Warnings: Torture and death. Not into that? Then hit the back button. You have been warned.
Soft hands stroked the side of his face. Slowly, Sam's eyes fluttered open to find Frodo kneeling over him. There was gentleness in the caress, a feeling Sam thought he would never feel again from his master. He pushed it aside though, he knew better. A silk sheet had been placed over his naked body, which instantly dampened with flowing blood. A whimper came from the hobbit as the other ran his hand along his backside, brutally raw. Sadness seemed to flicker in Frodo's eyes and for a moment Sam could have sworn the blue fire in the orbs had dimmed. His seemed worn and ragged.
"I am sorry," Frodo said, true sympathy lacing his words. "I did not intend for this abomination to happen to you. Believe me when I say that. I never intended this."
"How could you not see it coming?" Sam muttered, hostility forming. "You left me alone with orcs. What did you expect to happen? When do those creatures ever obey their orders? They always give in to their lusts."
Frodo wiped at his eyes. He ignored Sam's words. "Those who defiled you have been taken care of. If it is any comfort I have made their deaths extremely painful. I had them gradually boiled alive in oil. I wish you had been awake to witness it. I am sure their cries would have brought you joy the way yours must have brought them. There are a few still left alive. Would you accompany me to watch? I have no doubt it would be a great retribution to you."
"It comforts me not," Sam groaned. "You should know that. Death of others will never be a release for me. Tell me, does it please you to see me this way? It must. It is what you wanted, is it not? To break me. Well, you have yet to succeed. I am not gone and I will not go quietly."
Frodo sighed, wiped away the tears, and grew stern. "My dear Sam, I never wanted it to go this far. It is your stubbornness that continues your torment. I can end it all for you, you know. All the pain can be gone with just a few simple words. Tell me Sam. Tell me to end your misery. I can do it. Life can be a delight for you again. All you want could be yours, Sam. I know what you want. Just tell me those few simple words and it will be done."
"What I want, you cannot give me," Sam sobbed. "You are destroying the world around us. All I ever wanted is in that dying world. I only want a nice home, a family, and a garden. Now that you have claimed possession of the Ring it will never happen. Middle-earth is a wasteland. There is nothing left for me."
"But I can give you that," Frodo pressured. "Sam, not all of Middle-earth is a wasteland. I have done some consideration and have decided to spare a portion of The Shire. I cannot deny, most of the land has been ravaged but a small portion yet remains under heavy guard. Do you know what section has been spared?" Sam shook his head. "Why, the land surrounding Old Cotton's Farm. Does that name ring a bell to you?"
"Rosie," Sam muttered, wide-eyed.
"Ah, I thought you would remember," Frodo chuckled. "After all, who could forget such a lass? I knew you always had your eye on her. It was quite obvious. I suppose you could still have that nice home, that garden, and that family. I am sure Rosie would make a fine wife and produce such wonderful children. Why, if you did not already have your sights on her I might have snatched her up."
"Rosie, where is she?" Sam asked.
"I am glad you asked," Frodo said. "As we speak she is being sent by several of my personal escorts."
"You did not," Sam muttered, terrified. "Tell me you did not send the Nazgul."
"Of course I sent the Nazgul," Frodo snapped. "After seeing what the orcs just did to you I could only imagine what indescribable acts they would do to her. The Nazgul were the only ones I could trust. They do not indulge their primary needs. Do not fret over it. I am certain she is alright."
"Why are you bringing Rosie here?" Sam asked. "This is no place for her."
"Indeed it is not," Frodo answered. "And how pleasant her stay is will be entirely in your hands."
"Leave her alone," Sam moaned. "Please, return her to The Shire."
"What is it?" Frodo asked. "You do not want her now. Well, that is a shame. Since you will not be around to keep her warm, perhaps I will."
"You wouldn't," Sam growled.
"Hm, you really do not know me, do you Sam?" Frodo chuckled. "Rosie will be here soon. I should go out to greet her. I would not be considered a gracious host if I left her standing out the cold, would I?"
"Leave her alone," Sam hissed. "I swear if you touch one hair on her body I will...."
