Hello everyone, I have arrived with a new chapter of Doom of the Ring. The quarantine due to the coronavirus has given me a lot of free time recently, hence the new chap being quicker than before. I hope you enjoy it.

As always, I own nothing.

Don't forget to review, pls.

Shoutout to my Beta Darkfyat

Erebs: Well I am glad you liked it. And I hope you continue to enjoy this.

The rain poured hard as night fell upon the small forest on the southern border in the Kingdom of Rohan. The small stream that divided the forest in two ran red and black with the blood of the fallen that littered the ground. The corpses of fallen Rohirrim and their faithful steeds mixed with the dead orcs of Isengard and lesser demons of Hell.

And among the carnage, a pile of dead orcs and Imps began to stir, until the bodies shifted around to reveal a young Rohirrim man with shoulder length raven hair. The young man of light complexion and bearing ornate armor conveying his royal status hesitantly stood up from his previous position. As the prince then gazed around the soaked and corpse-stren clearing, he remained dazed, unsure of what to even think.

That is, until an onslaught of memories assailed him.

His company...ambushed by orcs of Isengard. The vicious fighting. The nightmarish creatures that soon joined.

Orcs were predictable creatures, but these new beasts fought with a brutality and speed that he and his men were woefully unprepared for.

As the cries of agony his men gave out echoed through his mind once more, an overwhelming rage began to overtake him. He felt rage at himself, for failing those who trusted him to lead them. But mostly he hated Isengard and its wizard Saruman, whose legions brought all this pain and suffering to his homeland.

In a fit of rage, he backhanded a nearby orc corpse, sending it into a nearby tree, where the impact shattered its trunk and sent it crashing down behind him. This, however, went unnoticed by Prince Theodred, as his attention was fixed on the far ridge, where to his relief, another company of Rohirrim, led by his cousin Eomer rode towards him. And as they rode closer, a mixture of relief and confusion was etched on Eomer's face as he spoke. "Theodred, it is good to know that you still live."

With that, Eomer dismounted from his horse and moved to embrace his cousin, who gladly returned the greeting. "The feeling is mutual, dear cousin."

After a few moments passed, Eomer then broke the embrace and gazed around the area, horror and confusion on his face as he spoke. "What manner of creature would cause such devastation?"

Theodred's answer was to merely overturn the lifeless body of a scraggly creature of blood-red complexion. It possessed a bone-like physical structure and a hard exterior that seemed to serve as some sort of natural armor. Its scrawny limbs gave way to razor claws that were still caked in the blood of fallen Rohirrim. It's facial features consisted of sunken cheeks that led to a set of small and elongated jaws filled with razor teeth sharp as swords. A set of dull, feral, yellow eyes filled its sockets and despite being lifeless, they filled Eomer with a sense of dread as the prince spoke. "The orcs were of little consequence, but these creatures, along with others, proved too much for us. I too had been downed by them until mere moments ago. I admit, I thought to have perished at their claws, though I certainly do not question my good fortune."

It was at this moment that a nearby Rohirrim spat on an orc corpse before speaking with fury. "Mordor will pay for this!"

At this statement, Eomer used his foot to turn another dead orc onto its back, revealing the iconic white hand of Saruman painted on its crude helmet. "These orcs are not from Mordor."

This revelation gave the men of Rohan a feeling of unbridled fury and dread at the same time, until another Rohirrim of older age cried out as he gazed into the eastern forest. "More of those creatures are coming towards us!"

True to his word, around a dozen of the scrawny creatures dashed through the trees. They were supported by five larger brutes, easily bigger than a full-grown man, and possessing a white-armored exoskeleton. Their facial structures were similar to that of their smaller comrades, and each of them had one arm grotesquely morphed around some kind of strange tube.

Without warning, the tubes began unleashing bright orbs of cerulean light that sailed across the clearing and into a trio of Rohirrim and their horses. The horses cried out in pain as their flesh burned and sizzled, causing them to fall over and throw off their riders, whose armor melted into their flesh and killing them. In those few seconds, the rest of the horses began to panic, while their riders scrambled to bring their weapons to bear. A handful of Rohirrim managed to ready their bows and loosed a small volley of arrows, though only one of the smaller creatures fell due to a lucky shot to its eye socket. Unfortunately, for the Rohirrim, the distance was closed shortly afterwards.

