Title: Townsend Author: Cancergirl Rating: R Classification: TA-Adventure/Angst Spoilers: Fourth Season Summary: Mulder and Scully stumble upon a town under the control of a charismatic vampire. An X-Files/comic book crossover. Disclaimer: The X-Files and its characters are creations of Chris Carter. But Townsend and its characters are a creation of Cancergirl. Too bad for you, Chris. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a run-of-the-mill Tuesday in the basement office of Special Agent Fox Mulder. Having recently taken a three-day break in which he did absolutely nothing but play basketball and stare at the TV, he now bounced a basketball on the floor, alternating hands as he stared off into space. Bored of that, he sharpened pencils. He then crumpled up old interoffice memos and shot them at the trashcan. He was getting good at that. Agent Scully breezed in at 9:30 am and took a seat opposite Mulder. Hanging up her coat, she apologized for being late. "I had a dentist's appointment at 8:30." She paused, pursing her lips in a subtle gesture of disgust. It was very Scully, and Mulde r was sure not many people caught it when she did things like that. "I really hate those things. Especially the, the- uh..." "Weird grinding tool with the gritty mint toothpaste?" he offered. "Yeah! Yeah! And I just switched dentists. The last guy said he didn't give fluoride treatments after the age of fifteen, but this new guy gave me one anyway." She licked her teeth. "I think I'll go back to my old dentist." "Did you pick bubble gum or grape-flavored fluoride?" "I didn't have a choice. It was bubble gum or nothing." "Sick." Mulder grimaced in genuine rapport. "You know, I've had a dentist complex ever since an assistant left me alone for thirty-five minutes in a chair, staring into a blinding light, with fluoride plates and that spit-sucking tube hanging out of my mouth." "How terrible!" Scully's sympathetic voice almost made Mulder take himself seriously. But he was, after all, Mulder. "You must have been so scared. How old were you?" "Mid-thirties. This was a couple of weeks ago." He flashed his boyish smile. "You know, fluoride figures quite interestingly in conspiracy literature." Scully returned this with a "NO" look. "On an unrelated note," he continued, "it looks like we've got ourselves a case to investigate out in Wisconsin." He removed several layers of interoffice memos that were about to meet their timely demise via his three-point trashcan shots to reveal a fi le folder, which he duly handed to her. Scully opened it and read the first couple of pages. Mulder shot more baskets. Scully raised her eyebrows. "What am I looking at?" "These are all photographs from the Moon Hollow County Department of Animal Control. Three dogs, apparently exsanguinated and mutilated so as to maximize blood loss, disappeared from farms in the area. A fourth was discovered this morning. Each was sub sequently unearthed from its undisclosed county burial site. The reports indicate that the graves could not have been opened from the outside. It's almost as though the animals dug themselves out." Scully studied the photoes, subconsciously replacing her pity for these poor beasts to be able to reason scientifically as to what could have happened to them, and why. "You're saying they weren't dead?" Mulder shrugged. "They were definitely dead when they arrived at Animal Control. Yet, that's not all. Their owners have come forward claiming to have been visited by their deceased pets. One woman reported that her dead springer spaniel was accompanie d by a young girl who asked to come inside. "I think what we're looking at here is..." "Somebody who's seen 'Pet Sematary' too many times?" The grin again. "Werewolfism, actually." Scully sighed. "Just let me run home and grab my silver bullets." MADISON, WISCONSIN 3:00 PM CDT "Shall I drive?" Mulder asked ceremoniously. Scully let him. She didn't like driving that much, and as long as he wanted to, she let Mulder do her the favor. They put their suitcases in the trunk of the Chrysler 300M. "Nice," said Mulder, admiring the leather interior and fully accessorized console. Scully dozed off as Mulder amused himself with the manual-automatic transmission options. When she snapped awake, a green sign flashed by declaring that the Central City junction was six miles ahead. "You must have been tired," Mulder said. "You slept through the entire Packers game." Scully grunted. Mulder continued talking. "We're supposed to stay in Central City for the night because apparently there are no other hotels in Moon Hollow County." He let her take in the desolate farm landscape. "It's pretty depressing." "Think about growing up here." Scully tried to put her mind off it, but she realized that all the moving around she had done as a child was probably not as bad as having to stay in one place where there was nothing to do, no hope for the future, no way o ut. Involuntarily, she shuddered. "Yeah. It must have sucked." Mulder popped a tape in. Scully heard Mick Jagger confessing that he saw a red door and wanted it painted black. Sometimes, she had to say the same. MOON HOLLOW COUNTY SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT CENTRAL CITY, WISCONSIN 4:01 PM "Sheriff Lubbell, I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder and this is Special Agent Dana Scully. We've come to assist you in this investigation." Mulder experienced a hearty, damp handshake and watched Scully accept one as well. The two agents and the tall, sturd ily-built sheriff faced off in mutual respect. The ex-quarterback took in the two agents. His glinty blue eyes reflected a certain sorrowful wisdom Mulder had only previously seen in inner-city cops. He suspected this man's personal life had something to do with it. "I realize you two have traveled quite a bit today, so we'll try to keep this short and sweet." A glance at Scully. He led them along a short hallway to his back office. "I'm sure you've been briefed back in Washington. That was what we had as of this morning. We've gone into furth er detail with the sightings of the animals to try to get a description of the people seen accompanying them." He slid a folder across the table to the agents. Lubbell hemmed and hawed a little, and then came through with "Agent Mulder, I'm... aware... of your background in cases of this nature. I just wanted you to know that I'm open to suggestion here. I'm a religious man, but I believe that makes me more gu llible. Nothing like this has ever happened here before. Central City may be the largest for a hundred miles around, but there's still a small-town mentality here. Everyone knows each other, like that. If someone had seen, heard something... we would know about it. But everyone is completely confused." Mulder nodded. "Thank you, sir. I'll keep that in mind." "Two sightings of the people accompanied by these dogs, and only one full description? What happened in the other case?" Scully asked bluntly. Lubbell sighed. "Shirley McLannon is an old widow. She's lost most of her sight and hearing. By all rights she should be taken care of in a proper home. But she won't have it." He looked down at the meager sheets of paper in front of him. "She did s ay that the girl at her door claimed she had found her dog at the side of the road and asked for a glass of water, that she was thirsty. Mrs. McLannon loved her spaniel, Melvin, but she said that the girl's eyes were empty and white... she was too scared to let her in. Other than that, she couldn't give us an age, race, height, hair color, anything." Scully showed Mulder the sketch of the boy that the other dog owner had reported. The report said that Chewy, a dead golden retriever, had showed up barking at his owner's door last night alongside a teenage boy. Again, the boy said he had found the dog roaming around and wanted to know if anyone was home. The man who owned Chewy recognized the boy as a frequent visitor of the record store where he worked. He said he opened the door and the boy tried to step inside. Chewy's owner sensed something was wrong and shut him out. "It says here that this boy's name is unknown but he's