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Hey there, fellow horror geeks and monsterphiles! Prometheus here (finally) with our next fight! Welcome back to FRIGHT FIGHT FRIDAY, the Killer Kid’s Bracket! Today’s fight will be GAGE (Pet Sematary) VS DAVID (Village of the Damned)! 

Let’s take a look at our fighters!


In Stephen King’s “Pet Sematary,” Gage is two years old when he is struck by a speeding oil tanker and killed. His father, stricken with grief, buries him in the local pet cemetery, rumored to “bring things back.” What could go wrong, right?

Well, Gage comes back all right. Only it’s not Gage at all. He’ s being used as a puppet by a Wendigo that haunts the pet cemetery. Gage kills his neighbor, Judd, then his mom. His dad is the one to put the toddler down in the end.

Gage, once possessed by the Wendigo, has unnatural strength and speed. He is a cold killer, no longer a cute, loving toddler. He has no healing abilities or powers beyond that and is still vulnerable to attack.


This creepy, pale-skinned little bastard made his debut on screen in 1960’s “Village of the Damned,” which was based off the 1957 novel by John Wyndham, “The Midwich Cuckoos.”

One day, all the residents of a small, quiet, British village fall unconscious. Two months later, all the women of childbearing age are pregnant. They give birth to these, pale-skinned, platinum hired children who all seem to age fast and exhibit no signs of human emotion. 

David is their “leader” and these kids have psychic abilities and cold hearts. They can move objects with their minds, influence and control your mind, communicate with each other telepathically, and are all highly intelligent. 


America, In the Small Town Next to Yours…

“Why?” her voice is broken and cracked. Her words wet with tears. “Why would you do this to our sweet, baby boy?”

“I did it for you!” he snarls. “I did it because I couldn’t bear to see you in that kind of pain. What father wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t what, Louis? Turn their son into a God damned monster?” She looks at her husband pleadingly. “Put an end to this, or I will.”

“I thought you would be happy to have our boy back, Rachel. I thought you would do anything for him, like me.”

“Not this. It isn’t natural. It isn’t right! You saw what he did to the cat, and then to Judd.” Tears begin to fall from her cheeks again, as she thinks about the poor old man. 

“We don’t know…”

“No,” she snapped. “You don’t know, but I do. I know my boy and Louis, this is NOT him.” She stands over their two-year-old son as he sleeps, a butcher knife in her hand. “You buried our boy in that damn pet cemetery, but what came out… What came out is not Gage, can't you see that?

“Rachel,” he walks toward her slowly. “You know I love you with all my heart, but I’m going to need you to put the knife down. You’re not thinking clearly.” He places his hand gently over hers, lowering the blade. “We both know you’re not going to kill our baby boy.”

Her look is sharp enough to cut through glass as her head turns to meet his gaze. “You’re right,” she replies as she relinquishes her grip, leaving the knife in his hand. “You are.” She turns and exits the room, leaving him standing there in the dark with his “son” asleep in front of him. The handle of the knife is warm in his hand, while the thought of what he must do sends a body numbing chill straight to his core. 

He lifts the blade and takes a deep breath. He knows what he needs to do but doubt clouds his mind, staying his hand. What if the boy can be saved? What if she’s wrong? These thoughts race through his mind as he loses what little nerve he’d managed to gather. Lightning flashes, the bang of thunder causes the boy to stir as Louis lowers the knife.


“Just a bit of thunder, my sweet boy.” He bends down, kissing the child’s cold forehead. A solitary tear falls from his left eye and slowly trickles down his cheek, as his wife quietly watches from the doorway. As the child’s head turns toward her, she backs away, terrified by the smile on his face.

Meanwhile, In a Small Village in the U.K….

“The blast killed every one of them?” His shiny black, steel toe boots step down on the debris of the explosion, causing an audible crunch underneath them. 

“All of them, except one. We think he was their leader. His name’s David.” 

“And where is, ‘David’ now?” He removes his black sunglasses and places them in the front pocket of his all black suit as he looks at the local policeman.  

