Moving On

Chapter 8

Her heart pounded in her ears. The shrieking, it made her skin crawl. The shadow of death leered over her in her thoughts but she didn't have time to think about it now. She had to focus on running. The overwhelming urge to run, run away from the danger. She was indeed thankful that her body was in better shape than when she arrived. Starting out she had no endurance for it at all and at home she couldn't even run around the block without wanting to pass out.

As the fellowship ran Gandalf led them down a corridor and he didn't let up his pace, it anything they pushed on faster. From the shadows there were hundreds of creatures swarming them, urging them to run harder and faster to not be encircled by them.

Samantha ran and looked at the back of Gandalf's head. She knew why he didn't want to come down here now. But, he knew the way out, everything would be fine. He would lead them out of danger. He was the rock of their group at that point, even though Frodo held the ring, it was Gandalf that gave the direction. And it was Gandalf that knew Samantha's secret. She looked up to him and respected him like a wise old uncle of sorts. With an all-powerful wizard, what could go wrong?

Thinking back to middle school she applied the 'One-two-three' method of breathing. Three seconds in, three seconds out. It helped her regulate her breathing when she started feeling her muscles burning. Proper breathing was key to running. Her Physical Education teachers were completely right about that. Thinking about her breathing was much better than the alternative. Pending death by being eaten alive or tortured or worse. Against this many, there was no way any of them would survive. She didn't want to think about her friends being killed in anyway. She knew the men of the group wouldn't let her or the hobbits be touched, but there was no way they could defend them against this many.

Eventually, they couldn't run fast enough and the creatures entrapped them.

'Breathe.' Samantha told herself. 'Just breathe.'

Weapons were raised as they all prepared themselves for the worst. Samantha's hands were trembling as they held her sword. She looked into their eyes, the malice there ensuring her that it would be a slow and painful death. A sudden realization struck her, she was a woman, there could potentially be far worse things they would do to her before she died. She prayed for a swift death and closed her eyes.

She gasped when she felt a hand shove her further back into the circle they had created. Her eyes snapped open and she looked at Boromir. His eyes were like stone and sweat dripped from his brow. His labored breathing almost in time with everyone else. This man had seen battle many times before, but that didn't make Samantha any more confident in their survival. There seemed to be no way out.

Suddenly, a growl from deep within the mines made all of their heads turn. The orcs around them started to shuffle and their once gleeful and murderous eyes looked petrified. They shrieked in fear before bolting. Leaving the fellowship there to look down the great hall. They could all feel a presence, it made every hair on their body stand on end.

An eerie orange glow radiated from far within the chamber, and seemed to be moving closer. Legolas stiffened and looked down the hall in terror. His father had told him of such beasts. How they were the embodiment of shadow and flame. He knew they couldn't linger, but he was stuck in position as fear made his heart beat faster and faster.

Boromir turned to Gandalf, and that's when they saw the look on Gandalfs face. Gandalf's face was one of doom.

'Oh, we are fucked.' Samantha thought.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked the wizard. His voice shaking slightly.

Gandalf looked down and closed his eyes to gather his thoughts for a moment before looking back up. "A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!"