Hidden Reflections (1/4) by Penny Evans Feedback: evans_p17@sky.com Rating: R for violence, sexual images and language. Category: Post XF: I Want To Believe / Stand alone horror. Pairing: MSR Spoilers: IWTB / The End / Red Museum / Paper Clip / The Truth/ The Field Where I Died Disclaimer: All X File characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox. 'Kokomo' lyrics by John Phillips, Scott McKenzie, Mike Love and Terry Melcher of the Beach Boys. No copyright infringement intended and no profit is being made. Originally written for the XF Big Bang Challenge 2009 Acknowledgments: XF: I Want To Believe novel by Max Allan Collins. Horror Stories: Scary For Kids http://www.scaryforkids.com/horror stories/http://www.scaryforkids.com/kuchisake-onna/ Wikipedia the free encyclopaedia, including http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cardiovascular_disease Adult Stem Cell Therapy http://vescell.com/ /Yahoo! Health. Com Neuro Spine Surgery https://vic.pvhs.org/portal/page?_pageid=333,401484&_dad =portal&_schema=PORTAL&pagid=78 Physician's Assistant http://www.paworld.net/whatpadoes.htm / http://www.anspa.org/ Japanese phrases - http://japanese.about.com/library/ blsjp.htm Google Maps of Richmond area. Gorgeous Penthouse Condos, Richmond, USA http://richmond.craigslist.org/apa/1315887317.html Edgar Allen Poe Museum - http://www.poemuseum.org/index.html Bar & Grill in Richmond, Virginia http://www.buffalowildwings.com/ Richmond Times Dispatch http://www2.timesdispatch.com/ BIG thanks to my editor Debbie in the USA. Don't know what I'd have done without you! Feedback: Much appreciated. Email me at- evans_p17@sky.com Summary: After helping the FBI solve a case in Virginia, Scully continues her work as a doctor whilst Mulder remains unemployed. After searching the Internet, he comes across a number of closed cases dating back to the 60's, involving Asian women who all died in front of mirrors. He is immediately drawn to them believing the paranormal was involved. Meanwhile, at the hospital Scully takes on a new physician's assistant, who is a Japanese cousin of a work colleague of hers. One day, Mulder meets this young lady, and she is instantly attracted to him. However she harbours a terrible secret, and he discovers a connection to her in ways he could never even have conceived. What follows is a tale of innocence, hidden passions, deceitful lies that hide the truth, plenty of angst and brutal bloody murders. And to top it all the year 2012 is still looming in the distance. NB: This tale of mine was loosely based on a Japanese legend known as The Slit-Mouth Woman. don't turn away don't give in to the pain don't try to hide though they're screaming your name don't close your eyes God knows what lies behind them don't turn out the light never sleep never die fallen angels at my feet whispered voices at my ear death before my eyes lying next to me i fear she beckons me shall i give in upon my end shall i begin forsaking all i've fallen for i rise to meet the end WHISPER by EVANESENCE PART 1 ------ 14th Century Japan She knew she was beautiful. As she glanced in the mirror her reflection captured everything that portrayed the serene dark- haired woman, with a face so like porcelain it seemed to shimmer giving her an aura of pure light. With a careful, steady hand she brushed her ebony locks, gazing into the mirror so deeply she felt she might be able to drown herself in her own image, lose her very essence and melt away into another existence, another life. She and the man she shared her heart with would then be free like birds, their souls able to soar into the clear blue skies, unchained and unafraid. A sudden movement from behind her caused the woman to look away only for a brief second, long enough to realise he was standing, almost towering over her like a malevolent shadow that would cover her world with darkness and destroy her chances of living in the sunlight ever again. A silver gleam of cold steel flashed before her eyes as she turned to face her husband, a samurai warrior of great strength and agility. He had entered her life without any warning and her heart had opened itself up like a delicate lotus flower to this powerful man. Believing he would be her protector, someone who would love her for all of eternity, he had ended up tearing her soul to shreds like a raging tiger devouring it's prey. The kiss as before was passionate but forceful as he held her fiercely in his grasp. Tears flowed down her face, turning crimson red as the blade sliced into her delicate features. Its swift movement ripped open her ruby lips, and she screamed! "Yokumo maa!" he yelled in contempt, a tidal wave of jealous rage threatening to consume him in its wake. "How could you?" He repeated the words over and over almost believing she would give him an answer. As he held her blood soaked body close to him she just shivered in his arms, a soft moan escaping from her now grotesquely disfigured features. For a second his heart wrenched from deep inside and regret tried to overpower him. But then he remembered her betrayal and his hatred grew stronger. "No!" he cried out, like a wounded animal. Pushing her to the ground he raised his sword and struck the final blow, severing her head from her shoulders. "Mou jikan yo," he whispered, closing his eyes as if in prayer. "Your time is over Kuchisake." ------------------------------------------------------------- Virginia, USA. February 15th 2009 He glanced at the clock on the wall which revealed it was only 10.15 a.m. and sighed. Time just seemed to pass so slowly lately. How long had it been now since the FBI had called on him to help solve that modern-day Frankenstein case involving the disappearance of a group of women including an FBI agent which had resulted in the death of another female agent, and almost cost him dearly? Way too long, but during that time Fox Mulder had never felt so alive. Being thrown into a life- threatening situation wasn't what most people would wish for and it wasn't that he enjoyed that aspect of it either. The adrenalin rush he received pursuing a case, especially one with paranormal overtones, was something he knew he could never escape. Just like a drug addict needing his next fix, he desperately craved the buzz it always gave him, no matter how dangerous it would turn out to be. Then there was the other part of him that needed to help save people from the big bad evil in the world because it made him feel useful and worth something, more so for himself. He'd always had this embedded feeling of low self-esteem, perhaps because of the unstable family life in which he'd been raised. Whatever the reason, he knew he had a special insight into solving supernatural cases. It was his raison d'etre, his reason for existing. Sitting in the small converted bedroom he'd made into his private study in their secluded, single-story, rural home in Virginia, Mulder sighed heavily as his fingers flew over the keyboard of the laptop computer on his desk. He had bought this place in the middle of nowhere when he and Scully had at first been on the run from the FBI, long before she had become the qualified neurosurgeon she was now. But since helping to solve that Frankenstein case, the Washington Bureau had dropped all their so-called