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The Road That You Go by Morbidmuch

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Story notes:
I've re-written this story half a dozen times, and I've finally decided on something I'm happy with.

This is a tenth walked fic, so if you don't like tenth walker fics just turn around now. One of the main reasons I have for writing this fic is that I love a good Legolas/OC story, but sadly amongst the hundred stories there are, only a handful is actually good (in my opinion anyway). So, I decided to try to write my own spin of a tenth walked fic. I hope you'll like it.
Chapter notes:
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, settings, and so on are the property of J.R.R Tolkien. No copyright infringement is intended.
The Road That You Go

“Oh come on!” I cry out and throw my arms in the air when the bus turns out from the curb only a few seconds before I reach it. It’s late, and I’m tired. The rain that is profusely pouring down is most likely giving me the appearance of a drenched rat, and I curse myself to Hades for not remembering to bring an umbrella. Walking to the bus stop I eye the schedule, and feel like crying in sheer frustration when I realize that it was the last bus I just missed. Bloody great. In the distance I hear a church bell chime 12 as I cross the street to get to the nearest tube station. I can feel the rain water soaking me to the bone, and my hair sticks in wet tresses to my face.

My shoes make a squishy sound as I walk inside the tube station, but at least I’m out of the rain. The entire station is deserted, and it’s giving me a creepy feeling. One of the lights are blinking, reminding me of a bad horror movie. There isn’t more than five minutes until the train is arriving, and I wrap my arms around my torso as I stand and wait. I still have that eerie feeling, and I nervously glance around. Blame it on an overactive mind and watching too many horror movies. I’m going to let my brother take all the responsibility for that one.

I turn my eyes back to the floor and start humming quietly to myself. It’s a habit I’ve developed for when I’m in quiet places. I’ve never really liked silence. Then, my humming stops. I hear footsteps. My heartbeat rises up, and I’m truly scared. It’s completely irrational since I don’t know who was coming, but still. The footsteps stop, and I can tell that it’s not so far away from me. I carefully glance in that direction, and see a man standing there. He looks harmless enough; dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, as drenched from the rain as I am. Even though he doesn’t look menacing in any way, I hold my laptop bag a bit tighter to my body, willing with all my being for the train to come soon.

Then my blood freezes to ice when I hear his footsteps again, this time coming closer to me. I stand as rooted to the floor, I can’t move a limb. I can smell him now; old sweat, cigarettes and alcohol. It makes me gag. Then I hear a cocking sound and my head snap up to look at him. He is sneering, and is pointing a black gun at me.

“Give me your bag, and I won’t have to hurt you.”

Fearing for my life, I silently hand him both my purse and my laptop bag. My lower lip starts to tremble, and I feel tears leak up in my eyes. He eyes me, his beady eyes coming to rest on the pendant at my throat.

“The necklace too.” He gestures with the gun for me to take it off.

Not knowing why, I cry out, “No!” The pendant had been my grandmother’s, and she had given me it just hours before she died.

He grabs my arm, and I cry out in pain. I struggle against his hold, and almost manage to break his grip on my arm. Then I feel like he just punched me in the chest. I stumble back, in shock. I raise my hand to touch my chest, and when I pull my hand back it’s stained in blood. A burning sensation spreads like wildfire through my body, and every breath hurts. I fall down on my knees, my knees not supporting me. I hear running footsteps, and when I look up I’m once again alone. He ran away. I try to stand up, but I’m dizzy, and fighting to remain conscious.

I know now that I’m going to die. Alone in the middle of the night, in a tube station. All because some guy thought it was a good idea to mug me. Tears leak from my eyes. I’m never going to do the things I wanted to. Get a tattoo; travel to Italy to study art; get married; have kids. I won’t have any of it.

I feel my body sinking fully to the ground, and black spots appear every time I blink.

Everything goes black, and I am no more.
Chapter end notes:
Like it? Loathe it? Love it? Let me know.