Encounter with the Undead
By Mary Kleinsmith (Buc252@aol.com)
Rating: PG
Category: Halloween Challenge. Written for VS10 Halloween
Special event
Keywords: MSR, Angst, a touch of MT
Spoilers: Bad Blood
Archive: Two weeks exclusively on VS9, then ATF, Ephemeral
and anywhere else. Just keep my name attached.
Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully and all the others belong to
Chris Carter, 1013 and Fox. No copyright infringement
intended.
Summary: An acquaintance from the past comes back to haunt
Mulder and threaten his happiness with Scully. (No, it’s
not a ghost!)
Feedback: It would be much appreciated!
Authors’ Notes: I chose, for personal reasons, not to
participate in a full story in this year’s VS10, despite
having a good experience last year with Dreamweaver. It was
not an easy decision, or entered into lightly, but for the
non-authors out there, I can tell you that writing a VS
episode is not nearly as easy as you might think. I’d
decided that, for this year at least, I’d be on the
sidelines. And then Vickie asked me about the Halloween
Special. During our chat, an idea – this idea – bloomed,
and when Susan added her voice to Vickie’s, I finally
decided that this is what I was meant to do. So here it is,
folks. I hope you like it!
Encounter with the Undead
By Mary Kleinsmith (Buc252@aol.com)
It never failed. The worst case in the world, taking place
during the worst week of his life . . . and now he had to
look forward to answering the door all night, giving candy
to kids he didn’t know. Kids who could be his own . . . if
he’d just get off his ass and marry Scully. It didn’t
matter that she couldn’t birth them herself; if they
couldn’t have them, they could adopt them. But they’d be
THEIRS.
Okay, this is too depressing. The big X-File had ended in a
foot chase through a garbage dump, and ended in his
tackling the very human, very normal suspect in the biggest
pile of waste he’d ever seen. Heck, anybody had ever seen.
He was disgusting, stinking so bad he didn’t dare sit down
on the sofa to rest his tired muscles without cleaning up
first.
Ahhhh, cleaning up. A hot shower . . . real soap, not those
horridly tiny little bars motel rooms gave you . . . a
shower head that sprayed OVER his head instead of into his
neck. It sounded like heaven.
He wasn’t sure if his suit was salvageable, but he’d give
the dry cleaners a chance, he thought as he shed each piece
and deposited them into a garbage bag. At least, if they
failed, it was ready for disposal. This job cost him so
much money sometimes.
Climbing into the shower, he wondered what Scully had
planned for tonight. She’d made it clear that there was no
way she was staying at the office past quitting time. Maybe
it had been the smell. . . or maybe it was because she was
tired of doing reports.
Or maybe, she had something to do – without him, his inner
voice of self-doubt popped up. It rarely did anymore, but
every once in awhile, he wondered how he could ever have
gotten so lucky.
Lathering his shampoo into a thick foam, he scrubbed his
hair, doing his best to scrub all thought from his head.
There was too much up there. It only helped partly, but he
felt a level of peacefulness as he stood under the shower
head once again to rinse.
He nearly lost his balance, so lulled by the shower was he,
when his cell phone rang. He’d set it on the vanity, as was
his habit; Scully had been right when she said that he
couldn’t do without the thing, but perhaps was not aware of
the full truth. He couldn’t do without it simply because
it was his connection to her – and she was something else
he absolutely could not do without.
Shaking the water from his hair and trying to tell himself
he wasn’t acting like a Retriever, he stepped from the
shower in time to grab the phone before it clicked to voice
mail.
“Mulder.”
“Agent Mulder, there’s something you need to see. Come to
354 Genesee Street in Georgetown, the Bourbon Street Club.”
“Who is this?” Mulder asked. The voice didn’t sound
familiar; it was a stranger or disguised in some way, he
deduced.
“Just someone looking out for your best interests. Come,
and hurry.”
There was a click as the line disconnected before he could
get another word in edgewise.
Now he was faced with a dilemma. Follow the instructions,
or stay home. It could be important, but it also could be a
trap, or, worse, a complete waste of time. A Halloween
practical joke. But since the alternative was to stay home,
trying to explain to the neighbor kids who knocked on the
door that he hadn’t bought enough – okay, any really –
treats to go around because he’d been chasing after little
gray men. A story like that might actually make them forget
about candy, he thought.
Dressing quickly, he chose to forego his regular gun and
holster, which would be too conspicuous on his jeans, but
strapped on his ankle holster and smaller gun. He doubted
he’d need it, but he wanted to feel like he had some kind
of back up.