not from Central City," Mulder said, grasping for clues. "Where could he be from, and what was he doing walking the outskirts of town at midnight?" "Well, that's not too difficult. He's either from Townsend or Slate Rock. They're the only towns with any sort of teenage population near here. Probably Townsend, though." Lubbell paused, considering. "I've got a son about that age. Slate Rock kids tend to stick to their own. They've got concerts up there, a mall. Slate Rock's more or less self-sufficient. It's also a pain in the ass to get down from there, too. The road's pretty winding. It's the foothills of the ski mountains out in Lacrosse. "Townsend, on the other hand, is kind of a dump. No new building's gone up there since the 1970's, and there's not a whole lot to do. We've got Townsend kids coming down here and making trouble every weekend. Fistfights, shoplifters. Nothing as strang e as this, though." Lubbell took a breath. He seemed to be wondering if he had revealed too much about his own jurisdiction. As if to compensate, he wrote something down on a sheet of paper. "The Townsend chief of police is a fellow by the name of Luc ius Finn. I don't know him personally, but I think you might benefit by showing this sketch to him." "Well, if this boy is from Townsend, we can be pretty sure the girl is too." Mulder stood up, sensing the briefing was over. "Thank you, Sheriff. My partner and I will see what we can find up there this evening and report to you if we find anything." ALLEY CATS EATERY CENTRAL CITY, WISCONSIN 7:13 PM Having checked into their hotel, Mulder and Scully found a retro-style diner around the corner where they could grab some dinner. From the distinctly greasy laminated menus, Scully chose a chicken caesar salad while Mulder went for the double cheeseburge r platter. After the waitress took their order, Mulder watched Scully gaze, detached, out the diner's window at the fading light and the cars racing by. He had the impression that this place disturbed her, a small town with big city problems, yet she wi shed she would have had any place, even here, to settle in. Instead, her father had been repeatedly transferred. Trying to bring his attention back to the case at hand, he noticed out of the corner of his eye someone staring at him from across the restaurant. There, over in the smoking section. A lone girl of about fifteen or sixteen, wearing heavy black eye makeu p and a short-sleeved magenta-colored velvet dress, trained her light brown eyes on his. Her hair was dark, dark brown, about shoulder length. Despite his discomfort, he seemed to be locked into the glare. It only ended when two other teenagers passed between them. They sat down across from and lit cigarettes, and his view was obscured by their heads. Their food arrived, and Scully dug into her salad without a word. Mulder wondered how long he'd been involved in that little staring contest. Afterward, he and Scully walked back to the hotel and took the 300M out to the Interstate. A sign for I-74 east read "Green Bay/Townsend". Mulder fiddled with the radio, trying to break Scully's mysterious silence. Some station was playing Pet Shop Boy s. "Leave it here," Scully said. They sat wordless for a few more moments. 'In a western town, a dead-end world The east end boys and west end girls...' "Penny for your thoughts, Scully." At first he didn't think she was going to answer. She sat there, taking in the scenery. And then she said, "I've just been thinking about why this whole case scares me. I've certainly seen worse. But I think it has something to do with a mentality tha t I've never experienced. I can't comprehend the kind of desperation that's at the heart of these killings." Mulder almost reached over and patted her on the shoulder, but he caught himself. "Scully, I--" "And it's not like these are human beings. They're animals. But somehow, I... I care more. I wonder if I'm hurting myself, becoming so goddamn professionally detached from human death. But the idea of someone harming a dog..." Mulder looked over. "I know what you mean. You--" He was interrupted by a loud bang and the car screeched to a halt, fishtailing left across the road. Mulder managed to get it to roll over to the side before it stopped. The Interstate was almost deserted, but the experience itself was frightening enoug h. "You okay, Scully?" She took a deep breath. "Yeah. What happened?" "I don't know," he said, opening the door. "We'll see." "A brand new fucking Chrysler," muttered Mulder under his breath. He looked to make sure no one was coming, then slid around to the driver's side of the car and opened the door. The sun was setting over the hood of the new car. "The universal joint's fallen out," he said. "Even if I could get it back in place, the front tires are locked. This car needs major service. Of course, if it had been any good in the first place, they wouldn't have called it a Chrysler." He took out his cell phone and started dialing numbers. Then he looked at the screen. "Damnit!" Scully took hers out as well. The alpha-numeric display read "OUT OF RANGE". "Well, Mulder, what are we going to do?" He was obviously frustrated, but as with anything else, he shrugged it off cynically. "Hey, the stereo still works." Just then, Mulder spotted a car coming up from behind, about two miles down the road. He got out and waved for help. The red Chevy Blazer pulled up in front of the Agents' maligned automobile and stopped. Two teenagers, a boy and a girl, got out of the right side of the Blazer. "Can we help you guys out?" the boy asked. He was tall, long-haired, with black glasses. He wore a black T-shirt and khaki pants belted at his lean waist. His eyes were lightest brown, almost hazel. Scully thought he was actually quite handsome, in a slightly scruffy, sexy intellectual way. He smiled shyly at Scully and she found herself unable to resist smiling back. "Drake's got a hitch, so he can tow you if you need." He extended his hand to Mulder. "I'm Jeff Yorke, by the way." Mulder shook i t, noticing the metal coolness of a ruby ring on his index finger. Jeff nearly curtsied in front of Scully and she giggled. The girl, who had been hanging behind Jeff, suddenly came around and introduced herself. "I'm Courtney. We can give you a lift to Townsend." Her eyes never left Mulder's. Mulder found himself in the same locked gaze with the same girl from the restaurant. Although she hung back, she seemed to be drifting closer and closer to him. The vibrant, living tone of her velvet dress had a near-hypnotic effect. Was it just his im agination, or had her eyes gone several shades lighter? They seemed just a watery sienna. "If you don't mind," Mulder heard Scully say, "we'd really appreciate it." It sounded like a good idea to him. That's where they had been headed in the first place. "Oh, no trouble at all," Jeff said, politely frowning, smiling, shaking his head, trying to put them at ease. "But may I please ask what we should call you in the meantime?" "I'm Dana," Scully said amiably, flirtatiously. "Fox," said Mulder. Something deep in Scully's mind registered wrong, but before she could think about it, Jeff's hand fell on hers, leading her to the car. They climbed in through the rear doors. The rear seat had been removed and there were rugs spread out on the floor. In the front seat were a boy and a dog. The boy had a Beatles-type haircut and the dog was a large boxer-pinscer mix. "That's Drake War ren, owner of this mighty machine," Jeff introduced. Drake offered a wave and a forced smile. "Hey, Shaggy," Mulder said in Scooby-Doo's voice, and he and Courtney collapsed into giggles. "Listen, Jeff, are they gonna need a tow? Because I need to know, like right now." "Naw, man," Jeff said, putting his arm around Scully's waist. "They said they just needed a lift into town." "Okay. Great. Fantastic, even." Drake annoyedly searched for a song on the tape in his deck. "Onward." The stereo system was impressive, and it was all Scully could do not to cover her ears. Mulder heard the first chords of some Ozzy Osbourne song and after that it sort of fuzzed away. Scully came to when she felt the collision and