Ch.2 - You Don't Know Me

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Growls escape my lips as I continue to punch the oak, feeling an intense sting build. The cool air whistles through the thick forest and it sends chills down my spine. A few rays of light shine through the branches and soon fades thanks to forest. Blood oozes from my knuckles that I so carefully bandaged yesterday and the crimson coats the white. A thin layer of sweat is on my body and I'm wearing nothing but my trousers and tunic. The cloak I have is hanging on a branch not too far away and Orcist is still on my hip. There's no way I'm ever putting that aside.

When I woke up this morning, an unknown source of rage had surfaced. Which is why I'm currently in this forest, punching nature. Beating something is honestly the only way to make it fade, since I have no mate here to calm me. This kind of madness is the type I can't really control, since it heightens my bloodlust. If I allow it to stay then I'll end up destroying villages, like many have said. Sweat drips from my brow and my rapid breaths show just how tired I am.

I've felt this way before, back when things seemed ok but it was years ago. The things I did that day haunt my memories but I can't take it back. People constantly remind me about it everyday but they don't understand. Yes. I killed people but I'm the victim here. I growl and hit the bark even harder, when the memory starts to show.

- 7 Years Ago -

The people in the market continue to chat away, looking for things to buy and sell. Even in the mornings this town is still pretty awake. A few Hobbits pass by with carts full of food and I automatically think of Bilbo. I really do hope that hobbit is ok. We weren't really able to say a proper goodbye. Bag End is pretty close from here but I haven't had the guts to go see him. I know he won't remember me and I don't want to run into Gandalf. Knowing him, he'll be the first to regain his memories since he's a wizard.

I wouldn't want him to carry my burden as well, which is why he can't ever find me. He'll instantly start being protective and will come up with different theories on what happened. He might also bring others involved, like Lord Elrond for help. I don't want them to be seen as criminals because of what people think of me. They'll be accused of helping with my so called 'murders.' I want them to just live their lives, as fantastic beings.

The grass soon turns into dirt as I enter the market and I pull my hood up to avoid the dust. I scan the area, my pace quick so that Alavar won't be alone for too long. He does know how to use small weapons but even so, his current strength won't faze anyone. I stop once I reach the vegetable stands and make a list of what I need. The woman in charge gives me a smile and patiently waits for my order. I'm so glad Al isn't a picky eater. After judging each one for freshness, I settle for some carrots, onions, tomatoes and garlic. Not the best things but it'll have to do. I pay the kind woman as she hands me a bag of the things I requested.

I hold it in one hand and move across the path, to the fruit side. A man waves hello and just like the previous owner, waits as well. I lean down and eye the different choices, seeing a few people move away. The judging whispers hit my ears but leaves me unfazed for it's something I've gotten used to. I'm the only person that carries a sword everywhere I go. The scar on my face doesn't help me look innocent either. At least no one knows I'm a Skin-Changer. The rumors are only about me being a murderer but that'll most likely escalate. I sigh and point down at the berries and apples. The man smiles and puts them in the bag I'm already carrying. I then pick out some lemons and oranges, paying right after. Perhaps I can make some stew like Bombur used to make.

I smile at the thought and march over to the meat stand. My eyes look over the hanging flesh and before I pick, a frighten chill goes down my spine. I breathe in deeply to keep my composure and point at the venison. My hearts beats rapidly in my chest and I instinctively reach down for Orcrist. The butcher gives me the package and I quickly give him the coins. I turn away and trot down the path, their hard gaze never leaving my form. Who ever they are, they're defiantly good at being undetected. It took me this long just to notice them and now, I can't head back. It's either lead them away from my house or just kill them. I grunt and take a left off the trail, hearing the soft footsteps follow. I'll settle on the first option. I don't want any of those rumors coming true. I'm not a murder or some monster.

Comatose | Sequel To: Enigma | Where stories live. Discover now