I know there are many stories about the death
of Frodo's parents. I myself have written about it before and a friend of mine
is also writing a story with the same topic at the moment. But this story is based
(I know it seems very odd and indeed it is) on a dream ... or should I say a nightmare?
... well, you'll see.
I dreamed it four times in the last eight weeks. I knew it would only stop if I write the words down that flow into my mind while sleeping. And because I do not wish to wake up in the morning, being more tired than when I went to bed, I wrote ;)
I wonder what you'll think about it.
Rating: PG-13 ... just to be sure
A Light from the Shadow shall spring
Grey mist covered the meadows. Fog patches crept through the forest altering the trees into some ghost-like figures looming up in the distance. Heavy, dark clouds hung in the sky ominously. It wouldn't be long before they would burst and fill the world with rain.
There were no songs this morning like on other days. Even the birds had stopped their merry twitter. Nothing could be heard except the low sighing of the wind that rustled in the last autumn leaves which were dancing their farewell before finally reaching the ground, where they would lie still and die.
A cracking noise could be heard when many feet were stepping on the grass, still covered with frost. With every crack he winced. It must stop. It had to, or it would destroy him. He didn't want to hear the cracking. He didn't want to see the dewdrops that were settling in his and the others' hair, or the haze covering the entire world about him. He didn't want any of it. It was a nightmare and it had to stop. Now!
But it didn't end. Pain never ceased. It endured and in the end it devoured everything. His eyes, fixed on the ground suddenly turned towards the sky. Swarthy, sombre, menacing. A black pool engulfing everything. The trees had already been swallowed, the forest was gone. Even the mist he didn't recognize anymore. There was only blackness.
Dizziness overcame him. He
swayed. The undulating black pool moved ever closer, engulfing him. He was drowning,
dying! He choked, gasping for breath.
He didn't hear the sighing of the wind anymore, didn't feel its cold fingers stroking his cheek. There was nothing but blackness, devouring, engulfing, drowning. A single raindrop touched his cheek.