Current mood:

okay

Vampyre!Sue
Story Or Series Title: Realm of the Vampyre
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings...? Seems more like a bad crossover, to me.
Culprit Author's Name: PheonixFlame2

Full Name (plus titles if any): Tathiel, Lady Tathiel
Full Species(es): Vampyre or "a Mordorian Elf to some" ...Sweet mother of macramé.
Hair Color (include adjectives): "...long red and black hair falling elegantly over her shoulders like a river of black ink mixed with blood.", "raven and crimson" hair
Eye Color (include adjectives): "Her eyes were pure white except for a thin black line around her iris and the black pupil." Tathiel's eyes turn white at night and then to a "fiery red" or a "fuzzy greyish red" during daylight.
Unusual Markings/Colorations: "unnaturally pale, almost dead looking" skin, reddish skin around her eyes, and "dark blue lines" that "could be visibly seen through her skin." She also has "multiple ear-piercings, two nose piercings, one lip piercing and four eyebrow piercings."
Special Possessions (if any): A pair of Wolverine gloves. "Tathiel clenched her fists. Three knife like blades suddenly shot out the gloves. They rested firmly upon her knuckles, giving her an an excellent weapon for giving grievous bodily harm."

Annoying Origin: Vempira of Mordor, "...a huge dug out hole beneath the misty mountains of Mordor. It was a place made of stone and rock, jagged edges piercing the frozen air. Its walls were soundproof, no sound escaping from Vempira into the misty skies where curious ear could be listening. I was the perfect home for the Mordorian Elves, more commonly know amongst themselves as Vampyres."
Annoying Connections To Canon Characters: Elrond's unrequited love. Saruman is an ally of her Vampyre clan and of AbuserRapist!Valek (her husband). Oh, and I almost forgot. Tathiel has a love affair with Grima.
Annoying Special Abilities: Ability to make Elrond a foolish and love-stricken teenage boy who abandons all reason, logic, wisdom, and his sense of danger in order to gain more knowledge about her and her people. The ability to not burn or turn into stone when sunlight touches her body. "She had rolled onto her side, shunning the morning rays with her back." She's able to sleep at night as well. You know, with her being a Vampyre and all, I think these last two abilities of hers to be a bit strange. But she is a Vampyre, and not a Vampire. So, maybe there is a significant difference between the two?
Other Annoying Traits: Attitude-ish, potty mouth-ish, and has a "devilish" and gothic, Elven beauty that no one can deny.

After my last, unfortunate encounter with unbelievably bad fanfiction starring a Mary Sue character that had already been featured here a month or so before, I pretty much lost all desire to ever read fanfiction again. So, from now on, for my own sanity, I'll make sure that I thoroughly look through TLOTR's worst past Mary Sues before I even decide to submit a post featuring a particular character to avoid needlessly clawing my eyes out while reading about her and to not bring back any frightening memories or thoughts about her from among fellow members. My trauma has successfully just about passed though. But when I decided to go back to the Pit, I aimed to find something a bit different and Non-Mary-Sue-ish. And during this search, I came across a Treebeard/Gollum that I shall not get into right now ever. I wanted to find a Grima Wormtongue story, b/c he doesn't get much play in the fandom world of "The Lord of the Rings". And I thought it'd be interesting to read one written about him. But alas, I just had to cross paths with this particular story. Even Grima is not safe from Mary Sues, it seems. Not even Vampyre ones. But since it featured Grima, I gave it a chance anyway.

After a few chapters into the story, the author gets to Grima's character. And while I was reading this story, the movie "Underworld" kept flashing in my mind. The author created this story before the movie came out though, I know. But still. I couldn't help but to think of it. I'm thankful that Tathiel's love interests were neither Legolas nor Frodo and that she didn't join the Fellowship as the Assassinator!Tenth-Member. So, a smile and "thank you" to the author from me. But this story just seemed to go from bad to worse. Elrond the Foolish, Saruman the Ally, and the palantir communication thing along with the rape and sex scenes completely threw me off and destroyed all optimism I had at the beginning. I have a slew of LJ cut tags for some of the worst parts from this story for ya.

Please include a small sample of the worst of this story:

A Voice in the Air

“Elrond…”

Elrond fell still, poising like a statue. He felt fear creeping up his slender back. The voice kept hissing his name; it’s sound sharp and raspy. Elrond diverted his eyes in the direction of the voice, two white eyes flashing at him from a bush as he did so. He stared wildly, the eyes blinking at him as he caught their gaze.

“Who’s there?” he called out softly, “What do you want with Lord Elrond?”

There was a pause, “You are him, are you not?” the voice questioned.

“Who are you, and what brings you here to Imladris? What business do you have with Lord Elrond?” he asked, his voice stern yet hesitant.

“Bring me to me Lord Elrond, or else…” the voice rasped back. The creator of the voice knew full well that the Elven man stood before it was indeed the Lord of Imladris. The description it was given was exact to the Elf’s appearance.

Elrond’s heart skipped a beat, the voice sending nervous shivers down his spine, “Or else what?” he asked, wanting no business with this creature.

“Or else death will come swiftly to you” the voice shrieked.

Elrond started at this information, suddenly wishing he had stayed in bed and that his instincts were avoided, “… I am Lord Elrond. Before I agree to see to your business I want to know what brings you here and why.”

“If I show myself, will you promise not to scream, not to shout, not to alert anyone of my presence?” The voice replied.

Elrond nodded and gulped, preparing himself for whatever kind of monstrosity was about to appear before his eyes. At the back of his min, his thoughts told him that the creature was most likely an orc or goblin but he were to be thoroughly surprised. The voice’s body took some time before it showed itself. A tall, feminine figure stepped out from the bushes, her long red and black hair falling elegantly over her shoulders like a river of black ink mixed with blood. Her face remained enshrouded in darkness, her glowing eyes piercing into Elrond’s soul.

In Which He Loses His Sense of Danger

“How can I trust you,” Elrond said in a scorning tone.

“You can’t, but I know you can. All I ask for is a room where I can stay in privacy for a few days so I can think things through. That’s all I ask, and that you tell no one of my staying here. You knowing will be painful enough,” Tathiel explained.

