Title: Hell on Earth
Author: Meagan-bird
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU (alternate universe). Say that Frank Redbear died before he could push the Harvester forward. Well, what then? Press on, children, press on! I need lots of reviews to make sure I'm doing this right.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the fic you see before you and the citizens of St. Cecilia. Can't sue me, I'm makin' no money! HAH! COTC and whatnot belong to Stephen King and all those people.
The pain was unbearable.
Redbear had felt the arrow pierce his side and was still in disbelief. He had survived all these years in the valleys of tainted corn -- not to mention those years at college -- and now he was going to die at the hands of some crazy orphaned children.
Life sure was funny.
His vision was blurring, his head spinning, and he knew he had to do something fast. Biting back the pain that was slowly taking over, Redbear reached shakily for the lever. It had taken a while to understand the configuration of the Harvester; he was pretty sure he could put that knowledge to good use in his final moments. His bleary eyes looked to the front of the tractor. The black-haired kid, there he was... the one that had threatened them with that deep voice. The black-haired kid was... glowing? Was that real, or just another fun visual illusion the internal bleeding was putting on for him? At any rate, the kid was screaming, holding his knife in the air and screaming. Now was as good a time as any. Redbear swallowed, noticing how dry his throat was becoming, and looked away from the black-haired glowing kid as his vision grew dark. If there was any hope of saving Garrett and the others, he had to do it now. The silver-haired Indian sucked in his breath, began to put the Harvester in gear ...
... and died.
Garrett watched the vision with a kind of horrified wonder; the lightning and terrible screaming finally stopped as Micah slowly lowered his machete. His skin was still unnaturally pale, but the sallow sour milk quality had retreated a little. The shadows in the hollows of his face weren't so drastic anymore, and he'd stopped sweating. There was a very long silence broken only by the crackling of burning husks before Micah opened his eyes and shocked them all; the pupils were obsidian black, swollen to hide most of the whites. Pure darkness. He swept the intensity of black fire over each of them in turn: first Garrett, then Lacey, then Angela, and finally Danny. When he spoke, his voice was a thousand voices in one, rage and hatred and power. Unspeakable power.
"You have defiled my fields," Micah growled slowly, careful with each word. "Your sins and corruption must not reach my children." With a delicate wave of one pale hand, he motioned towards the fire that was eating tortuously at the stalks of corn behind the Harvester. Before they could reach the metal and gas, the flames had suddenly changed direction and set their course towards Garrett and the others. It took them a minute, but they began to scramble for escape -- too late. The fire formed a circle around them, trapping them behind the scorching wall of flames.
"Micah, don't do this!" Danny screamed. Lacey and Angela were clinging to each other for some kind of support while Garrett shielded his face against the blaring heat. The pale boy in a yellow robe tilted his head slightly, apparently amused.
"Have you ever taken the time to read the Bible, Danny?" he asked, a tone of dark sarcasm in his voice. "Revelations, 16:17. 'The seventh angel poured out his bowl into the air. A loud voice came out of the temple from the throne, saying, 'It is done.' ' "
"STOP IT!" Garrett bellowed, but the panicked note couldn't be masked from his words. Micah went on.
" 'Then there were lightning flashes, rumblings, and peals of thunder, and a great earthquake. It was such a violent earthquake that there never has been one like it since the human race began on earth.' " His children had gathered behind him on the scorched rubble of dirt and burnt stalks; they were wide-eyed and silent, having never seen such a thing before. Their leader had shown anger before, yes, anger and power, but neither so intense as this. Micah's pale lips formed a very slow smirk as he lifted a palm towards Garrett, Danny, and the screaming women. "It is done," he whispered, and the earth swallowed them whole.
Author: Meagan-bird
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU (alternate universe). Say that Frank Redbear died before he could push the Harvester forward. Well, what then? Press on, children, press on! I need lots of reviews to make sure I'm doing this right.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the fic you see before you and the citizens of St. Cecilia. Can't sue me, I'm makin' no money! HAH! COTC and whatnot belong to Stephen King and all those people.
The pain was unbearable.
Redbear had felt the arrow pierce his side and was still in disbelief. He had survived all these years in the valleys of tainted corn -- not to mention those years at college -- and now he was going to die at the hands of some crazy orphaned children.
Life sure was funny.
His vision was blurring, his head spinning, and he knew he had to do something fast. Biting back the pain that was slowly taking over, Redbear reached shakily for the lever. It had taken a while to understand the configuration of the Harvester; he was pretty sure he could put that knowledge to good use in his final moments. His bleary eyes looked to the front of the tractor. The black-haired kid, there he was... the one that had threatened them with that deep voice. The black-haired kid was... glowing? Was that real, or just another fun visual illusion the internal bleeding was putting on for him? At any rate, the kid was screaming, holding his knife in the air and screaming. Now was as good a time as any. Redbear swallowed, noticing how dry his throat was becoming, and looked away from the black-haired glowing kid as his vision grew dark. If there was any hope of saving Garrett and the others, he had to do it now. The silver-haired Indian sucked in his breath, began to put the Harvester in gear ...
... and died.
Garrett watched the vision with a kind of horrified wonder; the lightning and terrible screaming finally stopped as Micah slowly lowered his machete. His skin was still unnaturally pale, but the sallow sour milk quality had retreated a little. The shadows in the hollows of his face weren't so drastic anymore, and he'd stopped sweating. There was a very long silence broken only by the crackling of burning husks before Micah opened his eyes and shocked them all; the pupils were obsidian black, swollen to hide most of the whites. Pure darkness. He swept the intensity of black fire over each of them in turn: first Garrett, then Lacey, then Angela, and finally Danny. When he spoke, his voice was a thousand voices in one, rage and hatred and power. Unspeakable power.
"You have defiled my fields," Micah growled slowly, careful with each word. "Your sins and corruption must not reach my children." With a delicate wave of one pale hand, he motioned towards the fire that was eating tortuously at the stalks of corn behind the Harvester. Before they could reach the metal and gas, the flames had suddenly changed direction and set their course towards Garrett and the others. It took them a minute, but they began to scramble for escape -- too late. The fire formed a circle around them, trapping them behind the scorching wall of flames.
"Micah, don't do this!" Danny screamed. Lacey and Angela were clinging to each other for some kind of support while Garrett shielded his face against the blaring heat. The pale boy in a yellow robe tilted his head slightly, apparently amused.
"Have you ever taken the time to read the Bible, Danny?" he asked, a tone of dark sarcasm in his voice. "Revelations, 16:17. 'The seventh angel poured out his bowl into the air. A loud voice came out of the temple from the throne, saying, 'It is done.' ' "
"STOP IT!" Garrett bellowed, but the panicked note couldn't be masked from his words. Micah went on.
" 'Then there were lightning flashes, rumblings, and peals of thunder, and a great earthquake. It was such a violent earthquake that there never has been one like it since the human race began on earth.' " His children had gathered behind him on the scorched rubble of dirt and burnt stalks; they were wide-eyed and silent, having never seen such a thing before. Their leader had shown anger before, yes, anger and power, but neither so intense as this. Micah's pale lips formed a very slow smirk as he lifted a palm towards Garrett, Danny, and the screaming women. "It is done," he whispered, and the earth swallowed them whole.