[ CW ] Tolkein and Lovecraft are both prolific writers of their generes and are starkly different from each other , but what if they wrote each others work ?

I feel myself weaken against the tendrils of insanity looping and slithering through my mind. Faster and faster as I struggle through the volcanic ash on the slopes of Mount Doom. Professor Gandalf refused to go further than the Gates of Mordor go further, having revealed himself to be an elder in the cult of Sauron, a being spanning dimensions and eons unknown. There at the gates, he raised his staff and chanted, `` Fly'uhyu fewls'' in a sombre monotone, like a grandfather clock. 
 
 I can not Sauron's eye, but I feel it piercing the back of my head. Although an observer may say, I am steadfast in my expedition, my ascent knows no purpose now. I am like stone from slingshot, hurling myself into the eldritch sinkhole of lava and despair. I do n't know what compels me forward, knowing only that nothing compels me away. I see the creature Gollum in my mind's eye. Or so I tell myself. I remember him being prepared for the roast my the orcs, shrieking in horror as he watched them devour Aragon and Samwise. They feasted to welcome his coming, they told me. They let me walk. I was bequeathed to him. The strange smell of sea breeze fills my lungs. The Mithril feels so heavy upon my chest, I take it off. Onward I go. I must go. 
 
 `` Fly'uhyu fewls'' 
 

