hobbit, "Just when a smoke is really needed, I forget my pipe-"
A pair of hands encircled the unsuspecting hobbit's neck, and dragged him into the night.
Note: IS FRODO DEAD? IS GANDALF DEAD? IS GOLLUM...no wait, I love Gollum, so he'll never die. STAY TUNED!!!
Gollum scurried through the underbrush; barely making any noise, his wheezes and gasps from the exertion of running the only sounds audible. His front claws touching the ground occasionally, checking his balance.
The moonlight shone brightly in the night sky, making everything almost as bright as day, except for Gollum. His putrescent black skin absorbed all the light, making him near invisible. The only thing that could be seen was the reflection of the light off his large, sensitive eyes, like two small lanterns bobbing in the woods.
The still night air was suddenly disturbed with the slap of a bare foot on a packed gravel path. Within an instant, Gollum crossed the road and dove into the bushes again, only coming out into the open for a moment.
Then, all at once, the twisted little monster stopped. He climbed into a thick clump of bramble, ignoring the sharp barbs as they scratched and tore at his moist skin. He peered out into the darkness, and instantly spotted the hill he was looking for. If it weren't for the lights shining out of the windows, Gollum would never have found Bag End.
"Bagginsss," hissed the vengeful creature.
*
"How do you know for certain the powers of the ring?" Frodo asked, pacing back in forth in anxious fear, "I mean, you don't have possession of the ring, so how do you know its abilities?"
Gandalf's eyebrows drew together, and his lids narrowed over his eyes. "You don't seriously think that Gollum discovered how to make magic rings by himself do you?"
Frodo stopped his pacing, "You mean, he had help?"
"In a way, yes," answered the wizard, taking a sip of his brackle-berry tea, "The little bastard somehow managed to get a hold of some secret writings hidden in the library at Mordor. As you know, Aragorn, Elrond, and I were in the process of extracting all things of value from that god-forsaken land. That's how we knew to look for the little devil. Those writings told him exactly how to take all his hate and power (left over from when he held the old ring), and transfer it into something palpable. A ring."
Frodo swore and stamped his foot in anger. He knew exactly what Gollum was angry at. Him. And he didn't need to ask Gandalf why he had come. It was obvious. The wise old codger had come to protect the hobbit from the deranged little beast.
"Now, we must go from this pl-" Gandalf stopped talking. He whipped his head around and looked out the window. He had heard something.
The chair creaked as the tall man stood. He grabbed his staff and tightened his grip on the knarled stick of wood. He slowly made his way toward the windowsill. Frodo edged his way towards 'Sting'; he had a feeling he was going to need it.
Gandalf reached the window and peaked into the night. He leaned his hand on the sill to steady himself as he poked his head out of the small, hobbit-sized hole in the wall.
A blinding light enveloped the room. Since Gandalf was in front of Frodo, the hobbit had enough time to shield his eyes, the old wizard had no such luck. He got the full force of the blast of light and emotion, and, in an instant, was crumpled on the ground.
He writhed and screamed in inner torture as visions of death, suffering, and insignificance filled his head. When the light dissipated, Frodo ran to his friend's aid. He shook the old man's shoulders and called his name, but the wizard was oblivious. He only saw pain, he only felt torment, and he only heard screams. He became convinced of his own unimportance, and began muttering to himself.
"Baginsss," Frodo snapped his head to the windowsill when he heard his name. A thin, monstrous figure stood. It had a shining silver ring on its finger.
The hobbit dove for his sword, only to be caught by a powerful clawed hand. Frodo felt himself be thrown backwards into a wall. It shook with the force of the impact, and a framed picture of a very old hobbit shuddered, and fell, smashing into a million pieces. Frodo slunk to the ground, dazed and nearly unconscious from the hit. He felt the warm, foul breath of Gollum on his neck, and he knew that the angry creature was standing right over him.
"Is it dead, my preciousss?" the twisted creature muttered to himself, stroking the shimmering ring on his finger, "Doesss it WANT to die, my preciousss?"
Frodo's hand darted to the broken picture of his foster father. A large shard of sharp glass stung his hand as he gripped it. The hobbit lunged as hard as he could at Gollum, swinging his makeshift knife at the creature's eyes. He felt a jolt through his arm as he was stopped mid-swing. Gollum's claw had his wrist in a death grip; his pin-like nails digging into Frodo's skin.
The hobbit yelped in pain, and the blade of glass fell from his fingers, smashing as it hit the floor. His squeal was cut off as his assailant grabbed his throat and lifted him into the air. Frodo gagged and kicked as his face began turning colors. The hobbit gasped for air and struggled with consciousness, as he wrenched at the twisted creature's immobile hand. He didn't remember Gollum being THIS strong.
Suddenly, Gollum's hand fell away from Frodo's throat, and the monster soon found HIMSELF being lifted into the air, as if invisible hands had grabbed his shoulders and were picking him up. He flew across the room and straight into a door, which burst open, nearly ripping itself off of its hinges. The squealing and flailing creature was flung into the wine cellar, and the sound of Gollum thumping down the stairs echoed through the house.
The bewildered hobbit shrugged off the pain in is neck and arm, and dashed to the door, slamming it shut and locking it. He whirled around and saw that Gandalf was unconscious with exhaustion, and he had his staff in his hand. Frodo smiled a half smile, and hurried to his sword, and, in a flash of light, 'Sting' was unsheathed. The hobbit admired the elven blade, but stopped his staring when the door to the cellar began shaking and rattling on its hinges. With his newfound strength, there was no telling how long that door would hold Gollum.
Frodo gripped the wizard's collar and began dragging him towards the main hall, all the while keeping his sword pointed at the wine cellar door. When he reached the hall, Frodo wrapped his old friend in his cloak, and put on his own coat. It was near freezing outside.
The empowered hobbit kicked the round door to Bag End open, and dragged Gandalf into the darkness. The slamming and, for the first time ever, locking of the Baggins' home could be heard throughout the entire Shire that night. Frodo ran as fast as his short hobbit feet could take him around the house, and closed, and blocked all of the windows to his once happy home, locking Gollum within it.
When he was finished, he slumped down next to Gandalf, and gasped and wheezed for air. He wasn't a young hobbit anymore. Frodo reached for his pipe in his coat pocket, when he realized that he left it in the house.
"Oh, Damn," swore the frustrated hobbit, "Just when a smoke is really needed, I forget my pipe-"
A pair of hands encircled the unsuspecting hobbit's neck, and dragged him into the night.
Note: IS FRODO DEAD? IS GANDALF DEAD? IS GOLLUM...no wait, I love Gollum, so he'll never die. STAY TUNED!!!