Elrond gathered his thoughts together, and replied with a light hint of regret in his voice, “I’m sorry, but it’s too sudden. I need time to think,” he sat on a nearby bench and ran his eyes over Tathiel’s face. She had multiple ear-piercings, two nose piercings, one lip piercing and four eyebrow piercings. He had never before seen an Elf with any piercings as they were more commonly seen in Orcs. He doubted her. Her clothes and appearance made him believe that she was something to do with Orcs. How could he trust her when she looked so similar to one?

“Shall I take that as a no then?” Tathiel asked and looked to the ground sympathetically. Elrond ignored her, cupping his face in his hands. “I shall then” Tathiel muttered and turned to walk away.

Elrond shot her glance as soon as she said that, and watched her face shrink back into the darkness. Suddenly acting on the spur of the moment or maybe what was Tathiel’s aura of mysteriousness affecting him, he leapt forward shouting, “Wait!” at Tathiel. She instantly turned around as he grabbed her muscular arm. “Stay. You can stay, as long as…” he trailed off, enticed by her deep eyes.

“As long as?” Tathiel repeated surprised.

“As long as you promise to tell me everything about you. I want to know about your species. I feel, so attracted to you. I don’t what it is about you…but I want to know. I suddenly don’t feel myself…and I need to know. I want to learn about you.”

Tathiel looked up at Elrond. He was slightly taller than her, allowing her to gaze up at his blue eyes. An image of someone she loved dearly flashed through her mind as she gazed deep into those wise eyes. They were like portals to a fountain of wisdom which were kept locked up from Tathiel.

“Done,” Tathiel finally replied, a grin spreading across her lips.

Elrond smiled. “Fine. I want you stay in my room for your stay here. If you do not want to be discovered by any, that is the best place for you. Though I admit, I feel unsure of whether I can trust you.” Elrond paused, thinking of what to say. He had suddenly become shaky around this beautiful being that stood a mere few inches from him.

“Lets just there, yeah?” Tathiel said, forcing upon the importance of her being hidden. She was eager to get into his lifestyle as quickly as possible. Elrond remained silent and proceeded to lead Tathiel up into his sleeping quarters. All the while, she grinned menacingly behind his back.

I Don't Agree with Such Unnecessary Pain Either, Tathiel

Tathiel continued to explain, “You may find this extremely sick and horrifying, but my race, we drink the blood of other elves in order to live. I don’t particularly choose to, I have too to in order to live. If I didn’t I would die of starvation. We are known by each other as Vampyres, drinkers of blood. To celebrate the transformation from child to adult, the Vampyre must torture and brutalize a captured elf, killing him or her with as much pain as possible. Then they must drink all of their blood. Then they are considered as newly fledged adults. I do not agree with the unnecessary torture and pain and refused to do it. For that, I was banished and told that if I ever were to be seen again, then I too would be killed.”

Tathiel fell silent, shifting slightly under Elrond’s piercing gaze. Elrond too continued to be silent, trying to think of how to reply to the shocking revelation. Disgust rose in his chest.

After an uncomfortable silence, Elrond finally spoke, his brows knotted in confusion, “But why. I thought you said it was a part of your natural lifestyle to do such a thing. Aren’t you born to do that?” Would she kill him?

“Technically, yes, but I do not agree with unnecessary pain. I hope this information does not make you feel uneasy in your bed tonight. Please feel sure that I have no interest in killing you or any of your clan. I respect you” Tathiel whispered.

Elrond gasped in a deep breath, then exhaled loudly. He wiped his tired eyes and gently led back onto the bed, folding his arms beneath his weary head. Tathiel watched him carefully, “You may sleep in here tonight,” Elrond told Tathiel as he closed his grey eyes, “I think I’ve heard enough for one night. We shall speak again in the morning.” He indeed had, the answers he received from the woman confirming to him that he did not to wish to know any further tonight. He wondered if he would even be able to get to sleep. Trust for Tathiel was not there in his instincts.

The Vampyre Strikes

Elrond automatically swivelled around to look behind, instantaneously getting up at the same and leaping back, his long robes flowing behind him. His eyes were instantly filled with terror as at the same time Tathiel pounced on her intended victim, not knowing that he would sense her at the very last second. She leapt out of the bushes, her clenched fists held out in an aggressive pose, her eyes flashed at him angrily and her mouth gaped open revealing her threatening inch long canines.

Elrond’s jaw fell in shock and he felt the sudden fierce drumming against his chest as his heart raced. He instantly jumped back a second time and shouted, “Tathiel.”

Tathiel fell still as she laded on the floor and shrunk into a sitting position, one knee held against the side of her head, the other leg went backwards so she looked as though she was in a cat like pose about to leap again. Knowing that her plan had suddenly been shattered into pieces she mentally kicked herself for not attacking quicker and then laughed aloud to try and hide this plan from Elrond.

Elrond felt a little relieved when Tathiel started laughing, though he was still shaken. She certainly knew how to catch elves out and give them a scare.

“I thought I’d show you how we hunt and attack our prey. If you were all on your own or maybe with another if were lucky, you’d be dead right now if I had had you in my sights,” Tathiel lied to Elrond to hide her sadistic plans.

Elrond remained tongue tied as he got his breath back and relaxed again. His eyes fell onto the three blades which stabbed out of Tathiel’s gloved and suddenly felt unnerved again. Tathiel caught Elrond catching glimpses of her weapons and smiled.

“These are one of many weapons we use to kill. Mostly just for fights and not killing. However if I did use these on the hunt, I’d sneak up right behind you and then bang! I’d shove them right into your back,” Tathiel punched her hand out to demonstrate. Her speed shocked Elrond further. “Then with my free hand I would yank back your hair, exposing the soft tissues of your neck and then sink my fangs into the arteries in your neck. Then I would drink your blood.”

Tathiel released her clenched fists and flexed her fingers as ‘her claws’ as she liked call them retracted back into their protective sheaves. Elrond watched carefully, the sharp sound that the claws made making him jump a bit.

“Why did you wish to generate such fear in my person by sneaking up on my unwatchful figure and striking at me with such frightful consequences? Even now I can still feel my heart drum against my chest,” Elrond questioned the dark elf.

I'm Certainly Relieved

“I was merely toying with you. You expressed your wish to learn everything about me and my race and I merely demonstrated the accuracy of our hunting techniques. We need blood to survive. Without it we die. It’s very simply really, a life or death situation over blood, the life source of all living creatures. It’s also the reason why I ask if I can go and hunt tonight. I need to drink. I haven’t done so for four days.”

“And what would you kill? A deer, a few birds?”