Backup. Maybe he should call Scully. If he got himself hurt
again because he’d failed to tell her what he was doing,
she’d be pissed as hell with him. She’d been pretty clear
that she had plans, but called her apartment anyway,
getting the answering machine and leaving a message as to
where he was going and why. If he disappeared, at least
she’d know in the morning a bit of what had happened. A
place to start, so to speak.
Grabbing his keys, he made sure the door was locked before
sprinting to his car. He knew where Genesee Street was – it
wasn’t that far from Scully’s place – but he was unfamiliar
with club itself. He wondered if it would have a New
Orleans flavor, given the name, and what kind of music
they’d play.
Finding a parking space was easier than he expected, but
maybe club hopping wasn’t something people did on
Halloween. For a psychologist, he realized he was out of
touch with the human condition on the socialization issues
of the current day. Scully could probably tell him –
she was much more socially adept than he was and he knew
it. It was why they made a great team; what one was
lacking, the other supplied.
There was a cover charge, and Mulder paid it before
slipping into the club and taking a seat at an empty table.
He wasn’t sure what to expect; whether the person who
called would approach him, whether the thing he was
supposed to see would be obvious, or if he’d have to go
looking for it. A waitress with an immodest amount of
cleavage showing approached and took his order. He opted
for soda, wanting to keep a clear head until he knew what
was going on.
Batting her eyes at him, she went off to fetch his drink,
and he took the opportunity to scan the room. A few people
sat at the bar, mostly singles although one or two couples
were also there. They appeared to have only one goal for
the night, and that was to lose themselves in the oblivion
of alcohol. Away from the bar, couples occupied tables
surrounding a small dance floor, most appearing to have not
dancing on their minds, but copulation. They kissed and
touched in a way that would be a borderline arrestible
offense if they were outside.
On the dance floor, a very few couples moved to a slow,
steady rhythm from a source he couldn’t identify, seeming
to be trying to get so close that they inhabited the same
space. Most were dressed in casual clothes, jeans, oxford
shirts, nothing that would make them stand out in a
crowd. Then, his eyes were drawn to a couple, her red hair
standing out in stark contrast to the rest of the room and
his face buried against her neck. Their bodies were barely
moving, but necks and heads moved, nuzzled, stretched. And
the feminine form looked familiar . . .
Mulder gasped as he realized this was what he was there to
see. It was Scully, with another man. He felt a surge of
jealousy towards the man with whom she was dancing. He had
prior claim on her, he thought angrily. As if beckoned by
Mulder’s own thoughts, the man raised his brunet head from
her neck to meet his eyes. Glowing yellowish green, they
reached out to him, and he realized that this was no
stranger.
The man whispered in Scully’s ear, and they turned as one
to approach his table.
“Mulder, what are you doing here?” she asked, but he almost
missed it. He was distracted by her – or more pointedly, by
the fact that there was blood on her neck.
“Can’t . . . can’t a guy . . . umm . . . have a drink
anymore?” he responded, and realized that he had little
excuse. Still, finding her here, with him, was more than a
little disturbing.
“Of course, Agent Mulder,” came in a thick Texan accent
through buck teeth. “It’s just one doozy of a coincidence.”
“Of course, Sheriff Hartwell,” Mulder agreed, trying to
figure what his next move should be. When Hartwell nodded
his own agreement, there was blood on his neck as well.
Scully and Mulder exchanged a look that both understood,
and Scully turned to Hartwell.
“Would you get me another drink?” she asked her ‘date’ with
a lascivious grin. “Something with alcohol this time, I
think.” And she winked at him. She actually winked at him!
Hartwell nodded and went on his way, leaving them alone.
Mulder wasn’t going to waste the little time he knew
they had.
“Scully, what the hell are you doing with him? You know
what he is!”
“Yes, I know what he is. He’s a kind, gallant man who
treats me with courtesy and respect. Anything else is just
small potatoes.”
“But, Scully . . .”
“I was going to wait until tomorrow to tell you, Mulder,
but I’ll be tendering my resignation. Lucius has asked me
to go back to Texas with him, and I’ve said yes.”
“Scully, you can’t!” Mulder said pleadingly. This couldn’t
be happening, but it was.
“He gives me everything I need, Mulder. Can’t you
understand that?”
“Oh, and does that include this?” he snapped, standing to
pull the collar away from her neck where the red liquid was
still wet.
“Yes, I give him what he needs, too. It’s a wonderful
relationship.”