the car lurched to one side. "Shit," Drake said over Ozzy. She felt Jeff kissing her jaw, moving down to her collarbone. "What was that?" she asked dazedly. Was that saliva? "Mm... nothing, sweetheart," he breathed into her neck. "Sleep." "Jeffy, we've got company," Drake sang. "Your presence is requested up here." She turned Mulder, who was tangled up with Courtney, getting similar treatment. "What the hell is going on?!" she demanded. SMASH. The wheels screeched and the SUV righted itself. "You fucking bitch!!" Drake screamed out the window. The dog was going crazy. It growled, an insane, deep, pit-of-hell growl, and suddenly turned and looked right into Scully's eyes. What she sa w there was pure, intense hate, a demonic, human feeling. Jeff had gotten up to help Drake. Scully felt incredibly light-headed and weak. She had to muster all her strength to pull herself upright. "Mulder..." Courtney's head snapped right to look at Scully. Her eyes were empty and white, no pupil, no iris. She hissed and Scully soaked in the neat row of sharp, needlelike teeth on either side of her incisors. "Jeff! She's waking up!" Courtney screamed. "Oh my God," Scully gasped. "Mulder, wake up! Mulder!" She shook his shoulders and a brief painful moan escaped his mouth "She's coming again aah!!!!" was all Scully heard, and then the final smash came as the Blazer rolled over on its side. It was all blackness until the voice spoke. "Wake up, oh please, you've got to wake up!" He felt Courtney's hands on his neck, fumbling for a pulse, reaching into his jacket pocket. "Yoie! Come here and look at this!" A distant voice, male. "We haven't got the time. This lady's coming out of it, I think." "Mr. Mulder, you've got to wake up!" He opened his eyes, wondering why Courtney had left all of a sudden, and he was not looking at Courtney. The girl looking down at him had choppy, uneven short black hair and Asian eyes. A sprinkle of freckles washed across her nose, accentuating her green-hazel eyes. Mulder let out a little yelp and she grinned. "Don't be scared. I may be a little ugly, but I'm gonna save your federal ass." Mulder sat up and looked around. He saw Scully sitting on the grass by the underbelly of the Blazer, rubbing her eyes and looking disoriented. A pale, serious-looking boy with curly brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses paced towards them wearing a black t renchcoat. Again, he felt fear and tensed up. He didn't even notice he was leaning against the girl until she laughed and squeezed his shoulder. "You're damn affectionate for a cop." The boy looked restless. "They're coming back. Get these two in the car and let's go." He strode off towards a black Volkswagen GTI parked across the street. The girl turned and looked at him soberly. "Looks like we've got to go. You'd better try and get up." Mulder groaned. "Give me a minute." "A minute have we not, Mr. Mulder." But she didn't leave him. She anchored her small hands under his arms and helped him to his feet. "What's the other agent's name?" she asked in a whisper, as though it was a secret. "My partner's Agent Scully. We came here to... God, what..." He palmed his forehead as if to massage the information out. "Don't worry about it. Run towards that piece of junk car over there, and I'll help Agent Scully." He decided not to argue and moved his legs, seeming to be at noodle consistency, in the direction of the GTI. The boy ushered him into the tiny back seat and pushed the front seat back upright. A moment later, the girl came running with Scully, who climbed in the driver's side, starting the engine. It surged to life. "Not a moment too soon," the boy remarked, and Mulder looked in the rear view mirror to see Drake, Jeff, Courtney, and many others he didn't recognize emerging from the woods to the side of the overturned Blazer. Drake pointed at the car and a herd of do gs came bursting out of the foliage, running right at them. "Objects in the rear view mirror are closer than they appear," Mulder reminded them. The car erupted in a full peel-out. "They're only sucking dust tonight," the girl remarked. They arrived at a modest, one-story bungalow with fake brown-and-cream-colored German siding and brick. The girl pulled around the side of the house and parked in the makeshift garage-- a tool shed. Feeling a little better, the agents warily got out of the car and stared at the boy and girl who went about their business as usual. The girl lifted a panel out of the floor, revealing a ladder, and climbed down it. The boy started, then looked at them. "Come down. We may be a little odd, but you're better off here than you were." He continued his descent. Glancing at each other for input, Mulder and Scully followed. The ladder went down to a hallway that led to the basement of the German bungalow. Black sheets were folded and stapled over the four tiny cinderblock-size windows. It was pitch black except for a tiny night-light in the corner. The girl went back down the hallway to close the hatch as the boy lit an oil lamp. The room blazed to life, showing walls covered with posters. The one that stood out in Mulder's dazed mind was one that depicted Sonic Youth holding up picket signs that read ANGRY, VERY ANGRY. He noted two futon mattresses and several blankets in the c orner. "Have a seat anywhere," the boy said, extracting a pack of Parliaments from his trenchcoat pocket, and offered them one. They declined. "Beverage? We've got cold beer and juice." They shook their heads. He sat down and lit up, producing an as htray from somewhere in the dark. Mulder and Scully sat down. The girl returned and joined them. The each pair absorbed the other and tried to gauge what would come next. Finally, the boy spoke. "Ish tells me you two are FBI," he said, "and you deserve some answers. I can't tell you how long we've been waiting." "That's me, Ish," the girl said, waving a newly lit cigarette. She extended her hand toward the agents. "Jane Ishikawa Morley, actually. Like the cigarettes." Mulder and Scully exchanged worried glances before shaking it in turn. "My name is Joseph Church. I would really like to be called Joseph, but my mother and Ish like to call me Yoie." He smiled self-depreciably. "I really don't know where to start. I guess I can sum it up by saying that Townsend has been under the contro l of a supernatural force since this past spring." "Supernatural force?" probed Mulder. "Like whatever posessed those kids back there?" "They're led by a man named Lucius Finn. Finn arrived in Townsend this spring, promising to reform juvenile delinquency for good. He was elected chief of police, and that's when the murders began." "You mean, these murdered animals they found in Central City?" Yoie stared intently at the flame in the oil lamp. "The dogs were just recently. I'm talking about people. Human beings. All the kids in the car you were in are dead. The reason they are still up and running around is because they were killed by Luci us Finn." He paused. "Drake Warren was my best friend. We were both pissed off at this town, being outcasts, never being able to escape. Drake dropped out of school. I was ready to do the same. We had been sort of into the occult for awhile. I don' t know where he found what he did, but one night when we were chanting, a strange pink light appeared in the center of the room. Inside I could see twisted shapes, I could hear people screaming, and the next day at school, it happened. We were told that a new chief of police had been elected and there would be new school policies. Drake said that this was what we'd summoned with our prayers, the 'eater of towns' who'd come to set us free. But as soon as that man set foot in my classroom, I knew someth ing was wrong. I jumped out the window and ran. I haven't been back to school since. Everyone who was at school that day now drives around sucking blood." "They're vampires?" Mulder asked. "Not in the conventional sense. But that's about the closest-fitting definition." Mulder nodded thoughtfully, and turned to Ish. "What about you?" he asked quietly. The girl hesitated. Yoie gave Mulder a meaningful look. "Ever since my parents