Behold! The Nightmare presents…

Title: Bring Me to Life

Author: Lain Monroe

Rating: PG-13.

Summery: Two leaders (Micah & Bridgi) return to life to find that they are both alive and, somehow, chosen to lead together… Will they succeed this time? Or will they meet the same bloody end? Or even worse; will it be at the hands of one another?

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Micah, Children of the Corn, He Who Walks Behind the Rows, or any of that stuff… I do own Bridgette, Timothy, and Gideon. Shindo is owned by Shindo. Tabitha is owned by Gwen.

"Trust not those whose desire to punish is great…"

-Fredrick Nietztch

  Micah arched a brow.

  He arched a brow at her, sitting there, with her legs crossed, preparing for him to leave so that she could hang her hand and…

  … And what?

  And return to the Blue Place.

  It was only that same evening… the evening after they took care of Shindo and her rebel group… Shindo was being held somewhere down town… watched 24/7 incase she tried anything funny.

  The outlanders were going to be there soon… perhaps, even, as early as the next night…

  She's planning something, Micah thought… and then scolded himself for being so suspicious. But still asked: "Why have you chosen to go to the Blue Place today?"

  Micah didn't have the ability to visit the Blue Place. It was something special only Bridgette could do.

  Her eyes flew to wide innocence. "For more studies… in case something like this may have happened before. I would like to see if there is anything to help us with our little outlander dilemma… what? Why did you think?"

  Micah shook his head. "Nothing, never mind."

  ... and he left.

  Bridgette frowned... and closed her eyes; meditating until she was in the Blue Place again. When she opened her eyes; there she was. She stood up and waited for He Who Walks Behind the Rows, as always.

  "Bridgette? Lovely to see you." Said the voice she could never locate... His voice. "How many I help you this day?"

  "Nothing much," Bridgette said, softly, smiling. "I only wish to study past leader's terms again..."

  "As you wish... Is that all?"

  "Yes."

  The voice was gone and the boxes appeared... 12 inch (height) by 15 inch (width) boxed images... that appeared right at eye length and circled her... all with different images in them... each one a different leader with a different story... and all she need do is touch them to activate them.

  She glanced at her own... the images of herself moving around in the box... she would watch that one... she was here today to watch two, in particular..: Micah's and her own. She decided to watch his, first.

  Turning, she touched her fingers, delicately, to the floating image of Micah moving about... the entire world flushed full with the scene of a cornfield... she was watching his rein, now, as if she were there, in that world...

  But she wasn't.

  She'd never be.

  Tabitha Reed was only true friend Micah had made...

  ... Beside Bridgette, of course. Sure, he knew a lot of the children... he knew almost all of them on first-name a basis. But Tabitha; she was a real friend... Tabitha, with her arm-pit-length light red hair and jade colored eyes... pale, but not too pale, peach skin... skinny but shorter then all the other girls... warring an orange, short sleeve, ankle-length  dress... she didn't ware jewelry because she was allergic.

  Before they had taken Valentine; all Tabitha wanted was to grow up and move away from this town... move to the city and become a secretary somewhere (no, she wasn't too ambitious). Her Mother had died of unknown causes, so she had lived alone with her Father... she was a smart girl, obsessively organized... not particularly good at anything... but not particularly bad, either... she disliked T.V so she was always reading... constantly reading classic books and classic poetry; she always had a lovely classic paper-back with her.

  That was his good friend Tabitha Reed... he watched her gingerly lift the large, sword-like knife... it was more then clear that she wasn't one to wield a weapon... she was too smart to believe that violence was ever good for anything... but she didn't have a choice.

  Micah hadn't forced her to kill her Father... Gideon had done it for her... so if she were to kill an outlander today; it would be her first kill.

  She gave him a look that almost said right out loud "I don't want to do this...". Micah ignored it.

  The outlanders were approaching... as was the evening... the sun setting off to the west cast dark, bloody gold all over everything... Tabitha's hair was lit up bright and burning... the outlanders were in the next town over... Tim, whom had been stationed in there, estimated that they would be in Valentine in, about, an hour... an hour and a half, hour and forty-five minutes, if they were lucky.

  "You can do it, Tabitha," Micah told her. "Fight for your home... our home. We'll win together or together we'll fall."