charges and promised him he could live his life a free man, so long as he promised to stay out of their way. He remembered the moment when Special Agent Mosley Drummy had reluctantly thanked him for the help, yet clearly had continued to show disdain on his part. Mulder knew the guy secretly blamed him for the death of his partner, Dakota Whitney, after the Russian immigrant had pushed her down a lift shaft. He'd been the only other person who had been with her at the time and should have been looking out for her. The fact he could have done nothing to prevent it just didn't seem to register with Drummy. The man had hated him ever since he'd introduced himself and nothing was going to change that. With a heavy heart Mulder had reluctantly made the deal with the Bureau because he knew the things he'd been accused of in the distant past had been nothing but lies. They knew it too, but held all the cards against him. So they'd got what they wanted, destroyed his X Files, his life's work, claiming it had been nothing more than a stupid obsession of his. And now he was out of their hair, for the time being anyhow. Mulder was frustrated because in the back of his mind he knew there would come a day when the FBI would want him back on board, in the year 2012, December 22nd to be precise. The date of the final alien invasion would procure his return to the bureau and then they would have to admit how wrongly they had treated him. Of course, then he'd have to play the part of the hero who would be expected to save the world and in all likely hood would probably die trying. Until that fateful time arose though, he felt he would remain stuck in this god- forsaken place, becoming a permanent fixture, going nowhere, just standing still like a stagnant pond that had been left untouched for years, melding into the foundations till there would be nothing left but an empty shell of the man he used to be. At least he still had the inheritance left for him by his parents so he didn't have to completely rely on Dana Scully for money to survive. He'd convinced her that he needed to keep lying low, as he was sure there were still certain people out there after his hide. Whether or not he was simply just letting paranoia rear its ugly head remained to be seen, but he thanked the heavens he wasn't relying on her doctor's wages to see him through. That would have sickened him! The only thing that gave him any real meaning in this sorry excuse for an existence was having his strong-willed and beautiful partner beside him. Some semblance of luck must have finally decided to descend upon them both because they had managed to escape to a tropical paradise together, away from the darkness, well at least for a while at any rate. Mulder smiled to himself. It had been like a dream, lost in some parallel existence, a fairytale where only good things happened to decent people, so unlike the reality he had faced every waking day of his life. A Beach Boys song formed in his mind and he began to sing the tune softly to himself whilst he carried on searching the Internet. He was glad there was no one around to hear him right there and then for he knew he couldn't carry a tune and usually restricted such pastimes during moments of solitude, in the car or shower. 'Off the Florida Keys, there's a place called Kokomo That's where you wanna go to get away from it all Bodies in the sand, tropical drink melting in your hand We'll be falling in love to the rhythm of a steel drum band Down in Kokomo' The laptop suddenly decided to freeze. "Oh shit!" he exclaimed loudly. Giving it a hard thump with his fist he yelled, "Just fucking typical!" Get yourself in a positive state of mind, Mulder, and fate throws you a negative curve ball once again!" Sighing heavily he switched it off and started it up again. No luck. However, after a second attempt it whirred back to life, much to his relief. It would be hours before Scully would come home from the hospital so if the computer had died on him then he would have probably gone stir crazy. This was his favourite way of passing the time. Then the hours seemed to go quicker, at least in theory. Clicking on the Internet Explorer icon, it was only a few moments before he was back in cyberspace where he returned to the web page he'd been browsing, all about the so-called real X Files documents that had been released by the government to the public in the United Kingdom. With a shake of his head he rolled his eyes skyward, snorted, then carried on reading. Shame these folks weren't aware that this was all just another well planned cover story to hide the true facts about extra terrestrials, a truth he sadly knew all too well now. Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind he pictured silhouettes of swaying palm trees, whilst he and the woman he loved more than life itself, had made love in each others arms, their naked bodies writhing in ecstasy upon warm golden sands. He could almost hear the waves lapping against the shore as the ocean glittered under a full moon and his imagination started playing the song once more. 'We'll put out to sea and we'll perfect our chemistry By and by we'll defy a little bit of gravity Afternoon delight, cocktails and moonlit nights That dreamy look in your eye, gives me a tropical contact high Way down in Kokomo' As crystal clear images continued to play over and over in his photographic memory, as if almost in a trance he continued to move the cursor over the screen, clicking on various links which led him through page after page without really concentrating on what he was looking at. Moments later he realised he was staring at a particularly gruesome picture which suddenly snapped him out of his dream-like state of mind. It was of a young woman's body on a carpeted floor in a bathroom of a house. Her throat had been cut, almost severing her head from her neck, and she was lying in a large pool of blood. Mulder read some typing underneath the macabre image and realised it was a crime scene photo that had originally been taken by a police officer in Washington DC as part of an ongoing FBI investigation. Although now someone had copied and downloaded it to a site called? He checked the website's title, which stood out in bold brash capitals. MURDER MYSTERIES IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Below this in red lettering it read, Check out real footage of gruesome murders in glorious Technicolor. Skimming briefly through the rest of the detailed account, Mulder frowned. In the past he had been subjected to so much horror whilst dealing with X File cases it had become a routine occurrence to view such appalling scenes, but he had always felt deep emotion for the victims and sometimes had even cried over them. Nowadays, it just seemed people were getting sicker every day and sadly had become immune to human suffering. Ignoring a couple of videos this website also boasted it had, which he really didn't wish to see, his eyes reverted back to the dead girl. He couldn't understand why it was affecting him this way as he'd seen plenty of crime photos before, but for some reason he found himself drawn to this particular victim. For one she had been very beautiful, of Asian descent with a light primrose skin tone and long ebony hair. An old