died, I've had these, um... these problems," she said in a scratchy voice. "I see things... hallucinations... The world gets distorted sometimes, as if I were looking at it through some kind of warped, colored vase. I've seen peop le get huge, ten stories tall. I've seen myself bleed, felt the blood run down me when nothing was there. "I take medicine now, though," she continued a little louder. "My aunt finally decided it was time to see a doctor." She smiled sadly. "It's embarrassing to inherit a borderline schizophrenic niece, I guess. But I feel better now." She frowned again. "On that day that Yoie's talking about, I had been on the drugs for a couple of months and hadn't had a daydream since then. But right before the announcements, I froze in place and couldn't move. It was like everything was hurtling forward and I couldn 't stop it. I saw all the test tubes in the room shatter, all the beakers fell off the shelves, cutting me. I saw a ball floating in the air and ten thousand blank, tortured faces accusing me from within it. I started screaming and couldn't stop. Mrs. Cruz told me to just go home, skip checking out at the office. But it was easier said than done. "Outside, the sidewalk kept heaving up at me and I had to concentrate to keep my balance. I couldn't find my way home, so I just collapsed somewhere. When I woke up, I went home. My aunt was yelling at me because Miya and I hadn't been home yet and it was almost nine. Miya, that's my older sister. I told her Miya probably had a game to cheerlead or something. She told me to go find her at school. I was crying, I was still so scared about what I saw that day. I wanted to talk to Miya about it. She 's usually understanding, although she doesn't associate with me at school. She's pretty and popular, and I'm, well..." Scully thought of Melissa, the sympathetic older sister of her own. "Nine o'clock at night at school and everyone was there. When I asked a guy if he'd seen Miya, he tried to attack me. I managed to get away somehow. "To make a long, long story short, Miya's dead. Her body belongs to Lucius Finn. He keeps lots of girls and women up at the police station. He's made it into a little fortress, kind of. Anyway, Miya's one of them. So is Agony Jones, my best friend. He keeps Agony locked up, I think. Because she doesn't believe him anymore." The girl's strange catlike misogenistic eyes had grown wide and shining in the lamplight. Yoie spoke again out of the darkness. "Most of this town still isn't aware of his true nature. But Ish and I are the last of the students. Finn's using the schools as a recruiting station. He's not ready to take over yet, so he's biding his time. He knows about us, but I suppose he considers us acceptable opponents...no one would believe us anyway. Finn and I struck a deal. He promised not to seek victims outside of Townsend, and we promised not to seek to expose them. They just think he's some wo nderful cop who's cut truancy down to zero percent. As long as he can live without people knowing what he really is, he can survive until he's prepared. But I don't know if it's too late to stop him now. As if we could anyway." Yoie looked up. "But m aybe you can." Mulder nodded. "At any rate, Scully and I were sent up here to talk to him about the death of these dogs and the subsequent visitations." Yoie smirked. "I wouldn't recommend it. But I can't stop you." He yawned. "If you'll excuse me, Ish and I are a little tired. Good night." They retreated to their corner beds and within minutes were both snoring. Scully, previously motionless, crawled over beside Mulder and whispered, "I feel for these kids, I really do, but I think they're highly delusional and susceptible to suggestion. I mean, vampires? Whatever's true, I think we need to speak with Finn as s oon as possible and get out of here." "Well, how do you explain what happened to us, Scully? Why on earth did we come up here if our car broke down? Think about it. We would have gone back to Central City if we were in our right minds. And I don't know what that kid was doing to you in th e car, but he sure wasn't giving you a makeover." "Either way, I just want to get out of here. Nothing about this place seems right." She gripped a prescription bottle in her hands. "I found this when I almost sat on it." The bottle read MORLEY, JANE I. "This is chlorpromazine, a powerful anti-psych oactive drug. I've only read about it used in cases of extreme schizophrenia or LSD abuse. It's possible this girl is very seriously disturbed." Mulder nodded again, taking the bottle from her and placing it on the floor. "We might as well get some rest. Tomorrow we'll go see Finn and get out of here, go back to Washington. Leave it to Sheriff Lubbell." A stir from the corner, and Yoie spoke. "I know I can't stop you from going to see Finn, but you should know, you're putting your lives in danger. He knows you've met us. He's afraid of what you learned here tonight." "You don't know how many times I've heard that before," Mulder said. "I work with unexplained FBI files. My peers call me Spooky." He heard Yoie chuckle. "I know that some things will never be solved. It's up to us to try, though." Yoie sat up. "That's very admirable of you." He sighed and lit another cigarette. "I'm not really tired. In fact, I hardly ever sleep. But Ish can't sleep if I don't pretend." He blew a cloud of smoke. "You're not right about Ish, though. She's no t schizophrenic. Ish and her mother shared a close bond. Her mother never learned English, you know. But somehow, when Ish learned how to speak, so did Hiromi. Just baby language. When she died, Ish lost that connection. I think that if she had some kind of extrasensory capability, when her mother died, it was like having a body part amputated." He paused to take another long drag. "If it's not that, then I blame it on her aunt. The woman is insane. She's been leaving Ish and Miya alone in that house for weeks at a time when they were only, like, five and six years old. She goes off north to Red Lake to play craps and slots at the reservations with the money she gets from the Morleys' estate and the county for taking care of them." Mulder listened attentively. "Is there a bathroom down here?" Scully asked. "Sure," Yoie said. "That door over there." He indicated one upon which the infamous "Zappa Takes a Crappa" poster was taped. "So, like, don't take this the wrong way. But is there anything going on between you and Agent Scully?" Yoie asked Mulder after she left. Mulder chuckled. "I don't know how to answer that. You mean sexually? No. But she's the best thing that ever happened to me. She's my best friend." He felt uncomfortable. "I guess you don't mind if I ask the same of you and, uh..." Yoie shook his head. "No, I don't mind. And no, there isn't. People always seem to think that a relationship between two people of the opposite sex have to result in, well, sex. I used to think so." An expression flashed across his face, an inside jo ke. "But I realized it wouldn't be right between Ish and I. We known each other too well." Still, it was obvious to Mulder how Yoie cared for her as he watched him watch her sleep. "Agent Mulder, I know our situation here is unusual. You may not believe us. But you will when you go to see Finn." He stared behind Mulder, and a stray shadow crossed his face, pausing, and moving on. Did someone just run past the window? "I mean, w hen I hear someone speak the truth, I *feel* the truth in my blood, in my veins. My skin tingles when I hear Martin Luther King Jr. or Ghandi. I think you do, too. That's why you know when you talk to Finn that his whole existence is a lie, a terrible mistake. You become frozen solid where you stand." Scully studied her reflection in the mirror. The tiny, dark bathroom heightened her feeling of claustrophobia. She felt completely uneasy in this place. WEDNESDAY, 8:52 AM "Here, take the Fartmobile," Ish said, handing her Volkswagen's keys to Scully. "If it breaks down, call me and I'll ride down on my bike and give it a kick in the ass." After a nice breakfast of Lucky Charms and beer (orange juice with Scully's and Ish's), they set out to