I'm sorry that this has taken so long, but please enjoy!

Burnin for You

Blue Oyster Cult

Home in the valley

Home in the city

Home isn't pretty

Aint no home for me

Home in the darkness

Home on the highway

Home isn't my way

Home I'll never be

Burn out the day

Burn out the night

I can't see no reason to put up a fight

I'm livin' for givin' the devil his due

And I'm burnin', I'm burnin' for you

I'm burnin', I'm burnin', I'm burnin' for you

Time is the essence

Time is the season

Time ain't no reason

Time I'll never know

Christine let the stranger lead her, although her stomach again gave the sensation to run. It suddenly occurred to her that the man had never told her his name. She blinked against the sun and looked at him apprehensively. He didnt look back at her as they stepped in and out between the weed clogged tracks. "Uhm...you never did tell me your name..." she said weakly. Malachai didn't react immediately. They were reaching town when he gently pulled her to the left, away from town, and into a nearby cornfield. Christine's intuition kicked in and she pulled away from him so fast, he didn't have a chance to catch her arm. Her frightened eyes observed him. "Where are you taking me?" she whispered. Christine reflected on this for a split moment; how he could make her feel so inferior that she barely raised her voice to him. Malachai turned around slowly and looked at her. Christine felt herself involuntarily shiver. "My name is not important right now. But I have a question for you..." Malachai's voice drifted to her on the breeze. In the cornfield, it was much darker...the corn towered at least two feet over her head, blocking out most of the light and it gave the man's face a shadowed menacing look. And in these cornfields, just like in the movies, no one would hear her scream. Christine swallowed hard. She tried to tell herself that she would not allow fear to creep into her voice. "What?", she asked almost normally. The man's face smirked slightly. It was only somewhat visible, but she had caught it before it had faded. He stepped closer to her. She didn't move. She didn't dare. 'That's good', Malachai thought to himself. It seemed impossible, but as he came closer, his eyes seemed to glow. Christine gasped, expecting him to grab her, but couldn't tear her eyes from his. He reached up and seized her chin. "Do you trust me? Tell me now...or I tell you no more..." he hissed. She felt tears sting her eyes and threaten to spill over in a river of fear, hate, and confusion. Her body threatened to give out beneath her and alleve her of any control over the situation. Christine pushed the tears back and stared blankly back at him, wondering what to do. He was staring at her, waiting impatiently for an answer. She wished she had never come to this god-forsaken town. But she nodded. He smiled sweetly. "That's good. We have an understanding." Malachai whispered menacingly. Malachai moved his face closer to hers and she thought she would faint. He slowly brushed his lips against hers. His breathing caused her lips to tremble. Malachai pulled away quickly as if he had been burnt, then licked his lips. His eyes left hers for a moment to look at her lips and then back up to her. "Not yet...", his voice was loud in the silence around them, "It isn't time..." He pulled her along more roughly and more deeply into the cornfield.

They entered a clearing where there was a huge bonfire. There were about 12 children ranging in ages from a year and a half to... 'the age of favor' something whispered in her mind.

Where had that thought come from? The fact that it hadn't even been her own voice brought her no closer to finding it's origin. The sight of seeing all of the children made her vision blur with something rivaling rememberence as the two scenes became transparent of each other. As her eyes focused once more, Christine honed in on something so unsuspectfully frightening that her throat felt as if it might choke her of its own volition. Other than she and the man at her side, there was no other adult in sight. Deja Vu threatened faintingly. 'Age of Favor?', she was somewhat relieved to hear her own mind wondering. It seemed familiar to her; and obviously it meant the oldest among the group before her. 'But what the hell is it supposed to mean?', her mind whispered helpless and impatient. Christine pushed the thought away and noticed the others watching her intently. The man was also looking at her almost amusedly as she took all of this in. She had a feeling he either knew all that she had just thought or he was causing it. That just wasn't possible...was it?

It has been said that when the mind is under much duress, deliriousness and hysterics try to take control of the conscious level in the mind. Dependent on willpower, subtle hints can still be exposed. Such things were about to happen. A dawning came over Christine's thoughts..or maybe it was better called a darkening. 'Oh my God...its a new group of Charles Manson and his followers gone hillbilly.' she thought amusedly and insane laughter surfaced to her lips, but she managed to keep it back. The man led her closer to the group. The children eyed her suspiciously and seemed timid in the presence of the man. "This is Christine," he spoke authoritively, "She was once one of us..and has returned." Malachai touched her shoulder. His words were enough to make her stand up straight immediately. Although she was close to almost losing it a moment ago, she knew she hadn't imagined him addressing the children with her name. She licked her suddenly too dry lips and stole a glance in the man's direction. He was still looking at the children, maybe waiting for a response but there was none. 'There's nothing to be afraid of...you've come home...', the other voice whispered in her mind. It made her shiver and shake her head slightly. It seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. It was a deep, rough...gravely voice with a sickeningly sweet undertone that seemed to be a relentless combination of an encyclopedia and self-help book in one. Before another destructive thought could cross her mind, Malachai had taken her hand. The children's faces had relaxed a little.

