"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.
