Seven Feet Under (A LOTR novel)

Chapter 5: Dark Fear

"Kal, you need to go now!" Bran shouts to me, his gaze whipping back and forth from my crying form to the approaching raiders.

Night has only just fallen, and the only light comes from the waning moon above. It casts a faint glow on everything; barely enough for me to see by.

"I don't want to leave you!" I sob.

If it were not for the stabs of pain on the bottoms of my shoeless feet, I would pray this is only a dream. I watch, frozen in a trace-like state of horror as the raiders cut down people I had befriended over the years in this place. In such a short amount of time they manage to destory everything.

Why are they even here? This place is so secluded from all others, so why come out so far? The very reason I was here was because it's far enough from other civilizations that no one should come looking for me.

"They will kill you if they find you; you have to go!" Bran yells as me desperately, trying to scare me into running.

"Come with me then." I beg him, but I know he won't. He will not abandon the others, and I shouldn't either.

I run though; I turn towards the surrounding woods and take off, not sparing another glance over my shoulder as I nimbly slip through the undergrowth. I tell myself repeatedly that this is what I should do, that running is the right choice to make. After all, Bran had told me to.

There is no way for me to outrun the screams of the dying that play on repeat in my head though. That stays with me as I push myself harder, faster. The cries of pain keep up though; I can't escape from my own head. The sound seems to be mocking me, taunting me with the pain that it holds. It's such a horrible fate, something too terrible to think about.

Then I realize, I am a hypocrite. I have the chance to help them, to change a fate parallel to that of my family, yet I am running. I can't do that.

Before I can even really come to terms with my new decision, I'm sprinting back the way I had come. I have no idea where this new source of energy has come from, it seems to have been formed by pure desperation.

I barely feet the violent pain in my feet from sprinting barefoot through the underbrush; the only emotion that registers is desperation. I fly through the forest, moving much more quickly now than I had been in running away. I would risk stretching out my wings to fly, but it would waste precious time getting to the top of the canopies in the trees.

My breath is coming out in short gasps as I near the village once again, and I slow down only slightly before pausing at the edge of the woods.

It takes every part of me not to scream; in the middle of the village square is Bran's head is on a spike.

I wake up actually screaming, my voice disturbing the silence in the dead of night. I quickly shut myself up, realizing that none of it had been real.

I curl my legs up to my chest and securely wrap my arms around them. My breathing is still ragged, and my eyes dart around the small cell I am in.

"It was nothing, it was nothing." I try to convince myself.

But it wasn't nothing.