A/N: The Neos that are mentioned later in the chapter are the species of demons that killed off Jack and Boris. They resemble the Bonethieves from Eternal Darkness: Sanity's Requiem only Neos have two claws on their hands which are a lot shorter than the Bonethieves' and they have raptor-like feet.
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The TV turned on to the news.
"Two young boys met a violent death today at the local high school, S. J. Carnil School," the news anchor said. "Jack Saunders and Boris Donnolly were in the school field with their friends when mysterious, unknown creatures were reported to come out of the bordering forest and kill them. A student tells this story:..."
"We were just hanging out by the woods and, and this...THING jumped out of the woods," Lewis said in a panic, obviously still shocked by the experience. "All of us, except Jack, Aaron and Leo, ran like hell away from that place. The last thing I heard before I got to the street was the fence being torn apart and someone screaming."
"In light of these events, S. J. Carnil School will be closed to everybody except police and trained officials until further notice. The funerals of Jack Terrence Saundres and Boris David Donnolly will be tomorrow..."
The TV flickered off.
"Are you pleased of this, master?" A small creature huddled on the floor in front of the TV. Its luminous eyes reflected the dim lights like a cat's. It asked again in its raspy, hissing voice. "Master?"
"I am satisfied," replied a distorted voice. A shriveled hand clutched the TV remote on the armrest. A long, dark sleeve covered the rest of its arm. The being got up from the armchair and started to walk down a dark, dripping tunnel. "Only satisfied."
"But, but, master," the small creature questioned. It hobbled next to the dark figure like an obedient puppy. "What has gone wrong? We has done everything we could. We has achieved what we wanted. Yesss. And we would likes fishies now, Master. Nice, fresh fishies."
"No, Smeagol. We didn't do everything. Not everything that I wanted to be done. Everything has gone wrong since five thousand long years ago. You remember it, don't you, Smeagol? You were there."
Smeagol whimpered as he crawled along the cold stone. His eye twitched as he remembered what happened five millennia ago. "Yes, Master. We remembers it. We remembers it very well."
"Even though it was so long ago," the dark being muttered, almost to itself. "I can remember it like it was yesterday. You fell into the pit of fire in Mount Doom, with the One Ring firmly in your hands. I was there, waiting for my first taste of mortal blood. But, when you came into my arms, I knew that my time wasn't here yet. No. Sauron's power was undone and I needed that power to come into this world. So, I took your spirit into my power, manipulated it to my own needs and sent it into the future, when I would be ready to emerge and unleash my power. With my own magic, I made sure that a body similar to your old one was waiting for your spirit when you got here.
"I waited for what seemed to be an eternity, taking a steady amount of raw energy from the earth, growing stronger all the while I was biding my time underground. Then, you, Smeagol, came by to bring me out of my hellhole, even with a suitable body for me to live in. But, I'm still not ready." They came to a small chamber with yellowed papers with mystical, sinister writing on them strewn about. A door on the left was glowing with fire behind it. "I'm not ready. Not yet. Not until a sufficient army has been resurrected."
A resonating roar came from behind the door accompanied by a chorus of high-pitched shrieks. Smeagol cowered in fear by his master.
"Smeagol doesn't thing this is a good idea," he whimpered. "Smeagol doesn't think so at all."
"Smeagol may not agree with this," the twisted voice said. "But Gollum does. Gollum wants revenge to those who hurt him, doesn't he? He wants Frodo and Sam to scream in pain like he did in Mordor and Osgiliath. Am I right, Smeagol?"
Smeagol whimpered on the floor, not wanting to admit that his other half was so evil. Gollum overpowered Smeagol in their mind at the thought of the Hobbits being tortured by dozens of Orcs and Uruk-Hai.
"Yes," Gollum growled. "We wants it. We wants the cruel hobbits. We wants to tear at them, listen to their screams and watch them try to escape. We wants to watch them die. Just like we wants fishies."
Gollum's master opened a cabinet without a single movement of it's body. Inside the cabinet was a fish for Gollum.
"Eat it," his master said, slightly exasperated. Gollum bounded towards the dead fish and happily began to gnaw on it. "You're no use to me when you're constantly whining for food. Things would be much easier if I had a second helper, but that accursed elf-witch put a spell on the cloaks she had given to the Fellowship. That spell sent the body's spirit straight to the Afterworld, where even I can't go without using all my power. If that infuriating enchantment wasn't there, I'd have two more helpers. And you, Gollum, would have much more fun."
"Stupid Elf Queen and her stupid spell," sneered Gollum through his fish. "Frodo and his fat Hobbit would be here with us, helping Master in Master's plans, having lots of fun with us, if it weren't for Stupid Elf Queen and her spell."
"Yes," the Master drawled in its contorted voice. It busied itself with an archaic book and some potion vials. "If it weren't for Galadriel, I wouldn't be in this mess now. The Fellowship exists to this day. Their souls actually found the energy to come and live at this time, this crucial time in my plans.
"But, we do have some advantages over the Light. Do you know what they are, Gollum, my pet?"
Gollum threw away his bare fish skeleton and sat on the floor and thought. Finally, he said tentatively, "They's don't know that they're the Fellowship? And, and Master has already killed one of them, right?"
"Good, Gollum."
"But, Master," he continued. "What of the she-Elf? She is present in this time as well. She didn't have a spell cast on her."
"The girl, Aiden? Yes, her soul is of Arwen's, and yes, she didn't have an enchantment like Galadriel and the Fellowship, but her grief of Aragorn's death let her carry on. Spirits of Light draw their power from various sources, especially the force of love. But, she can also provide another advantage and be quite useful in my plan for domination."
"Advantage, Master?" Gollum hopped to his master and tried to read the book that rested on a stand. The words were indecipherable to his eyes. "How can the elf-girl be an advantage to us?"
