Six Days of Spooky
Oct. 31st, 2009 02:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
illwyndSome New Terror
Disclaimer: All Tolkien's!
Rating: PG
Summary: Under the eaves of Mirkwood, a new terror appears.
X-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spooky_arda
The sound of weeping—sobs and sighing breaths broken by high soft keening—emanated from the cluster of small furtive dwellings among the dark trees. Those who lived in this place now huddled behind bolted doors and shuttered windows, beset by grief and fear. These were not strangers to folk here, under the very eaves of Mirkwood where twilight lingered and shadows crept, but now some new terror lurked, bringing new grief.
Behind the walls of one rough, simple house, a small body lay wrapped in a bare cloth. The child’s mother sat, weak and empty, face tear-streaked, beside the small bed. There, that morning, the child had been found. Its throat had been torn and gnawed, but little blood had dripped to the bedclothes.
This death had come only days after another. A child of only a few months of age had been stolen from the cradle by night, and nothing had been found of it since.
Several of the men had gone into the forest then, seeking for the murderer. They had found strange signs; birds that screamed as they passed, as if maddened, and small beasts that seemed to wander lost all about their nests and burrows. The broken shells of eggs were found below the branches, and bits of fur and sinew clung to the bark of one hoary tree.
But no glimpse of the new terror that haunted Mirkwood did they see, but for a brief dark flash that might have been no more than a squirrel.
Disclaimer: All Tolkien's!
Rating: PG
Summary: Under the eaves of Mirkwood, a new terror appears.
X-posted to
spooky_ardaThe sound of weeping—sobs and sighing breaths broken by high soft keening—emanated from the cluster of small furtive dwellings among the dark trees. Those who lived in this place now huddled behind bolted doors and shuttered windows, beset by grief and fear. These were not strangers to folk here, under the very eaves of Mirkwood where twilight lingered and shadows crept, but now some new terror lurked, bringing new grief.
Behind the walls of one rough, simple house, a small body lay wrapped in a bare cloth. The child’s mother sat, weak and empty, face tear-streaked, beside the small bed. There, that morning, the child had been found. Its throat had been torn and gnawed, but little blood had dripped to the bedclothes.
This death had come only days after another. A child of only a few months of age had been stolen from the cradle by night, and nothing had been found of it since.
Several of the men had gone into the forest then, seeking for the murderer. They had found strange signs; birds that screamed as they passed, as if maddened, and small beasts that seemed to wander lost all about their nests and burrows. The broken shells of eggs were found below the branches, and bits of fur and sinew clung to the bark of one hoary tree.
But no glimpse of the new terror that haunted Mirkwood did they see, but for a brief dark flash that might have been no more than a squirrel.
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