It seemed darker than usual at the inn that Frodo and the others were staying at that night. A feeling of discomfort passed over the hobbit, and Frodo reached up to hold onto the ring that was on a chain around his neck. He didn’t think it would make him feel better, but it did distract him from the darkness, at least for a moment. Not realizing what he was doing, Frodo slipped the ring on his finger, and the scenery around him changed to unsettling shades of grey and black. What happened next did not surprise Frodo, as it had occurred the other times that he had put on the ring; it was a low and harsh sounding hiss that seemed to fill his ears.

What did surprise Frodo was the orange color that seemed to seep into the grey and black shades that surrounded him. Shaken, he slowly turned around to where the color seemed to be coming from, and then stumbled back a few feet, greatly frightened by what he saw. For a tall figure in black armor with sharp edges seemed to be coming toward him, confidence in every step. Frodo felt that he knew who the figure was, but it couldn’t be, for this had never happened to him before.

Shaking like a leaf, the hobbit couldn’t seem to get his body to move off of the ground. But then, if it was who he thought it was, running wouldn’t get him anywhere. Frodo stared up in complete horror as the figure reached up to take off the part of their armor that covered their face, for he did not know what he would see. But Frodo just crouched close to the ground, not sure what he could do to stop what was happening, for he had forgotten about the ring on his finger. As the headgear came off of the individual’s head, Frodo’s hands dug into the ground below him. That was all he could do at the moment, even though all his senses were telling him to run.

White hair flowed out of the helmet that had been covering the individual’s face and cascaded down past their shoulders. Frodo then knew who the figure was, for the orange glow that had been seeping into his surroundings was coming from the figure’s eyes. He had seen that glow before. The unknown figure was the dark lord Sauron; Frodo was certain of that much.

“I found you.” The voice that came out of Sauron’s mouth was as harsh sounding as Frodo had expected. The smile, if it could be called that, crossed over the dark lord’s face and it was truly terrifying.

Frodo had seemed to have lost all capacity to speak. For what could he say that would get him out of this situation? How had he got here in the first place? Frodo couldn’t seem to remember. Letting out a shaky breath, the hobbit’s hands clenched, and he seemed to come back to reality, for there was a burning sensation on his left hand, specifically from the finger which had the one ring on it.

Feeling the burning of the ring seemed to bring Frodo back to his senses, and, he slowly reached with his other hand, never looking away from the dark lord that was leaning down towards him. Frodo was intimidated, that was for sure, and he wanted to get out of the situation, fast. The hobbit then yanked off the ring with all the strength he had, and the scenery slowly changed back to the inn where he and his companions had been staying.

Quickly looking around him, Frodo’s breaths were coming out in gasps, truly afraid that Sauron might be nearby. But, everything in the inn seemed to be normal, and the hobbit had not awakened his friends. Frodo thought to himself that he would have to be more careful about putting on the ring next time; if there was a next time. For Frodo never wanted to experience that ever again.

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