With a sudden clash, man and monster met.

Swords and axes found their way into hardened and corrupted flesh, and riders were thrown from their mounts, their bodies torn open in great displays of brutality. Eomer, having drawn a shield and axe in time, expertly dispatched two of the creatures with shield bases and chops to their necks.

Theodred, on the other hand, cut down two more of the creatures before charging at their larger counterparts with newfound strength in his body. Along the way, he picked up a fallen axe in his left hand and threw it at one of the brutes, the weapon lodging itself into the beast's skull. A few moments later, he closed the distance, effortlessly dodging further orbs of light until he plunged his sword into the throat of another brute. He then retrieved the axe from the skull it was embedded in before swinging it at the neck of a third, using the body of the second to shield himself from the survivors' attacks. He then tossed the body to the side and charged, caving the skull of one with a left hook and beheading the other with his sword. With the large brutes dealt with, he threw the axe into a smaller creature that was attempting to pounce at a distracted Eomer.

With the last of them felled, the battle ended as quickly as it began, but the damage was already done.

The company of Rohirrim had been reduced to half of its original strength with a third of them being bodily wounded. The cries of the wounded men and horses mixed with the patter of the rain. Their blood leaked into the mud as the prince made his way back. "Get the wounded on horses and return to Edoras with all haste. Warn them of what's coming. Leave the dead."

Having given the necessary orders, he then turned to Eomer with a calm yet tired look. "And can you let Father know that I'm alright?'

Eomer was taken aback by this request and immediately voiced his protests. "Theodred, you are not going out there alone."

"I must go Eomer. I must avenge those that have fallen here."

"You are not the only one that wishes to do so. Besides, look at you! Your armor's beaten and torn and you're wounded as well. You are in no condition to fight! Rohan does not need its prince dying in a fruitless quest for vengeance and your death will do these men no good."

Realizing that he had a point, Theodred let off a tired sigh. "You may be right Eomer. Let us depart then."

With that, the two men aided the surviving Rohirrim in placing the wounded onto the horses before mounting their own.

Then, with preparations complete, the men of Rohan began the journey to Edoras, not a single one of them aware of the events that would soon befall Middle Earth.

XXXXX

The night was calm...peaceful within the grasslands and forests of the eastern corner in the Shire, undisturbed save for a light fog on the ground. The Doomslayer casually strolled through, keeping an eye out for any more of the black-hooded riders and any demons that might cross his path.

He was surprised with the lack of greater demons currently in this world, but he was not going to question his good fortune. This development merely entailed that he had greater chances of finding the source of this incursion and destroying it. His train of thought was suddenly interrupted when he felt a strange feeling overtake him, as if a being of rage, both strange and familiar, was 'born,' much like he was. "Interesting."

The snap of a twig drew Doom's attention towards a cluster of bushes to his right, realizing then and there that the man following him was not as stealthy as he might think. True, any normal man would remain completely unaware of his presence, but the Doomslayer was no normal man and he decided to end this farce. "Alright, this has gone on long enough. Come on out from behind the bushes."

Complying with his demand, a man who appeared to be only just past his prime but no less physically capable rose from the bushes.

He was clad in a black coat draped over a medieval outfit of a tunic, pants, leather boots and a belt of black. He was armed with a broadsword and a dagger strapped to his belt, along with a longbow and a quiver of arrows flung across his back. A look of confusion adorned his face as he spoke. "How did you know I was there?"

"Let's just say I'm not like the other fools you may have snuck up on in the past. I knew you were following me the whole time."

"Apologies, though I would ask if you were going to kill me now, if you wanted me dead, you would've done so by now."

"That depends on if you're with the Rider's I'm currently hunting. Covered in Black robes, demonic mounts, give off unholy screeches."

At that moment the air was pierced with a sickening screech that drew the duo's attention to the lone set of ruins that they could see. "Like That."