"You ask too many questions, Gollum. Arwen's grief carried her soul to this era, but her memories will be much harder to recover. Galadriel's magic retained some memories of their old lives. Arwen will not remember so easily and so may prove to be a valuable asset against her own comrades.
"Come, Gollum. We must go down."
Gollum quickly forced Smeagol's mind in place of his own, much to Smeagol's dismay. The Master carried a large bottle filled with a dark, smoking liquid and opened the door. Smeagol gingerly peeked over the edge of the stone platform that stood right behind the iron door and he looked down into the dark pits within. All of a sudden, a fire burned brightly a few meters in front of him. He fell back onto his master's cloak in surprise. A foot nudged him back onto his feet.
The Master started to go down the stairs on their right with its cloak trailing behind it. The potion in its shriveled hand swished in the bottle with madness and anguish. The Master's distorted voice called out, "Keep up, Gollum! I won't say this again!"
Smeagol yelped in fear and quickly scurried beside his master. "Smeagol doesn't like this," he whispered. "This is too much like Barad-dur, Master. Reminds us of torture and pain, Master. Smeagol doesn't like this..."
The Master said nothing about his cowardice and continued down the stairs. Huge fires kept raging throughout the underground lair, shedding evil light on the surroundings. There was a vast field on the left that seemed to be forever writhing and bubbling with black Orcs tending the individual bubbles of sludge. Every now and then, a deep, booming roar came from the bubbling field and frightened the Orc workers there. Exactly parallel to the stairs was a dark tunnel sealed off by a gate and several burly Orc-guards. High-pitched screeching and snarls of anger with the swish of malicious claws could be heard through the gates. Glittering, red eyes stared through the darkness at the new figures coming down the stairs. Smeagol looked at them fearfully as he passed their cage.
"You have nothing to worry about, Smeagol." The warped voice carried a relatively soothing tone. "The Neos won't hurt you. Not unless I tell them to."
Smeagol gathered enough courage to make a face and stick his tongue out at the skeletal Neos. In response, several of the Neos slammed themselves against their cage in rage, showing him their bony undersides. Smeagol screamed and raced to his master's side for protection. His master took no visible heed and continued to drift down the dark hallway. On both sides of them, Orcs slaved away, making armor and weapons from the raw materials of the earth.
"Saruman's magic is strong," the Master commented. "It still works to this age. With his magic, I have brought back the terrible species back from the dead. This foolish world rejects the idea of magic and its awesome power, but because of their foolishness, the dark powers grow stronger than it would have in Middle-Earth. Do you know why, Smeagol?" He shook his head. "Because their belief sealed magic away for those who could use it. So now there is a great surplus of magic that I can use to make my army stronger and impervious from their feeble attacks."
"Master, where are we going?" Smeagol had noticed that they had been walking down the hallway for some time. Now, with each step, a sense of foreboding wrapped itself around him.
"We are going to make a small addition to the army's nourishment," the Master answered him in its twisted voice. It swirled the potion in its hand. "A small, but powerful, addition."
They entered a room where a solitary orc was working. Smeagol looked further down the hall and felt a great force of power emanating from the dark denizens of the lair. Inside the room, huge vats of unidentifiable liquids and large plates of very unappealing food sat on tables by the Orc, who was busy flitting from one pot to the other. He noticed their presence when Smeagol sniffed a nearby platter.
"Don't touch that!" the orc growled. "That's not for the likes of you to eat, vermin."
"Smeagol don't wants your filthy food. I's only wondering what kind of slime you're feeding Master's precious army."
"Oh! Master!" The Orc fell to his knees. He immediately adopted a softer tone. "Forgive me. What would you like to be done?"
The Master handed the black potion to him. The Orc looked at the potion quizzically. "Put this into the Orc's, Neo's and the army's sustenance. It will strengthen their natural defenses."
"Yes, Master," the Orc mumbled. He got up and started to add the brew into the vats of substances.
The Master silently turned and glided out of the room into the rough hallway. Smeagol didn't notice his master's absence until after a minute or two. He quickly ran out of the room and walked four-legged beside his master's cloak that was trailing along the floor. After a moment of quiet, the twisted voice broke the relative silence.
"You're wondering what kind of defenses I have I have equipped my ever-growing army, aren't you, Smeagol?"
"Master knows both Smeagol and Gollum well," he responded. "Will you tell us?"
"No," his master said after a small pause. "You will know soon enough. All you need to know right now is that my powerful army will disable their pitiful offensive and defensive attacks and it will overthrow this disgusting world of Men. That potion will shield them from everything that is not derived from magic. In this anti-sorcery world, this is the ultimate defense. I will tell you no more than that."
"Smeagol is happy with that, Master. This is enough for Gollum, too."
"Your curiosity will undoubtedly lead you into a trap. You must learn how to control it. Otherwise, you may meet a fate that is worse than your previous one. And you wouldn't even want your previous fate, would you?"
Smeagol shuddered involuntarily. "We's don't wants that, no. We'll be lots more careful from now on, Master."
"Good. I can't spare someone like you at the time. It would be unwise to be so careless while my plan is still in play." They came to the main hall and food was already being given out to the Orcs and the Neos. The sludge-like food that used to be in the vats were already being pumped through the field of growling slime bubbles. "But don't worry. At the rate which my plan is proceeding, the world shall be mine very soon. And no one, not even the fabled King of Men shall stop me..."
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A/N: That thing tends to ramble on quite a bit, doesn't it? So, I created a villain in this story and it's a classic obsessive bastard who plans on taking over the world. It's doing a pretty damn good job of it, too. Bringing back Orcs and Uruk-Hai and even making his own little creation... Anyway, REVIEW!