From: Koo Date: 5 May 2003 12:51:27 -0700 Subject: NEW: Candle Wax by Koo (*Extreme* NC-17) Source: atxc TITLE: Candle Wax AUTHOR: Koo CLASSIFICATION: MT, MSR, SPOILER: References made to Orison RATING: NC-17 (language, abohrrent sexuality and violence) If this offends you, go no further! You've been warned! DISCLAIMER: All characters except those Invented by the author are the property of Fox and 1013. No copyright infringement intended, no profit being made. United States District Court, November 1990 "The evidence obtained in this case came about as the result of an illegal search. The case is dismissed," the judge said shortly her eyes focused on the young FBI agent seated in the first row of the gallery. Mulder stood up. "But your honor..", he began and was cut off. "But nothing Agent Mulder. Might I suggest that you look over the FBI handbook again or perhaps a copy of the Constitution?" "Your Honor we had probable cause to enter the residence without a warrant." "I have found no such cause. I'm not going to argue about this. I have made my ruling. Case dismissed." She brought the gavel down loudly. He felt Reggie Purdue's hand grasp his shoulder. "It's over Mulder. Let's go." "I cannot believe this." "Believe it Mulder. Sorry to say this shit occurs on a daily basis. With each passing year the courts make it harder and harder for us to do our jobs." "The girl was being held in the house. We had every right to enter, her life was in danger." "Let it go Fox. Someone like Perry doesn't change. He will do it again and this time, we won't make any mistakes. We still have a case pending against his girlfriend, let's just concentrate on that." May 8, 1999, Alexandria Virginia "Come with me," she said her hand outstretched. "Why?" "Don't question it. Just go with it." "I don't even know who you are. Take off your mask." "I will once we reach our final destination." She walked toward him, catlike and stealth. She lifted the black velvet to expose her lips which were a deep scarlet and glossy. He wanted to pull the maskoff her face, but was intrigued by her anonymity. Facing him she leaned in,her lips gently touching his. He could taste cinnamon. Mulder awoke with a jolt and grabbed for his bureau issued pistol which was always at the ready on his coffee table. He aimed and was fully prepared to pull the trigger, but there was nobody else in the room. Tossing off the afghan, he rose. Each room was empty. He settled back onto the sofa and tried to get some more sleep. "Come with me, Fox. Forget everything you have ever learned...," the voice said once more until his slumber was interrupted by the shrill sound of his alarm. May 8, 1999 FBI Headquarters "You look like shit Mulder," Scully said bluntly as Mulder walked through the door of the small basement office they shared. "Good morning to you too Scully." "Really Mulder, you don't look well. You should go home and get some sleep." "I'm alright Scully. I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't get backto sleep. Not the first time it's ever happened and it won't be the last." "An Agent Dickson would like for you to call him." "Agent Dickson?" "Yes, said you knew him back in violent crime." "He was the agent assigned to be Reggie's partner after I got myself reassignedto the X-Files. Did he say what it was about?" "He wouldn't go into specific detail, but it has something to do with a case you worked on back in 1990. I think he referred to it as the Perry Case." Scully could see that his facial expression was notably changed from tired to concerned. "Mulder?" Scully asked. Having worked together for over six years, he knew this was a prompt to volunteer more information. "It was my only case at violent crime which was never prosecuted." "Why wasn't it?" "I made a stupid novice agent mistake and the guy walked. We were lucky to get a guilty verdict for his girlfriend though." "What did they do?" "They were responsible for a series of bizarre sex killings across the eastern seaboard." "Sex killings." "Games of S&M that ended up in murder. The last victim was the sister of his girlfriend Paulette in fact." "Incest and sadomasochism how lovely," Scully snorted. "In fact, I am due at her parole hearing next week. They'll never let her out." Mulder grabbed his coat from the rack. "You just got here Mulder." "I'm going to talk to Dickson." Scully perused the filing cabinet. For all the clutter that was in the office, Mulder was meticulous with his filing cabinet and it did not take her long to find the file marked: Federal Bureau of Investigation, case #1967-9-6993, Perry. Enclosed in a zip lock bag were audio tapes no doubt from her initial questioning. Opening the bag Scully took one out at random. Sitting at his desk, she pushed the button on his cassette player and slid the tap in, closed it and pushed play. "What happened the day Simone died?" a male voice that Scully recognized immediately as Mulder's asked. 'We picked her up from work at The Burger Basket that day. We drove to my house and had some dinner. We had spaghetti that night, spaghetti was her favorite. After dinner we were just laughing and joking, Cal made some margaritas. After about the third she said that she was starting to feel sick and dizzy. We'd drugged her drinks. Five maybe ten minutes passed and then she was out like a light.. Cal got some rope from the garage and I got a scarf from my dresser. We tied her up, gagged her, dragged her to the bedroom closet." 