Whether the man heard or not, he gave no indication as he cried out in alarm. "The Nazgul, they're heading for Whethertop!"

Not needing to hear anymore, The Slayer broke into a dead sprint towards the ruin now known as Whethertop.

In the few seconds it took him to cover the distance, he ruminated on the name now given to the black-hooded riders. Nazgul? Why the hell is that name so damn familiar?

It seemed that he would have to wait for his answer for at the base of the ruin he arrived at, five of the Nazgul were practically flying up some stairs that he assumed led to the top. Deciding to take a less than conventional route, the Doomslayer took a running start, and with the help of the boosters built into his suit, jumped straight to the top ledge where he hoisted himself up. Ignoring the four stunned Hobbits in the center of the area, Doom turned his attention towards the edge where equally stunned Nazgul were climbing over. "Found you, assholes."

With that, the Doomslayer brought out his super shotgun and fired into one, sending the wraith flying off the ledge. Two more moved to attack him with their blades, but their efforts proved futile as they simply bounced off his armor. For their efforts, Doomslayer gut-punched one into a pillar and crotch-kicked the other before setting it alight with the plasma pistol. The fourth wraith attempted a back-stab, only for its blade to hit metal and for the Doomslayer's full attention to be brought onto it. And it was at that moment the Nazgul knew, it fucked up.

Without hesitation, the Doomslayer backhanded the wraith off the ledge, then turned his attention towards the last wraith. But unlike its kin, it decided to cut its losses and flee, screeching in a manner that sound suspiciously like 'Fuck this SHIT!'

With the immediate threat dealt with, Doom turned his attention towards the four Hobbits, whose looks ranged from curious to fearful. "You boys alright?"

Instead of responding, the four Hobbits pointed their swords at him and stepped away from him, visibly fearful of his presence, for in their eyes, he may be far worse than the wraiths that were there before. He moved to assure them that he was no threat, but at that moment, Doom noticed the small golden ring hanging from Frodo's neck. He began to hear faint yet harsh whispering in a language unknown to him. That is, until a series of flashbacks began to play across his eyes.

A dark mountain set on ashen plains, constantly spewing volcanic ash into the sky. A great clash of armies, one clean, ordered, and pure, the other crude and corrupted, upon these plains. And a massive being, clad in armor of the darkest shadow, and forged of pure malice whose name he now remembered. "Sauron."

It was then that Doom realized that he had closed the distance and was now kneeling in front of Frodo, but this sudden action provoked Sam into swinging his sword at him, prompting Doom to catch it with two of his fingers and snapping it in half before he realized what he did. "Apologies, reflexes." He then turned his head back towards the Ring hanging from Frodo's neck. "So the bastard still lives. Where did you find this ring?"

After some hesitance, Frodo responded with suspicion in his voice. "How do I know you're not one of the enemy?"

At that moment, Lily decided to hop out of the travel case and onto the Doomslayer's left shoulder, quickly diffusing the tension as Pippen reached out to scratch her ears. "Haha, she's a cute one, isn't she?"

Loving the feeling of having her ears scratched, she nuzzled her face into the Hobbit's hand as the others grew relaxed and slightly amused at this display, prompting the Doomslayer to speak once more. "Does that answer your question?"

"I suppose so, I apologize for my suspicions."

"Don't, I would've reacted the same way. So where are you heading to?"

"We are taking the Ring to the Elven city of Rivendell, where we are told Lord Elrond will handle it from there?"

This was a sufficient answer for the Doomslayer as he stood back up and spoke. "Then I'll help escort you there. There's a fuck ton of hostiles that'd love to get their hands on that thing."

He then turned towards Strider, who now stood behind him, and spoke with an annoyed tone in his voice. "And what the hell took you so long?"

And there you have it, I have dropped hints as to how Doomslayer is familiar with this world and how Sauron knows him, though I daresay they're rather obvious.

As for the Rohirrim vs. Demons skirmish, all I can say is I hope I did it justice and i'm still using the 'Theodred gets Slayer powers' idea.

As always, leave a review and I own nothing.