  Tabitha paused for a long moment. "... We won't fall." Micah could tell, by the way that she said that, she didn't believe it.

  He nodded.

  "Micah!" A voice called from behind them, urgency as clear as day from night in it. Both Tabitha and Micah turned to see whom the voice belonged to...

  Bridgette ran as fast as her feet would take her a crossed the grass. She called Micah's name. It had been her. Within moments, she was at his side.

  She panted for breath for a long moment, saying inbetween gasps: "Micah... I need... to talk... to you..."

  "About what, Bridgi?" Micah asked, softly, watching her with blatant curiosity.

  "I..." her deep green eyes trailed up on Tabitha. "I can't say... just... come with me... it will only take a minute..."

  Micah sighed and turned to Tabitha. "Please excuse us... if we are late, you and Gideon, prepare the children... aware Rachael, now, to round up all the younger children and keep them safe in town hall. Make sure she stays with them and does not try to fight. To protect them is her job."

  Tabitha nodded and ran off to do as she was told.

  Micah turned back to Bridgette. "What is it?"

  "Come," was all she said... grabbed his arm, and yanked him to run.

  Bridgette brought him back to the barn.

  Back to the barn where they had stayed when they first came to Valentine... before they had done away with all the adults and, even, before they had convinced a single child besides themselves of He Who Walks Behind the Rows' will.

  Bridgette yanked him relatively deep inside, then dropped his arm and allowed him to stop, and then continued several footsteps deeper before jerking around, facing him, and stopping.

  "What is this about?" Micah asked again... a little bit annoyed.

  "You should know," she spoke, softly, just above a whisper... a slight hint of anger in her voice.

  "Bridge-"

  "Don't... you Bridgette me." She interrupted. "... I know your secret."

  Micah's eyes darkened even more... until they were the blackest of blacks. "Explain yourself, Bridgette."

  "I know your secret," she repeated. "You can't hide it anymore... I know who you are and what you did to Micah!"

  Micah extended out his arms in a very "we're all friends here" gesture. "And why is that a bad thing, Bridgette?"

  Bridgette narrowed her eyes. "You know damn well... Father."

  He Who Walks Behind the Rows, through Micah, allowed Micah's arms to return to Micah's side... His, for now. "You're a smart girl, Bridgette."

  "Yeah," Bridgette said bitterly. "Why else would you have chosen me?"

  "I chose you... because you were not typical. You were, and still are, completely different... from anyone chosen before or after you... a girl, a Goth, a rebel... you weren't even completely brain washed on religion in your younger years. You were perfect...

  "You were perfect... except one thing... you loved that stupid whore more then you loved me... more then you loved yourself."

  "Shut up!" Bridgette shrieked. "Just shut up! Don't you ever say anything like that about Rebecca! You didn't even know her!"
  "She is the reason you died," He Who said through Micah's mouth. "Not me... you died for her."

  "So what if I did? You didn't do anything to stop it!"

  "You were right about that, too, Bridgette," He Who smiled with Micah's lips. "I didn't... I let both of you die... you deserved it... you both deserved it. You chose that slut over me! He ignored my word! You were both weak! Both mistakes... horrible mistakes."

  "Well it doesn't matter!" Bridgette declared. "You let him go, now..."

  "How about, no."

  "You let him go," Bridgette repeated, taking a small knife out from where she had hidden it in her sleeve. She didn't let He Who through Micah's eyes see it. "Or I'll force you to."

  With that, she flew at him... shoved him hard again the wall... pinned him there, and pressed the knife to his throat.

  He Who Walks Behind the Rows laughed. "What's that for, Bridgette?"

  "I've studied, Father!" Bridgette barked in his face, pressing the knife right up against the skin, holding He Who in Micah's body down against the wall. "How did you think I figured out about you possessing Micah? I watched his rein! I saw you take him... and I saw you leave him! I saw you leave him before he got pulled under the harvester!" Bridgette needed a gasp of breath before she could go on. "That is your weakness, isn't it? You can die in human form!"

  He Who Walks Behind the Rows scrawled. "You are smart... too smart... or not smart enough."

  Bridgette features twisted more as confusion added to her anger. "What? WHAT?"