'Then what happened?" "We went down to the local discount store and bought candles. Cal loves candle wax. Bought a pack of smokes at the 7-11 and we came home. She was still in the closet, passed out. Cal went downstairs to the kitchen to fetch a glass of ice water. He came back up threw it in her face so she would come to." "Did she?" "No, so we knew we would have to wait until later that night. We went downstairs and watched a movie. Think it was "When Harry Met Sally. Ever see that?" "No." "I didn't think you had. You don't seem like the type." "Let's just get back to what happened that night." "Around 2 am we heard a slight banging upstairs. We both went up. She was awake again. We walked her downstairs, through the door which led to the garage. Cal already had the chains of the engine pulley down. He took the handcuffs from the toolbox and put them on her, looped them through the hook and pulled her up. With his knife Cal cut off her clothes and underwear. He ate her out as I watched. She was squirming. I could tell she wanted to scream but couldn't. That just made Cal get even hotter. He lowered the pulley until her toes nearly touched the floor. I lit some candles, poured the hot wax on her back." "What was Cal doing at this time?" "Jacking off. Then he went to the toolbox, took the scalpel he had stolen from a medical supply warehouse and he slit her throat." "What were you doing?" "I was sucking him off as he watched all the blood pouring out of her jugular. This excites you doesn't it Agent Mulder? You're getting off on all the explicit details I can see it in your face." "All you see ma'am is a look of utter disgust." "Ma'am? You make me sound like an old woman. I'm only 24. I think you'd enjoy it, Fox, that's your name isn't it? The things I have thought about doing to a handsome young man like you." "You don't frighten me Paulette or excite me. Too bad for you, you'll never get your chance." "Agent Mulder?" "Yes?" "For the preliminary could you bring me my black leather dress? I want to look nice for Cal when he sees me in the courtroom. He loves that dress." "Find someone else to do it. I'm not Spiegel." She pressed the off button. Lazily her hand ran through her hair and she wondered about what Dickson and Mulder were discussing at that moment. Agent Frank Dickson's Office, 6th Floor FBI Headquarters Though it had been about 3 years Mulder automatically recognized the tall blond Nordic form of Frank Dickson. Dickson took another bite of the bear claw Danish he had been eating and placed it on a napkin, which was laying on top of his desk. "Mulder," he greeted warmly rising from his chair. "Hey Frank." "How are things in the basement?" "Can't complain. Why did you need to talk to me? Agent Scully said that it had something to do with the Perry case." "Well indirectly." "Indirectly? I'm not quite sure that I understand." "The Detroit PD has been investigating six killings whose MO's have Perry's signature all over them." "You've picked him up?" Mulder asked hopefully. "Not quite, we haven't had any success locating him in the greater Detroit area or any of the outlying communities." "Would you like my assistance on the case?" "You know I would love for you to, Fox, but...." "But..." Mulder could see the look of discomfort which covered his face. "Come on, you can tell me Frank." "The SAC on the case doesn't really care for you." "Who is the SAC?" "Carole Lundgren." Mulder bowed his head as redness flushed his cheeks. The chuckle he was trying to suppress freed itself. Dickson joined in the laughter. "I guess she never got over it Mulder." "I guess not." "I think its pretty petty she still holds a grudge about you standing her up. I have no problem profiling killers, but the minds of women...well that is an entirely different matter." "Well Frank, I do appreciate you keeping me in the loop." "There is more to this than merely keeping you in the loop Mulder." Dickson walked back towards his desk and opened the top middle drawer. In his hand, he grasped a CD-ROM. "Someone has sent you a collection of their favorite songs with a love letter", Dickson stated sarcastically. "Perry?" "We suspect, and Mulder....." "What?" Mulder inquired his expression becoming suddenly serious. "There is a photo slideshow on it. The pictures are quite disturbing." "I can imagine." "No they aren't of any victims or the acts occurring that are disturbing. What *is* disturbing is that they are pictures of your partner." "What kind of pictures?" "Manipulations." Mulder's head snapped up at his response. "Yes, the "artist" superimposed her head on pictures of women in extreme bondage magazines. The real seedy stuff Mulder. The kind even *you* won't read." "So he's in the DC area?" "We think so. I wanted you to come here today to let you know that both Agent Scully's and your residences are under 24 hour surveillance. "Can I see the pictures?" "Wouldn't you feel more comfortable doing that in your office Mulder?" "No. I don't want Scully to know about this just yet." "Why?" "She has been through so much in the last two years. I don't want her to have to worry about some sex-crazed killer coming after her. Once in one year was enough." "Yeah. I heard about Pfaster