Tathiel shook her head, “No Elrond. I need blood, elven blood.”

“The only elves around here are my people, my friends and family,” Elrond’s voice angered slightly.

Tathiel’s expression suddenly turned, “Listen Elrond, I know that killing is not a pleasant thing, but I have to to survive! If I don’t get blood either tonight or tomorrow I will die!! Would you want that to happen when there is so much that you still want learn?”

Elrond angrily brushed past Tathiel, and then violently turned to face her. The subject of the conversation had angered him and he had no wish to continue the matter. He had already lost on family member, he wasn’t ready to lose another of whom he loved, “You kill anyone, and I swear I shall have you dead before you could even utter the word blood!!” Elrond harshly whispered in the elf’s ear.

Sharing with a Stranger

Elrond felt a strange temptation to lightly kiss Tathiel on the lips as she quietly listened to his tragic story. He told her about Celebrían and how much they loved each other and the days leading up to their first child’s birth. She loved their kids dearly and spent a lot of time with them. He recited the days when she disappeared during a trip to Lothlorian. She had been ambushed by Orcs and a single arrow kit and poisoned her. Luckily she wasn’t killed but she was found a few days later, unconscious. Elrond managed to cure her from the poison, but as the poison was slowly drained from her body, so too was her love for Middle-Earth. She passed on to the Gray Heavens, but Elrond stayed feeling that his purpose in Middle-Earth was not yet over.

“I haven’t heard of her or seen her since,” Elrond quietly finished, turning his head away slowly and wiping away a brief tear. “I sometimes wonder is she‘ll be there, waiting for me when my reason for staying here is finally over. I wonder if she still loves me at times. I always ask myself if her love for me was drained away with the poison too.”

Tathiel had been patiently listening to Elrond. Her eyebrows knitted in pity when Elrond shed a tear and she felt tempted to lean forward and hug him for support. Every time the thought entered her head, the constant reminder of what she was here to do held her back and made her as sorrowful as he was. It wasn’t known of Elrond to cry, but the sight of it saddened Tathiel greatly. It was at this point that she finally realized that she had grown to like Elrond and battled with herself as to whether or not she should and could commit the deed.

“I’m sure she still loves you,” Tathiel whispered, trying to reassure Elrond.

She suddenly felt a huge stream of guilt flush through her as she suddenly remembered earlier on when she had attempted to go through with her plans. Elrond had probably been looking at the night sky and remembering Celebrían when she pounced out at him.

Elrond shook his head and looked up at Tathiel, “You know I’m not so sure.”

Tathiel sighed in pity. “Elrond, earlier when I pounced out at you, were you a bit angry with me because you were thinking about her?” She asked gently.

Elrond nodded, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“That’s okay. I shouldn’t have done it. It was stupid and immature of me.”

Drink my Blooood

There was a pregnant pause for a few silent moments before Tathiel spoke again, “But I still need blood you know. I can feel the weakness and trust me; it’s not a nice feeling.”

Elrond sighed aloud and said “I understand,” and then pulled back the sleeve of his robes exposing his pale wrist. “It is elven blood you need to survive isn’t it?”

Tathiel shook her head as in yes and stared down at Elrond’s naked arm.

“Then drink my blood. Just not too much of it okay,” Elrond proposed, shocking Tathiel. He sounded completely serious.

“You serious?? I can’t so that! It’ll hurt like hell and not to mention look dodgy if anyone has a chance to see it!!”

“I know, but you need blood right. I would prefer you drink mine than go out and kill one of my companions. I’ll just grit my teeth and hope it doesn’t hurt too much,” Elrond told Tathiel.

“I guess so,” Tathiel looked out the window as the prospect of inflicting pain on Elrond unnerved her. “Just try not to scream then.”

Tathiel waited a while for a response which was Elrond’s nod of his raven haired head before moving so she was sat adjacent to Elrond. She shot him one last look as she took his arm in her hands. She slowly leant down to his wrist to give him enough time to quickly pull out if he wished to, but he did no such thing. She licked the area first before closing her ghostly eyes and sinking her canine teeth into his wrist automatically drawing blood. Elrond’s eyes scrunched up at the sudden stinging pain and he gritted his teeth furiously and threw back his head as she sucked on the open wound. Elrond’s pure blood ran into Tathiel’s mouth and she savored the taste with great satisfaction. Her tongue ran over the wound, causing Elrond to release suppressed cries of pain. She pulled back her teeth and licked the wound vigorously to drink any escaping blood and placed his arm on her lap. Elrond looked down on the wound. There on his wrist above his veins were two red and swollen holes. He quickly shot his gaze up at Tathiel who licked her lips and wiped her mouth clean of blood.

“Did..that satisfy…your thirst?” He questioned. His voice was a little weak as he breathed heavily between the words and broke out in a cold sweat.

“I hate to say this… but no I didn’t really. It’s always difficult drinking from the wrist. We generally drink from the neck as the blood flow is faster a stronger there.” Tathiel answered and looked down shyly.

“Why didn’t you say that at first?” Elrond asked as he rained his breath. He began to rub his arm where Tathiel’s puncture wounds were.

“Because I didn’t want to take advantage of your offer. I also thought it would sound a little sexual.” Tathiel replied weakly.

Elrond lifted up Tathiel’s chin so he could look into her eyes and said, “You want to drink from my neck, you drink from my neck. I don’t want you to die on me, especially not after I just poured my heart to you.” He tried to sound a little sarcastic to cheer himself up. He almost felt happy that he could experience Tathiel’s touch. He tried his best to block these insane thoughts and blamed it on the atmosphere. How could he like her in that way, he’d only known her for a few days? And besides, she was so much more different than him and elves never fall in love a second time. Or do they?

Elrond smiled to reassure Tathiel. He could tell that she was uncomfortable with the idea and to be honest so was he. He had never experienced anything like it and didn’t really like the idea but he continued onwards, for Tathiel’s sake.

“Only if you’re sure?” Tathiel expressed.

Elrond agreed through his body language and allowed Tathiel to climb upon him, leaning back against his pillows as she did so. She curled her arms around his head and sat astraddle across his midsection and licked the soft skin of Elrond’s neck. She blushed a little as she did so as she felt like she was taking advantage of Elrond and felt uncomfortable about being upon him in such a sexual way. She snaked her fingers through his silky hair and gently pulled back his head to reveal his neck more. She sucked it lightly to loosen the skin and then sank her fangs in once more.

