A form was slinking along in the darkness nursing his arm and cursing under
his breath. He stopped, hissed, and spat, then continued on his crooked
path. He walked so nimbly in the darkness, his pale eyes searching along
the walls, the exit was nearing. The darkling light that shadowed over
these bleak lands was visible through a small crevice in the darkness, a
thin rip in black clothe.
"Achss! Nassty, cruel, hobbitses! Hitss us with mean nassty stick, he does."
Gollum fingered his arm and touched the sensitive bruise, this only brought on another string of inaudible curses. He peeked out the crevice, his head lolling about his scrawny neck as he took in his surroundings. There was something out in the distance, his keen eyes could only detect two dark forms splayed across the landscape. He began to slink along the wall and slithered into the shadows, his pale eyes shining, dim and dark. He was silent and stealthy, blending in with the shadows as he advanced upon the figures.
"Achss! Yess, my preciouss, Gollum! She gots him, filthy little hobbitses, cruel, wicked Bagginses, she gots him she did!"
As he was about to pounce down on Frodo's silent, sleeping body, he saw Sam lying by his side. Gollum hissed again and shrank back into the shadows. He watched them, eyes intent.
"Wicked, nassty, Sam-hobbit. He stayed with masster, he did. Nassty hits us with cruel stick." Gollum ran his fingers along his arm and winced again. He waited silently, watching, wondering.
It was then that he noticed something wrong. There was something amiss with the two sleeping forms. He looked at Sam more intently, slithering out of the protection of the shadows. He saw no danger. Sam's sleeping body was not moving, completely still in an odd and seemingly uncomfortable position. He was curled, his back to Frodo, and his knees drawn forward as if he had collapsed or fallen that way, and his arms curved, gripping something at his chest. From the back he seemed to be curled up in a deep sleep, wrapped in silent and calm dreams.
Gollum advanced silently, Sam's body completely still. Even as Gollum pressed on his arm and let out a hiss of pain, Sam did not stir, neither hobbit stirred. Gollum paused a moment, then quickly leapt infront of the sleeping hobbit. Gollum jumped back, too startled to even hiss in triumph. What he saw was not quite what he had expected.
Sam lay, his hands fallen limp from Sting's hilt, the blade driven into his chest. His face looked calm, no look of horror before death, no fear, and seemingly no pain. His eyes were open and calm, like still pools of faded light. His skin was as pale as moonlight, his life's blood pooled about him and growing cold for how long he had been lying there in his endless sleep. The only thing off were the dark circles that framed his eyes, other than those fingerprints of death that Gollum had come well accustomed to, Sam would have looked simply in an open eyed sleep, like an elf. Gollum hissed and backed away at the thought of elves.
A faded memory rushed through Gollum's mind. A scene from what Gollum had once been played through his memory and fooled the vision before him, blending reality with what once was and Gollum began to tremble. The dark light faded from his eyes, now they were pleading, pitiful, and strangely frightened. Gollum's body began to tremble at what he saw before him. A small hobbit lying still and limp at the riverbed. He reached out a trembling hand towards Sam then drew it back quickly.
"Deagol," he whispered as he examined Sam's still body closely.
Sam's hopeless, fading gaze looked through Gollum endlessly. It was the starglass that brought Gollum back with a hiss as he saw it by Frodo's side.
"Elveses light!" he shielded his eyes and the vision faded into nothing.
Darkness soon crept into Gollum's mind as he saw Frodo lying in the glow of the starglass. Gollum advanced upon his sleeping master and looked down at him. He was not dead. Shelob's poison still in effect though his complexion lost most of its green hue. His face was expressionless, still and pale in the light. His brow slightly creased with tormenting dreams, his lips partly agape almost as if he were calling out, they moved wordlessly and it was barely noticable that he moved at all. His lips formed one, voiceless word and he was still once more. "Samwise." Without that slight movement he could have easily been mistaken for dead, his skin was pale and cold to the touch, not a breath or heartbeat noticeable by any close touch, and two dark circles around his eyes, not as dark as Sam's but there nonetheless. Gollum recognized the effects of Shelob's poison well enough, he would lay there for a good long time trapped in dark and violent dreams.
It was then that Gollum heard orcs in the distance and he hissed about to dive back into the shadows when he remembered, precious. He could see the orcs now, coming along the path, talking in their foul tongue, hunting something. They were searching for the spies, Frodo's and Sam's prescence were known, but their knowledge of the ring was probably little or nothing at all. Under the command to find spies from the west they hunted without question. Gollum knew orcs well enough to assume this.