go down to the police station. Ish offered them the use of her car if they wanted it. It had sounded like a good idea. "No one is going to believe this is a rental car," Mulder said when he saw it in the light. Bumper stickers wallpapered the back advertising various bands. Above the crooked license plate, Mulder noted a particularly ironic one. PEOPLE TASTE BETTER THA N ANIMALS. "Mulder, look at this," Scully said, pointing at the passenger side. It was dented in and streaked with chips of red paint. "Do you think they could have run the Blazer off the road?" she whispered, so the kids sitting in the driveway wouldn't hear. Mulder shrugged. "In this? Doubt it." Scully just frowned at him. "Don't you think it's a little suspicious? I mean, how did they know we were there? And why did they want us out so bad?" "Maybe they didn't want us making out in the back seat." Scully flushed, and Mulder felt guilty. They got in the car and Mulder started the engine. Weird, loud music blasted out of the speakers and Mulder quickly fumbled with the volume control. "It's been awhile since I've driven something foreign." Ish waved to them from the driveway, and they drove off. Scully glanced in the rearview after a couple of blocks. The girl was sitting down on the driveway, rocking back and forth and holding her head. TOWNSEND MUNICIPAL POLICE AND FIRE DISPATCH TOWNSEND, WISCONSIN 9:08 AM "Can I help you?" asked the dispatcher behind the glass window. "Yes, I'm Special Agent Dana Scully and this is Special Agent Mulder. We're with the FBI. Sheriff Lubbell sent us here to talk to Chief Finn." The dispatcher regarded them carefully. "Is there a problem?" Scully asked matter-of-factly, after she didn't buzz them in. "No," said the dispatcher. "I'll page an escort." She picked up the intercom. "Yes, send somebody down here to show the FBI to the chief's office." "Heavy security for a police department in a town of seven thousand," Mulder whispered to Scully, nodding towards the two burly officers standing across from them. The door opened and a tall boy with shaggy hair stepped out. They immediately recognized the countenance of Drake Warren. "Agents Mulder, Scully. Please follow me." Scully stepped backwards and one of the officers moved to stand in front of the exit. Mulder glanced behind him. "Let's go, Scully," he said, placing a hand on her back. He flashed her the sketch, and she confirmed his assessment that it was indeed him. The hallway was long, and all the doors were closed. From a distance, dogs' barking could be heard. "You guys have got a good-sized canine unit, I take it," Mulder said. Drake smiled. "You could say that." He gestured towards the end of the hall. "Take your first right. I've got some paperwork to do." "You work here?" asked Mulder. "Yeah, I'm Chief Finn's personal assistant," Drake smirked. Scully paused and looked into one of the rooms. In place of an office there was a dorm-type room with two single beds and a vanity with lots of makeup. Drake noticed this and grasped Scully's arm, pulling her forward. "Please proceed and take care of your business with Chief Finn as quickly as possible," he said through clenched teeth. "Chief Finn is a very busy man." "Who do you think you are?" Mulder demanded. "Get your hands off my partner." He pushed Drake full in the chest and the boy fell back. "Listen," he growled. "Just get in there and get out." He started marching off, then considered and looked back. "And don't count on me for a ride back to the city." The two agents watched him leave, and then exchanged glances. "How are we getting back, Mulder?" Scully wondered aloud, suddenly getting very tense. "Let's get this over with," Mulder said, and they entered Lucius Finn's office. A secretary greeted them in a small front room. She had long, dark hair and Asian eyes. "Can I help you?" she asked politely. They pulled out their badges. "Oh, FBI? And you need to see Chief Finn? Hold on just a second." She sat back down at her d esk and pushed the intercom. "What is it, Miya?" "Agents Mulder and Scully are here to see you, sir. Shall I send them in?" "Go right ahead." The girl took her finger off the button and smiled at them, saying nothing. Her brilliant, light golden eyes danced with light. She really was a pretty girl. She could have been Ish's twin, were it not for the lack of freckles. Muld er looked at Scully and saw that even she thought it wise to say nothing. They entered the office. The towering, firey-haired Lucius Finn stood a good six inches above Mulder, next to a large American flag. He wore a blue velveteen suit and maroon tie. His garish attire contributed greatly to the awesome aspect of this man. If he weren't a cop, Muld er thought, he'd make an excellent Southern Baptist preacher. "Agents," he boomed, "make yourselves at home." He showed them two seats across from his desk, going so far as to pull Scully's chair out for her. Scully accepted, obviously affected by this man's stature. Mulder sat down, remembering what happened in the Blazer. "I like to keep thins casual around here. My men are all plainclothes, we address each other equally. It's part of my management style." "Hospitable," Mulder said. "So, if I may cut to the chase, Chief Finn, where are you from?" Finn smiled, folding his hands on his desk next to a strange crystal globe paperweight. Shapes inside swirled, at times taking on humanlike features. Scully's brain, wound tight, processed what Ish had recounted in her visions. "Nice," Mulder said when he saw it. He took in the gold wedding band on his right hand. His nails were neatly manicured, almost ladylike. "I myself am from Green Bay. Big Packers fan. I moved down here this spring when I heard there was a need." He gave them an honest, I'm -leveling-with-you look. "Back in the Bay, I worked with violent crimes. Saw a lot, learned a lot. I heard through the grapevine that Townsend was suffering the worst juvenile crime rate in Wisconsin." He refreshed the look, leaning back. "We're a sm all town. We've got our problems. Too many abusive families, fractured families, teen parents. Way too many for a town of our size." "How exactly did you hope to remedy the situation?" asked Mulder. Finn made two flat gestures with his hand, as if explaining a football play. "I focused on one problem at a time. Truancy, shoplifting, and most recently, kids causing trouble late at night. We've just passed a teen curfew law that requires kids under 18 to be inside after eleven p.m." "And that seems to be working?" that was Scully. Finn nodded an of-course. "I went to speak at all the schools. Told kids they'd stand to gain a lot more if they followed the rules. I try to make it fun for them. Like a game of tag." He smiled cryptically. Mulder was confused by this comment. He was about to ask what Finn meant when Scully broke in. "What do you know of these recent dog exsanguinations?" Finn shook his head. "It's sad, it really is. I can't claim to reach them all." He leveled. "Unfortunately, a certain... element... in our youngsters is emerging. A passive, yet determined interest in the occult. Satanism and things of that nature. We're trying to control it with the curfew law." He looked down. "But what they really need is a family. A set of rules and values, and goals." Mulder extended the sketch of the boy to Chief Finn. "Do you recognize this boy?" He studied it for a moment, then put it down on his desk and sighed. "Hard to say, really. Although I think he slightly resembles Joseph Church. Well, the kids call him Yoie." "Does this Joseph Church have a record?" Mulder asked cooly. "About a mile long. Such a shame, really," Finn sighed again, then stood up and went over to a file cabinet marked SPECIAL ATTENTION. He paged through and removed a file folder. "Yes, Church, Joseph Christian, age seventeen. He's been arrested four ti mes on illegal consumption, once for unlicensed operation of a motor vehicle. The kid has had behavioral problems since he started school. Truancy, insubordination. I feel for the kid, though. He's smitten with a younger girl who's pretty much psychot ic." "Who's that?" "Jane Morley. Ish. God knows where they