Title: Nightmare on Helm Street

Author: Waddles 52

Summary: An evening of Halloween fun doesn’t go as

planned.

Rating: PG13

Category: MT

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Just

for fun. Not for profit.

Archives: Two weeks exclusively for the VS11

Halloween Special, after that please ask.

Feedback: Sure. Waddles52@insightbb.com

Thanks: To Satchie for her skillful beta and

encouragement.

“Well, we managed to get another expense report in

under the wire,” Dana Scully announced as she breezed

into the basement office she shared with her partner.

Fox Mulder looked up and continued to read the

pamphlet in his hands.

Leaning over his back, she read aloud, “Industrial

Nightmare. The mother of all haunted houses.

Guaranteed to make your worst fears a reality. Open

October 3rd through November 2nd, 7-12 PM. Come if

you dare.”

Scully couldn’t help laughing. “Why are you so

interested in this? Is the haunted house actually

haunted?”

“Not that I’m aware of. The guys went the other

night and said it was awesome.”

“Now, that scares me. Are you going to go?”

“Yeah, I’m considering it. What exciting plans do

you have for this Halloween evening?”

“Just the usual Halloween stuff. Hand out candy to

the three or four kids that knock on my door, then

eat the rest of it myself.”

“Wanna check out the haunted house with me?”

Scully thought it over for a few seconds. “Why not?

Besides, you’ll need someone to hold your hand when

you get scared.”

“Yeah, right. It’ll probably be the other way

around,” Mulder teased.

“Oh yeah? Put your money where your mouth is,” she

challenged. “The first one who screams buys dinner.”

Mulder stood up and looked down at his petite

partner. “Bring plenty of money because I’m

starving.”

“So am I and I want to eat in a nice restaurant. No

take-out, so be sure to stop by an ATM on the way

home,” Scully countered.

Mulder grabbed his suit coat from behind his chair

and shrugged into it. “I’m sure I’ll be picking out

the restaurant, but I need some money for the weekend

anyway, so I’ll hit an ATM just to make you happy.”

“So, what time should I be ready?”

“How about seven o’clock?”

“I’ll be ready and waiting,” she agreed.

“And I’ll be there along with my appetite.”

Scully picked up her purse and briefcase and Mulder

locked the door. They made their way to the

elevator, each anticipating a free meal.

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At 10 o’clock, Mulder pulled into the parking lot of

the Helm Street Shop and Go and parked in front of

the door. “I’m going to get some aspirin before I

buy your dinner, under protest I might add. My ass

really hurts.”

Scully tried very hard to keep her laughter under

control. “Mulder, I’m really sorry the guy with the

chain saw jumped in front of you and made you loose

your balance, but you did scream.”

“No, you’re not sorry. You just love it when you win

a bet.”

“Well, that too,” she chuckled.

Out of habit, Mulder surveyed the store before he

left the car. It wasn’t crowded, just the cashier

and a customer dressed like Freddy Krueger. “Looks

like he escaped from the haunted house,” he thought

as he opened the door and gingerly slid out of his

seat.

Scully had also observed the shopper in the popular

costume. “Do you need me to protect you from big,

bad, Freddy?” she teased.

Mulder leaned back in the door. “Nah, I think I can

handle a guy in a crappy looking costume with plastic

blades on his hand.”

“Well, give a shout if you need any help.”

Mulder closed the door and limped inside. So far,

the evening hadn’t gone as planned, and he knew he

would hear about it for days to come. To top it all

off he felt the beginnings of a headache behind his

eyes. “Happy Halloween,” he muttered under his

breath.

He found the aspirin quickly and took his place in

line behind Freddy Krueger, who was purchasing a 12

pack of beer and a carton of cigarettes.

“I’m sorry, mister, but the law says I have to see

some ID before I can sell you this stuff,” the

cashier explained.

“I don’t need no ID, ’cause you’re gonna give it to

me, along with what’s in that safe and the cash

register.”

“Shit, what’s with this guy? He doesn’t even have a

weapon.” Mulder was tired and sore so he decided to

see how the cashier was going to handle the problem

before he stepped in.

The cashier began edging toward the phone. “Mister,

why don’t you just leave and we’ll forget this ever

happened. If you don’t, I’ll have to call the law.”

“No cops! Just do what I told you!”

“Okay, this has gone far enough,” Mulder interjected.

“I’m a federal agent. Now, you can either do what

the cashier suggested, or I can hold you at gunpoint

and wait for the police to settle this.”

“No cops!” the Freddy look alike screamed as he

turned to face Mulder.

Mulder automatically reached for his weapon. In that

split-second, the costumed man stretched out his arm

and raked the blades across Mulder’s chest and

stomach. A look of surprise, then pain flashed

across his face. As he looked down he saw the torn

fabric of his shirt, blood quickly turning it

crimson. His legs gave way and he landed hard on his

already bruised ass, then slumped over to rest on his

left side. Mulder’s last conscious thoughts were of

the haunted house. Why did he wait in line for an

hour and pay to have a scary experience when he

seemed to encounter enough weirdness on his own?

In the car, Scully had pulled the visor mirror down

to check her lipstick. Deciding that she didn’t need

a touch-up, she flipped the visor up just in time to

see the disguised man slash Mulder’s chest and

abdomen.

“Son of a bitch!” she screamed, as she pushed her way

out of the car and drew her weapon in one fluid

motion.

The cashier quickly met the robber’s demands as

Mulder lay bleeding on the floor. In the meantime,

Scully positioned herself outside the exit, out of

the thief’s line of vision.

As the man burst through the door, Scully shouted,

“Federal agent! Put your hands on your head!”

The Freddy look alike waggled his bladed fingers and

took a step toward her.

“Don’t come any closer,” she ordered. “I will

shoot!”