class photo out of her school yearbook revealed this to him, although he could still see those delicate features amidst all the horrific details. If it wasn't for the deep sanguineous gash across her throat he could have said she looked like she was just sleeping. How could anyone have ended her life this way, and how come he was now itching to find out why? Mulder knew there was no way in a million years the Washington Field Office would happily hand out any information to him but there were other ways he could find out more about this murder and all he required was the aid of his computer. In earnest he began pressing keys until the familiar government logo appeared on the screen, then entered the code he still had from memory thanks to his old and dearly departed friends, John Byers, Ringo Langly and Melvyn Frohicke. The Lone Gunmen. They had shown him how to hack into the FBI database whilst he'd still been an agent working for the Bureau. It was just for the hell of it at the time, as he already had access to all the files and information he required. How things had changed. A lump formed in his throat as he remembered how the guys had lost their lives when they'd been involved in yet another futile attempt to try and stop the government from using everyday folk as guinea pigs, once again involving alien technology. 'Been there, done that,' he thought sadly to himself, as he typed in the password. It took him a few hours before he finally came across the file he was searching for. It revealed several more crime scene photos of the Asian woman he'd first seen. This in turn led to similar cases, which he read through thoroughly, and slowly the pieces started to fit like a jigsaw puzzle. It seemed there had been a string of horrific deaths of young, ethnic women, ages ranging from mid to late 20's and dating as far back as the 1960's. All had been discovered in front of mirrors in their bathrooms, bedrooms or living rooms, covered in blood, some with their throats slit and some with their eyes gouged out! The coroner's reports suggested suicides for most of these incidents, as a pair of scissors had been found at the scene in one house, a knife in another, a razor blade, a poker, and other various items that could have substituted as weapons, all with the women's fingerprints on them. However, there were several that weren't accounted for but had been either carelessly or deliberately overlooked. These showed women with their eyes still intact, but they had been bleeding profusely. The loss of so much blood had been attributed to causing their deaths. His mind suddenly revved into gear as he remembered reading a number of old paranormal cases where the victims had died in front of a mirror. The majority of those cases had been written off as suicides and the investigations had been closed but Mulder knew now why he'd been led to discovering the deaths of these young ladies. It was clear to him that these should have been pursued as paranormal cases but now there was no longer even an X Files office in the FBI building, and no one in the Bureau who was qualified to pursue this line of inquiry. Further more, it made him angry that they had never given him any of these assignments whilst he'd been working for them. Well, he still had the unique insight in helping solve cases like these and that was something those bastards couldn't take away from him! Letting his fingers fly over the keyboard, his breathing quickened as he realised what he was searching for. After discovering several links which led to a children's website on myths and folklore, he clicked on an icon of a ghostly silhouette of a Japanese woman staring out of a mirror and another website popped up in a little box. After maximising the page he read the title out loud. "Bloody Mary. A myth based on a true story." ---------------------------------------------------------- Our Lady Of Sorrows Hospital, Richmond, Virginia Contrary to her partner, Dana Katherine Scully was finding there just weren't enough hours in the day. In fact she was the busiest she had ever been since becoming a medical doctor at the Catholic hospital after completing her residency in general and neurological surgery. It was a career she would have originally undertaken had it not been for that fateful choice when she decided to join the FBI. However, if she had known back then that it was going to lead her down a dark and dangerous path, she might never have taken that leap of faith. Dana was happy to have left that part of her life behind and even if the challenges of her new job didn't get any easier, she felt they were far more worthwhile. Sure, she'd stood beside her partner and been a valuable part of the team whilst pursuing those paranormal cases but looking back on those times, just exactly how many of those had she actually solved from a scientific point of view? She knew she could count the number on the fingers of one hand. Her deepest regret, though, was seeing Mulder so reluctant to give up his work on the X Files when she personally had felt so much relief. Maybe it was due to a feeling of guilt on her part that she'd persuaded him to help the FBI with that missing agent case, something he could once again get his teeth into and use those all-important skills that had been laying dormant inside him for far too long. However, she had overlooked a very important fact, which unfortunately hadn't registered at the time. Suggesting he come on board, especially with an assignment involving a possible psychic, had been like handing candy to a baby. As a result it almost cost them the relationship they'd nurtured over the years when she'd asked him to step away. She'd only done this because she was so concerned he was once again letting the darkness consume him, allowing that obsession of his to take centre stage. Her fears had been realised after he'd done something incredibly reckless, which almost resulted in him being decapitated until she had once again stepped in and rescued him. They had in fact saved each other's skins on numerous occasions in the past. But Dana knew she didn't want that life any more, so was extremely grateful when no more FBI agents had descended on her asking for Mulder's help again. Then when he'd explained to her about the deal he had made and how in return all the bogus charges against him had been dropped, again she felt a strong bout of relief. It had been incredibly unfair, but at the same time meant they could completely disappear from under the FBI's radar, and no longer be hassled. Since being on the run, it had been a nightmare having to secretly visit her partner in the hideaway he'd bought in the middle of nowhere. Over time not having the X Files to pursue had meant their relationship could blossom, as it did both emotionally and physically. So eventually when he'd finally asked her to move in with him, she'd accepted gratefully. Then after this latest reluctant involvement with the FBI, she'd begged him to take them somewhere beautiful, where they could escape from everything bad in the world. An impossible task in the long run she had thought, but persuading him to go to one of the islands off the coast of Florida was the best decision she had ever made in a long time. However, all too soon it had been over