get these names. As a matter of fact, she's my secretary Miya's sister. Jane's got her own problems. Their parents died when she was five. Ever since then she's been in the care of her aunt, Shannon Morley. I know Shannon personally, and she's got her hands full as it is, trying to pull a divorce settlement that's been going on for ten years. Shannon finally took the little darling to a behavioral psychologist, who's concluded she has schizophrenia. Drugged the girl up so she can socialize. Don't get this wrong, but I think those poor kids of intermarriages come out mixed in all sorts of ways." "I can't think of a right way to get that," Scully said icily. Finn came off as offended. "Look, agents, I know you've already met them. Nothing goes on in this town that I don't know about. I haven't the slightest idea why you came down here, since you already knew everything. But, it's just as well." "This is an ongoing investigation," Mulder said. Scully started to fidget in her seat. "It was ongoing." Finn pressed the intercom. "Miya, honey, would you kindly summon Drake and some others to escort Agent Mulder to the tank? Thanks." Finn turned back to them. "I'm aware of your track record, Agent Mulder. It's rather spooky, isn't it? So I don't think anyone would believe you if you said that a vampire has taken your lovely partner as a trophy? Would they accuse you of murder, Agent Mulder? I think they would." Mulder and Scully were already on their feet. "Let's get out of here, fast," Mulder whispered to her. She seemed paralyzed with fear. Mulder thought of Yoie's words. Finn came around the desk so fast Mulder swore he couldn't see it. He grabbed Scully, pinning her hands and cuffing her. "I've always been partial to redheads." Grasping the back of her neck, he tried to kiss her. She struggled and tried to break free . "Get the hell off her!" roared Mulder, lunging, drawing his gun. He seemed to bounce off, but it got Finn's attention. Mulder trained his Sig Sauer on Finn's head. "Let her go!" "Go ahead, Agent Mulder," Finn gasped. "Shoot me." Mulder almost took him up on the offer, but Drake and three police officers burst in, throwing him to the floor. He took a hard kick in the ribs as he watched Scully's feet kick past him. "Mulder!" "Scully..." he tried to shout, but he had no wind. The four men cuffed him and hauled him to his feet. Finn yanked Scully by the cuffs around a doorway. "Mulder!" His vision faded in and out. "Just get out of here, Mulder!" Then everything went blac k. Ish Morley was just getting her bike out of the garage to ride by the police station and check on the agents. Suddenly she blinked and her pupils dilated. Yoie sat nearby on the lawn, smoking a cigarette and reading the paper. He heard the crash as the bike bounced on the grass and Ish screamed and grabbed her ears. "Ish? Ish, what's wrong?" Yoie ran to her side. She sunk down to her knees and hands, staring at the ground. "Agony says, 'help is on the way'," she moaned. "Agony says to run. Agony says to go before it's too late." Mulder awoke with a start. He was freezing cold. Glancing over, he saw his shirt and coat lying over the bed opposite. His belt had been removed. He stared past his feet, focusing his eyes with some effort. Bars. He was in the drunk tank. Groaning, he sat up, wiping his eyes. The side of his head and his sternum and ribs were sore. He supposed he'd taken the fifth- or sixth-worst beating in his FBI career. That thought made him laugh out loud, a crazy, desperate sound. "But it's not funny," a soft, steady voice said out of nowhere. Mulder searched the cell for the source. He went over and peered through the bars. Across the walkway in the other cell, a thin, pale face stuck out between the bars. Framed with long bla ck hair and blond bangs, her eyes were solid white. He almost panicked, rearing back, but caught himself just in time. "You're a vampire," he said. "You're an FBI agent," said she. "What are you doing down here?" he asked. "Dying," she said. "Trying to starve myself. It's hard to commit suicide when you're immortal." She licked her dry lips. Mulder noticed her tongue piercing, and when she tossed her hair back, it revealed a tiny silver ring in her left eyebrow. "Your partner is going to die unless I get you out of here." "Why do you care?" "You're afraid, Mulder." She made a sour, angry face. "Forget what you've read by Anne Rice. These vampires don't watch humanity from afar. They aren't radiant beings. They aren't pussies. These vampires eat, drink, have sex, smoke afterwards. They have weaknesses just like you. They're scared of their own immortality. So they don't just hate crosses, they hate all items of faith. You have faith in your partner, Mulder. But you're scared for her." "You're telepathic. I can feel you inside my head... why are you different?" Mulder squinted, trying to tell where the girl was staring, or if she had indeed starved herself of blood long enough to go blind. She shook her head angrily, casting waves of brittle black hair over the bars. "You also have faith in the truth. This faith will serve you. The answers are unimportant. But at least you ask the questions." "Then answer me this--why?" Her head sunk down lower, and Mulder could see her withering frame sprawled out on the floor in a pool of black material, pulling at the shackles on her ankles and wrists. He felt sick with pity for this once-beautiful creature. "I sought Finn out. I w anted his power. I wanted to help him destroy this town, this hellhole that I thought had sucked the life out of me long before he did. He gave it to me, and it was all I could have asked for, and more. I victimized everyone who had victimized me. My parents, teachers, peers. Even a few friends." She began to cough uncontrollably, spitting watery blood onto the floor. It swirled back down towards a drain. After a minute or so the spasm let up and she spoke again. "But then I realized that I had m ade them like me. That we were all the same being. Of course, Finn has given me special powers. I was his Lilith, his number one whore. But I saw that what I had wasn't so special anymore, once everyone I hated had it too. I stopped drinking. Finn k eeps me here, locked up, force-feeding me." She almost began to cough again, and Mulder was afraid she was choking. "It sounds trite. I hate it. I just want to die. I'm dead, but I can't die. You can't understand that." Mulder suddenly remembered something Ish had said. "You're Agony, aren't you?" She smiled at him, revealing small, even sharp teeth. "I miss that name. Ish gave it to me in kindergarten. She knew I hated my name. It's really Agnes." She opened her mouth and a brief sob escaped. "You've seen Ish? She doesn't know it's too late . Please tell her, please tell her I love her..." Then the coughing came again, and it went on for much longer. Mulder worried that the poor, shadowlike being across from him was going to die right there. At last, she spoke again. Her voice was much more hoarse. "I can get you out of here. I don't have much time." She looked at him soberly. "And neither do you." She closed her mouth and appeared to be trying to swallow for several minutes. Her blank , white eyes closed and her breath came fast from her nostrils. Suddenly she spat something across the floor. It clanked against the bottom of the bars of his cell. Mulder blindly groped along the outside of the bars. His fingers closed on something metal. It was her tongue ring. He couldn't help giving her a smile. "Use it," she said, "on the lock on the door." She began to cough again. Her body heaved with th e effort, knocking her bony shoulders into the bars. He inserted the metal bar in the keyhole and fished around. All of a sudden, it clicked open as if without another thought. He rushed out, forgetting his possessions, to try the same on the girl's ce ll. In between hiccoughs, she rasped, "No use." Tears worked their way around the corner of his eyes as he realized that Agony had opened his cell, that the ring was just a thing he had to put faith in. Nothing but a piece of shiny silver metal. But she could not open her own. "No, no!" he slammed t he