[Fordim Hedgethistle]

This was not how he had planned it. The prisoners had come to a halt in the middle of the corridor and were speaking amongst themselves. Darash, backed by the Man Zuromor, was suggesting the madness of seeking to defeat the Monster as a group, while others were speaking in small groups, clearly trying to make allies to help them survive the coming attack. The Elf woman crouched against the wall, clearly near collapse from the terror of the airs that Grash could feel coming toward them from the darkness. Surely they must know that to fight was impossible, only flight and speed, and even then only the swiftest could hope to ever see the sky again. He shook his head and muttered under his breath. What was he to do? He had to get the group moving again, and quickly, but what little order existed amongst the prisoners was evaporating within the horrid reek of the enclosing darkness.

There came upon them then a freezing terror unlike anything they had ever known. For each it was as though their worst nightmare had come into the waking world and now approached on stealthy legs. The very darkness took on substance and choked them, taking the vision from their eyes and minds so that they were all of them little more than blind and naked animals, quivering in cold place that would destroy them with its very indifference. Grash gasped for air and reached out to catch himself against a wall, choking on terror. Instead of rock his hand met flesh and he felt a hand take his own. It was strong and gave some comfort, but he felt the shiver of mortality that thrilled the other’s flesh as it did his own. Forcing himself to see again, he looked into the eyes of Aldor. It was as though he were looking into a window that had for the first time been opened to the outside world. In an instant, Grash saw the naked terror of a soul in torment and realised that Aldor had to this point been hiding much about himself, but in the extremity of their fear his barriers had fallen and lay about him like broken glass. Aldor forced the words out through a throat clenched by the air it tried to breath. “Run,” he gasped. “We must run…”

Grash nodded and tried to move but he was powerless to go anywhere, for her overwhelming will had come upon them. The company could move only their eyes, and what they saw approaching them through the darkness filled with loathing. In the darkness behind them there loomed up a vast shape, like a void into the pits of nothingness against the pitch of her realm. They heard the slow creak of her mighty limbs and the rasping noise of her great body as it dragged along the ground. But most horrible of all were her eyes. Thousands of them glared at them in clusters about her head, and from them there came a cold and baleful light of hunger and merciless hatred of all that drew breath and lived.

But as helpless as they felt, she was still wary, for they were many, and she was wounded. She would not risk an open confrontation here in the passageway, so she used all her will to cow and terrify them now, to drive their minds into the blackness of panic that overcomes reason, before letting them flee where she wished them to go. She would drive them before her to their end, where she would feast mightily.

Suddenly freed of their immobility, but seized still by the animal terror of the monster, the company turned and fled headlong down the passage. None there were who could resist the terror of that moment, so great was the will and hatred of she who followed them, none save perhaps the wisest of the wise. They ran headlong into the eternal night of her realm until they came upon a vast web of incredible size blocking the straight way. They slashed at the cords of the web with their weapons, but she had not taken such care with a web in many years and it defied steel and iron. They turned about to face the onslaught, and Grash tried to lean against a wall so that he would have something at his back other than the terrible web, but he fell into darkness. He landed upon a gently sloping floor, and scrambling to his feet he cried out for the others. “This way! Come! Another passage! Come come!” He turned and ran into the smaller way, down and down into a reek so terrible that it brought tears to his eyes. Some of the company followed, while others, wary of this new route, so clearly laid out for them, tried to stand their ground, but the terror of her approach came upon them like a wave and they could not withstand it. They turned and fled into the narrow way after the others.

On and on they ran and after a while the horror of her approach lessened, but it did not go away. Finally they stopped, panting and gasping for breath amid a noisome reek that clogged the air with a putrid taste so vile that every breath was a labour. Grash leaned against the wall, and felt not stone beneath his hand but a pulpy softness that writhed and squirmed. He spun away and help up his torch. At that instant the blindness that had overcome them all was lifted and they looked about at a sight that threatened their very reason. Hung about them upon the walls and roof of the tunnel were hundreds and thousands of vile creatures. Whether they were the spawn of the monster that had driven them here, or merely loathsome creatures that had some into her lair seeking the dregs of her feasts none could tell. Like spiders they were, but larger, some reaching the size of the largest rats that dwelled in the dungeons of Cirith Ungol. They were black and covered with fine hair, and the company could plainly see the poisonous glint of their stings, and hear the dreadful clicking of their jaws.

For a moment they stared in horror at the living, writhing mass of legs and bodies that hung about them, but there was no time to decide what was to be done, for like a pack of wild dogs that had been awaiting the command of their leader, the creatures swung toward the company upon their webs, seeking their tender flesh with their legs and stings and jaws…