Hey guys. I know I shouldn't be starting another story, but I really wanted to do a Tenth Walker story. So, here it is.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, or Eragon.

When the doorbell rings at three o'clock in the morning, it's never good news. Really. Don't answer the door when it's pitch black outside. I was up in my room when it happened, packing my backpack. I was running away. Again. I made it a point to run away every month. Not that my uncle ever did anything to me, he just hated me, probably because of my ears. They were pointy, like one of the elves in Eragon. I liked them. They made me different. Of course, I had hated him on sight, and made it fairly obvious, so that was probably another reason.

So there I was, frozen in my room, my packed bag in one hand, my long knife in the other, waiting for my uncle to get out of bed and find me. The doorbell rang again, and I swore under my breath. Quickly, I shoved my knife into the makeshift leather sheaf at my side. I had made it a while back after deciding the woods behind the grocery store were the best place to hide. I had also stolen one of my uncle's hunting knives; the same one that hung from my hip. He still didn't know it was gone. I had spent a couple weeks in the forest learning how to use it with a little help from Google. Okay, maybe a lot of help. I wasn't bad, I could catch myself a meal easy, and skinning it was no problem. I had grown kind of immune to the gory of it all. I had watched a ton of scary movies with gross stuff in them to try to desensitize myself. It worked pretty well, surprisingly. At least, I didn't vomit after I skinned something.

I shook myself back to the present. I really needed to stop going off on inner monologues. I needed to pay attention. Quickly, I walked down the stairs, hugging the wall in an attempt not to make noise. I moved silently to the front hall. Before the person outside the door could make more noise, and get me caught, I wrenched the door open. No one was there. I scowled, and turned around to go back inside so I could have a little more rest before heading out, but something caught my eye. Well, not something, exactly. More like there was nothing outside my door. At all. I couldn't see the stars, the front porch, or the street lamps. Holy merde. I pressed a hand to my mouth in an attempt to stop a panic attack. I took a step backward, but me being me, and me having the worst luck in the entire world, well, you can guess what happened. I managed to trip over my own feet, and dive headfirst into the blackness. I could feel myself falling, which was strange, since my porch was only a few feet off the ground. But, this probably wasn't Earth anymore. Most people would think me crazy for being so accepting. But really, I've always believed in other worlds. I mean, with my imagination, it's hard not to. It could also be the fact that my ears are pointy. I mean, that's really strange! But oh well.

These thoughts had taken up only a few seconds while I was falling, and I hadn't been paying attention again. The blackness didn't feel normal anymore, it felt evil. I began to feel something pushing on my mind. It felt wrong, like it was not fully alive. To be honest, I really didn't like it, so I tried shoving back. To my surprise, the pressure on my mind receded.

"Yes!" I cheered mentally. Then I looked down. Or, the direction I assumed was down. I could see a light, not far down, and my eyes got big as the implication hit me. I was going to hit the ground, and I had been falling for a while. Most likely I would break something, hopefully nothing worse. The light got bigger and bigger, and I shut my eyes, bracing myself for the impact.