His long, boney hands groped around Frodo's neck anxiously. His movements became more violent and frantic as he fumbled along the chain, almost choking Frodo. When the cool metal of the ring sifted into his hands, Gollum hissed loudly with joy. The orcs jumped and brandished their weapons. One pointed towards Gollum and they began to run with horrible spead. Gollum took no heed of them. He unclasped the silver chain and left it limp and wrapped around Frodo's neck like a noose. Gollum could not care.
"Preciousss! Preciousss! Preciousss!" He hissed joyfully holding up the ring. "It's ourses! Back with us again, Preciouss!" His eyes gleamed in their dark light and without hesitation the ring was around Gollum's finger.
The orcs stopped mid-stride before the still bodies of Frodo and Sam, the creature they pursued had vanished. They cursed loudly, taking no heed to the bodies before them. One snuck over to where Frodo lay and looked about, he cursed and spat on his companion who returned the foul obsinity.
"It's your fault you slow hobbler! Can't keep up with me! My kind was not meant to hunt with your lowly, worthless race!"
The other, obviously smaller, orc brandished his spear. "I got a good mind to-"
"You don't got a good mind you-" The tall orc was prevented from finishing his insult. Invisible hands groped at his neck, there was a loud hissing in his ear and air was prevented from reaching his lungs. He struggled, trying desperately to shake a heavy weight that had wrapped itself around his neck and heaved on his back. He choked and gagged, the other orc watched in frightened amusement.
Before the small orc could make to run, even before the first one's body hit the ground with a terrible thud only a few feet away from Frodo, tight hands wrapped around the small orc's neck. He ran about wildly before something else wrapped around his leg and he pitched forward and struggled about on the ground. Gollum hissed, pleased with his work.
"Preciouss! Preciouss! We shall never take preciouss off our fingerss, no we won't. Won't lose preciouss again!" Gollum hissed triumphantly and sprang away. The ring stayed neatly on his finger now, it was going where it willed, Gollum was now its puppet. He was heading straight towards the tower as the eye atop looked on in triumph. A darkness spread over the world, a storm stretching its long arm toward the west and on. Middle- Earth's end was near as the first form of the shadow made its way to Gondor.
"Achss! Nassty, cruel, hobbitses! Hitss us with mean nassty stick, he does."
Gollum fingered his arm and touched the sensitive bruise, this only brought on another string of inaudible curses. He peeked out the crevice, his head lolling about his scrawny neck as he took in his surroundings. There was something out in the distance, his keen eyes could only detect two dark forms splayed across the landscape. He began to slink along the wall and slithered into the shadows, his pale eyes shining, dim and dark. He was silent and stealthy, blending in with the shadows as he advanced upon the figures.
"Achss! Yess, my preciouss, Gollum! She gots him, filthy little hobbitses, cruel, wicked Bagginses, she gots him she did!"
As he was about to pounce down on Frodo's silent, sleeping body, he saw Sam lying by his side. Gollum hissed again and shrank back into the shadows. He watched them, eyes intent.
"Wicked, nassty, Sam-hobbit. He stayed with masster, he did. Nassty hits us with cruel stick." Gollum ran his fingers along his arm and winced again. He waited silently, watching, wondering.
It was then that he noticed something wrong. There was something amiss with the two sleeping forms. He looked at Sam more intently, slithering out of the protection of the shadows. He saw no danger. Sam's sleeping body was not moving, completely still in an odd and seemingly uncomfortable position. He was curled, his back to Frodo, and his knees drawn forward as if he had collapsed or fallen that way, and his arms curved, gripping something at his chest. From the back he seemed to be curled up in a deep sleep, wrapped in silent and calm dreams.
Gollum advanced silently, Sam's body completely still. Even as Gollum pressed on his arm and let out a hiss of pain, Sam did not stir, neither hobbit stirred. Gollum paused a moment, then quickly leapt infront of the sleeping hobbit. Gollum jumped back, too startled to even hiss in triumph. What he saw was not quite what he had expected.