Again Elrond cringed with the pain, but also felt a strange sense of pleasure as Tathiel’s body rubbed up against his. He tried to rid his mind of it, tired to convince himself that he did not have growing feelings for the vampyress. As Tathiel drained him of blood he felt weird sensation as if he were in a trance. He gasped loudly and his eyes nearly rolled back into their sockets and he loosely hung his arms in the air before grasping hold of Tathiel’s hair with his hands. He held her close to him and savored the moment though he knew not why. Earlier the thought would never have entered his mid. Why now?

Elf and Vampyre Smooch

After quenching her thirst and stopping before she cause serious blood loss to Elrond, Tathiel pulled away and looked at his colour stripped face. He had gone very pale and looked weak and tired especially in the eyes. His grey eyes were half open and forced a weak smile, his hands still clasping Tathiel’s hair. Suddenly to her surprise and his own he leant forward and pushed his lips against Tathiel’s. Tathiel’s eyes bulged open in shock as she felt Elrond’s cold lips upon hers, but she soon shut her eyes and kissed back. Elrond suddenly and swiftly pulled back and apologized swiftly.

Foolish Love

Tathiel remained to look away from him, “It’s not that. It’s just, it’s just that there is…”
“…someone else?” Elrond finished.

Tathiel nodded and looked into Elrond’s grey eyes, “Yeah, there is someone else.”

“May I ask who? Do you have a spouse of some sort?”

Tathiel sighed, “Yes, but he is not the one I love.”

“Who is he?”

“I’m afraid I cannot tell. My dark secret of my lust for him shall be locked deep in my own heart for all eternity. He loves someone else and for now I am happy for us t be just friends unless he signals to me that he wants something more.”

Elrond shuffled to the side of his bed and swung his legs round so they dangled over the edge. A single tear slide down his cheek and he hurried to wipe it away. The news was too much for him. He quickly got up, surprising his stinging tears and quickly rushed to the door.

Tathiel quickly looked up and said, “Elrond, there is something…” but it was too late. Elrond had already left the room deserting her by herself.

“…I need to tell you.”

* * * * *


Elrond rushed down the corridors that lead from the bed chambers and exiled himself to a small, pokey room where he could be by himself. He thought to himself for ages, trying to figure out why he felt so upset about Tathiel not loving him back. His tears seeped through his wise fingers which he held to his eyes. He no longer suppressed them and allowed to fall freely from his eyes.

He felt stupid, he couldn’t argue with that. He hardly even knew Tathiel and he was already acting like a complete idiot and throwing himself at her. Deep down he knew he should talk to her but he just didn’t feel emotionally up to the job. He just wanted to cry and cry and release all his feelings.

Elrond was in the room for over an hour before he came out, wiping his eyes with his now damp sleeve. He decided to eat some food first before his gathering his strength and courage to go and pour his heart out to Tathiel. However when he entered his bedroom, ready to tell Tathiel all, he discovered she was gone, and a single piece of paper laying by his bedside twitching with the low breeze of the wind.

Lurve

Gríma looked shocked, his eyes bulging at Tathiel’s words. Had she really just said what he had heard? That in her mind, she secretly wants to be with him. He tried to decipher the words in his head, wondering if he had heard incorrectly. His azure gaze stared at her, her ghostly one staring back at him. She smiled weakly, then took his hand in hers, stroking his thumb lightly. He followed her actions with his yes, his mouth still open from shock. She stood on her free hand and knees and leant closer to Gríma so her breath tickled his cheeks. “Gríma…I love you,” She whispered gently. “I always have and always will. For ages, since we have met I have desired you upon everything else.” She paused studying Gríma before she carried on, slinking her hand up his arm to the side of his face, “I want you more than anything else in the whole of middle-earth.”

Gríma remained still, watching her expressions change as she said those words to him. He suddenly felt an undying desire to have her too, a sudden realization that it was maybe her he wanted and not Eowyn. After all, they were rather friendly and had a lot in common compared to Eowyn. Eowyn was cold and spiteful, continuously breaking his heart, or so he thought. Maybe it was just lust he had for her because she beautiful and once a time even friendly to him. Tathiel’s emotions which shone through her expressions told him that what she was saying was honesty and determination. Gríma felt confused as to why Tathiel would want him for her own.
“But…why me? You have a husband…” he finally said, his bald brows knotting into a frown. “…a clan, a hometown, people who love you. I have nothing to offer you, no home, no friends, no...”

Tathiel cut him off abruptly, “Love is what you have to offer Gríma. All I want from you is your love for me. I don’t care where we are, who we are with, anything as long as I am by your side.”

“But I am mortal. You are not. I will not be with you for very long, it just wouldn’t work. What would you do after my death?”

“I’ll think of that when it comes to it,” Tathiel answered sternly, “For now all I want is you...” She reached her other hand forward, cupping Gríma’s face with her palms. She gently closed her eyes and leant into Gríma, pressing her parted lips into his own. Gríma felt a rush of excitement as she did so, having finally felt a woman’s lips on his own. Tathiel slid her hands up to Gríma’s hair, snaking her long fingers between it and roughly tightening a grip around it as she kissed him harder. She finally felt the courage to deepen the kiss as she parted Gríma’s lips with her tongue, sliding it delicately into his mouth. He tried to kiss back clumsily, inexperience oozing from his lips. Tathiel could feel her heart drumming in her chest as she finally got what she desired. Her tongue intertwined with his less experienced one as man and Mordorian elf lady passionately kissed under the stars.

Sex in the Wilderness

Tathiel finally parted from Gríma, a thin string of Gríma’s saliva still connecting the two, she found she had moved herself onto Gríma’s lap, her legs sprawled either side of him. He smiled weakly at her, a rush of emotions surging through his blood. He had never felt so…weird in all his life. His hands remained poised by his sides. He felt too shy to say or do anything and Tathiel picked up on this. She twirled her fingers through his greasy black hair, and then pulled them down to his chest. She played with his over robes, slowly undoing the small knot that tied it together. She smiled all the way, as Gríma watched her, not knowing what to do. She gently pushed his furry coat collar over his shoulders, revealing the tender skin of his neck.

She leant forward into Gríma, planting a soft kiss on the nape of his neck and rolling her tongue over the soft area. Gríma bundled up some courage and lightly stroked the back of Tathiel’s hair, the suddenly cringed, gritting his teeth when she bit into his skin. He felt a short spring of pain as her teeth sliced into his skin, causing blood to filter into her mouth. He let out a raspy cry, his eyes creasing as she sucked on his skin, “Tathiel…” he panted in between cringes.