and she'd had to return to reality with a painful bump! This was her first month back in the hospital and things had reached a hectic level. Already under a heavy workload, she still found herself offering her help to a friend and colleague, a surgeon who had been thrown into a code red situation when he was required to operate on a patient who had gone into heart failure. This particular cardiac disease had caused blood clotting within the heart, resulting in a severe attack. Luckily he was able to get the person's heart beating again with the aid of a defibrillator and now further tests were being carried out but this type of disease had been known to prove fatal. Heart surgery wasn't even her department, yet she knew she could offer some assistance which might possibly save another patient and that was the most important thing. In the not so distant past, during the time when the FBI wanted her and her partner's help, Scully had been torn in two trying desperately to help a young boy with a seemingly incurable degenerative brain disease known as Sandhoff. Her fellow colleagues assured her the symptoms were untreatable and the medical board refused to offer any help, forcing her to turn to the Internet for advice. This led her to trying intercostal stem cell therapy as a last resort after receiving full permission from the boy's parents. At the time she knew she was taking a huge risk as each procedure she performed in the operating theatre put the boy through an incredible amount of suffering. To make the situation worse, there was no way she could promise a positive result. The pressure she had been under caused her to almost lose her faith, but in a strange twist of fate it had been restored by the mumblings of a paedophile ex-priest no less. After the FBI case she had taken that step and continued surgery on the boy. The angels must have been on her side because slowly he'd shown an improvement. After being subjected to the evils men were capable of with such knowledge, which led to the Frankenstein murder case, this remarkable event had given her hope once more. So, she'd continued looking into this research and discovered there were other positive ways this could be put to use. She had read that in the past in Asia, stem cell therapy had been used on patients suffering from heart failure due to cardiomyopathy, which was a disease of the heart muscle resulting in the deterioration of the function of the actual organ. She knew from her medical background this meant people with this disease were often at risk of arrhythmia, sudden cardiac death, or both. However, with the aid of transplantation it could be possible to replace the damaged cells and establish new blood vessels, which would then restore contractility and blood supply to the heart. Early test results had been extremely good and nowadays there was a revolutionary new treatment for this disease that actually rebuilt the heart tissue using the patient's own stem cells. After putting her friend, Doctor Mike Holmes, onto this amazing discovery he began the treatment almost right away. It was far too early for results yet but he had thanked her profusely and insisted on taking her out to dinner. She politely declined the invitation telling him her reward was in being able to offer her assistance, and that she would pray it would prove positive. Now as she sat at the desk in her office, pouring over a patient's x-rays, Scully thought about the kindness he had shown her, very rare in this day and age, and a tiny part of her wished she had taken him up on his offer. After all it had only been in friendship hadn't it? Having been introduced to Mark several months ago, she had made it quite clear she was in a serious relationship and he had shown her nothing but respect after that. So why had she chosen to shy away from his invitation? Well, let's face it, the man was very good looking and charming, similar to Mulder in many respects but without the paranormal obsessions to go along with it. Was there a possibility she might have let it lead to more than just a platonic involvement if she'd gone to dinner with him that day? Truth was she loved Fox Mulder with all her heart and soul, but the constant fear of returning to that darkness always loomed in the back of her mind no matter how hard she tried to keep it at bay. Would it one day pull them back under those murky waters and push then away from each other, only this time with such force that it would drive them apart forever? "Don't even consider it," she said to herself harshly. As if on cue there was a short rap on the door to her office and in walked the handsome doctor with a young lady she hadn't seen before. Both were dressed in the latest surgeon's fashion that seemed to remain timeless, green scrubs and white surgical masks, only Mark had pulled his down under his chin. "So, how is he doing?" Scully asked. She realised she'd probably asked Mark this question a fair number of times but since her prayers had been answered and now Christian Fearon was on the road to recovery, she was hoping for the same results with his patient. "Well, I performed an angioplasty, and the patient didn't suffer from another myocardial infarction. The widened artery started to restore blood flow but after further ECG scans I discovered more blood clots. The poor guy has undergone several operations over this past month then thanks to you we turned to the stem cell therapy." Mark gave her a warm smile, "He's by no means out of the woods but this does seem to be working." She gave a sigh of relief. "That's good news Mark." Then turning her attention towards the stranger in the room, she raised an eyebrow. "Ah yes. I guess I should formally introduce this young lady. Dr. Dana Scully, I would like you to meet Miss Naomi Hanako. She's a medical assistant who recently moved here from Japan. Since she's also my cousin, I arranged for her to come and work with us for a spell. That is until she gets tired of the USA and desperately wishes to return to her homeland." He gave her a wink, and she returned with a polite nod of her head. Scully came from behind her desk and walked over to the girl who at first glance she had believed to be in her mid-twenties, "It's very nice to meet you, Naomi," she said courteously. Almost as soon as she'd shook her hand she realised it was very cold to the touch. Okay, they were in the middle of February; only the interior of the hospital was always kept at a regular temperature. She also couldn't help feeling a little uneasy by her presence and why hadn't she taken off the surgical mask? The young girl bowed graciously. "It's really nice to meet you, Dr. Scully. I've heard a lot about you." "You're not in the operating theatre now. It's quite okay for you to remove the mask. I assure you there are no lethal germs in here." She realised that had come out in a rather rude fashion, and she hadn't intended to be so abrupt in her manner. But something was niggling in the back of her mind and Scully just couldn't understand why. Mark gave her a puzzled look. "Dana, no need to scare the poor girl on her first day." "I'm so sorry." Naomi sounded genuinely shaken. Tentatively, she took off the facial mask and held it in both hands. It looked to Scully like she had been almost afraid to remove it. Yet, underneath the white cotton shield, the woman was to put it simply, beautiful. Having a complexion like porcelain with large, dark, doe-like eyes under thick lashes, why on earth would she want to hide it? Perhaps the girl was just shy. Suddenly, Dana felt rather guilty over the way she'd spoken to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm probably just tired." She realised subconsciously she had been analysing this new assistant far too deeply. 