“And what does he give you, Scully? I can give you all
that, all you had to do was ask. I’d have done it all.”
“I doubt you really know what you’re saying, Mulder,” she
grinned.
“Yes, I do. Did you let him do it? Has he made you like
them?”
“Does it matter?” she asked.
“Yes, it matters. Of course it matters.”
“No, it doesn’t. Because if he didn’t, then I’m going of my
own free will, and if he did, then I’m going to be with my
own kind. Either way, you have to face it. You can’t stop
me.”
Just then, Hartwell returned with three glasses of blood-
red wine. At least, he hoped it was wine. Handing one to
Scully, then to Mulder, he slipped the freed hand around
her waist.
“How about I propose a toast. To our lives. May we all have
a glorious future.” Scully and Hartwell clinked their
glasses intimately before turning to Mulder.
“I’m sorry if I don’t see anything to be so happy about,”
he said grimly.
“Then come with us,” Scully said unexpectedly, and both men
looked at her, startled. “You can be happy there, Mulder.
They can make it better for you.”
“But what about the X-Files? My sister? Our work?”
“We can . . . they can . . . help you to forget. You can be
happy.”
“Scully, I’ll never be happy. Either here or in Texas, as
long as I have to know that you’re with him.” His voice
dripped venom on the pronoun.
“He’s a good man, Mulder.”
“I’d beg to differ, but that’s not the point. It’s not that
you’re with him,” Mulder said in anger and desperation.
“It’s that you’re not with ME! I thought that we had
something together.”
“And we can have it again, it’ll just be a little
different. Did you know that Lucius’s people don’t practice
monogamy? You can still have me.”
“But he would have you, too. No, I don’t think so,” he
gritted through clenched teeth.
“Well,” she said, setting down her wine glass. “If you
change your mind, you just have to say the word.”
“I won’t. I have at LEAST that much self respect.”
“That’s your loss,” she said sadly. “We need to go. Lucius
only feels comfortable in the city on Halloween. We need to
be out of town by midnight. A van will be moving my
apartment. If there’s anything of yours left there, just
let them know – I’ve told them to give you carte blanche to
take whatever you want. I’d planned to call you in the
morning, but I’m actually glad it happened this way. You
need to understand that this is what I want. Goodbye,
Mulder. I will miss you, but I can’t let that change my
mind.”
She turned to go, Hartwell taking up his place beside her.
They moved quickly, and were almost to the door when he
realized she really was leaving. And not just leaving . . .
leaving to become one of the famed undead, if she wasn’t
already.
“Scully, no! Don’t go!” He stood, beginning to go after
her, but finding himself impeded by a sudden crowd.
“Scully, I love you! You can’t leave me!”
The crowd pushed in on him, crushed him until he couldn’t
move or breath. And then the darkness closed in on him. For
just a moment, he wondered if those around him were of the
‘clan’ as well, and if they’d change him into one of them,
but then the blackness took over entirely.
**
When he woke up, it was to the sound of an engine humming.
He realized that he was lying on the back seat of a car,
with a familiar brunet head in the driver’s seat.
“What the hell is going on, Hartwell?” he asked angrily. He
noticed now that his hands were tied securely behind his
back, and they’d fallen asleep from the lack of
circulation.
“We’re going to Texas, Agent Mulder. I know you said you
didn’t want to go, but, you see, I’ve promised Dana to do
whatever it takes to make her happy, and that means you.
She can’t be happy without you, so we’re all going home.”
He laughed, a bitter sound he’d never before heard from
the Sheriff. “Can’t say I’m crazy about the idea myself,
but I’m gonna give Dana what she wants.”
“You can’t force me to stay against my will. I’ll escape
eventually.”
“We don’t have to keep you forever. Just until you can be
brought over. Like Dana, you’ll come around as soon as
you’ve undergone the change. Then we’ll settle in like one
big happy family.”
“I’ll be missed.”
“Please, Agent Mulder. I know at least enough about you to
know otherwise. The only person who’d miss you is Dana.
Your boss, maybe, but Dana will give him an appropriate
excuse along with your resignation. You’ll be happy to be
with us soon enough.”
“So you’re just going to change me. I don’t get any say in
the matter.”
“I’m afraid so. See, I want Dana, and she wants you. It’s
the only way I get to keep her.”
“She’s not a possession, you idiot. She’s a woman, with her
own life and her own choices.”
“And she’s choosing to go, too. You may as well accept at
least that.” His confrontational tone turned
conversational. “You should actually feel quite honored,
Agent Mulder. Halloween night is the only day of the year
that we can change a human into one of our own, despite all
the movies and legends.”