Tathiel pulled away at this, a small droplet of blood trickling past her lips. Gríma was breathing heavily, blood from the large bite on his neck pouring down under his clothes and over his chest. Tathiel grinned, and then violently kissed Gríma, falling down onto her back and pulling him downwards with her so he was sprawled upon her between her legs. Gríma looked at Tathiel, his own blood smeared over his lips, his neck pulsing painfully. He exhaled loudly, shock still gripping his body. Everything had gone to fast for Gríma. However he found himself grinning, realizing what Tathiel wanted from him as she hooked her legs over his waist. This time Gríma brushed his lips up against Tathiel’s connecting with her a long kiss of passion. His hands roamed over her body, groping her breasts and hips roughly, occasionally even pushing his hands under her top.

Tathiel could feel his horniness as he pressed himself on top her digging into her stomach as his tongue clumsily rolled over her neck. He pushed her coat from her shoulders and gently removed her top, pulling it over her hair. Tathiel released a soft moan as his warm, moist tongue roaming over her bare chest. She could feel his nervousness as he was shaking slightly. The cold air whipped around her, causing her to shiver slightly. She wondered if this was making Gríma shake as he was, or was he slightly scared?

“Gríma?” she asked softly, “Are you nervous?”

Gríma nodded his head slowly, a sympathetic look on his face. Tathiel knew that this would be his first time so she sat up, pushing Gríma to his knees. “You know Gríma, if you don’t want to that’s fine by me. I can tell you’re nervous. You’re shaking like you got pneumonia or something.”

Gríma gazed into her pale eyes, keeping them firmly in her direction. “I do….it’s just... I don’t want to disappoint you.” He looked away his voice becoming barely audible, “It’s not like I have much experience.” He muttered.

“That doesn’t matter to me,” Tathiel replied, turning Gríma’s face so he was facing her again. She gave him a reassuring, warm smile. She placed both of her hands on his shoulders and said, “Lie down,” to him in a seductive tone. He followed her requests, lying down on his back. She knotted her hands with his and placed them by the sides of his head and lead down on him, her legs separated so she was sat astraddle across the top of his legs.

She slowly began to gyrate her hips into him in a rhythmetic fashion. His eyes instantly rolled back at having never felt anything like this before. “It feels good doesn’t it,” Tathiel told him as an expression of pleasure masked his face. He let out a small moan and gripped hold of Tathiel’s hands. “Now for the real thing.”

Gríma reopened his eyes at this and watched Tathiel as undone the belt of his robes. He stared at the stars trying to ignore saying or doing anything. His nervousness doubled as Tathiel stripped her lower regions and proceeded to sit upon his own nakedness. Tathiel quickly rammed her tongue into his mouth in a rather violent way to silence him before he let out any noise. Gríma stumbled to caress her skin as she did she, his nervousness make him feel rather uncomfortable. He could never have guessed what Tathiel really had on her mind whenever she was in his presence, but now, he was just beginning to get a taste of her full desires for him as the two embraced in the cold night air.

Poor Tathiel

She violently turned to face him when he shut the door of their sleeping quarters, her face surging with emotions, “I have just about had enough of you and you’re fucking attitude. I am not some kid of whom you can order about as you wish! I am a…”

Tathiel was rudely cut off as Valek’s hand slapped across her cheek, “Do not back chat me! I am your husband and the leader of our clan! You do as I say and wish, you hear me!” his voice boomed, his eyes glaring with anger.

She looked back up at him with shock, automatically covering her stinging cheek with a soothing hand, “You bastard!” she hissed.

Valek folded his arms and said icily, “You will go to Isengard and tell Saruman of your failure. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to hear of your…actions!” His eyes creased in madness and then a thin smile trickled across his wiry lips. He watched Tathiel as she stood there, defying him with an angry expression. He proceeded to rid himself of his heavy coat, hanging it on the side, and began to unbutton his black top. He had thought of a better punishment for the elven lady.

Tathiel snorted loudly, her rage growing, “You’ve got to be joking! After what you just done!”

Tathiel swiftly leapt for the door, but was blocked by Valek’s arm. He roughly grabbed her and threw her on the bed, pushing her down with his weight. He roughly rolled his tongue over her cheek and neck, biting hard in places. Tathiel squirmed under his weight, his hands roaming up her body and groping her tender places. She could him striping her of his clothes, pressing his body down on top of hers to prevent her from escaping.

“Get off of me Valek!” Tathiel screamed, tears welling in her eyes, staining them crimson. Valek instantly looked up at her, his mouth held open and his ivory fangs in full view. He smiled gently at her, “Ohh what’s wrong Tathiel? Don’t you love me anymore? You can leave as soon as I have sated my desires for you.”

Valek continued to violate Tathiel, forcing her to make love with him no matter how much he hurt Tathiel, both mentally and physically. When he was done with her, he rudely chucked her out, tears of blood streaming down her cheeks. She instantly made way to Isengard, trying to suppress her tears. If she cried too much, she would literally bleed to death seeing as when they her race are saddened they cry tears of pure blood.

Valek had once again forced himself onto her without her consent, though this time she felt more hurt as she considered herself to be with Gríma. She vowed to get her revenge on her so called husband.

Another Seeing Stone is Suddenly Accounted For

He slowly stood up, his long silk robes falling elegantly to the floor. He wrapped them gently around his body and slowly wandered into a dimly lit arched corridor which led into a large room with a high ceiling. Its only light source was the orange rays emanating from candles which rose out of the walls from torches that circled the room in spots on the walls. The room itself had a very deep gothic aura to it, with sapphire coloured walls and a glossy marble floor. In the centre of the room a small pillar made from black metal rose into the air, twisting and intertwining with all sorts of spiky shapes and hooks. At the top of the ornamental device lay a large circular stone shining a radiant hue of purple in the low lights.

Valek calmly walked over to the stone, his gaze fixated hardly on it. The stone which he held with such respect was a Palantír, one of the unaccounted for seeing stones. Valek calmly held his hand over the stone, hovering it a few inches from the silky surface of the Palantír. He calmly closed his eyes, fixating his mind into a room similar to his, with high black walls with swirling patterns. The room looked like to be made out of black foil, delicate and shiny to the eye. Valek knew that the person he was looking for was there, when an old looking man with a long, bony face and a river of white hair appeared in his minds eye.