'That's what comes of spending years and years devoted to weird phenomena and the like,' she thought to herself. 'You just can't seem to shake it. Damn his spooky sense for rubbing off on me!' "That's all right Doctor Scully," Naomi said, quietly. "I'm just a little nervous at being here. I've never worked this far away from home, and moving to the United States is proving quite daunting, as well as exciting." She gave a timid smile and added, "But I am looking forward to working with you." "With me?" Scully queried. "Yeah, I forgot to add-" Mark began, handing her the necessary paperwork he had tucked into his belt. "Naomi here is a qualified physician's assistant." Taking hold of his cousin's hand he started to guide her gently towards the door. "Could you excuse us for a moment Naomi? I need to explain some things to Dana." "Of course," she replied, and left the room. Scully had been briefly skimming over Naomi's resume revealing her qualifications, skills and places she'd studied as a medical student. She raised an eyebrow at him. "So, among various general and office duties she's going to be my chief assistant in all my surgeries? That good is she, Mark?" "Yes," he replied with a smile. "You won't need to fully train her either as she has had neurosurgical experience. She worked alongside a surgeon for the six years in the Nakamura Memorial Hospital in Hokkaido." "Impressive," Dana stated. "So why isn't she there any more?" Before he could reply she cut in with, "Look, I've never hired an assistant because I don't need another one Mark. Not at this present time at any rate." "Dana, I know you are snowed under with work, so don't tell me you don't need the help," Mark replied, trying to make her see how stubborn she was being. Before she could say anything in her defence he added, " I also have a personal reason for bringing her to you." "I'm listening." "It's a long story." "Aren't they always?" Scully replied, feeling a little impatient. "Okay, I'll try to keep this brief." "Please do." "Last year Naomi spent time in a psych ward after having a nervous breakdown. She had been living with her fiance for about four months when without any warning he suddenly killed himself. He was discovered in their apartment with his throat cut! His fingerprints were all over this kitchen knife." Scully's eyes widened. "Oh, god." "That's not all. In that same year her sister apparently committed suicide as well. She was a few years younger than Naomi and a gifted musician who was heading for a very promising career. She had everything to live for yet was found dead in their mother's house, both wrists slashed." "Where was the father?" Scully asked, shocked. Mark bowed his head. "He died in a plane crash a few years before these incidents." Taking hold of Scully's hand he added, "He was my uncle and I felt I owed it to his wife to take care of Naomi after she came out of hospital. Sachi just wasn't coping since the death of her youngest daughter and wasn't strong enough to be there for her. Ironically her name means blessed or lucky," he added, sadly. "So you took her under your wing?" "Yeah, and she's been just fine since she came over here, managed to stand on her own two feet once more. But she's bright, intelligent and needs to be working again. I was kind of hoping you'd be okay with this." He knew he was maybe sounding a little desperate but needed her approval. Scully sighed and dropped his hand. "I understand this girl's plight Mark, and you being family wish to help her, but you should have discussed this with me before you brought her to my office." "I realise that Dana, and I'm sorry," he said apologetically. "But I promise you she will be nothing but an asset to you. She knows her stuff. However, if there's any sign of any change in her mental state of mind, I will take full responsibility and relieve her of her position with you." "That's mighty nice of you, Mark," she replied with a touch of sarcasm. "I presume she's on medication?" "Yes, diazepam. She was on much stronger antidepressants during her time in the psychiatric unit. She's improved a great deal since then and the depression is no longer affecting her functioning in every day life." "All right, Mark," she said, defeated. "Let's give it a trial run. But if I find she cannot handle the work then I will terminate her employment. After all, we are here to save people and if someone isn't focused on the task at hand it could endanger patients lives. I can't have that." "Absolutely, Dr. Scully," he replied, gently emphasising the word 'doctor'. "Seriously though," he added, "Thank you for doing this. She's had such a rough time of it, poor kid. I just want to see Naomi working to her full potential again." "Any time, Mark," Scully, replied. She gestured towards the door. "You can ask her to come back in now and I'll start showing her the ropes." Putting a hand on his shoulder she added, "I really hope this works out." -------------------------------------------------------- Single-Story Rural Home in Nowhere, Virginia Retired agent Fox William Mulder glanced at his watch and the numbers 4.20pm flashed back at him in an eerie green fluorescent glow. He'd been making numerous phone calls to the Washington Bureau for at least an hour and was getting nowhere fast. He had really hoped that Kimberly would have patched him through by now to his old friend who had still managed to maintain his superiority in the FBI, Assistant Director Walter Sergei Skinner. Her most recent excuse was that he was in a very important board meeting and could not be disturbed. Mulder had known this was in all probability a lie but continued to remain on hold for a further 30 minutes, then had reluctantly given up. But he was damned if he was going to be defeated. Punching in the numbers once more, which was becoming like a mantra, he waited until the secretary answered with her cheery demeanour that was now beginning to get on his nerves! "Assistant Director Walter Skinner's office. Can I help you?" "Kimberly, it's me again," he began sharply. "Please don't give me that 'he's still in a meeting' crap. I need to speak to him!" "Mr. Mulder I would appreciate you not use that tone of voice with me," Kimberly said rather perturbed by his manner. "It's not my fault he was in a meeting." "I'm sorry," Mulder apologised. "It's just that he's the only one who will listen to me over there. But yeah, I shouldn't have taken my frustrations out on you." Then it struck him what she'd just said. "So he's free now?" Kimberly sighed heavily. She'd always thought of Fox Mulder as a very intelligent man, who was also very good looking as well, something she believed to be a rare combination in the male species as a whole. However, everyone has flaws and in this case it was his irrational way of looking