Lady~Arwen
February 15th,2003, 07:06 PM
Sam stood over Frodo, the kingsfoil herb wasn't working and the Nazgul where getting closer. A tear grew in Sam's eye until it slowly trickled down his cheek. He wiped it away. Frodo was growing weaker and weaker. His eyes has grown icy-blue, his skin pale as the clouds on a warm summer day, and his hands as cold as snow falling gently on a cold winters day. Merry, not looking. The pain was too much for him. He stood, occasionally glancing at Frodo, he wondered to himself, "How could this happen? Just days ago he was happy and safe, now he is slowly dieing. Why?” Pippin seemed to have the hardest time dealing with it, he wasn't happy, as he once was. He kneeled next to Frodo, holding his hand, and not looking up. He kept chanting, "Frodo, be strong. The Shire needs you, we need you, and I, I need you.” He couldn't stand to see his cousin dieing before his very eyes. Sam's crying became worse as Frodo grew weaker and weaker. Strider was sitting and leaning against a tree, his eyes closed, a tear went down his face. Frodo's breathing grew weaker and harder, he had only moments left. Pippin and Sam's cries grew worse, "Frodo! Don't leave us, you can't do this to us!” Merry couldn't stand it, his hands clenching with anger, "How can this happen?!” Frodo slowly drew his last breath of air, his eyes closing, his cries coming to a stop, his chest stopped moving, his body now limp and not moving. He was dead. Dead. It seemed like a dream, no, a nightmare. It was not real, this couldn't be happening they kept telling themselves. It was reality, he was dead. Sam screamed, "No! No! No!” his hand in a fist, hitting the ground. Pippin bit his lip and closed his eyes, then it came. He started crying, to him it was the end of the world. Merry closed his eyes and said to Strider, "We should burry him. The Wraiths are gaining on us.” Strider replied in a whisper, "Merry is right. We must hurry,” Pippin walked to the tree, banging his head on it in anger. Sam replied, "I know. Its just so hard to believe." and Strider walked to Bill the Pony and took out a shovel. "You should do it, you where his best friend, you are good with soil, " he said, slowly handing it to him. Sam dug the hole, slowly filling it back up. He laid his best pot in top in the soil, "For you," he whispered. Pippin couldn't look. Strider grabbed Bill, getting ready to leave. Merry looked at the ground, not saying anything and got on Bill. They left. The next day they set up camp once again. Strider got the fire started. Pippin didn't say anything, he hadn't all day, nor did he since Frodo died. Merry sat down next to Pippin, "Its ok, Pip, we all miss him." Still he didn't say a word. Sam looked at the fire, acting as if he didn't hear a word of it, though he did. "I will gather some firewood,” he said quickly. He walked into the woods. The day was growing into night and the sun was fading fast. He soon was heading back, the moon was his only light. He almost had reached camp, that was, until he heard a rustle in the leaves below his feet, "Hello? Strider? Pip? Merry? This isn’t Funny!” "Oh, but it is," a voice replied. Somehow it seemed family and reassuring, and yet it wasn't. Sam dared not say a word, but looked around, as if to see Strider or a hobbit. A figure appeared before him, though it wasn't Pippin, Merry, or Strider. Its clothes ragged and torn, it was about the same height as him. Sam looked at the figure and at the ground, a cloak lay on the ground. Not any cloak, the cloak Frodo was wearing as he died, as he was burried. That was at least twenty miles away! Sam grabbed it, horrified, and looked back at the figure, it was not wearing a cloak. "Samwise, dear Samwise Gamgee. So young, so arrogant," it chuckled, "You cannot hide. Join him, join the dark lord. He will give you power unimaginable.” Another chuckle. Sam knew who it was, and yet, it seemed impossible. "Frodo, don't do it. You are dead. You can't be here. The dark lord is evil!" "Samwise Gamgee! I am here. I am dead! You killed me! It was you, your fault. Join him now. Sauron can help you, though. We can be together, as we once where." Frodo said, now inching closer, Sam could now see his face. It was covered in dirt, mud, and blood from his cuts. A spider crawled out of his hair and down his leg into the dirt. Sam shook his head, “No, no, no!” he said slowly backing away. He backed into something. Frodo no longer stood in front of him. Frodo held him tightly, somehow towering over him. His sword against his throat, his hands had grown cold and slimy, and his voice full of anger, malice, and hatred. Hatred for him, hatred for the Shire, hatred for everything, everyone. Suddenly they where at the camp, Sam couldn’t speak, it was as if his vocal chords had been snatched from his throat. Strider rose with his sword almost immediately. Pippin looked at Frodo, “Frodo? Is it really you?” He was suddenly aware of Frodo now being evil. Merry grabbed Pippin,trying to restrain him, Pippin was trying to run to Frodo. Before anyone could say anything else, Frodo tightened his grip on Sam. “Idiots. Foolish, arrogant idiots. You left me there to die. Now, I want you to feel how I felt. You know nothing of pain or suffering. I will kill you all off one by one,” his eyes looked at each one of them, “starting with our dear friend, Samwise.” He tightened his grip on his sword and sliced Sam’s throat, blood spilled. He was dead. Frodo set down his sword into the thick, bloodcovered grass and looked at Merry, showing no emotion. Merry looked at Frodo, his face horrified. Frodo’s cold, icy hands wrapped around Merry’s neck, Frodo was chocking him. Merry tried to break free but it was no use. He wiggled, trying to get out of this, until he eyes closed, dead he was. In a moment Frodo had once again his sword in his hand. He threw Pippin on the ground. He had him pinned, for Pippin could not do anything, he was in total shock. Frodo's eyes looked at Pippin, his sword stabbing him in the chest. Over and Over, he was dead long before Frodo took his sword out. Strider looked around at what was. He would have ran away, though he knew if he ran to Rivendell, or to any town, he was putting people's lives in danger. For Frodo now wanted nothing more than to kill them all. Strider wondered what would become of Frodo. Would he become a full RingWraith? Frodo looked at Strider once again. Though then he walked to Bill. His cries where heard through the woods, Wraiths would surely find them. The horse now lay dead on the ground. The blood soaking into the ground. Frodo looked into the woods, he senced them, he knew the Wraiths where close. Frodo then reached through the blood and into the pack that once laid on Bill and took out a rope. Strider backed away and bumped into a tree. Frodo now stood behind him, he quickly tied the ropes, binding Strider to the tree. It was now impossable to move. Frodo shouted something, though he spoke in the toungue of Nazgul, dark language. Strider couldn't translate it completely, but to him it sounded as if Frodo has shouted, "Come and Get Him! Fresh Man flesh!". Now you could hear the hooves beating on the ground as they got closer. Frodo wondered if Strider could get away. Yes, he told himself. Frodo took up his sword and sliced his shoulder and face, blood rushing everywhere. He was leaving him there to die, to face the torture of the Nazgul. His grip tightened on his bloody sword as he walked off into the fog…