“Valek…” The voice was deep and had a drone like tone to it. The man’s eyes glinted darkly at the reflection which was staring back at him from his own Palantír.

Valek grinned, his pointed canines shining through his pale lips. “Saruman,” he smiled, “My great friend is indeed in.”

Saruman’s facial expression remained locked into an expression of arrogance, his gaze intent, “What news from Vempira, Valek?”

Vempira was the place that Valek and his clan inhabited, a huge dug out hole beneath the misty mountains of Mordor. It was a place made of stone and rock, jagged edges piercing the frozen air. Its walls were soundproof, no sound escaping from Vempira into the misty skies where curious ear could be listening. I was the perfect home for the Mordorian Elves, more commonly know amongst themselves as Vampyres.

Don't Try to Stop a Woman from Seeing her Man

“Saruman...” she hissed. Tathiel wasn’t particularly fond of Saruman. He was close with Valek and agreed with everything that her possessive husband said. He also wasn’t very friendly to Gríma which upset her when she heard of Gríma’s stories of his mistreatment whilst he was in Isengard.

Saruman jumped at her raspy voice. He swiveled round to see her muscular posture stood at the open doorway. He entered the room casually and studied Tathiel’s condition. She was partially soaking wet with a scornful expression pasted onto her face. She always felt the need to challenge Saruman which angered him greatly, but he knew that if he reacted on this as he would to any other person, he would lose his alliance with Valek. “Tathiel,” his tone of voice was sharp and disappointed, “I hear from your husband that you have news for me.”

Tathiel gritted her teeth. She hated this Wizard above everything else, “Yes I do. I failed to complete the mission. Elrond is still alive, and before you ask, no I don’t care. I see no reason why he had to be assassinated.”

Saruman looked down at the smaller elf, her arrogance already annoying him. “Don’t challenge me Lady Tathiel!” He boomed, the sudden realization that she hadn’t done what he and Valek had assigned her do smacking him in the face. He stared at her with dark, gleaming eyes. “How dare you walk into my residence and talk to me as if you owned the place!”

Tathiel sniggered purposefully, wanting to get on the Wizard’s nerves. His snowy beard shook with anger as he shouted her, his voice echoing throughout the tower. Tathiel never felt intimidated by the older man and sometimes enjoyed trying to take power over him. However he always enforced his control.

“Do you think I give a fuck about what you think?” Tathiel screamed. Saruman felt taken aback by her sudden use of foul language towards him. Feeling herself losing her temper she quickly decided to avoid the situation and turned violently to the door. “I’m going to see Gríma!”

Saruman instantly intervened, grabbing a handful of Tathiel’s raven cloak, “Oh no your not! I think you’ve had enough of seeing Worm after you’re little ‘encounter’ in the woods!”

Tathiel nastily swiped Saruman’s arm away from her and snarled at him, “Just you try and stop me!” She stormed onto another staircase, this one leading into the chambers. She figured Gríma would be in his chamber huddled, into his bed. That was if he was still alive. However, on her sprint upwards, she bumped into someone she had never anticipating seeing in Isengard, and halted.

She looked up at a tall elven lady with silky skin and long flowing sapphire hair that fell to her waist. She had a surprised look on her strong features and tried to smile feebly at Tathiel. She was wearing a long dress that hugged her curvy figure, which was unfortunately the colour of pink. Tathiel snorted in disgust, and unfriendly look upon her face. The woman had been alerted by the shouting and addressed her self to Tathiel.

“Hi, my name is Sick….” The woman began but Tathiel rudely cut her off

“Piss off!” she barked at the woman who introduced her self as Sick. She quickly barged past her, roughly smacking into her so she would fall to the side. Tathiel quickly ran up the rest of the flight of steps into the level of bedrooms without looking past at the hideously dressed elf lady. The smell and look of Sick told Tathiel that she was an elf. Her sweet smell aroused her need to hunt and feed and she contemplated having Sick as her next meal, but first she wanted to make sure Gríma was safe

Tathiel Strikes Again

Tathiel licked her lips cautiously, her hunger growing, her blood surging for this chance to kill. She was a very precise hunter, keeping to the shadows and moving with absolute silence. She stalked Sick in a very cat like manner, creeping up to her beneath the curtain of darkness that enveloped her. She watched intensely, her eyes fixed on Sick’s fragile form. She could hear, her breathing, her fidgeting and once again Tathiel licked her lips. She waited, anticipating the attack. When finally she sprung forward.

Sick was completely unaware. Tathiel flew though the air, her hands outstretched. She jumped the whole length of the bed and rudely collapsed onto Sick as she pounced on her. She sunk her long nails into Sick’s shoulder as Sick emitted a sharp scream, something big and hard pushing her to the floor with a loud thud.

Tathiel was quick to seize her prey, wrapping her body around Sick’s so she couldn’t move. She pulled on Sick’s hair, yanking it forward revealing her slender neck. With the other hand she gagged sick, stopping her from crying out and making a lot of unwanted noise.

Tathiel growled and hissed, opening her mouth in excitement as she prepared to bite the tender Elf underneath her. Sick started at the sight of Tathiel’s fangs, twitching under the stronger woman’s form. Tathiel rasped noisily, then shot forward, sinking her fangs into Sick’s throat and clamping her jaws like a vice. Sick muttered a strangled cry and blood trickled easily from the sudden attack, small globes of crimson dripping down her neck and chest. Sick tried to attack back, flailing her arms and legs wildly at the stronger Elf, but the more she struggled, the more pressure Tathiel applied. She drank steadily, painfully sucking at the nape of Sick’s neck, hot blood dripping down her throat. Tathiel slide her hands around Sick’s chin, ready to pull back and snap the Elf’s neck like a twig.

But she was rudely disrupted before she had chance to. “Tathiel!” an angry tone shouted from the doorframe, making her jump and shoot her eyes in the direction of the voice. She dropped Sick in an instant, her body falling to the ground with a loud thud. Tathiel locked her eyes on the shadowed figure at the door, red blood smeared around her lips.

She had recognised the voice, but struggled to see the man until he stepped into the light. “Gríma?” she questioned, his eyes scorning her behind a screen of messy hair. She remained in a crouched position as Gríma swiftly walked over her, and kneeling next to her. He placed a gentle on Tathiel’s shoulder and looked at Sick as she cowered up against the wall, tears streaming down her cheeks. Tathiel glared at her with wild eyes.