at the world, where everything had to relate to the unknown and how he could see underhanded conspiracies in almost everything. She had never understood that part of his behaviour, and probably never would. "I'll see if I can patch you through." "Thank you," Mulder replied, almost relieved. There was a brief pause on the line. Then he heard his ex-bosses deep dulcet tones on the other end of the phone, and quickly realised he was sounding non too pleased. "Mulder, what on earth is it? Kimberly says you've been trying desperately to get a hold of me?" Now he finally had his attention, he suddenly realised what he was about to suggest could in all likelihood fall on deaf ears. Yet, Skinner was the only person who had been there for him during his time as an agent in the FBI, well most of the time. Hopefully he'd listen to what he had to say, but where to start? He thought he'd better try and keep it polite, whatever decided to come out of his mouth. "Sir, I-I found some old cases on the Net, revealing the brutal deaths of several women over the years, dating back to the sixties. The Bureau closed them because they were classed as suicides and nothing more. Only..?" "You hacked into the FBI's database?" Skinner interrupted, sternly. "Um?" Mulder hesitated, knowing full well this was a felony and it could have landed him in deep water telling the Assistant Director this. "I-I guess I did, sir," he admitted, defeated. Walter Skinner let out an exasperated sigh down the phone. "Go on." Realising his ex-boss was going to reluctantly let him off the hook and not press charges, he carried on with trepidation. "I-um-believe there were paranormal reasons for those deaths, sir." "Mulder?" He heard his name uttered in a low ominous tone. "Sir, they all died in front of mirrors and I used to have cases revealing this phenomena and..?" "Mulder, you don't have the X Files any more," Skinner cut him off abruptly. "I realise that, sir. You think I don't?" he replied, a touch of anger brewing. "So, why can you not let it go, Mulder? Move on, for god's sake." Skinner had sounded extremely harsh and that upset him but he carried on, trying to remain calm. "Sir, you valued my contribution once upon-a-time. Sure, you showed your approval reluctantly sometimes but you also showed me some respect and I believe I returned that respect." "Mulder?" Skinner began, again. But before he could add anything else his former agent carried on with what he was trying to say. "They took it all from me," Mulder said, very quietly, breathing slowly. He swallowed hard trying not to let the tears follow. "You know as well as I do how unfair that was." Skinner's voice took on a gentler tone. "Yes, I do." "It was everything I had" Mulder said, his voice barely audible. "Everything that I was." This time Skinner's sigh was sympathetic. "You have Scully now and a new life together. Isn't that important?" "Of course it is, but I still need to do what I believe I was put on this god forsaken planet to do," he replied dejectedly. Skinner sensed the tension in his former agents voice and decided to approach carefully. "Why, Mulder? I mean, why can't you just drop this and move on? The last involvement with the FBI almost cost you your god dammed life!" His voice rose slightly. "You should never have been asked to help look for that missing agent." "That was Scully's doing," Mulder said, abruptly. "She's the one who asked me to help them. Later I realised the good I could do and so I had to stay on board." He gave a heavy sigh. "What good am I if I can't help people, huh? How about the people no one else wants to help because the paranormal is involved?" "You are not everyone's saviour," Skinner said, softly. "No one should have that kind of a burden on their shoulders." The irony in that sentence almost made Mulder laugh out loud. "So, the FBI is never going to require my assistance again? Fine! I'll just stay out of the way when the fucking invasion occurs in 2012." Okay that was a stupid and pointless retort he decided, because the chances of stepping away unscathed from an impending apocalypse was almost next to impossible. Walter Skinner's breath caught in his throat. He had carelessly overlooked this very real and looming threat, maybe because he seriously didn't think his mind could cope with it right at this present time. He also knew that in the not so distant future, Fox Mulder would indeed get dragged back, kicking and screaming if need be, to become an ally for the FBI. "Gone quiet, all of a sudden have we, sir?" Mulder asked. "I just don't know what else to say," he replied, admitting defeat. "All I can advise is you keep away from those FBI cases, old and new and go and live your life with the woman you love. It's the best I can offer, Mulder." A brief pause then, "I'm sorry." "You mean enjoy what time we have left don't you, Sir?" "Yes," Skinner replied. Truth was no one knew how much life they had left. Someone could get run over by a bus the next day or die trying to save mankind from a race of grey aliens intent on claiming re-ownership of their planet. He refrained from going along those lines of thought any further. Mulder changed the subject abruptly. "I thought you might be able to help me re-open at least one or two of these cases," he said, the tension building inside. "I guess I was expecting too much from you." "I'm sorry, Mulder. I can't help you, not with what you're asking. Not this time," Skinner replied, a forced calmness in his voice. "So, you're saying you'll be there for me when the fucking aliens invade? Well, I guess I should be grateful for that at least," Mulder said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Thanks for nothing, Sir." "Please Mulder!" Skinner exclaimed. "My hands are tied, you know that." Before he could let the man reply he added, "Just forget The X Files and everything ever connected to them, for your own sake," he pleaded. "My own sake? That's rich coming from you, sir." Mulder was starting to let the anger seep through, but then somehow managed to keep it at bay. "Walter, I know they'll finish your career if you help me in any way." He sniffed a little as his eyes began to brim with tears. "I'm sorry I bothered you." "I'm sorry too, so sorry." Skinner had been extremely resentful having to watch while the FBI tried to destroy Fox Mulder's reputation and good name yet could do nothing about it. Now the feeling was back in full force because he was just as helpless. "Mulder," he said, softly, not allowing his former agent to hear the anger in his voice. "Don't call here again. Take Scully and go away together, far away from this." "Already done that, Sir," he replied, resigning to the fact he was going to receive no further help from the AD. "Tropical Island, the whole shebang." There was a pause on the other end of the line then he heard Skinner making some feeble excuse. "Mulder, I have to go. I'm scheduled for another meeting with the board of directors." Walter Skinner felt incredibly guilty having to end the conversation this way. But there really was nothing more he could offer. Those bastards held the reins and he would have to keep tagging along, or just like Mulder, would be forced to resign from his job and it was a pivotal position he did not wish to lose. "Of