wall in frustration. "Just go," she spat bloodily. He knelt down next to her and cradled her head in his hands. She reached for his hand with hers. Mulder grasped it, feeling each of the bones in it, like a small bird. The gold band on her third finger was too large. Mul der remembered seeing one on Finn and felt even sicker. "Please, just go." Dana Scully said to herself. She imagined Mulder would say that this was an even worse place to live. Then she thought That put it into perspective. There were so many things she needed to tell him. So there she lay, handcuffed to a bedpost, jacketless and beltless. Her arms ached from twisting them around so she could sit up. Scully gazed out the window at the perfect sunny day. People walked by on the street, kids with basketballs, mothers pushi ng strollers, businesspeople going to lunch. The black GTI was parked across the street. It was just too perfect. The door opened and Lucius Finn strode in, shirtcollar open, taking her in hungrily. "A young, pretty medical doctor," he leered. "I don't believe I've had one of those before." He leaned over her, trying to kiss her as he removed the handcuffs. She k icked and punched at him, but she was losing her strength. "A feisty one, eh? You'll taste even better if you struggle." He bared his sharp teeth and Scully fixated on them, terrified. Instead of biting her neck, he laughed out loud. "Oh, not yet, baby. That part comes later. I like to nibble. To taste." He started unbuttoning her blouse. "Kindly get the fuck off my favorite FBI agent," Ish Morley demanded. Both Scully and Finn looked, surprised, at her. She carried no weapon. "Ish, what... what are you doing? Are you crazy? Go..." Scully stopped because she could no longer hold onto a coherent thought. "What a marvelous surprise, Jane. I'm glad you could join us." "We had a deal, Finn." "Of course we did," he snarled, jumping up, advancing on her. "And you broke it, you little whore! You told the FBI everything! And I'm now going to solve this little problem and enjoy myself while doing so." He cast a lecherous glance back at Scully. Ish's chest heaved. "You broke it off when you killed those dogs and went after people in Central City. The FBI followed. It's your fault." "No, it's your fault, bitch! Because of you, this woman is going to die!" He reached out and grabbed her by her short hair. "And you're going to watch very carefully, because you're next!" Finn laughed maniacally. "I hardly know which of you I'll enj oy more!" With mounting horror, Scully saw that Ish was going limp too. She tried to move, but all she could do was lie there like a sack of potatoes. "Ish..." Ish ripped free, striking out with her arms and legs. Scully amusedly saw that she caught him pretty good in the crotch. Finn opened his mouth in a silent yelp, kneeling on the ground. "Now you're going to listen to me, you cocksucking son of a bitch. You're going to let Agent Scully go. And you're going to let her go because you took Miya and Agony away from me. As Agony lies in torment, I'm telling you that you're going to let Scul ly go, and you're going to take me instead." "Ish, no..." but that was all. Finn growled. "Why should I?" "Frankly, I don't give a fuck why! Make up your own reason. Because Miya and Agony chose you. Because I said I did. All I know is that you're going to do it." "You don't know what you're asking, you psychotic bitch." "The fuck I don't!! Kill me!" she screamed at him as he knelt there. She moved in on him, raising her voice, screaming in his face. "Suck all my blood out! Make me dead! I don't give a FUCK!! And you want to know why?" She kicked him in the chest. "You want to know why?" "Why?" "Because I've seen things that make you look like a wet dream! They don't care if you're alive or dead. They use you to breed more of their own. They're coming, don't think about that--" She doubled over, clutching her head. "You're a delusional bastard, you know that." "Fuck you," she groaned. "Scully, I know you can get up. Get up and run." Scully managed to sit up, but that was about it. Ish knocked into Finn, who fell over. "Oh Jesus, Scully, do it now!" her pitch was becoming frantic. "Do whatever you can! Just get out of here!" The lanky girl was reeling now. Scully reached out for her and realized she was standing on her own feet. "Dana..." "I'm here, Ish." They embraced each other briefly, once, Ish's head resting on Scully's shoulder, and were ripped apart just as soon. Scully watched as if in slow-motion as Finn tackled Ish, baring his fangs, ripping into her neck. The jeans-clad legs kicking out in rebellion, slower each time. And then she was still, and there were only the sounds of murmured swallowing. "Oh my God," she gasped, unable to tear herself away. And then she was falling back, back out of the room. Mulder was there to catch her. The door swung closed, and Scully sobbed into Mulder's chest. She didn't see it, but his own tears were falling into her hair as well. Outside, the sun beat down on the agents' heads, eternally oblivious to human injustice. A few feet away, the body of Drake Warren was sprawled out on the lawn, hammered through the chest with a railroad spike. "It was Yoie," he said. All of a sudden, there was an explosion as glass shattered on the second floor of the police station. Lucius Finn's massive body plummeted to the pavement, landing with a bone-crunching thud. The agents rushed over to see Finn, dead. A large flagpole r an through his torso. He was impaled on his own American flag. Blank, sightless white eyes saw nothing, if they ever did. Mulder looked up to see Yoie Church hunched over the broken glass, bleeding. If the boy would have still had it in him to smile, Mulder knew that he would have. The boy stumbled out a minute later, carrying the lifeless body of Ish Morley. Her neck had been torn almost all the way open, so he had to keep her head up, which was extremely difficult in his condition. He collapsed on the grass in front of Mulder an d Scully. Scully rushed to his side. "I'm not too bad," he gasped. "Not so bad." He pushed Scully away gently, reaching into his trenchcoat pocket for another railroad spike. He bowed his head intently over the body of his friend, carefully, delicately finding the spot directly above the heart. Small tears appeared on Ish's bloody sweater. And then, he leaned with all his weight, and it was done. After a long moment, he looked up. "I did what I had to do." His eyes rolled back into his head, and he went limp. "Mulder, we've got to get this boy to a hospital." Scully checked his pulse. "It's extremely weak. Oh my God, Mulder, his shoulder's broken." Another moment later, and there was a huge explosion. The main entrance to the police building erupted in a column of fire, followed by sections of either side. "We've got to get him there ourselves," he said, and gingerly picked the boy up. "Run, Scul ly," he shouted over the blasts, and they ran for the car. Mulder placed him lying down in the backseat and they got in the front. He started the car and floored the accelerator. Minutes later on the highway back to Central City, Scully said something Mulder wouldn't have expected. "The fire Yoie set will have destroyed all the evidence. I wonder if it isn't better that way." he hoped. But deep down, he knew the truth. "It wasn't Yoie." Scully looked at him quizzically, but settled back and said nothing. Within the minute she was asleep. Mulder watched the open highway grow blurry and finally just let the tears flow. FOX MULDER'S FIELD REPORT FRIDAY, WASHINGTON, D.C. The events that took place in Townsend, Wisconsin on September 15th and 16th have yet to be fully explained. Despite his claims to have been a police officer in Green Bay, no prior record of any Lucius Finn has matched the description of the man Agent Scully and I encountered. Even were it not for the paranormal, inhuman nature of this creature Finn, there were still obvious abuses of power on his part that should have been investigated sooner. Wisconsin State Police recovered fifteen bodies at the site of the fire, among them, Drake Warren, Jane Morley, and Agnes Jones, a suspected