Characters: A handful of Orcs in the ruins of Utumno during Melkor's captivity.
Warnings: Some uncomfortable imagery.
Disclaimer: I am not J.R.R. Tolkien and I make nothing from this but my own entertainment.
A/N: Catching up, one drabble at a time. Following on from this drabble.
Maker of Misery
“Pain and terror. That’s how He cut us out of quivering flesh – our Master, the Dark Lord...”
His shadow splashed huge against the broken wall. An uneasy whisper flickered round his little audience. He grinned at them, showing off his yellowed tusks.
The noise from the back cell had quietened. She had been screaming since three-meals-past and was weakening; he could hear her sobs. He shifted on his haunches and lowered his voice. “Taller’n towers, He was. We were slaves then. Born by the knife to die by it, we were. When the end came, we died... and He fell.”