Musings of a Ranger: One Shots and Short Stories

Where the Tall Man Dwells: (Lord of the Rings Horror Short)

The trees cracked ominously in the wind, their dead branches grasping at the empty wind like the hands of an old man. The forest felt strangely empty, as though any creatures that had once dwelt within its boughs had fled.

A lone figure melted from shadow to shadow, its passing causing only a slight tremor of the dead leaves that coated the ground. The figure was cloaked in forest green, but it did little to hide him in the decaying browns and greys of the forest.

He too knew that something was wrong here. His senses tingled with an unplaceable fear, as if he were being watched.

And his senses were stronger than the ordinary man's. For he was an elf, and a skilled tracker at that. That was why he had been sent here, to the forsaken forest north of the Ettenmoors that had no name. His task was to discover who... or what, as the case may be, had been kidnapping children in the Breelands of late.
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Rivendell, three days prior

"Gwaleth, thank you for arriving in such haste," Lord Elrond said with a nod as he motioned for the scarred hunter to take a seat.

"Any further word of the kidnappings?" Gwaleth asked as he sat down slowly.

"Indeed there is. Two more kidnappings have occurred, further north. These children lived in a tavern in the Lone-Lands, and there were several strange happenings that occurred before they disappeared." Elrond spoke in a concerned tone of voice, and Gwaleth could see the slight twitch at the sides of Elrond's mouth that showed that the elven lord was nervous.

"Go ahead then, tell me," Gwaleth said. "I'll need more detailed information before I can hunt this... fugitive."

Elrond nodded and walked over to one of his many bookshelves. "The first thing that the innkeeper noticed was the lack of visitors that night. As if something was deliberately keeping them away."

"It could have been an unrelated coincidence," Gwaleth said. He was an analytically minded elf, and preferred to remove any coincidental factors from his hunt if at all possible.

"Perhaps, but the innkeeper also noted that it was dead silent outside that night. No birds, no wolves, nothing. Just a very slight breeze. But more importantly than that, the innkeeper noticed feathers outside his inn that afternoon. Evidently they were arranged in an unnatural pattern and taken from several different types of birds."

"Can't easily track a quarry without footprints. Were there any?"

"No," Elrond responded with a frown. "At least, not human tracks. There were the tracks of a large wolf that were seen in the area though."

"Could be relevant," Gwaleth said. "Though wolves rarely kidnap children, nor do they drag bodies away to eat them. They always eat where the kill was made."

"Indeed," Elrond agreed. "I suggest you go there yourself with all due haste. The scouts were good trackers, but none are as good as you."

"I'll go there at once," Gwaleth replied, not acknowledging the compliment. He knew it was true, but he wasn't one to stroke his own ego.
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Present, the nameless forest

And so Gwaleth had investigated the site of the disappearance. He could find little more than the scouts had, save for a strange charm-like object made of animal bones. It was shaped in the same pattern as the feathers had been according to the innkeeper. Gwaleth thought that it looked like the ancient portrayal of a moon; Crescent shaped and laying downward, with the points aiming up. He knew from past history lessons that many of Morgoth's minions had adopted that symbol, but he doubted that there was a connection. After all, it had been thousands of years since Morgoth walked Middle Earth.

His only true lead had been the now-fading "wolf" tracks. Upon closer inspection, Gwaleth had determined that the tracks were much too large to be a wolf... unless perhaps it were a dire wolf or a warg. They lead northeast, over the Ettenmoors and into the forest that the elven hunter was now standing in.

The place hadn't seemed so bad from a distance; in fact, from far away it had appeared green and vibrant. It wasn't until he had entered that the facade had disappeared, almost like the lifting of a veil.

He was unsure if it were magic or just a trick of the eye, but it seemed that the sun had disappeared as well and the moon had taken its place. Either his comprehension of time had been altered while he was in the forest, or something far more sinister had taken place.

As he continued onward his eyes began to adjust to the darkness. He saw that he had stumbled upon a strange, almost deliberate path that led deeper in, and whether by chance or not the tracks of the wolf had begun to follow it.

A feeling of uneasiness crept over Gwaleth, and it seemed then that the forest looked even more evil and sinister. The path was definitely not natural, and as he followed it it became even more abundantly clear. Small white stones lined it, and the leaves had been cleared from it. Very recently.

The forest seemed to close in around him, and it began to feel uncomfortably stuffy, as if the air was being strangled by the trees.

Suddenly he stopped, and took a step back in horror. For on the road in front of him was a large totem, crafted of bones. A chill went down his spine as he crept closer; a small human head adorned the top of the totem, and a rib cage was the centerpiece. Many arms protruded from the sides, reaching out as if in agony.

So that's where the children have gone, Gwaleth thought with a shudder. It was at this moment that he began to lose his composure. Nobody would know the difference if I just went back and told Lord Elrond that I had killed the creature. If more kidnappings occur I could just tell him that maybe there are more than one.

He took a deep breath. No. you're a seasoned warrior, you can handle whatever is in this forest.

He took a single step forward, hoping that the motion would give him courage. But it didn't. It felt as though his resolve was being drained from him, and fearful thoughts continued to fill his mind. They gnawed at him, grasped at his mind and made it difficult to do anything, let alone continue on.

But he had to. Whatever was out there would continue to kill innocents if he did nothing to stop it.

So he took another deep breath and began to walk forward slowly. He stepped around the grisly totem, noting that dried skin still hung from some of the bones. He noticed several more similar totems as he hurried down the path, but he tried his best to avoid them. He saw that the totems in the distance seemed to be surrounded by pitch darkness, even darker than the forest around them. The darkness was swirling around them, unnerving Gwaleth to the core.

Just as he passed another totem, he heard a sound. No... not a sound, rather a voice. It was almost inaudible, but Gwaleth's keen ears could decipher what the voice was saying. If it were even an audible voice. It almost sounded as if it were coming from within his mind, but he did not recognize the voice. It spoke in the common tongue, although Gwaleth thought he could also distinguish an elvish voice speaking along with it:

Oh elvish knight in shirt of mail
What do you see beneath the veil
Darkness swirls around so deep
Where children now forever sleep

The trees, they watch with eyes of void
Your soul now fades, it can't avoid
For it is mine, your life to last
Taken forever into the vast

You will not know, no pain you'll feel
Can e'er match the pain of your fate being sealed
Like a bond you can not break

Lost in the fires of cruel hate
For hatred's hunger, none can sate
Far is its reach, strong is its spells
Here in the forest where the Tall Man dwells

After the last line of the evil chant had been uttered, Gwaleth felt a dark presence behind him. Felt, in a way stronger than touch, sight, or sound. As if the darkness was reaching into his very soul. All hope seemed to be pulled from his being, and he suddenly began to feel something he had never felt before: pure dread.

He turned to face the darkness. Long, dark hands reached toward him, almost rootlike as they grasped at his face. His mouth widened as he saw what greeted his gaze, and a silent shriek was the last thing to escape his lips.

For none escape from the forest where the Tall Man dwells.