Chapter 11- Heart and Soul

Mike could hear yelling. There was a lot of it. Vaguely he could hear his band mates, but mostly it was voices he was unfamiliar with. It sounded like a hospital. Everything was dark, which seemed to intensify the voices. The excitement, the fear, and the rush all vibrated through him. Suddenly, it all stopped.

"You're okay, Michael," Melissa said, smiling at him.

"W-what's going on?" Mike asked, taking a step back from her. "What did you do to me?"

"I'm trying to relieve the pain. Don't you want that?" She held out her hand to him. "Come with me, and I'll make sure you never hurt again." Mike didn't move. "Oh come on, Mike. You hear that?" Melissa pointed to the sky and the frantic voices returned. "That is the sound of fear, pain. Come with me and it will stop, I promise."

"Who are you?" Mike asked. "Really? Who are you? You're not Melissa, not the Melissa I knew."

"Of course I am, Mike," Melissa sang. "I am Melissa. Now come, we haven't got much time."

"Stop," A familiar voice yelled from behind. Mike turned to see the gypsy, clad in her hippie gear. She looked furious. "Get away from him," She said with a softer, but more intense tone.

"Oh come on," Melissa moaned. "Can't I just have one? This one is particularly cute."

"It's not his time," The gypsy stated.

"Blah, blah, blah," Melissa moaned. "You're no fun, you know that, sis?"

"Sis?" Mike asked.

"Later," The gypsy waved a hand at him, pushing his confusion aside.

"You're too late, you know that though, right?" Melissa laughed. "His memories are already being locked up as we speak. He's not going to have a clue as to what is going on once he wakes up."

"He needs to finish these trials. He needs to live," The gypsy warned.

"And he will," Melissa yelled, mocking the gypsy's tone. "You'll make sure of it."

"You do this every damn time," The gypsy continued. "Can't you just let it go? Let them go on?"

"It's my job to kill people, sweetheart. You know that. And you know how this ends, how the last trial ends."

The gypsy didn't reply, her anger set in stone. Mike moved closer to the gypsy. "W-what does she mean?" He was afraid to ask.

She was afraid to answer. "Oh come on, tell him," Melissa teased. "It's not like he will remember, anyways. You try so hard to keep them safe, so hard to keep them alive. Give him a little taste of what's to come."

With a heavy sigh, the gypsy finally said, "In the final trial, you must make a terrible decision. One between life and death. Only the right decision will bring you home. If you die in this trial you will never be able to return home."

"But in the next trial?" Mike asked, leaving the sentence for her to finish.

The gypsy refused to make eye contact.

"This hasn't been the first time you've seen me Michael Nesmith," Melissa deadpanned. "And it certainly won't be the last." With that, Melissa vanished into thin air.

"What's her deal?" Mike asked the gypsy.

Her anger now faded into regret, the gypsy said quietly. "I know you will make the right decision, Mike. In the next trial, I know you will. You're their leader. Whatever decision you make, the others will follow. Promise me you will make the right decision."

"I-I promise."

The gypsy gave him a sad smile. "I'll see you later then." She took her hand and pressed it against his chest. It was as if a bolt of electricity shot through his body, and with that he fell into the darkness again.

"Would you like to tell us what just happened?!" Davy exclaimed, he and the others standing close together.

"Melissa cleared away his pain, took all his memories and locked them up somewhere safe inside his head. Everything he knows will be relevant to Pleasant Valley, but nothing more," The gypsy sighed. "I swear, this was not supposed to happen. Melissa, she was never supposed to be here. This entire world is on repeat, she could not have been here."

"So you're saying she was someone else?" Micky asked cautiously.

"Someone like you?" Peter asked.

"Yes, er, maybe," The gypsy said, refusing to look away from Mike's inert form, concentrating on his condition. "It was terrifying. When I realized she was here, I came as fast as I could. He could have died. He almost died."

"How so?" Peter asked. "You said she locked up all his memories."

"And it nearly killed him. I think her goal was to kill him. Locking up the memories is just a part of the process. When people say that they see their lives flash before their eyes during a near death experience, that's their memories marching away to be locked up."

"Then how do we fix it? How do we fix him?" Davy asked.

"You complete the trial. He should, I hope, regain all his memories once the trial is complete and your guide comes to take you to the next trial."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Micky asked. "We've tried everything from mass chaos to ignoring literally everyone. What are we missing?"

The gypsy did not reply for a minute, but simply hovered her hand above Mike's heart, as if he would die if she dared remove it. Finally, she turned to the Monkees. "Your actions need to affect everyone in the neighborhood. Mrs. Gray, Mr. Duncan, The Squires, Mr. Green, everyone. And now Mike is mixed into that equation. To him, this will just be another Pleasant Valley Sunday. You will need to disrupt everyone's routine."

"Everyone's?" Peter asked.

"Don't let anyone slip back into the normal Sunday routine. If you do, you'll have to relive Sunday all over again."

"But what's Mike's then?"

The gypsy shrugged. "I haven't the faintest idea. Like I said, this wasn't supposed to happen."

"And what about Melissa?" Davy asked.

"I'll take care of her," The gypsy gave a heavy sigh. "Or I'll do my best, anyways." She took a step towards the bedroom door.

"Wait," Davy said to her. She turned, her golden eyes for the first time heavy with regret and fear. "Thank you."

She gave a small smile to the three Monkees. "He should wake up by tomorrow morning, so don't worry too much about him. Use this as an opportunity to prepare, plan. Do what you do best."

"And what do you think that is?" Micky asked.

"Cause chaos," The gypsy gave a bigger smile before turning on her heel and leaving. When the Monkees reached the bedroom door, she was gone without a trace.