course you do, Walter," he replied letting out a long heavy sigh. "Take care, Mulder," Skinner said, quietly. Could he have been more transparent with those words? "You too, Sir." With a heavy heart Mulder hung up the phone then glanced over at his laptop which still displayed a website revealing the folklore tale about 'Bloody Mary'. Just what had he been expecting from Skinner, a miracle? There was nothing the man could do and it had been ridiculous to even think he could. The 'powers that be' owned him hook, line and sinker. He'd just have to work out another way to pursue those cases himself. Oh, but he would find a solution because no way was he going to give up that easily. As for the possible extinction of mankind that was looming out on the horizon, it was probably best not to dwell on that subject for now, more for his own sanity than anything else. Reaching over to turn off the printer, Mulder stood up and stretched his arms above his head, hearing his bones crack from the strain as he did so. Damn, he was getting far too old for this, however the chances of retirement just seemed like an elusive dream. Snatching a manila folder from his desk, he read the title he'd scrawled out with a black marker. B. M. folklore v Mirror girls' deaths. Then tucking it under one arm, he strode out into the living room, grabbed his coat off the hat rack and headed towards the front door, slamming it shut as he left the house. ----------------------------------------------------------- Our Lady Of Sorrows Hospital, Richmond, Virginia Several hours seemed to come and go without Dana Scully realising just exactly how much time had in fact passed. At Mark's request, she had taken on his cousin as her assistant. As an introduction to becoming her right-hand man as it were, she had taken Naomi through a surgical procedure involving a patient who was having problems of the neck and lower back. Dana had shown her how to perform an anterior cervical fusion, which removed pressure on the nerves in the neck area by removing the discs between the vertebrae that were pressing upon them. She had then demonstrated how to fuse the affected vertebrae together, by connecting them with metal plates and placing a piece of bone between them, explaining that this would keep the vertebrae from crushing the nerve again and eventually the added bone would fuse the vertebrae into one. Dana had to admit she had been very impressed with the way the young woman had carefully observed every moment during the surgery and even asked intelligent and well thought out questions afterwards. Feeling very satisfied with her new protegee she'd left Naomi to complete a thorough history and physical examination on all the new office patients prior to presenting each one to her whereupon she would then help formulate a treatment plan, among other duties. Finally catching a moment's rest, Dana had retired to her office and was just about to start munching on a sandwich, which would have been the only other thing she'd been able to eat since breakfast, which now seemed eons away. All of a sudden there was a sharp knock on her door. "Oh please," she said, sighing heavily. Perhaps if she ignored whoever it was they'd go away and leave her in peace? Nice idea, but unfortunately, the professional side of her knew she could not behave in this manner. So, reluctantly returning her sandwich to its cellophane wrapper she called out, "Come in!" Expecting the visitor to be a member of staff, she was completely taken by surprise when the door opened just enough to allow her partner to stick his head through. "Mulder!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" "I'm really sorry to bother you, Scully. A nurse said you were in your office so I presumed you were taking some free time?" he asked, hopefully. Free time? And just what was that pray tell? "Well, I was," she replied, frowning a little. Then she gestured for him to come in. "Mind if I eat while we talk?" she asked, retrieving her extremely late lunch or early dinner depending on which way you chose to define it. Taking a large bite out of the sandwich, mouth now full, she savoured the delicious contents, then added, "Sorry, it's just I haven't eaten since the crack of dawn." Mulder crossed over and sat down opposite her whilst she carried on munching. "Course not," he said. "I haven't eaten either." "Why not?" Scully asked, puzzled. "We've got food in the fridge and there's always take-out." Nine times out of ten he'd usually resorted to phoning some fast food diner whenever he finally admitted he was hungry. "Lost track of time," he admitted, feebly. Taking the folder he'd brought with him, he placed it on the desk and removed the papers he'd printed out at their home. Scully shook her head and smiled. "So, what's kept you so busy this time?" "A string of old FBI cases dealing with the similar deaths of young women. Only they were closed, when they shouldn't have been" he said, giving her a timid smile, whilst handing over the information he'd discovered on the Internet. Realising she was more than likely going to rebuke him for looking into such matters, he added, "Scully, I know I can solve these." "Oh and here I was thinking you'd found some new porn site to occupy your mind," she said, cuttingly. Glancing briefly through pages of typing she came across an artist's depiction of a haggard old woman with a severe facial disfigurement. Another picture revealed a stick- thin grey, drab, woman with a mass of tangled hair. Noticing the wording underneath clearly revealed information about a certain paranormal myth, she sighed heavily. "Bloody Mary, Mulder?" He squirmed in his seat but stood his ground. "Those women all died in front of mirrors. Yeah, the coroner's reports gave some very good reasons for suicides but they didn't account for those whose eyes were encrusted with coagulated blood, almost as if they had just exploded out of their sockets, plus amongst those victims they found no weapons. How do you explain that?" Mulder asked, shrugging his shoulders. Scully really didn't have time for this, but thought she had better attempt to give him some sort of an answer. Perhaps he would accept a logical explanation just this once and cease bothering her? The chances of that happening were remote and she knew it, but decided to give her theory anyway. "It could have been a freak medical condition. Maybe an aneurysm or perhaps a stroke was the cause?" Mulder snorted with derision. "Should have realised you'd come up with a scientific explanation, even if you can't completely justify it," he said, sounding a little annoyed. "After all we went through in the past, including the unexplained phenomena that we actually witnessed, and yet you still turn to your fucking medical science for the answers." "Well, what do you expect?" Scully retorted, now angry by his unexpected outburst. "I'm a doctor, Mulder! You know that's my position in life now. I want absolutely nothing more to do with the supernatural, and I also remember telling you this after our last encounter!" She shuddered as images came into her mind of the ex-priest and his so-called psychic connections that had led them to a perverse experiment involving the removing of a man's head whilst he was still being kept alive. A