The robber ignored her and continued to advance,

slashing at her. Knowing she had no other choice,

Scully fired her weapon and watched as the man

dropped to the pavement. Blood began to trickle from

the neat hole in his forehead above his right eye.

Scully knelt beside him and extended a shaking hand

to his neck. Feeling no pulse, she leapt up and

pushed the door open. “Call 911! Get an ambulance

here on the double!”

Before the cashier could punch in the numbers, she

was beside Mulder, checking his pulse. Although very

fast, it was there. She breathed a sigh of relief

and began to survey the damage from the blades.

Mulder’s ribs had protected his chest to a certain

extent, but those three, long slashes would require

sutures even though Scully was sure that there wasn’t

any major damage. The two cuts across his upper

abdomen were another matter. They were quite deep

and would probably require surgery.

“Help is on the way,” the cashier reported, handing

her a first-aid kit. “What can I do to help?”

Scully opened the first-aid kit and found a few gauze

pads and some antibiotic ointment. “Useless! Get me

a package of maxi-pads, super if you have them.”

“I’m on it!” he exclaimed, running to the back of the

store.

Scully looked around and spied a stand holding free

publications. She quickly dumped the newspapers out,

and after turning Mulder onto his back, put the stand

under his feet to elevate them.

The movement elicited a moan from her partner. His

eyelids fluttered, then opened, just as Scully was

tearing open the package of maxi-pads that the

cashier had just handed her.

“They’re absorbent so they make good bandages,” she

explained, anticipating his question. “I have to put

some pressure on those gashes. It might hurt a

little.”

“Okay,” he agreed, then moaned loudly as she pressed

them firmly on the wounds.

“Sorry, but I need to slow the bleeding down.

You’ll do anything to get out of paying up on your

bets won’t you?” she teased, hoping to keep his mind

off the pain.

“No, I’ll pay up,” he gasped as she applied more

pressure to his wounds. “You pick the restaurant.

Anywhere you want.”

Scully reached for more pads to replace the ones that

had soaked through. “I intend to pick a very

expensive place, one with plates and silverware

instead of wrappers and paper cups.”

“Okay, as long as knives aren’t required.”

“Well, I’ll think it over and let you know later.”

Scully breathed a sigh of relief as the ambulance and

police arrived simultaneously.

“Dinner, dancing . . .” Mulder’s voice trailed off

as his eyes closed, oblivious to the bustle around

him as the paramedics moved in and took over.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mulder’s eyes didn’t open again until the next day.

He recognized the sounds and smells of a hospital,

then remembered how he came to be there. He took

stock of his situation as his eyes scanned the room.

Several bags of fluid were hanging from the IV pump,

and he observed wires running to a heart monitor. He

was relieved to find that he wasn’t intubated, but

was quickly dismayed when he swallowed and felt an NG

tube. He guessed there was a Foley lurking under the

sheets, along with several other tubes that he wasn’t

familiar with.

“Yes, partner, you have quite a few tubes and wires

this time,” Scully supplied when she noticed him

looking over the medical equipment.

He turned to his left, happy to see her smiling face.

“How bad?” he croaked, wondering why she wasn’t

giving him ice chips as she usually did when he

returned to consciousness. He glanced at the bedside

table, hoping to find the plastic pitcher that was

usually standard equipment.

“Sorry, Mulder. Your stomach has to get a little

better before you can have anything to eat or drink.

You had surgery to repair the deepest lacerations,

but you should be able to return to your regular,

disgusting diet as soon as they’ve healed.”

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I had to shoot him when he advanced on

me, but he didn’t touch me.”

Mulder was relieved that she wasn’t injured, but he

knew that she would agonize over killing the

assailant. He reached for her hand and squeezed it

gently.

“So, how are you feeling? Are you having much pain?”

“Some,” he answered as he tried to find a more

comfortable position.

Suddenly, he gasped and froze, his face contorted in

pain. “Oh, shit!”

“Mulder, what is it?” Scully asked, springing to her

feet in alarm.

“Hurts!” he managed to answer through gritted teeth.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later that afternoon, Mulder was back in his room

after a series of exams, x-rays and consultations.

He was resting on his left side, wondering how he

always managed to get hurt without putting any effort

into it. He sighed loudly, causing Scully to look up

from her magazine. “Welcome back partner. You kind

of gave me a scare.”

“What happened?”

“After you passed out from the pain, the doctor

ordered a very thorough examination and various

scans. The best we were able to figure, your tumble

at the haunted house and your subsequent fall when

you were slashed caused a fracture to your tailbone.

Since you were unconscious until this morning you

were unable to tell us that there was a problem.”

Mulder groaned.

“I’m sorry. You’ll be pretty miserable until it

heals.”

“I guess I’ll live up to Skinner’s pet name for me,”

he deadpanned. “A real pain in the ass.”

“Well, maybe this will help.” Scully grinned as she

presented him with an inflatable ring.

Mulder snorted in disgust.

“Since you’ll be tied to your desk for a while,

you’ll be able to work rings around everyone else.”

Mulder groaned again, more a reaction to the bad pun

than physical pain.

“Next year, Mulder, why don’t we just stay at home

and hand out a few pieces of candy? I can fix some

cider, we can make popcorn balls and watch a scary

movie.”

“You have a deal.” He reached for her hand and gave

it a squeeze. “As long as we don’t watch ‘Nightmare

On Elm Street’.”

Scully squeezed back and leaned over, pushing back

the lock of hair that always seemed to fall across

his fore head. “But I haven’t forgotten. You still

owe me a dinner whenever you can sit comfortably.”

Mulder smiled and closed his eyes. Even though he

lost the bet, he felt he had come out ahead with the

promise of Scully in his life for another year.

Sometimes losing was worth it.

End