“So why haven’t I been changed yet?”
“Only someone of the opposite sex can change another. Dana
will do you, but she doesn’t quite know you’re coming yet.”
“I’m a surprise?!”
“You could say that. She’s going to be so happy to see you.
We really did try leaving you behind, but she was
inconsolable.” He frowned at Mulder’s laugh. “Even vampires
have feelings, Agent Mulder.”
“Forgive me if I’m having my doubts. So you changed her?”
“Oh, that was done well before we ran into you tonight. I
was lucky – caught her on her way home from the office. She
knew we were meant to be together.”
“The two of you, or the three of us?” he asked bitterly.
“Believe me, sharing Dana was not my first choice either.
But I’d rather have part of her than none of her. How about
you, Agent Mulder? How important is she to you?”
“She’s everything to me. But she’s not who she was. She’s
not my Scully anymore. You’ve turned her into something
else.”
“She is different, that’s true. But I still somehow find it
hard to believe that you won’t gladly come to her when she
calls. You won’t be able to say no, any more than she was
able to say no to me.”
“So we’re all going to settle down and be one happy family?
You’ve got to be kidding me. . .”
“There is no kidding here, Mulder. I’m deadly serious,”
Hartwell said, concentrating his eyes back on the road.
“Dana’s gone ahead to secure a place for us – me and her,
she thinks – at our new camp.”
“Where are we going?”
“I think I’m going to wait to tell you that until you’ve
had a . . . change of heart. It’s coming, and the sooner
you can accept that, the better. Now you may as well rest
up. It may be the last chance you get,” he laughed.
With those words, the blackness swarmed in again over
Mulder, and he felt himself drifting. Did Hartwell do it,
or was his own body betraying him? He wasn’t sure, but
didn’t get to dwell on it long before oblivion claimed him.
**
He awoke again in what appeared to be a large barn. Nothing
fancy, no livestock or hay bales, it appeared to be more of
a meeting place. As if to confirm this, his attention was
drawn to a looming figure above him. It wasn’t
exceptionally tall, he didn’t think, but the impression
came from the fact, he realized, that he was lying on the
floor. Above him, the man was speaking.
“Friends, brethren, we gather here today to greet two new
members of our society, and to witness the bringing over of
one of them.”
Mulder looked in the direction Hartwell faced to see a
crowd gathered there, all of them with glowing, green eyes.
The undead, a voice in his head told him. Pinching himself,
he tried to awaken from the nightmare, but it seemed this
was only too real.
Then he saw her, coming through the crowd toward him, her
eyes glowing as green as any of the others. It was so
distracting that he wasn’t hearing what Hartwell was saying
about her. He watched as she stepped on the slightly raised
platform on which he now realized he was lying and took the
Sheriff’s hand, their fingers interlacing. Mulder only
heard the last thing he said.
“Former enemies are now friends. Let’s all welcome Dana,”
and he turned to look at Mulder, “and Fox. Let us all
celebrate, and at five minutes before the witching hour, we
will gather again to watch as Dana makes Fox one of our
own.”
Unlikely cheers went up all around, and suddenly there was
music. This was not happening, Mulder told himself again.
Not only was he going to be turned into one of the undead,
now he wasn’t even going to get to enjoy the party. He
wasn’t stupid – he knew there was no way he’d get the
chance to escape. They’d keep him tied up, right where he
was, until the time came.
Would it really be so bad, though? He thought
philosophically. It could be a lot worse than spending
eternity with Scully . . .
He had a crude awakening. “And him,” he whispered, watching
Scully and Hartwell dancing so close, they were practically
in the same skin.
The dancing grew faster, more erotic, and the entire
company seemed to be lost in a carnal haze. The room began
to spin, his blurry vision showing him a vague picture of
Scully, sandwiched between the wall and Hartwell’s grinding
hips. He wanted to run, to move, to stop them . . .
Anything, but lie here on the floor waiting for the end of
the last day of his life. Because despite what Sheriff
Hartwell said, he couldn’t believe that he would be the
same person once Scully did to him what had been done to
her.
I mean, would the REAL Scully do what she was doing now?
And if she did, wouldn’t she do it with me?
It was his last thought as he drifted off once again.
The next thing of which he was aware was something pressing
against his lips. Something soft, and pliable. Something
not warm, and it felt unnatural.
He opened his eyes to find them affixed to a pair of
glowing green ones that somehow should have been blue. A
deep, resonating voice, yet familiar, spoke inside his
head.