runaway who had been missing for over five months. Jones's cause of death was listed as incineration, but it is m y belief that she starved to death in her holding cell at the same exact moment as the fire erupted, and that by her express will this fire was caused. Joseph Church was taken to St. Anthony's Hospital in Central City and treated for multiple contusions, fractures, and blood loss. However, he never regained consciousness, and flatlined two days later. He could not be revived. Lucius Finn was/is a manifestation of pure evil that we have yet to comprehend. Because of his death, the village of Townsend remains at a stalemate. Finn's remaining vampires cannot feed regularly without attracting unwanted attention, and even though the residents of Townsend are unaware of their vampiric counterparts, they are moving at a growing rate to places like Slate Rock, Central City, Green Bay, and Madison--better places for their kids to grow up. Townsend will eventually erode into a gas station and a McDonald's on the side of the Interstate, but until witnesses come forward or new evidence is presented, this case, X-680162045, will remain open and unsolved. A boy and a girl shared a bond so close it transcended sexuality. They stalked demons, real and personal, wearing trenchcoats and acting tough in spite of their intense fear of what was next. They fought against an immense juggernaut, a force so huge t hat it not only threatened their bodies but their souls as well. Were they really so different? Mulder, Scully, Ish, Yoie. * FBI HEADQUARTERS FRIDAY AFTERNOON Mulder sat at his desk, staring at the clock. He could go home. But it would be pointless. Another weekend alone, and then Monday, another case. And after that, more would surely come, blurring together. Dead ends. Red tape. X-Files, unexplained f orever, the abandoned souls left to memory or maybe a higher power, if any such thing existed anymore. He closed his eyes, picturing Scully at home, asleep. Innocent in appearance, rays of afternoon sunlight through her gauzy bedroom window, caressing her face, porcelain skin and dark red tresses. It was a peaceful thought. Her freckles, a placebo. Inside, behind his own hazel eyes, they waxed and waned desperately, mercilessly. The souls lost in death, in corruption. His eyes shot open. Unable to sleep, she drifted between levels of consciousness. Sometimes she awoke with a strange face hovering over her. Eyes white and void, somehow wanting her hungrily and lasciviciously at the same time. Hands on her wrists, forcing her hips back, her own body betraying her, going flaccid and compliant when s he should have fought back. The pained, haunted girl before her spoke truly, although it killed her. This girl who knew Scully wouldn't have done the same for her. Dana felt the girl's arms around her tightly, sadly. And the next second, she was ripped away, her arterial blood splashed across the bed like so much dirty dishwater. The boy who'd gone in, knowing his best friend was dead, expending his last strength to protect her from returning, even though he probably wanted her back more than anything in the world. In a blast of fire, it disappeared into the rear view mirror, punctuated by the shallow crackling of a dying child's final breaths. And Scully slept dreamlessly, restlessly. He had dozed off in his chair. It was past seven. The light outside would be dying, but he didn't care. The figure in his dreams walked across a field, coming towards him. Her black shroud billowed out, long hair whipping in the wind. Brightest blue eyes, she laughed, extending her long arms high above her head, showing him. She spun about ecstatically, worshipping the white sky. Free. She never grew any closer, but he watched her dance, crying. TOWNSEND, WISCONSIN 7:16 P.M. CDT A lone man walked the streets, smoking as the pink light cast his impossibly long shadow across the gravel. No children played. Dogs barked elsewhere, the only sound. He came to the first house. An empty nest. Well-attended garden, late-model two-door in the driveway. A hand-painted sign next to the threshold spelled `Church' in cursive letters. She wasn't home, this woman. She was in Chicago, far away from her tragedy. Her youngest son was dead, the two others in college, her husband in a minimum-security facility for taking the rap for his deceased son's drug charges a few months ago. Bri nging the cigarette to his lips, the man thought about expediting his release in exchange for their cooperation. Turning, he walked on, reflecting on the wisdom of letting Lucius Finn into Townsend. His drug had been laughed out of the Consortium until Finn had taken it himself. Clinical vampirism had proved an effective biological weapon, but taking out the enti re town had been unnecessary. It didn't matter--it was eating itself from the inside out anyway. Now he came to the second house, a monstrous two-story with an unkempt, rotting front porch. There was no car in the driveway, but he knew that in the back, a black Volkswagen was parked, forgotten, collecting dust in its yellowing windows. The house w as an exhumed body, devoid of warmth, shriveled and unrecognizable. He closed his eyes, exhaling smoke. The woman who'd lived here had been an easy payoff. A high rise apartment in Las Vegas and all the insurance money in one lump sum, and she'd forg otten she'd ever had a niece. She would be dead within the month of an alcohol-sedative overdose. The Consortium couldn't risk dealing with such an instable person. Finally, he walked west into the setting sun once more, lighting a third cigarette. The graveyard loomed ahead. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but this was the most difficult part. His chest cinched, reminding him of his own brush with mortality. The rows stretched out in front of him, long and neat. Many of the graves were new, of course. New grass poked up from tossed earth. None showed signs of recent upheaval, which was good. Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief. Wait. This one was fresh. He squatted, looking at the nameplate. Of course, it was Jane Morley's. He bowed his head, cursing himself for letting panic get the best of him. Behind, a choked sob escaped a dry throat. He turned to see a girl kneeling there, face in her hands, sobs racking her thin back. Dark, straight hair cascaded across the grass. She hadn't even heard him walk past her. "I'm sorry," was all he could say. He was surprised that he'd let anything escape. It wasn't in his nature to extend sympathy to anyone. She looked up, startled. Her eyes were lightest gold and almond-shaped. She was really gorgeous, he thought, not able to take his eyes off her long, silky hair. "Why?" was all she asked, hopeless. He cleared his throat and sat back, looking down. "For your loss," he replied. "Forgive me. I've seen to much of it in my time." She broke down. "She was my sister. My only one. She was only sixteen." The girl before him couldn't be much older than that. "You must miss her terribly." "I'm alone," she cried, falling into his arms, nuzzling his chest. It felt right, this beautiful girl, her smooth, olive-colored skin against his suit. "I need someone." The man sighed, embracing her, aware of her hot breath on his neck. "You're a lovely girl." Sweet, sharp pain that was over as soon as it started. She looked up at him, her lips red, white teeth straight and sharp. "I've needed someone for a long time." His last thought was of total completeness as he lost himself in the darkening sky. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- No, of course he's not dead. Um, I have a couple of things to say before you open your E-mailer to tell me how much I suck, one is that my Townsend, Wisconsin is out of my zine's comic series and not the one in Fallen Angel and it's seriously I swear a coincidence. I hadn't even see n Fallen Angel until this summer, and I started Townsend in early 97. The other is that I think Chris Carter's on crack and that's why the new season of the X-Files is so screwed up. I like it.... but it is definitely drug-induced. That's all. Spray it at me at mentholithium@iname.com -CG