I Love her Excuse

Saruman drew up close to Tathiel, his walk silent and deadly. His expression didn’t change, even as he spoke in a low, demanding tone. “Tathiel, I would like to explain something to me…” He straightened so he appeared taller than the Mordorian Elf. He wanted to look like he had dominance over the dangerous being.

“And what is that Saruman.” Tathiel replied.

Saruman slowly turned to Sick, pointed to her exposed neck and said with a taste of bitterness, “That!” He looked back at her, clearly expecting an explanation.

Tathiel shrugged her shoulders, “Well, I got hungry.”

Gríma lowered his head, “My lady,” he muttered, “Don’t talk to him like that. You’ll get us both in trouble.” Saruman didn’t hear Gríma. Maybe it was just as well. In the temper that he was in, anything could set off him right now.

Saruman’s expression maddened at Tathiel. He lost control of his anger, and the sight of Tathiel just made him even angrier. With an unexpected action, he raised his hand and viscously swept it across Tathiel’s face with extraordinary speed and power, a loud smack radiating through the air.

Tathiel fell back into Gríma at the power of the slap, and Gríma caught her so she didn’t fall down on him. Gríma grimaced at Saruman, looking at him crazy eyes. But Tathiel was the one to react. “How dare you!” she hissed like a raged tiger, rubbing her already glowing cheek with a caressing hand.

More Sex?

Valek pushed himself into Tathiel, allowing her arms to cross above his neck and rest on his shoulders. He separated her legs with his own, playing with the fabric of her dress. He glided his fingers over the bare flesh of Tathiel’s knee and slowly dragged his hand upwards, pulling with it the dress. Tathiel trembled as the coldness of the air hit her naked skin and gasped when Valek slid two fingers between her legs. He was gentle with her, his nails having the ability to cause serious damage if he were too rough. Valek was to be Tathiel’s first encounter with a male in this way.

Valek pulled away from biting Tathiel’s fresh skin, “I am to be your first,” he said in a fact like way. He could feel her virginity inside her.

Tathiel nodded a simple yes. The answer seemed to please Valek and Tathiel heart fluttered when Valek pushed himself against her, his arousal being clear to her, “May I?” he asked politely, expecting Tathiel to allow him to take her virginity from her. Tathiel was filled with excitement.

She gulped, “…yes…” she fidgeted nervously under Valek’s weight as he kissed her again, his hands fumbling with his trousers. He wasn’t to be gentle with Tathiel this time. As soon as his trousers were loosened he roughly pushed himself into her causing her lurch forward into him, her head resting on his shoulder as she stared wide eyed into the floor and gritted her teeth. She could feel her virginity tear inside as he thrusted into her, grabbing her buttocks with his cold hands for support and ramming her into the wall. Crimson tears formed in her already ruby eyes from pain and disbelief. This was not what she was expecting when Valek said he had wanted to talk.

Valek used Tathiel’s legs as leverage to deepen himself inside her. For Tathiel the pain was slowly subsiding and giving way to pleasure as she released a few embarrassed moans into Valek’s wavy hair. He was silent all the way, not making a single sound as he recreated Tathiel’s fantasies for her. She cringed, a wet feeling sliding down her legs. She was still latched onto Valek, her nails digging into his long crushed velvet coat.

When the act was over with and they were both panting, Tathiel’s body becoming limp with tiredness and a return of the stinging pain. Valek held her up, leaning her against the stone wall. He ran his fingers along the inside of her thighs looking down at the blood on them. He licked it off tenderly, Tathiel watching him with a look of confusion. He used a spare piece of cloth that he had residing in one of his pockets to clear her up and took her back to his room for rest.’

Her Punishment for Failure was Rape by her Husband?

Gríma gave her a warm comforted smile, but Tathiel’s expression went cold, “He raped me Gríma,” she said bluntly, her voice suddenly becoming trembled. She hid her face from the man next to her as emotions welled up in her eyes. She didn’t want to see Gríma’s reaction, “When I told him I hadn’t gone through with the plan and killed Lord Elrond, my punishment was rape. It’s not the first time he’s done it. It’s never bothered me before. I never really counted it as rape, but on that night…the night after I first slept with you, I did. After that night I counted myself as being with you, so when Valek forced himself on me….I counted it as rape…”he hung her head low, the build of emotions too much. A tear of red trickled down her near translucent cheeks and she sniffed audibly, trying to suppress her tears.

Gríma was naturally shocked. Tathiel had never spoken to him before about this ‘rape’ Valek liked to act out on her. He guessed just as Tathiel had said that she never believed it to be rape until she counted herself as belonging to him. He could feel his own tears stinging his eyes as images of his childhood began to taunt him again. He lowered a hand to Tathiel, pulling away a shock of red and black hair and tucking it behind her ear. He could her crimson tears running freely down her cheeks. Suddenly without warning, at his soft touch, Tathiel shot up and threw her arms around Gríma’s chest and sobbed loudly into the fabric of his clothes.

No Mercy

‘He raced the streets, tears streaming down his pale cheeks like a waterfall. He looked over his shoulder, terror shredding him to pieces. He could see them following, shouting out his nickname as loud as they could. “Wormtongue, Wormtongue, Wormtongue!”

The adults didn’t care. They sniggered and laughed at him, pointing and mocking. His senses had blurred over with fear and before he knew it he felt himself lunge forward into the dirt. He had been so intent on getting away that he had never noticed the snapped off branch that had lain in his path. His right foot caught bitterly on the branch and sent him careering into the path, twisting his ankle and inevitably spraining it. All at once he felt the tremendous weight of 5 or so bodies pile up on him, each throwing out punches and kicks wherever Gríma’s flesh appeared. Gríma’s shrieks of pain and agony as the older children fought for a chance to get him in the face. He attempted to curl up into a ball to protect his frail abdomen, bringing up his thin arms over his face, blocking any kicks that were aimed at his head.

His voice was muffled and gagged with his hair that streamed over his wet face, tears exploding forth as his cries turned to screams when something sharp punctured his back followed by hysteric laughter. They pulled viciously at his raven, pulling out clumps of hair and spitting at him.

Gríma cowered into himself, sobbing violently as the bullies, satisfied with the damage they had done they departed the scene, laughing and giggling at Gríma’s expense. Gríma remained flat against the floor, shivering feverishly, blood dripping from his nose and mouth. The clothing on his back was stained red, a small slash in the fabric and his skin indicating a stab wound.