"You will what?" Frodo snapped. "Do not make such empty threats. I warned you once about doing that. Now, I must tear myself away from you for she is waiting. You will see her later. Consider what I have said and offered to you, friend. I would advice you make a decision soon, if you want less pain for yourself and your little sweetheart." Frodo turned but then changed his mind. "What am I thinking? If you are to accompany me later you must have usage of your legs and arms. My, how my mind wanders sometimes."
He bent to the ground, placed his hand on Sam's forehead, and chanted inaudible words. Warmth surged through Sam's body and a white light came over his eyes. When the light vanished the pain dissipated along with it. Sam glared down at his body and gasped. Not only were the cuts and burns gone but he could move his arms and legs also.
He glanced up at Frodo with a questioning look. "I thought you wanted to break me."
Frodo gave a hearty laugh. "Yes, of course I want to break you, friend." He leaned over to hiss in Sam's ear. "But I want to break your soul not your body. Keep that in mind. Wounds on the surface can easily be mended but wounds on the inside may take a lifetime, if that, to heal."
"I will end up dead before you can succeed," Sam snarled.
"We shall see," Frodo said. "Choose your words carefully, Sam. You may end up eating them in the end. I fear that you need some sort of inspiration to cooperate. I may have found it."
*
Later that day Sam was escorted from his cell. He found himself heading for that dreaded chamber again and fear began to rise in him. The despicable acts that took place in that room came back to haunt him. His feet grew heavy and his steps slowed. The orcs got him moving soon enough with a few rough nudges. Door opened, Sam was shoved inside. Frodo was a few feet away from him staring at the wall. Someone was in front of the hobbit but blocked Sam from gaining a clear view of the person. A soft whine was all Sam needed to identify them. He broke free from the orcs and dashed forward. Not thinking clearly, he ran straight into Frodo, knocking the other hobbit to the floor. Before Sam could reach the person a hand took hold of his foot and pulled up. He too wound up on the ground but in far more pain than the hobbit beside him; his ankle was sprained.
"Now, that was not very polite Sam," Frodo scolded. "You should know better then to run like a wild thing. It can wind up harming other people or in this case, you. I have a nice little surprise for you but I suppose you already know whom it is, judging by your reaction."
"Sam," a weak voice murmured.
"Oh, Rosie, my Rosie," Sam whimpered, crawling to her form.
Rosie was huddled on the floor shivering violently. Her dark curls swayed as she gazed into Sam's eyes. Sam was glad to note she was still in one piece but there was visible bruising on her face. He stretched his hand to her, trying to make any contact. In return she too reached out but it was not meant to be. Frodo stepped between the two and kicked Sam's hand away, forcing it to the ground. The hobbit placed all his weight on Sam's hand causing the other to cry in pain at the crushing force.
"You will touch when I say you can," Frodo hissed, removing his foot. "Now, be a good little hobbit and stay still."
The harshness in Frodo's voice sent chills down Sam's spine. He found himself glued to the spot in fright. Smirking, Frodo clasped his hands around Rosie's locks and tugged. She cried in pain and desperately fought to stand, trying to alleviate the pressure on her head. Frodo knocked out her footing and she fell to the floor, minus a chunk of curls. The torn scalp began to bleed.
"Stop!" Sam wailed. "Leave her be for God's sake! Do not hurt her!"
"But I fear I have no choice, Sam," Frodo said. "You will not cooperate with me so I have to take it out on others. I will stop, though, if you so wish. All you have to do is ask. You should know by now."
Sam became silent.
"As I thought," Frodo darkly chuckled. "You think I will not go far with this torment, do you? If you think this you are gravely mistaken, friend. I give you one final chance to speak up for I tend to lose myself in the midst of torture. Any words spoken at that time will go unheeded. So, will you accept?"
Sam lowered his head, still silent.
"Very well," Frodo said, moving toward Rosie.
"Wait, please!" Sam yelled. "Your battle is with me, not her! If you are looking for someone to beat then by all means do it to me but not her! I beg of you let her go! Please, take it out on me!"
"Take what out on you Sam?" Frodo asked. "I have no anger toward you. Besides, what is the point in torturing a willing host when I have an unwilling one here? I will stop. Just say the word and I will."