Sam lay, his hands fallen limp from Sting's hilt, the blade driven into his chest. His face looked calm, no look of horror before death, no fear, and seemingly no pain. His eyes were open and calm, like still pools of faded light. His skin was as pale as moonlight, his life's blood pooled about him and growing cold for how long he had been lying there in his endless sleep. The only thing off were the dark circles that framed his eyes, other than those fingerprints of death that Gollum had come well accustomed to, Sam would have looked simply in an open eyed sleep, like an elf. Gollum hissed and backed away at the thought of elves.
A faded memory rushed through Gollum's mind. A scene from what Gollum had once been played through his memory and fooled the vision before him, blending reality with what once was and Gollum began to tremble. The dark light faded from his eyes, now they were pleading, pitiful, and strangely frightened. Gollum's body began to tremble at what he saw before him. A small hobbit lying still and limp at the riverbed. He reached out a trembling hand towards Sam then drew it back quickly.
"Deagol," he whispered as he examined Sam's still body closely.
Sam's hopeless, fading gaze looked through Gollum endlessly. It was the starglass that brought Gollum back with a hiss as he saw it by Frodo's side.
"Elveses light!" he shielded his eyes and the vision faded into nothing.
Darkness soon crept into Gollum's mind as he saw Frodo lying in the glow of the starglass. Gollum advanced upon his sleeping master and looked down at him. He was not dead. Shelob's poison still in effect though his complexion lost most of its green hue. His face was expressionless, still and pale in the light. His brow slightly creased with tormenting dreams, his lips partly agape almost as if he were calling out, they moved wordlessly and it was barely noticable that he moved at all. His lips formed one, voiceless word and he was still once more. "Samwise." Without that slight movement he could have easily been mistaken for dead, his skin was pale and cold to the touch, not a breath or heartbeat noticeable by any close touch, and two dark circles around his eyes, not as dark as Sam's but there nonetheless. Gollum recognized the effects of Shelob's poison well enough, he would lay there for a good long time trapped in dark and violent dreams.
It was then that Gollum heard orcs in the distance and he hissed about to dive back into the shadows when he remembered, precious. He could see the orcs now, coming along the path, talking in their foul tongue, hunting something. They were searching for the spies, Frodo's and Sam's prescence were known, but their knowledge of the ring was probably little or nothing at all. Under the command to find spies from the west they hunted without question. Gollum knew orcs well enough to assume this.
His long, boney hands groped around Frodo's neck anxiously. His movements became more violent and frantic as he fumbled along the chain, almost choking Frodo. When the cool metal of the ring sifted into his hands, Gollum hissed loudly with joy. The orcs jumped and brandished their weapons. One pointed towards Gollum and they began to run with horrible spead. Gollum took no heed of them. He unclasped the silver chain and left it limp and wrapped around Frodo's neck like a noose. Gollum could not care.
"Preciousss! Preciousss! Preciousss!" He hissed joyfully holding up the ring. "It's ourses! Back with us again, Preciouss!" His eyes gleamed in their dark light and without hesitation the ring was around Gollum's finger.
The orcs stopped mid-stride before the still bodies of Frodo and Sam, the creature they pursued had vanished. They cursed loudly, taking no heed to the bodies before them. One snuck over to where Frodo lay and looked about, he cursed and spat on his companion who returned the foul obsinity.
"It's your fault you slow hobbler! Can't keep up with me! My kind was not meant to hunt with your lowly, worthless race!"
The other, obviously smaller, orc brandished his spear. "I got a good mind to-"
"You don't got a good mind you-" The tall orc was prevented from finishing his insult. Invisible hands groped at his neck, there was a loud hissing in his ear and air was prevented from reaching his lungs. He struggled, trying desperately to shake a heavy weight that had wrapped itself around his neck and heaved on his back. He choked and gagged, the other orc watched in frightened amusement.
Before the small orc could make to run, even before the first one's body hit the ground with a terrible thud only a few feet away from Frodo, tight hands wrapped around the small orc's neck. He ran about wildly before something else wrapped around his leg and he pitched forward and struggled about on the ground. Gollum hissed, pleased with his work.
"Preciouss! Preciouss! We shall never take preciouss off our fingerss, no we won't. Won't lose preciouss again!" Gollum hissed triumphantly and sprang away. The ring stayed neatly on his finger now, it was going where it willed, Gollum was now its puppet. He was heading straight towards the tower as the eye atop looked on in triumph. A darkness spread over the world, a storm stretching its long arm toward the west and on. Middle- Earth's end was near as the first form of the shadow made its way to Gondor.