Malachai raised his other hand and motioned with two fingers for no one in particular to come forward, but two older teenage boys emerged from the group. Both of them appeared to be about 17 years of age, quite muscular, tall, and dressed in hand-me-down clothes simular in fashion to that the man was wearing, only that was where the simularities ended. One of them had long dark hair and piercing blue eyes that she wouldnt meet again once she saw them. The other had shaggy blond hair, green eyes, and he was looking at her as if he were just waiting for the man to issue an order to seize her just so he could touch her. 'Adam and Luke look to be pretty good soldiers, don'tcha think?', the sinister voice whispered. 'Shut up and leave me alone.', Christine hissed to the companion who now shared her brain. She looked up and met the eyes of Adam. How had she known which was which? 'Take a guess.', she told herself. It didn't take long to look away from that blue gaze that might consume her. "These two are my oldest and most trusted friends. Never cross them. Or me.", Malachai said to her and reached out and joined her hand with Adam's. His hand was cold and strong. She would have jerked it away, but thought better of it. "Adam, this is Christine. You will protect her with your life." Malachai said solemnly. He still would not look at her. Instead of shaking her hand, like she had somehow expected, he raised her hand to his lips. She couldn't help but let him, spellbound. There was no other explanation for it, she told herself later. She also couldn't help looking into his eyes. It was like she might drowned in them...and if she let herself do that, what would happen to her? At any rate, reality was not an option right now, so she found herself not wanting to know as a result and tore her eyes away. Adam let her hand drop and nodded to Malachai and then winked to her. Her bones instantaneously became glistened with ice until he turned to leave.

Luke came forward next. That crazed look had not left his face. Malachai cleared his throat and got his attention. Malachai reached out and took Luke's hand, joining it with Christine's. His grasp was sweaty and hot. It reminded her of checking her oil too soon after driving her car and a splash of oil dripping onto her hand. Just as warm, just as greasy. Finally, a sane thought. Reality hit home fast...too fast. This time she did jerk her hand away before the man even had the chance to introduce them formally. Luke looked at her stunned, but Malachai hadn't even flinched, as if he had been expecting it sooner. The man looked down at her reassuringly now. "It's not wrong to feel fear...fear is one of our most primal emotions...though you need not fear them unnessasarily...they are a part of you...just as you are a part of us." the man told her soothingly. It was too late. Christine had already heard enough to make her go back to seeing a psychiatrist like she had had to after she had moved out on her own. She started to back away from them slowly, unknowingly shaking her head again. Adam and Luke started towards her, but Malachai motioned them away. He moved towards her and took her hand again, stopping her. He was looking at her coldly. "Don't think of leaving; they will find you.", Malachai motioned over his shoulder with his head to Adam and Luke, "You are overwhelmed...tired...the sun is setting...you must rest...there are things I must discuss with the others...go back to the house...in the morning, you will understand things better." With that, he released her. Christine stood for a moment, in confusion...and utter panic. She knew better than to run. That would only provoke them. Malachai turned away from her and was talking quietly with Adam and Luke. The other children were leaving at the opposite end of the clearing. Christine walked slowly back into the corn...but not before she heard two other names mentioned from the man's voice. Sarah and Job.

The light was leaving the sky quickly now. Only the purple and red streaks were left to caress the horizon. Christine found her way back to the railroad tracks and followed them towards town. She didn't care what threats the man had laid upon her, she wasn't going to stay here for another minute. If she left in a different direction of town, it might be possible that she could escape. She descended upon downtown again and the sight of her car made her stomach turn. She was going to have to walk it. A soft reddish glow coated everything, but it was enough to twinkle off of a slumbering piece of metal. About half a block away, there was the front end of a car's headlights poking discreetly out of an open decaying building that looked like it might have once been a car service station. Christine's heart lept with exhausted emotional relief and she started to run towards it. Even if there weren't keys, she could try to hotwire it and get the hell out of dodge. She stopped short at the entrance and let out a gasp that was more like an exasperated, tearful groan. This car, too, had been sabotaged just as her's had.

The light deserted her and left the lonely, isolated town of Gatlin in darkness. The wind has died down considerably since her entrance into town, but the breeze caused the rustling of the corn to whisper to her. She couldn't understand what it was saying, but it had the same mocking, gravely voice as the one that plagued her earlier. Christine let herself fall to her knees and bow her head. Why had she come here? Couldn't she have trusted her mother when she had, more or less, told her to leave well enough alone? Silent tears coursed down her face as the thoughts punished her more and more. And when the self-beating was done, came the questions. How had he known her name? Who was whispering things to her?And what the hell had he meant by 'It wasn't time yet?' Slowly, she got to her feet again. She looked over in the direction of the house and wondered if she would be better off with a good night's sleep. She probably wouldn't make it very far if she didn't and they would find her as the man had said. She would leave early in the morning even before they awoke. Christine walked towards the house again, but this time she felt as if she were being watched by eyes unseen...

Hope you all enjoyed and thanks to everyone for being so patient! I also want to take the opportunity to thank everyone who has read and reviewed this story. You are the reason the story is still going!