Misplaced Revenge

Chapters 8-10 (fanfic Monkees' Story)

"As the search for a missing David Jones drags on into its fifth day, officials still have no leads on the search for the missing singer. The remaining three Monkees stick to the claim that it's not a publicity stunt." "Of course it's not a publicity stunt. We're genuinely concerned for Davy, and we wouldn't do something like that," Mike said. "In other news, the Royal Blue Jewelers was broken into yesterday," the announcer continued. Davy groaned and rolled over. He was getting a headache, trying to contact the others, and there was still no success. He looked around the room in the darkness, wondering what was going on. Suddenly, the radio shut off, and the dark figure entered the room. "I hope you are ready to die," she informed him. Davy sighed. "Actually, I'm not," he replied. His captor laughed. "Too bad," she replied. "Because today is your last day alive." "Why do you want to kill me?" he asked. "What have I ever done to you?" "If you don't know then you're more dense than I thought you were, Davy," the voice replied. Davy tried another tactic. "What did you put in me?" he asked. "Just a harmless drug," she replied. "Drugs are never harmless," he replied pragmatically. "Why did you give it to me?" "To make sure you wouldn't escape," she replied. "The drugs are harmless to you. You were on them before."

"You were the one then? I knew it! I knew it! You did steal my files, didn't you? Why? What would it do for you?" he asked. Then he realized something. "I'm not as dumb as you might think, Davy," the figure replied. "The doctors might have thought it was your own delusion, but I know better. I know it was the truth." "What was the truth?" Davy asked. "That you can contact your friends. That you wouldn't be able to with this drug," she replied. "What are you talking about?" Davy asked, playing innocent.

The figure stepped forward and grabbed his neck with surprising force. As she stepped out of the dark, Davy could see the green eyes staring back at him in anger. But also a hauntingly familiar stare. "Don't lie to me," she snapped in anger. "I know the truth, and you can't hide it from me." Davy couldn't respond; her hands were wrapped around his neck too tightly for him to speak. He gasped for air. "Who-are you?" he whispered, hoarsely. "Recognize me?" she asked. He nodded slightly. "You should. You killed my sister." She let go of his neck and threw him backwards with force. "Your sister?" he asked. She didn't respond. "Just understand this. You're going to die," she told him. "Tomorrow." She turned on her heels and walked away, leaving Davy to wonder about him.

He rolled over and groaned again. His neck was sore, and he gasped for air. His voice would probably be sore for awhile. One way or the other he was in pain and he couldn't sleep. With a sigh, he stared up at the ceiling. 'Uncle Davy?' he thought he heard a whisper say. He sat up. Could it be? Could someone be contacting him? "Who's there?" he whispered. "I can hear you." 'It's me, Uncle Davy,' he heard the voice reply. 'Thomas. It's been hard to find you.' 'Thomas,' he thought to himself. 'What's going on?' Knowing it was Thomas, he didn't need to speak aloud anymore, and instead thought what he said. 'Are you alright Uncle Davy?' Thomas asked. 'I think so,' Davy replied. 'Thomas, I couldn't contact you.' 'Don't worry, Uncle Davy,' Thomas replied. 'We'll find you.' 'Hurry Thomas,' Davy said. 'Hurry.' He sensed that Thomas was gone, however, and sighed.

Davy lifted his head and groaned as the bright light assaulted his eyes once more. He blinked and spotted the dark figure come towards him in the light once more. "Are you ready yet?" she asked. "Ready?" he asked. Davy forced himself to sit up. He didn't want this enemy to see him weak. He couldn't give in to her. "To die," she replied, and Davy saw the smile on her face. "Who are you?" he asked. He leaned forward as much as the chains around him would allow and studied her features. His captor was slightly taller than him. She had dark hair and emerald green eyes that were somehow eerily familiar. Davy stared towards her, trying to place her. He didn't know her but she was familiar. "My name is Melissa Stratton," she replied, a mischievous smile appearing on her face as she watched his reaction. Davy gasped. "E-Eliza," he whispered, almost inaudible. Eliza had been his wife, or almost his wife. She had been killed. Flashes of memory whirled past his eyes. The gunshot, the blood, the life lost. Melissa laughed, and the laughter sent chills down his spine. "Then you do remember," she said in a surprised voice. "I'd thought you'd forgotten her." "This is about 'er?" Davy asked. "About Eliza?"

