Luthien and Tari OronarOn popular demand we have up dated sooner then we normally would have. I wish you would up date your Boromir story too.

AnnamariahThanks for the review mon ami. Of course our style is prefect darling! That's what makes us so wonderful!

Winkle : But not humble, that least not where Snodgrass is concerned.

Elvin Blue-EyedYou like spooky? Good because this story will be filed with spooky! Thanks for the review!

AraelMoonchild Well, we can always take a hint and two hints are even better! There we has up dated like good authors should! Thanks for the review!

Laer4572You are a reviewer of few words! Thanks for the review!

Erasuithiel : Sauron yes! You guessed it! I love the red eyes detail! And I am myself, quite sick of the sucked into ME in a car accident or drowning accident. Blah! And as to whether or not we got the names form Dickens…let's just say we know the dear man very well. Thanks for reviewing!

Eruanna92 : We got your review just before we started to up date! You made it just in time! Thanks again!

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Chapter Two

The Game Plan…I Win

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It was a lazy day and the sun filtered through the trees casting green shadows on the wide wheat field. Butterflies floated happily by and the birds twittered on in their mildly annoying way.

The peaceful scene was shattered by a groan and the appearance of a young man with an ugly bruise on his forehead. Morgan Van Pels was a normal twenty year old in the way of looks. He was of middling height and weight, not too much of anything. is hair was a rusty brown and his eyes a dull and boring grey.

Rolling upright he surveyed his surroundings. At first he thought he was alone, but sitting on a rock a few feet away, a man looked back at him. Morgan shot to his feet, swaying as blood rushed to his head.

"Who are you and where am I?" he demanded "and what have you done to Anne?"

The man raised a delicate hand, and made a clucking sound in the back of his throat,

"My, my, my, how rude we can be when we try. I think we should make introductions first." The man cleared his throat and placing a pale hand over his heart, bowed a little, saying

"I am Sauron, the Dark lord of Middle Earth."

Morgan snorted disdainfully

"Oh, and I'm the Easter bunny."

Sauron frowned, and sudden pain surged through Morgan's brain. It felt as though someone were sorting through his thoughts, filing away apparently random memories. Morgan didn't even have a chance to resist.

When his thoughts became his own again, he had crumpled to his knees, vomiting violently. Sauron examined his nails and chuckled deep in his throat.

"Very amusing…your Easter bunny. Now, tell me Morgan, what do you think of middle Earth? Needs a little more black I think, but I'll deal with that later. Come, speak up boy."

Morgan shuddered and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Who are you and why are you doing this?"

Sighing heavily, Sauron hauled Morgan to his feet and dusted off his coat, "I already told you. I am Sauron, Lord of Middle Earth. I am doing this because I want too."

Morgan looked at Sauron in the face and noticed something, "Why are your eyes red?"

"It was a long night." Sauron yawned.

"You sleep? I thought you were a giant lidless eye." Morgan said. Sauron wrinkled his nose and feigned offence.

"I don't sleep for one thing, at least not as you would understand it. And I can't imagine anything so hideous as a giant lidless eye." Sauron smirked and said, "Of course, then I would always have an 'eye' on things!"

Sauron laughed hysterically at his own joke and Morgan, disgusted, turned around and began to walk away. It took two full minutes for this to register with Sauron. Suddenly Morgan found himself face to face with the dark lord.

"I didn't say you could go." Sauron irately, "You're here for a reason you know."

Morgan, more then a little disgruntled by Sauron's appearance pushed past him saying, "I'm not playing your little games Sauron. Leave me alone."

Sauron didn't turn around but said, "You are going to 'play' my games whether you want to or not." Sauron tapped the golden ring on his finger and said, "If you don't want something to happen to your 'little' family."

Morgan paused, "What do you mean?" He turned to the dark lord. Sauron didn't look up but continued admiring his ring as the sun flashed off of it.

"Oh, come now, Morgan. When dealing with an evil, nefarious dark lord, you can expect nothing short of torture and death." he said dryly.

The young man gauged the distance between himself and Sauron's unguarded back. Slowly hefting an large rock into his hand he asked

"What do I have to do?"

"Oh, nothing much, just completing certain…tasks while I sit back and watch."

Morgan hurled the rock directly at Sauron's dark head. A few inches before contact, it stopped, and hovered in the air. The Maia turned slowly around, pitying contempt written all over his white face.

"A rock? Really, Morgan, I would have expected something at least slightly more inventive then-" the stone dropped to the ground "This… the Human mind is so primitive, or I should say, babyish."

"Oh, thanks, I feel so special." Morgan shot back.

"I don't care." Sauron sighed heavily, as if he had been trying to explain something tom a very obstinate mule "However, you'll find I don't care about anything concerning human welfare.

A cold silence fell between them. Useless adrenaline raced through Morgan's veins as he tried to calculate this maniac's next move. If had been anyone else, a flying tackle would have been appropriate, but something in his opponent's flat red eyes warned him off. They blinked suddenly, and Sauron straightened up, adjusting his crisp jacket with a business like gesture.

"My first rule." he said, voice suddenly deathly quiet "Is to, as you would put it, mess with your mind. Everything you think you know is now useless."

Then suddenly the afternoon darkened, the beautiful landscape fading to blurry blacks and greys. All light seemed to draw into itself, to shrivel and die.

"Dear God!"

Half prayer, half ejaculation, Morgan's words seemed to do something. In an explosion of blinding color and the lyrical singing of birds, the world resumed it's normal course. Light had returned, as if it had never gone, the sun beamed down benevolently on the frantic young man.

But Sauron was gone.

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"I'm Lieutenant Brian Morrison, ma'am. I'd just like to ask you couple questions."