Sam shook his head.
Frodo's fist slammed into the side of Rosie's cheek.
Sam would still not answer.
Another blow was delivered, this time striking her nose. A loud pop echoed through the room. Blood was streaming down her lips.
Sam shook but did not mouth any words.
"My, such a sacrifice you are willing to make," Frodo cruelly laughed. "I cannot believe you will allow such a lovely creature to suffer. Why not end it?"
Sam looked away.
Frodo motioned for the two orcs and they took Rosie by the arms. She was dragged and hauled onto a nearby table. Above the table stood a pulley, lined with razor sharp spikes. Alongside the table, on silver tray, sat various instruments. Knives, hooks, pinchers, it was all there. Nausea swept over Sam. He tried to rush to the table but was unable; he was frozen to the spot with a clear view. One of the orcs took the pinchers and dug them into the flaming hearth. Within minutes the object was pulled out glowing a bright red. Handed back to Frodo, the hobbit turned to briefly smile at Sam before plunging the pinchers into Rosie's belly. Anguished shrieks echoed throughout the room. The cries only seemed to entice Frodo, digging the pinchers further into the soft flesh. Blood gushed from the wound as he pulled the metallic object from her belly. Using his hands, Frodo delved into the wound and swished around, searching. A gleam formed in his eye as he found what he was looking. Painfully slow, he pulled his blood coated hands from inside Rosie's gut with his fingers wrapped around an intestine. Rosie threw her head back and wailed. Occasionally she would glance at Sam with a silent plea. All Sam could do was watch and sob and whimper apologies. He turned to Frodo.
Sam's face paled and he swayed slightly. "No, stop. Please, master, stop."
"You know what you must say," Frodo said. "Say it and I will end her misery."
"I will not," Sam replied.
"Then I will not stop," Frodo shot back.
"Stop, please, I am begging you," Sam screamed, falling to his knees. "Master, mercy, please!"
Frodo ignored him. He entwined the intestine around the pulley and began to twist. Gradually, the intestine wound around the pulley and grew larger and larger. Rosie had stopped screaming. Her eyes were wide; sweat had formed all over her pallid face and slid down in droplets.
"I do not think she has screamed enough," Frodo said. "Perhaps it is time to perform something else. After all, she does not have much time. Shock is already starting to set in and I would like to hear a few more anguished cries before she cannot feel anymore."
"What?" Sam asked.
"Hm, I wonder if I should tear into her face," Frodo continued. "Maybe thrust the point of the pincher under her jaw. Pierce her tongue and cranium at the same time. Wait, no, that will not work. She would perish too quickly. Maybe I could tear off her nose, or how about gauging her eyes out? Does that sound gruesome enough for you, Sam?" The other hobbit groaned. "I agree. Perhaps I should brand her but, oh; there is no real use in that I suppose. It seems all the time I have wasted speaking to you she has gone into shock. Well, poor Rosie does not appear to have much time left. Would you like to come over and say some last words? I suggest you do it while she is still coherent."
Sam quickly ran to her side, taking her cold, sweaty palm in his hand. He kissed it over and over with tears dripping down his face.
"Oh God, my Rosie," Sam whimpered. "Oh, I am so sorry. Please forgive me."
Rosie gave him an answer. With little strength she had left she slammed her hand across his face. Tears were streaming down his face now. Confusion spread all over him.
"Why did you not help me?" Rosie hissed. "All you did was stand there and watch me suffer. Why?"
"I am sorry!" Sam wailed. "He would not stop no matter how hard I begged!"
"You should have given him what he wanted," Rosie growled. "I am amazed he has not killed you yet. Worthless. You are worthless. I wish I had never met you, Sam. If I hadn't I would not be dying here in a cell. You could have helped me but I suppose a coward cannot do much."
"Rosie," Sam cried. "I love you."
Silence.
Frodo leaned over Sam's shoulder. "Would you like me to end her misery? Would you like me to give her peace?"
His vision became blurry and his mind raced. Lowly, he spoke. "Yes."
"Tell me," Frodo hissed. "You have to tell me what you want."
