Unquiet
Things

Horror lurking in unexpected places is when horror horrors the hardest. I did not expect to find it in Season Two, Episode Seven of Rings of Power, grabbing me by the throat and dragging me face-first into some of my deepest fears and traumas, but. Well. Here we are.

For those not watching, The Rings of Power is a fantasy series set in Tolkien’s Middle-earth, way before Frodo and his merry band set off to toss a ring into a volcano. This, at least to my way of thinking, is not exactly prime real estate for personal horror. And yet, there I was, one moment watching pretty people with pointy ears and enjoying my takeout sushi, and the next feeling brutally emotionally sideswiped and wanting to throw up my spicy tuna roll.

Sauron disguised as Annatar, Lord of Gifts and emissary of the Valar, has been insidiously and methodically dismantling the elven smith Celebrimbor’s grip on reality for the past few episodes. The sinister manipulation and devious gaslighting were off the charts. Annatar’s nefarious playbook is straight out of Abusers 101. He slyly isolates Celebrimbor, cutting him off from his support system by deceptively convincing others that the elf-lord is unstable. A classic, underhanded move. He love-bombs Celebrimbor with calculated praise and hollow promises of greatness, then swiftly and cruelly pulls the rug out, leaving him constantly off-balance and vulnerable. I squirmed in my seat, horrified at the way he maliciously twists Celebrimbor’s words, using them against him…it’s the slow, poisonous erosion of self-trust, that loss of all control because someone has craftily convinced you that they know better…it’s like watching someone being mercilessly filleted alive, their sense of self peeled away layer by excruciating layer, and they’re perversely thanking the sadistic butcher for the privilege.

Watching Annatar crush Celebrimbor’s spirit was like seeing a star collapse into a black hole – a once-brilliant light being inexorably consumed by darkness, with devastating consequences for everything in its orbit. This wasn’t just about one person’s mind being twisted – it was the unraveling of an entire community. Celebrimbor, the prince of his people, trusted and loved, reduced to a shadow of himself. His reputation in tatters, his life’s work corrupted, and the lives of those who depended on him left in ruins. The collateral damage was almost too much to bear, seeing trust turn to suspicion, love to fear, as Annatar’s web of deceit spread through Eregion.  I felt sick, angry, helpless – all too familiar feelings bubbling up as I watched this fantasy world crumble in ways that felt all too real.

And Sauron? Annatar? That smooth-talking, gaslighting piece of shit? Every time he appeared, it was like every version of myself being violently punched in the gut twice over, leaving me winded and reeling. My body remembered before my mind could catch up – heart thundering like an explosion in my chest, breath so shallow and ragged I was certain I was suffocating. Annatar wasn’t just channeling an abuser – he was channeling mine, and the realization crashed over me in a suffocating wave of shame, fury, and helplessness. The world narrowed to a pinpoint, and I was drowning in a sea of remembered trauma, helplessly pulled under again and again by the relentless undertow of manipulation and fear.

I was beyond physically ill. It wasn’t just costumed actors anymore (and wow, these costumes are awful) – it had somehow turned into my own personal theatre of horror. My brain was violently regurgitating years of suppressed memories, moments when I’d been convinced I was worthless, unlovable except by the very person systematically destroying me. I couldn’t even muster the strength to turn it off. I just sat there, convulsing with silent sobs, as the credits rolled, feeling as if I’d been eviscerated and left to die on my own couch. This is the kind of horror that doesn’t politely bow out when the episode ends. It lingers like a toxic miasma, it festers in the deepest recesses of your mind, it echoes in every quiet moment, threatening to drown out all else.

Echoing. It’s funny how that word keeps popping up in these reviews. From the literal Stir of Echoes to the psychological labyrinth of Broadcast Signal Intrusion, and now this sucker punch from a fantasy show in my comfort genre (LOtR is a whole genre as far as I am concerned.) And maybe that’s the real horror – not the initial shock, but the way it bounces around in your head long after, impossible to shake off, leaving you wondering what else is hiding in the shadows of your mind, waiting to be triggered by a random elf in a bad wig on TV.

P.S. I know this post was a huge freaking bummer and also probably a bit triggering for some people. I am truly very sorry. There was one thing that occurred to me about a character unrelated to this post that made me laugh, though!

Day Five of 31 Days Of Horror in years past: 2023 // 2022 // 2021

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