The officer said and flipped open his wallet to display an ugly ID picture. The blurry photograph barely resembled the sharp-featured, brown eyed officer who had been called in to investigate the mysterious kidnapping of Morgan Van Pels.

"Come right inside" Phyllis Van Pels gave a weak laugh "Police officers have been crawling all over the house since…" she trailed off awkwardly.

"Not a problem, ma'am, standard form." he said "This is Officer Lumley-" he nodded to a very tall man who stood by his side "And Officer Wallace, he'll probably be asking your daughter most of the questions."

The three men stepped into the house, Officer Lumley ducking under the doorway followed by Officer Wallace, a shorter, more slender man with a clipboard tucked under one arm.

Lieutenant Brian looked around the living room and his eyes rested on the teen girl curled up in an armchair. She stared off into space and her face was tear streaked and pale. Her arms were wrapped protectively around her shoulders, and she rocked gently back and forth.

Phyllis Val Pels touched her arm

"Honey." she said gently "These men are from the police department, they're going to be asking you a lot of questions, so you should try to remember as much as you can, ok?"

"Can you find Morgan?" was Anne's only response.

"We can try." Lieutenant Brian answered carefully. "Officer Wallace is our sketch artist. You can tell him what this man looked like, and it would be a big help if we had a picture of your brother's abductor."

Officer Wallace smiled and sat near, but too near for the frightened girl. Flipping open his pad he waited, pencil poised for Anne to begin. She unfolded herself a little and said, "I don't think you understand this wasn't any normal guy. He was…different."

"What do you mean?" Morrison asked. He sat and Lumley stood behind him, "Do you mean he was of a different ethnic background?"

"No." she shook her head decidedly. "He wasn't anything…he was like a non-person."

"Anne, can you tell me exactly what that means?" Officer Wallace asked quietly. "Was he black, white? Mexican?"

"He had a white face, really pale, like a vampires. It was weird you know, I only saw him for a second, but I remember his face like I knew him all my life."

"Tell me about his face Anne, did he have a big nose or thick eyebrows? That kind of thing." Wallace encouraged.

Anne shuddered again and Phyllis sat down beside her and wrapped her arms around her daughter, "Go on sweetheart."

"Red eyes."

Officer Wallace shook his head in confusion

"You mean…" he began

"Just that. He had red eyes, bright red."

All the men leant forward at this interesting point. "What do you mean Anne, were they blood shot? Like he was drunk or something like that?" Wallace asked next.

"No." she answered, "His eyes, the iris was red, like your eyes" she pointed at Wallace "are blue. His were red.

"Might have been contacts." Lieutenant Brian offered "People can get those easily enough."

"No! They were red, naturally." Anne stated with a frown at Morrison. "I know what I saw!"

"It's all right Anne, please go on. Tell me about his mouth and nose." Wallace said, his softly accented voice helping the girl calm down.

All afternoon the officer worked on a portrait of the man who had kidnapped Morgan Van Pels. He worked quickly and his pen flew over the paper creating a perfect face.

Lieutenant Morrison had taken Mrs. Van Pels into another room to get further information on the missing man.

"Tell me about your son ma'am. What kind of young man was he?" Morrison clicked his pen open

"Morgan was always a good boy." she began, "I've never had any trouble from him."

"What kind of thing was he involved in?" Lieutenant Morrison asked next. "What were his interests?"

"What has that got to do with it?" Phyllis asked.

"Ma'am, often a kidnapper will try and make some kind of contact with their target before moving ahead. He would have at least followed him home to be able to now his name and your daughter."

Phyllis glanced around the dining room nervously as if she expected red-eyed men to sprang from the walls. "Well, he was finishing off his college work and seriously considering the church for his profession."

"Church? What kind exactly?" the officer's writing sprawled across the page as he took notes.

"We're Catholic. Morgan was thinking of becoming a priest." she laughed "I told him I would rather have grandkids but he said he felt like God was calling him into service. Not much I could say against that."

"I guess not. Did he have many friends?"

"Oh yes, Morgan was a very popular boy at school and college. But he was careful, he never hung around with the rowdier types" Mrs. Van Pels tapped her right first finger against the table to emphasize her point.

"Could you possibly make a list of his closest friends names and addresses? One of them might have some information that would be helpful." The Lieutenant snapped his notebook shut.

"I can, but officer, we're not dealing with the norm here. That man vanished like Houdini from the house. I'm sure he wasn't there when I came home, and I know that you haven't found evidence of a break in.'

Morrison sighed, "That's true, but you have to understand the difficulty of our position ma'am."

"Yes, I suppose you don't deal in disappearing criminals everyday." she gave a few dry chuckles. "Listen lieutenant, I want protection. I won't be able to sleep if that…person can just get in and out of the house with impunity."

"I understand ma'am. I'll see what I can do about that." he stood and together they walked into the living room where both Wallace and Anne were staring at the sketchpad.

"Any progress?" Morrison asked. For some reason his voice sounded too loud for the room. Wallace looked up and his blue eyes were wide and serious.

"Yes." He handed the pad to Morrison and Mrs. Van Pels looked over his shoulder to glance the portrait.

A thin faced man looked back at them, his handsome features smiling. But the smile held a hint of a mocking sneer, as if he were laughing at some particularly private and very cruel joke. Dominating the portrait however, were the eyes that glowed a deep, malicious red.

"My God!' Mrs. Van Pels gasped, "It's him!"

Morrison swallowed and covered the face, "Anne, is this the man you saw?"

"Yes, that's him exactly." she buried her face in her hands and began to cry again. "Please find my brother! Please, don't let him hurt Morgan!"