“Over at the hospital, sedated. We’ll call in child services tomorrow.” 

“No need. He’ll be leaving the hospital and heading to the states at zero hours. Got a lovely family waiting for him. Brief your men.” The mysterious man in black’s tone is stern and final, but somehow, not rude. 

“I haven’t been told of any plans to…”

“Officer,” he looks down at the man’s badge, “Pillsbury, is it?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

He looks the policeman in the eyes, no telltale signs of emotion are present as he speaks. “You’re being told now.” Again, his tone is more matter of fact than it is rude and Officer Pillsbury is unsure how to respond as the man turns and heads back toward the black helicopter that he arrived in only minutes ago.

“Who are you?” officer Pillsbury calls out after him. 

The man stops his calculated stride momentarily and looks back over his shoulder. “Randall Flagg, C.I.A.” He places his sunglasses back on his face casually as he turns around and enters the helicopter. The policeman watches as the chopper flies away, steadily getting smaller and smaller against the backdrop of the darkening sky. As it slowly fades from sight, he can’t help but wonder where he’s heard that name before. “Randall Flagg,” he says out loud. 

“Who was that?” asks a voice from behind him. 

“Randall Flagg, some CIA spook. Says they’re taking the kid to the States at midnight. Has some family waiting for the kid.”

“Is that a good idea partner?”

“Damned if I know. Not our problem now. It’s his.”

“Randall Flagg, huh? Sounds familiar...”

The Next Day, Back in the States…

“Thank you, again, for everything. Really.” Tears of joy well in her eyes as she shakes the man’s hand. Her husband stands next to her. 

“It’s been my pleasure. I’m glad everything worked out. It’s always a good day when you can deliver a needful child into the arms of a loving family.” The man gathers the paperwork off the kitchen table. “David is a…” he looks back at the pale-skinned child, “special boy. If there is anything you need, please feel free to reach out.” The man hands her a business card. It’s shiny and black. Written in bold crimson letters are the words:

                WALTER O’DIM

               CHILD SERVICES


The man stands up, putting on his long black pea coat and black leather gloves. 

“Thank you. You’ve made my wife and I both incredibly happy.” He places his arm around his wife.

“Glad to help. Some might even say that it’s my job. You folks have a lovely day.”

The next day, David is outside in the yard when an ambulance comes flying up the street and stops at the house next door. The EMT’s bring a woman out on a stretcher. A man follows behind, his eyes are swollen and red from crying. His voice is hoarse. He falls to his knees as they load the woman’s lifeless body into the ambulance and drive away. David walks over to the man and stops a few feet from him, watching. 

“Run on home, kid. This no place for you to be right now.”

“Is it because she’s dead?” David looks Louis in the eyes. 

“You should go be with your parents.”

“What happened?” The boy’s question is emotionless, his tone as flat as week-old soda. “To her, I mean?” The well dressed, platinum-haired child stares at Louis, awaiting an answer. 

“Go home, kid. Go be with your parents.”

“They’re not my parents.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way. Still…”

“They’re also dead. Like her.”

Gage watches his father talk to David from back in the doorway. A sly smile rests on his small face as a look of shock comes over his father’s. 

Thinking he must have heard the boy wrong, Louis asks, “I’m sorry, did you say that your parents are…?”

“As dead as your wife, that’s right. Go have a look for yourself.” He nods his head back towards his house. 

Something about the child feels off. His monotone way of speaking, his lack of emotion. Louis decides to take him up on his offer. He walks past David and opens the front door. It’s quiet inside. No television, no music, or voices. Just silence. He looks back over his shoulder nervously. Something about that kid sure as shit creeps him out. Like it wasn’t bad enough that his wife was dead, probably at the hands of his own two-year-old son, now he has to deal with this kid’s shit? As he was thinking to himself that the poor kid probably just needs some attention, he opens the bedroom door. 