  "So you kill me, big deal... you'd also kill your precious fuck buddy." He Who smiled, and almost laughed at the look that then spread on her face.

  To His surprise, she pressed the knife blade down hard. "So? Its better then being your little bitch... I'm sure he'd agree with me."

  Silence, between the two of them, for a long moment.

  "I'll kill him, if I have to, to stop you." Bridgette spoke... then silence, again, before she said: "We'd die anyway, with you... you'd just kill us again, I know that. This way, we'd bring you down with us."

  He Who's features twisted in the rage of God, he forced his arms out from under her with incredible strength, knocked her off of him, then grabbed her by the hair and swung her around... knocking her against the wall, he snatched the knife from her hand, and pressed it to the skin over her heart, still holding a hand full of her midnight blacken hair.

  "Maybe I'll just kill you," he breathed, in her face.

  Bridgette pawed at his wrist and tried to pull the knife away from her skin... she fought and fought and began in panic, desperate.

  He Who smiled as tears came to her eyes and she began to sob madly, pushing at Him... pushing at His arm... with no success what-so-ever.

  He could almost hear her begging no.

  Stupid girl, He thought... watching her squirm.

  "Micah," she whined. "Micah... I know you're in there, I know you can hear me... I know, sometimes, He's not completely in control... I knew it every time you kissed me... please, Micah! Please, help me!"

  He Who/Micah's face twisted... she saw the light black mix in with the blackest black in the eyes as Micah was fighting back. The pressure of the blade eased on her skin.

  Noo!, He Who Walks Behind the Rows thought, No! Micah! You are mine! You're MINE!

  Once the pressure had eased enough; Bridgette pressed her hands to His shoulders and pushed with all her might... He Who in Micah's body fell back, hitting the ground hard on His back and giving His head a good knock.

  Bridgette jumped on him, quickly, sat upon his stomach, and stole her knife back. She pressed it to His throat again.

  He Who recovered and looked up into the dead-set face and stone solid green eyes of a very pissed of Bridgette Fritzen. "Let... him... go."

  His facial features twisted in terrible rage and then in a mix of that same rage and ungodly (or, perhaps, godly) pain... He Who's voice began the horrible scream... a terrible, terrible scream... slowly, it began a mix... a mix of He Who's and Micah's voice(s)...

  Winds blew around the room, wiping Bridgette's hair wildly around her head. She just held on and kept the knife blade pressed to His neck. Slowly, the winds faded as the scream faded into just Micah's voice... Micah's scream... and then the screaming stopped, and the winds were just a gentle (but still wild) breeze.

  Micah's eyes – truly his this time – looked up at her... they were confused and scared, confused as Hell and scared as Hell... but there was a dim flicker of love in them when he saw Bridgette.

  Bridgette knew it was him... there was no doubt... she threw down the knife and rapped her arms around Micah's neck.

  "We're free," she whispered. "We're free! We're free, we're free, we're free!"

  Micah set one hand on her back... everything slowly coming back to him.

  We're free, her voice burned in his mind... repeating even more times, we're free! We're free now, Micah! We really are free!

  We're free?

  They were both startled when the ground began to rock... began to shake.

  "Oh no!" Bridgette moaned. She jumped to her feet and grabbed Micah's arm. "Get up... get up... get up!"

  Micah did, slowly, and she jerked him towards the door... running like crazy away from the barn. "Move! Move! Run! Quickly! Move, damn it!"

  She yanked him out the door of the barn, out side, the ground was not shaking... or, at least, not too much... she didn't stop there, though. She ran... ran as if the Devil himself were chasing her... through the corn field... she ran, pulling Micah to run with her, through the corn field... all the way through until they reached the road...

  Once on the road, she stopped... and jerked him and herself around to look back... the barn was visibly shaking... it shook and shook... as if an earthquake was taking place below it's foundation... it shook and shook; until it fell down.

  They stood together... and watched the building, the barn, fall... watched it crumbled to the ground until it was only a pile of painted wood and rusted nails and God only knows what else... then there was a great and terribly scream, the scream of He Who Walks Behind the Rows' rage at his forced departure... and then; everything was silent....everything was still.

  And they were free...

--- the end ---