"You killed my sister, Davy. Admit it," Melissa told him, stepping forward and bending over so that she was staring him in the eyes. "I didn't kill 'er," Davy replied. "Why would I kill 'er? She was supposed to be my wife." "I don't know your motive, Davy, but it's your fault she's dead," Melissa replied. "I didn't kill 'er, Melissa," he told her, keeping his voice calm. "She was murdered by a foreign spy who wanted to use my...abilities for 'is own purposes. 'E was aiming for me and she jumped in the line of fire. It was nothing more than an accident." Melissa turned the other way. When she looked back, her eyes were blazing with fire. "Lies," she shouted. "All lies to save your own life." Davy shook his head. "No Melissa," he repeated. "It's the truth." "I don't believe it," she replied, turning away. "You'll die in the morning. You'll die and you'll join her." "Melissa..." Davy began, but she didn't reply. Instead she turned and left the room, her high heels clicking rhythmically as she walked out, flipping the light off as she walked. Davy sighed.

Davy hadn't slept much the previous night. This was partly because it was difficult to sleep chained to the table he was lying on, and partly because he was worried that Thomas wouldn't make it in time to save his life. He didn't want to admit it, and if anyone had asked, he wouldn't have admitted it, but he was worried. He lay on his back, with his chained arms and legs on the sides of him and stared at the ceiling, thinking of Eliza the whole night. Morning must have come because Melissa entered the room and told him that it was. There was no light in the dim room he was in. Davy assumed it was a basement he was in. "Are you ready to die?" Melissa asked him as she undid the chains that bound his ankles. Davy didn't respond. He just looked at her. She undid the chains on his wrists, but he made no move to resist her. He wasn't sure why, but he figured that resisting would only make it more painful and he didn't want that.

'I hope you get here in time, Thomas,' Davy thought to himself. Melissa had unchained him from the table and now tied his arms behind him. "You're being cooperative," she commented. He didn't respond. "I'm surprised." "I didn't kill your sister," he told her in a defeated voice. "It's your fault she's dead," Melissa maintained. "I didn't kill her. I couldn't stop it. I tried," he told her. He was trying to stall for time, to give Thomas and the others more of a chance to get here. "Yeah, well, you didn't try hard enough," Melissa snapped back. "There was nothing I could have done, Melissa," he told her. Melissa whirled around and stared at him, her eyes blazing anger. "If you weren't there she wouldn't have died," she told him. "If she hadn't known you she'd still be alive." "You don't know that. Maybe she was destined to die." "No! Lies!" Melissa shouted. She grabbed Davy's shoulders and began to shake him. "They're all lies." "You can't change the past, Melissa," he told her calmly, knowing that she wouldn't listen if he shouted. "Killing me won't bring her back." "No," she replied, straightening up. "But it will avenge her murder."

The attic Davy was led to was a dim place. The ceiling was easily nine feet high but there was little light. He entered the attic and saw right away how Melissa intended to kill him. There was a rope hanging from a high rafter. And at the end of that rope was a noose. Davy gulped. Melissa led him to a milk crate that was under the noose. "Get on there," she told him. Davy hesitated, but stepped up on to the box. "Melissa, now listen to me, please," he pleaded, turning around. "Shut up!" she shouted. "I've had enough of your lies! Shut up!" She stepped behind him, slapping him on the back of the head. "You're going to die, Davy. Just accept it."

"Killing me won't accomplish anything," he told Melissa as she knotted the noose around his neck. "It will avenge my sister's death." "I didn't kill her. If you want to avenge her death go and kill the man who murdered her. Not me." "It's your fault she's dead," Melissa replied in a mumble. "No amount of talking on your part will save you now. You're going to die." "Why hanging?" he asked, genuinely wondering. He glanced up at the rope around his neck. "Because it will make you suffer," she replied with a smile. "No more stalling," she announced, her face becoming serious again. "You are going to die."

Davy wasn't prepared for the exact moment, but Melissa kicked the crate out from under him. He felt a sharp pain in his neck, and a coarseness where the stiff rope rubbed his neck. He thought he heard Melissa's laughter, but he couldn't be sure. The rope was tight around his neck and it was hard to breathe. He moved his arms, but they were tied tightly behind him. He felt white static in his head, and his vision began to blur. He closed his eyes. Over the static in his head he heard Melissa's laughter. Sure of what it was now, he prepared himself.

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