“It’s our time, Mulder. Everybody is gathered.”
“Gathered?”
“Yes. Men are brought into the clan in front of its
members,” she said in a deep, eerie voice. “And once it’s
done, you,” she kisses me, unbelievably, on the lips, “and
I,” another kiss, “and Lucius can all go home.” I know she
sees my thoughts in my eyes, or maybe she’s reading my
mind. “No, not Washington. The home we will share.
Together. Forever.”
He hears he crowd pressing in, their footsteps shuffling
closer, but his eyes are mesmerized by hers and he can’t
look away. Her face draws closer, and just when he thinks
she’s going to kiss him again, her mouth takes a detour. To
his neck.
He shivers, expecting to feel the piercing of teeth, and
then it occurs to him. These vampires don’t have fangs –
how does she intend to . . .
There’s a fine, sliding sensation a fraction of a second
before the pain kicks in. Dammit, she actually cut me with
something, he realizes. He feels a solid wetness, her
tongue, slide over the slice before her lips settle around
it.
“Scully, don’t do this,” he whispers, surprising himself
that he’s not shouting it at the top of his lungs. She
doesn’t move away, and the pressure becomes stronger as he
become more fearful. Finally, he finds his voice.
“Scully, stop!” But she begins to suck, and he’s helpless
to stop her.
“SCULLY! STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
**
“Mulder. Sweetheart, are you okay?”
Before he opened his eyes, he knew it was her voice. She’d
come back to him! Or they’d taken him to her. He tried to
raise the lids, but they didn’t seem to want to cooperate.
“Mulder, c’mon. Wake up and show me you’re okay.”
Finally, he was able to focus on her face. It was scrubbed
clean, all traces of the dark makeup she’d worn at the club
removed, and her hair was pulled up into a neat ponytail.
“You came back,” he whispered as he blinked slowly. “Thank
God.”
“I just went home, Mulder,” she said, taking his hand in
her own. “I guess I didn’t realize you needed a chaperone.
Can you get up?”
Looking around, he realized several things at once. He was
home, he was in his shower, his head was killing him . . .
and he was naked. Not that she hadn’t seen it before lots
of times, but . . .
“Scully, what happened?” he asked as she pulled him to his
feet. He followed meekly. “You said you were leaving me.
Please tell me you changed your mind!” His head was still a
bit foggy, but he remembered that part clearly.
“Mulder, I only went as far as my apartment, and I never
said I was leaving you. I’ll NEVER leave you, my love.” She
settled his wet body on the bed, uncaring that the blanket
was getting soaked. “As for what happened, I was at home,
getting ready for the trick-or-treaters when your neighbor,
Mrs. Lopez, called. She said she heard a bang from inside
your apartment, but you wouldn’t come to the door, so she
worried you were in trouble. I came right over, and just as
I got inside, I heard you screaming for me.”
“I screamed for you . . .” Mulder said, dazedly.
“Yes. You were begging me not to go, and you said you loved
me.”
“Well, I do.”
“I know, and I love you, too. I think it’s pretty simple to
figure out what happened. You fell in the shower, hit your
head, and ended up having some kind of traumatic nightmare.
What did you dream, Mulder?”
He shivered a little, unsure of whether it was the cold on
his bare skin or the memories that were causing it. “You
were quitting. Leaving to go back to Texas with Sheriff
Hartwell. He was turning you into one of them, Scully.” The
fear was back in his voice. “You said he could give you all
the things I couldn’t.”
“He could never give me what you do, Mulder,” she said as
she gently dried his hair with a towel. “And, for the
record, I haven’t thought of him once since we resolved
that case. There’s no need to be jealous.”
Suddenly, Mulder was offended. “I wasn’t jealous. I just .
. .” She raised an eyebrow at him, and he realized,
happily, that there was no denying it. “Okay, so I was
jealous. Thank God it was just a dream.”
“You must have conked yourself good,” Scully said, feeling
the lump on his head. “I’ll tell you what. Pack a bag with
your best Halloween-ish videos, because you’re spending the
night at my place. We’ll greet trick-or-treaters, watch
scary movies and pop popcorn. Then, later on, if you’re
feeling better, I’ll show you a few tricks of my own.” She
grinned at him wickedly, and he felt his heart race, the
blood rushing through his body.
“Mmmm . . .” he mumbled, leaning his head into her hands.
“Sounds good.”
“Okay, then. Get some clothes on and we’re out of here.”
~~~~
end
Virtual Season X 