It took a while for Gríma to muster up the strength to look up, saliva and blood passing past his lips. He feebly spat a mouthful of it out and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his clothing. His blue eyes still leaked tears and he cringed in pain when he moved into a sitting position, a stinging sensation generating from the wound in his back. Passing people stared at him disgust, their blonde hair gleaming behind them. Gríma was an outcast in this city; his unnatural coloured skin was the colour of moonlight and his dark, tangled hair was the colour of darkness itself. He was an abnormality to the Rohan race itself, and for that he was punished bitterly.’

Once Again, Grima is Shown no Mercy

Gríma was around fifteen when he collapsed into the door of his house, his face a bloody mess saturated with salty tears. His hand quivered slightly, a steady drool of crimson hanging from his fingers. It was clear that the other boys had maybe attempted to kill him, deep cuts and lacerations littering his back and legs. Gríma whimpered heavily, hysterical with fear and pain, yet to weak to open the door and crawl to his room. His sobbing became intensified when the door was swiftly yanked back by his angry father.

Gríma fell to the floor, cowering into a ball, his blood creating messy patterns on the wooden floor. This ultimately did not please his father who shouted at him angrily and kicked him in the side. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing coming home in a state like this!” another kick was shot into Gríma’s side.

Gríma’s body convulsed violently as his father kicked him, his throat wailing in pain and screaming for his father to help him. His father ignored his son’s pleas.

“You’re getting blood all the over the floor you little cunt!” Galmod spat at Gríma, grabbing a rough handful of raven hair and yanking Gríma to his feet and sending a clenched fist into Gríma’s stomach. “This is what you get you little shit for fighting and making a mess of my floor!” Gríma heaved as the fist sunk into his already badly bruised stomach, causing him to cough up a large amount of blood which dribbled past his lips and chin in thick threads.

Galmod dropped the lighter young man onto the stairs, his body creating a sickening thud as it made contact with the hard wooden steps. Gríma lay there, shivering and crying. Galmod had had enough. He loosened the belt around his waist, pulling it free from his attire and wrapping an end around his thick set wrist and hand. Gríma remained motionless; not moving until his father suddenly cracked the leather weapon against his back. Gríma arched himself forward at the belt was used like a whip upon him once again as so often happened.

A sharp ear piercing shriek ripped through Gríma’s vocal cords as the pain stung into his back, followed by another smack from the belt. He felt something break inside, near his chest and cradled into himself as the sharp internal pain stole his breath. He had unknowingly just broken a rib, and the pain from it froze Gríma in agony. He couldn’t move unless his body did so as a reaction from the belt that repeatedly slashed across his back.

“Please….stop!” Gríma begged, his tears choking him along with the thick mixture of blood and saliva that leaked from his lips. Gríma firmly believed he was going to die at that second. One more stroke of the belt from his father and that would be it. Fear instantly swallowed him up, strangling his body of air and forcing his muscles into fits as a seizure overtook him, sending his senses into an explosion of darkness.’

Tathiel stared wide eyed at Gríma, a thin red tear escaping her eyes and trickling down her cheek. “Oh Gríma…” she whispered, cradling him into her arms for support. Still Gríma continued to tell her the story, explaining that he never felt right after that night. He easily got sick and weakened dramatically, his muscles and bones becoming dainty and he walked slightly hunched over. He concluded the story to Tathiel.

‘That night Gríma awoke from unconsciousness with a surprised feeling. He had thought that he had died when he felt himself fall into a pit of darkness and was shocked to suddenly find himself in his bed. Outside nightfall had set in, thin rays of pale light entering the room. Gríma was still in an extreme amount of pain. His muscles had stiffened and tensed, allowing bruises to appear and cuts to form scabs over his already badly scared skin.

He crawled into a sitting position, his eyes darting around the room for something. He found it by the edge of his bed, a glistening appearance to it allowing him to recognize the blade. He had recently begun to self harm, his arms covered in deep self inflicted wounds which he hid from everyone apart from himself. It was a way of controlling his anger for him, and sometimes stopped him from going all the way and making that fatal cut which would end all his problems.

Little did he know that his father was silently creeping up the stairs to check up on him. Gríma quietly pulled back the sleeve of his clothing and held the cold blade against his beaten skin. This time Gríma had enough. He was sick and tired of life and the abuse he had to put up with. Tonight he was going to finish himself of before the other children could take delight in doing it themselves.

He started on the fleshy part of his skin, digging the blade deep into the muscle, cringing as the pain began and blood oozed heavily from the wound. He slowly brought the blade downwards, nearing the vein that held the answer to his problems. The blade touched the vein. His father reached the top of the stairs. The blade cut into the skin of Gríma’s wrist. And Galmod stormed into his bedroom, the door opening too quickly for Gríma to hide his secret.
Galmod took one glance at Gríma, his horrified expression telling all, then one to the knife which quivered above his bleeding wrist. Gríma’s father instantly knew what was going on. Gríma was attempting suicide, and the mere realisation that his son was actually about to do it drove him crazy.

“You stupid boy!” he hissed, “No son of mine gives up that easily just because he can’t learn to stay out of fights and take his punishment like a man!”
Gríma was stunned into silence. He remained still, watching his father with terrified eyes as he stormed up to him, his eyes creased in madness. His father instantly snatched up the knife from Gríma’s grip and back handed him fiercely. Upon contact with the well aimed back hand that crashed against Gríma’s jaw, he flew over the bed and crashed nosily into the wall, collapsing to the floor.

Galmod walked over to Gríma, knife in hand and kicked him hard in the ribs. Gríma shrieked crazily, his voice shrill and sharp as pain returned to him. “Think I’m just going to let you give up!” Galmod cursed, kneeling by his spluttering child. He grabbed Gríma’s greasy mop of hair, roughly pulling up his head so that there eyes met. “You ever do anything like this again,” His voice was cold and threatening, “And I will personally do you the deed of murdering yourself.”

He roughly threw Gríma back to the floor, his face wet with tears once more. Gríma watched as his father left his room, closing the door behind him. And then his tears burst forth, both from pain and despair. He wished his life would end there, death seeming like heaven compared to his misery of a life.

He dragged himself into the corner of his room, his broken rib causing him great agony and distress. There he remained for the night, staring into space with wild, disturbed eyes.’