Crushing Hands
Gollum's
pov - his escape from Barad-dur… each "me, we, ours, us, I, etc"
is intentional, to show the different sides of the character.
Dark. Metal, pumping the life out of me…us…sharp, thin, sharp…crushing my hands, our handsss… no more bones, just flesh that can feel everything… dark, noise, merciless…
Baginnnnsss…
I gasp again. No, they tore that from our mind, our mind! The Baggins was ours….ours to take back what he stole, ours to destroy. They couldn't…aaaah. But no, now we think they can do anything they want. Anything…
Shire…..
Doesn't matter, let that one go. Just let me go! Let us go! Let usss…
I'm out. I'm on the ground. Green watery puddles, looks like slime, spit, like in the Cave. Sound dripping from above – hearing flashes. Something jumps in me, into my throat. Like fish. Hungry… must get out now. We must not stay where orcses can go. Escape, yes, escape from here. We run. Our hands sting inside, hurts us, we feel crushed veins. Run past the walls, the dark walls dripping red, running, breaking through the grey air. Another passage – so many, but this is easy, like the passages in the tunnels, in the Cave. We got past stupid orcses then, we can do it now. Our wanting leads the way. Wanting to get closer to It - closer every step on the sticky oozing floor, closer every short breath of the stifled air, closer every throb and prick in our hands. Closer now, outside. We found the tunnel, the one that goes out. We are in Mordor now.
Mordor. I look behind me and see the smoke rising, the darkness looming, reaching out. We look behind us and see our enemy. Our hands rush back to feeling. Swords in my veins. I collapse. Cry. Head down. Face in dust. Don't know how long – then we look up. We tell me to get up. I can't, but we do. We run again, across the hot ground, eyes full of the black-grey dust. We breathe.
I must find It.
We will.