"I want you to end her suffering," Sam murmured, clenching his eyes shut. "I will do anything you ask. I will become your partner or you slave. I will do whatever you wish just as long as you give her rest."
A triumphant grin formed on Frodo's face. "All you ever have to do is ask."
Frodo moved to Rosie's side. He ran his hand alongside her face and cupped her cheek while his other snaked around her throat. With lightening speed, he snapped her neck. Sam gave a startled cry and shoved Frodo aside. The hobbit cradled Rosie in his arms weeping bitterly.
"What have you done?!" screamed Sam. "I did not ask for this! I asked you to release her from the pain!"
"But that is exactly what I have done, dear Sam," Frodo said. "You asked me to end her suffering, so I did. As you can see, she is no longer in pain."
"I did not mean it that way and you know it!" Sam cried.
"Then next time I suggest you word what you want a little more carefully," Frodo chided. "Oh, do not make such a big deal over it. Look at the so called hobbit you hold."
Gazing down, Sam found he no longer held Rosie but a melting mass. The hobbit form has vanished which left a slimly, black sludge coating Sam's arms. Disgust rose up in him as he fought to wipe the residue off.
"What is the meaning of this!" Sam bellowed.
"I so enjoy my work," Frodo said. "Do you like it? She almost looked like the real Rosie, did she not?"
"What do you mean?" asked Sam.
"That thing was not real," said Frodo. "I created a look alike to Rosie. I thought you would never give into me. I suppose I underestimated you. Well, I am a bit surprised."
"Then, Rosie is still alive?" Sam asked, hope shinning in him. "She is alright?"
"Oh, I would not think that far ahead," Frodo chuckled. "I did bring her here over an hour ago. I must say, she was just as beautiful as I remembered her to be. Quite a timid creature. The poor dear. I was going to use her to blackmail you a bit but I changed my mind. I knew you would not give in, even for her. I had no use for Rosie so I let the orcs have her. Her corpse, what is left of it, is in the courtyard. The last I saw of it was quite messy. Those orcs did a real number on her. I would let you see but what is the point in it? After all, orcs tend to eat what they kill."
Sam became dizzy.
"Do not worry though. She did not suffer entirely at the hands of the orcs. I think she had a moment's pleasure, when I forced her into my bed."
The last words stung at Sam's heart. He glared up at Frodo in rage.
"You should not give your master such a look, Sam," Frodo warned. "I hope you remember our little agreement. You belong to me now."
"You tricked me!" Sam spat. "I will never be your servant! You do not own me!" He grasped his head. "My Rosie. My dear Rosie. You will pay for what you have done to her!"
"More empty threats?" Frodo sighed. "You seem to be getting good at speaking those. Can you follow through on one?"
Sam leapt forward tackling Frodo to the ground. The hobbit was momentarily taken off guard but soon shot up. A damaging kick was delivered to Sam's head. When he tried to stand his feet were swept out and his back crashed against the stone. A stabbing pain traveled down Sam's spine. More and more kicks were rained on his frail body, each becoming more erratic and violent. Blows were spread all over his body; striking his backside, cracking his ribs, smashing his face. When he was roughly turned on his belly Sam panicked and attempted to flee. As he felt Frodo lower his body onto his back Sam cried out, bucking wildly. Frodo pressed his lips into Sam's ear.
"You know, if you were not so damned ugly, I would tear my way inside you, shred your softest tissues, just to watch your face twist in agony," he hissed. "No, I think I will leave that up to the orcs. After all, they have already claimed you as their whore. Tomorrow, I will throw you into the courtyard and watch as they claw at you, beat you, tear you apart. Then, just when you think death is approaching, your body will be healed so they can do it all over again and again and again until the end of time."
"You cannot do this me," Sam groaned, spitting up blood.
"Oh, but I can, Sam," Frodo chuckled. "Have you forgotten already? You are mine to do with as I please. The pact we made is binding. There is no escape for you. There is no escape for me. For the rest of your days you will remain here. The both of us will remain here. Welcome to hell, friend."
White, hot pain flashed through Sam's body. A knife had slid underneath his back, slowly making its way up. He was being skinned alive. He closed his eyes and waited for a death that would never come. He really was in hell.
More to follow.