Leventis ⚜ Thorin Oakenshield

Chapter 18 : Dreamless

Casadon Erik's P.O.V.

An elven maid, stepped into my room. She dressed me in light blue nightgown; it was backless. Meaning that when I begin to lie down the sheets of the cedar bed would be crisp and strike a layer of ice on my bare back and shoulder. You can see some scars. Some. With thin, pale and deathly-looking off-the-shoulder straps. Though after the maiden left my quarters, my lungs exhaled deeply and it was like it could be heard from the depths of Mordor.

I get into the snowflake bed. The balcony doors are as open as arms; to let the wind pass through and share its regards. Yet, the sheets are light and flimsy. It's hot, but it goes to a temperature to what feels like it's below freezing point. My back and shoulders have been spiked with a thick layer of coldness. It'll be warm soon. And I'll be comfy. I feel like i'm home.

I feel a blanket of grave darkness as I lay on my side, facing the balcony with night sky shining through. Not a blanket of warm, which is currently over me; protecting me from any incoming intruders, but it is a blanket of deep coldness. The question that runs through every bodies mind when they close their eyes. Will I ever wake up to see the light of day, again? My eyes feel heavy and begin to become heavier and heavier.

My dream will dreamless.

*

The cold was evil. An unavoidable irritation. The floor pressed against my legs, as I am curious on why my pale legs were visible. To the world. The air was somewhat a thick black mist, there was o light nor torch to shed one goddamn bit of light. To help those eyes, perceive the journey. What journey. I reach my hand out to touch the black fog. Everything was veiled, and I couldn't see a thing. I begin to see silhouettes of terrible, terrible things. I feel the glacial legs of the fog crawl up the back of my hand. The fog opens a clearing, for someone to walk through. I step forward slightly, my foot pressuring the frigid rocks.

Something jumps out of the dark, mysterious fog.

It frightens me so much, that I fall back on the more so frigid rocks of the ground, landing on the back of my skull. I wince from the agonising pain. Then I scramble back. For protecting. I'm leaning against of decaying walls of pitch black stones, miraculously piled upon another. As if someone or something hired newborn babies to build these walls. There are holes in these walls, empty gaps, where the stones don't align.

The 'something' that jumped out of the fog, is too tall to be any species walking somewhat peacefully around Middle Earth. Its skin is whiter than mine. Walking swiftly towards my soon to be corpse. I know death when I see it. I can't scramble back any further. God dammit!

I squint my eyes to get a closer look of this tall figure, that happens to be walking towards me. Wait. It had three vertical scars on each slide of the face, its ears are pointed, as are it canines. It hideous striking blue eyes. The one arm with the weapon pierced through its arm and the red, daunting scars on its bare chest. I know that-that-THING! That son of a bitch.

Azog the defiler.

I breathing out of pure panic. I have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I was alone, with the worst demon from hell. Rising my head, back against the rocks, to attempt and fail to keep my distance. I feel a frozen layer of shock consuming me.

"Casadon Erik," Azog growls my name in the Black Speech. I can understand every syllable he speaks in his foul mouth.

I breath heavily as he kneels on his knee. My legs are squished against my torso. He reaches out his only good arm and wraps his claws around my calf. I gasp shockingly as my breathing becomes a dramatic pant for help. I tried grabbing the a stone of the small that was the height of me but sitting down. My grip was weak. Azog just straightened my leg and then he straighten my other leg. I was speechless. Consumed with unwanted fear. He grinned, showing his decay in his mouth. His finger traced down a scar on my leg. His fingerprints were rough and I was frighten he would cut me with his sharp, filled-with-dirt nails.

"I remember giving this to you. Casadon," The pale orc, smirked as he looks me dead in the eye.

I can't move in this motionless form of myself. Oh god, I'm going to dead. What is this reality?

The orc continues : "When you were weak, and when I eradicated the Huntress."

His black speech makes every bone in my body shatter to pieces. It repeated itself. History had repeated. I felt every bone in my body when the Huntress died, break. Azog is still, tracing his fingers down every individual crease of skin of the scars I possessed scattered over my legs. I felt the cold sow a needle and thread through my toes and around my ankle. It prickles my skin. It makes them go numb. Where they to fall off?

"Casadon, you know why I've come," Azog breaths. He leans closer and closer until our noses could b be touching. I can smell his repulsive, lurking breath of fresh and rotten flesh. His grin is enough to scars full grown men.

I couldn't answer him. I was scared. More terrified of life that I'd ever be.

"To end what I have started."

Hands came throughout the holes of the wall. Several of them latch onto my arms, holding them against the walls. So i couldn't move. I look down at my arms. The hand are thin and anorexic. They're dead. Areas in where the skin had fully decayed away, showing a creamy, ivory rock of bone and the dry crimson that outlined the insignificant patches of bone. The skin was blistered, contaminated with pus, some had boils and I look back and forth from each arm. I hear my heart thump. Because my heads was rushing from side to side and I even tried to escape, a latches itself around my neck, so I wasn't able to move. I mean, I felt like I had forgotten to walk but now I feel like I can only move my eyes and perceive the torture I was about to endure. Each had sharp, blade-like nails that was dig into my skin. I couldn't scream and when I tried the hand latched around my dainty neck would begin to stick its nails in the back of my neck whilst strangling my soul out of me.

Azog stands up turns around. "This is the end of an era." He cheers in the black speech. Its unclear who he is talking too. Or is he being that cocky, that he has to shout to the air that he breathed? He head cocks a 45 degree as he give me an deathening stare. His legs legs pace towards me, his only good arm reaching for my the middle of my chest. I begin to breath as if I was crying, but the hand around my neck strangles me and I begin to gasp for the dark air. Azog puts his claws into my chest. I feel my mouth opening.

And he takes out my heart.

"Don't let him win," A voice whisper as I begin to wither away, with a hole through my chest.

And I recognize it immediately.

*

Heyyyyy!

I told ya I'd be writing more :) I cut this chapter short because I just wasn't motivated enough to write the rest...

Anyways:

BYE MOTHER-FRYING-PANS