The smell is immediate. It’s like being slapped in the face with a copper glove. The sharp, metallic, tinge of blood in the air is unmistakable. He gags and places his face deep into the fold of his left arm. Two bodies lay on the floor. A gun in the man’s hand. A bullet wound in each of their heads. The kid was telling the truth. Murder-suicide. A lovely thing for a child to walk in on. No wonder the poor thing’s all fucked up. He reaches in his pocket, taking out his phone. 

“Told ya’.”

The voice startles Louis and he drops the glass smartphone to the floor, shattering the screen. 

“Did I scare you?”

“No, I just…” He looks at the child, who couldn’t be older than 10. “How long have they…?”

“Been dead?” David smiles. “Since I killed them, last night.”

Louis’ heart sinks to his feet. Whatever voice he had, completely disappears and he’s left standing there, looking at the boy, with his mouth open. His face twisted into a look of painful curiosity. 

“You want to pick up the gun,” says David calmly. “You need to pick up the gun.”

Without hesitation, Louis bends down and removes the cold, metal firearm from the man’s even colder dead hand. A feeling of helplessness comes over him as he realizes what’s happening. He looks at David pleadingly, panic and confusion fill his eyes.

“You want to put the gun to your head. You need to put the gun to your head.”

As his arm bends against his will and the frigid barrel presses into his temple the panicked look of confusion and terror turns to a soft and serene acceptance. Louis smiles, just slightly as David speaks his next words.

“Pull the trigger.” 

The blast lights up the room. Louis’ body falls to the floor with an extra helping of gravity, revealing Gage standing behind him holding a butcher knife. A low, almost inaudible growl seeps from between his blue, tightly pressed lips. 

David looks at the toddler, examining him. “Stick the knife into your belly, slowly.”

Gage takes a few steps forward.

“You want to stick the knife into your belly. Do it slowly.”

A crooked smile forms on the edge of Gage’s mouth. He charges at David with the blade in the air. His growl is now very audible. David moves to the left, but the knife comes down fast and grazes his shoulder, slicing it open. David pushes the kid back, but the Wendigo gives Gage abnormal strength and he attacks again swiftly, this time slicing David across the gut and spilling blood to the floor. 

Surprised by the toddler’s strength, David takes a step back to assess the situation. Gage runs at him again, like a ravenous animal on the verge of a kill. His speed is unnatural and once again the blade cuts into David’s flesh, this time by the right side of his rib cage. 

Gage comes again, full force into David knocking hi to the ground. Instantly he is on top of him, the sharp edge of the knife glistens as it catches the light. It comes down fast toward David’s skull, stopping less than an inch above it. The knife shakes and wiggles in Gage’s hand, softly at first until it becomes uncontrollable. The handle wriggles from the toddler’s grip and the knife rises into the air, the tip turning and pointing straight at Gage. 

David focuses his energy and the blade propels forward with the force of a bullet, lodging deep into Gage’s face with a wet, sloshing sound as it pushes through the soft meat of the eye socket. He falls forward into a pool of blood, his body twitching. 

The sound of applause causes David to spin around. A black silhouette stands in the doorway, more of a shadow than a man. “I knew you were special David, and I have such things to show you.”


OK, so Gage is a creepy little dude and I love Pet Sematary but for him to beat David? I don’t see it. David is more powerful. Sure, Gage is possessed by a Wendigo, but that doesn’t give him any immunity to harm. His dad ends up killing him with a needle of morphine. 

The Wendigo did come in handy, making it so David couldn’t control Gage’s mind. Being an occupied space and all. In the end, though, David is able to overpower our rabid little tyke and take the win in brutal fashion. How many Stephen King fans caught the Randall Flagg/Walter O’dim reference? For anyone unfamiliar, they are both names of Stephen King’s main antagonist, The Man in Black. 

What do you think out there? Am I way off? Yell at me in the comments and make sure to check back this weekend for our next fight, ESTHER (Orphan) VS LILLITH (Case 39)! 

Until next time, keep on geekin’ on my friends!  

Joshua “Prometheus” Scafidi

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