group of men had been planning to surgically attach it to a woman's body, which they would also have beheaded whilst the poor girl was still breathing, if she and Skinner hadn't stopped them in time. Mulder sat back heavily in the chair. "If I recall, most of that last 'encounter' just showed us how science is capable of reaching some pretty sick achievements. All man's doing I believe, not mythical monsters or any other paranormal creature," he answered, defiantly. "Even the two-headed dog was created by genetic experiments." Scully calmed a little, knowing he was right in this case. "Okay, so you believe these deaths were caused by a witch?" she said showing him the page she was referring to, then proceeded to read some of the text. "Mary Worth, lived over 100 years and dabbled in the black arts. She was found out and executed." Skipping through several paragraphs she read, "Um, legend has it that if you chant 'Bloody Mary' three times in front of a mirror on the stroke of midnight, it will summon her angry spirit who is seeking revenge for the punishment of her death." Giving him a look of anguish she handed the pages back to him. "So do you really expect me to believe that all these women played that children's game when the clock struck twelve, and as a result of their foolishness Mary stole their eyes, huh?" "Some of them had their throats cut as well," Mulder began, sounding irritated. "Look there is more than one myth that could perhaps relate to these murders. One revealed this spirit of a woman who had originally been murdered in front of her bathroom mirror by her jealous husband. He had cut out her eyes so she could no longer see the hurt and pain she had caused him and had also removed her tongue so she could no longer speak his name. So if you summoned her you received the same treatment." "Really," Scully sighed deeply. She realised he was about to give her a run down of all the related folklore that had ever been documented, and also knew she wouldn't be able to stop him. So resigning to this fact she sat back in her chair and continued to finish off her lunch, whilst reluctantly, listening to what he had to say. "Another possible origin is the legend of Elizabeth Bathory, also known in Hungary as Countess Dracula who was rumoured to have killed young girls and bathed in their blood to preserve her youthful beauty. Of course, she wasn't named Mary, but it still became related to that myth." "So, now we have vampires added to the mix?" Scully interrupted. "What are next, werewolves perhaps?" She knew her voice had taken on a sarcastic edge, and noticed the hurt in his expression. "Please Scully. Let me finish," he pleaded. Those sad, puppy dog eyes of his were now boring into her soul, and when that happened there was nothing she could do but wait it out. "Sorry," she said apologetically. "Please continue." "There's also a historical connection," he said, hoping she at least might find this next bit of information interesting. In answer Scully just nodded her head, and rolled her eyes at him. Not to be put off by her obvious disinterest at this point Mulder continued reading. "Mary Tudor who became Mary I, Queen of England was given the nickname 'Bloody Mary' when she violently executed and burnt folk at the stake for heresy throughout her 5- year reign." Glancing up at his partner, he could see her eyes were now glazing over, so much for trying to impress her with a piece of historical fact. "There's also a modern myth about a local woman who was involved in a fatal car accident, and her face was horribly scarred before she died. She reappears in the mirror when summoned, with that same horrific face." He noticed her expression hadn't altered, so added quietly, "There's one more explanation I found, but I'm guessing you've heard enough?" "You guessed correctly" Scully replied, extremely relieved that he had managed to somehow stop himself from continuing any further with these mundane folklore tales. She then realised he was starting to chew on his bottom lip, which he always did when he either got nervous or irritable, so decided to approach with a tiny white lie. "Okay, so there are these fascinating myths about this 'Bloody Mary'. But what has that got to do with these women's murders, if indeed they were even murders?" "That's what I want to find out," Mulder stated firmly. "Scully, you knew who I was during all those years we worked together on the X Files. Before we got anywhere near as close as we are now. I'm sorry but I can't change who I am." "I'm not asking you to do that," she said, softly. "But after the last incident where I saved you from being killed, I just don't want to have to face anything like that any more. If you must know I'd be really glad if you never got mixed up in the paranormal again. But..?" she paused, knowing the chances of that actually happening were to put it bluntly, impossible. "But however much it pains me to say this," she continued. "It wouldn't be fair of me to try and stop you." She regretfully realised she would never be able to completely eradicate the paranormal from her everyday waking life either, not when she also knew the date of this final alien invasion in 2012. However, even now there was a part of her that stubbornly refused to accept this event was going to take place. It was what kept her from falling apart, not accepting the paranormal at face value, unlike her partner who welcomed it with open arms. At least she could put all of her concentration into her work at the hospital until such times arose if they were going to, but Mulder would continue to thrive on his beliefs until kingdom come. Sadly, she knew it was his way of dealing with life as a whole. Mulder let out a long aggrieved sigh. "I seem to remember it was you Scully who asked me to help the FBI with that last case. I was very reluctant to do so, but gave in anyway?" "I know," she, replied. "But then when things got too heavy, I remember asking you to step away, but you wouldn't." Taking hold of her hand, Mulder closed his eyes briefly then looked straight into her own. "No matter what happens, I won't let the darkness come between us," he stated, whilst at the same time wondering if he could one day find the strength to prevent it from entering their lives. "Mulder, you can't promise me that" she replied, sadly. "Especially while you continue to pursue it." "Scully, you can't expect me to go and get a mind numbing job in an office. Now that would kill me," he admitted, truthfully. She gave him a brief smile. "I'm not asking you to do that, Mulder." "Then what are you asking?" he said letting go of her hand. "I just want you to try-" she started to say, but the rest of her words refused to come out. Maybe because she feared if she'd said exactly what was on her mind, he would have refused to listen. It seemed as though they were destined to remain on that never-ending merry-go-round forever. Mulder placed the papers back in his folder, rose from the chair and proceeded towards the door. "I can't let go of this," he said quietly, and then left the room. Scully put both elbows on her desk and resignedly dropped her chin into her hands, closing her eyes as she did so. "That's what I was afraid of," she muttered to herself solemnly. END OF PART 1 -------------