attacking her in her apartment" "That case screwed with her head like nothing I have seen before Frank. If I can, I want to not put her through that again, until we know for certain that Perry is in the DC area. I trust you and I know that you will be looking out for the both of us." "You're more than a co-worker Fox, you're the Godfather of my only child. You have my word, both you and Agent Scully will be safe." Days Later, Federal Women's Penentiary, Sheppard, North Carolina Mulder walked back to his seat in the small parole hearing room in the prison. This prison was where Paulette Davies had been incarcerated for the last eleven years. He grasped the manilla folder in his hand which contained the crime scene photographs and her written confession. The collection of federal prison officials had been visibly shaken when they viewed the pictures. The only word which could be used to describe the images depicted were sheer brutality. One of the parole board members had to excuse herself after looking at the post-mortems of Simone Davies. Mulder had been one of eight witnesses speaking on behalf of the government. The most surprising of the witnesses called was Paulette's own mother, who pleaded with the gathered authorities to leave her only surviving child in prison to live out the rest of her days. Mulder could hear the slight click of heels and the faint scent of cologne to his right. Scully came and sat next to him. "How is it going?" she whispered in his ear. "Well... I think. I don't think her request will be granted." "Miss Davies would you like to make a statement on your behalf before we adjourn in order to make our ruling?" a frumpy woman with graying hair and thick glasses asked, looking at Paulette. "Yes I would," she said in a voice that was calm and quiet. "Go on," the woman replied. "Not a day goes by that I don't regret what I have done. If given the chance all over again, I would gladly take the place of all the women and men Cal and I murdered. Not a day goes by that I don't think about my sister, the horror and pain that she must've felt in her last hours here on earth. I loved her and I will be missing her for the rest of my life. Of all of our victims, she is the one I regret the most. I wish that I had never met Cal Perry, but I did. I have tried my best to atone for my crimes, but I know that I never will. I just hope that the government and the relatives of the dead can find it in their hearts to forgive me. Since coming here I have gotten the know the Lord Jesus Christ and accept Him as my personal savior and through him I know that I am no longer the same person that I was 11 years ago. I am a better person by His grace and forgiveness. I do not expect you to grant my request for parole, but in the event that you do, I can assure you that I am no longer capable of doing what I did 11 years ago. I can assure you that the public would be safe. Thank you." "They *all* find Jesus in the pen" Mulder sarcastically remarked to Scully as the head of the parole board brought her gavel down and called for an hour recess so they could come to a ruling. The room cleared, but Mulder and Scully remained seated. "I didn't think you were coming," Mulder said. "I finished up the Brown autopsy early and thought I would come down to give you some moral support." "I appreciate that Scully." "When we get back to the office I need to show you something." She sighed heavily. "What?" "Something that was delivered to the office today which was very disturbing." "Don't leave me hanging Scully what was it?" "A painting." "A painting? What kind of painting?" "A nude painting. The subject was me, Mulder. I am gagged, bound and a disembodied hand is pouring candle wax on me." Mulder nervously brought his hand to his face and with his fingers stroked his jaw and chin. "Does this painting have any relation to the case Agent Dickson wanted to talk to you about a few days back?" "Yes. Perry was a painter by profession. What you just described sounds like an exact replica of a painting he had done of Paulette that was hanging above the mantel of their living room in Boston." "I have been getting this feeling Mulder that you have been keeping things from me the last few days. Whatever it is, I can handle it. You don't need to protect me." "There were six killings in the Detroit area last month and Dickson believes that Perry is the primary suspect. The MO is his without a doubt. VC was sent a CD-ROM about 2 weeks ago. He is following us Scully. There were recent photographs of you. We've been under 24 hour surveillance the last 2 weeks." "Mulder don't ever keep information like this from me again. Ever," she said testily. "I'm sorry," he said sheepishly, "I just thought it best considering the Pfaster incident only a few months back." "Mulder I am a big girl, I can handle it." "Would you like to get something to eat before the hearing re-commences?" "Yes, but your're buying." An Abandoned Warehouse, Baltimore, Maryland Meticulously he tested the strength of the chain in the engine pulley. It had been a long time since he had used it and a light coat of rust covered a few random links. He was looking forward to this adventure more than he had any of the previous. His erection brushed against his tight jeans as he thought of Mulder crying and pleading for the life of his pretty redheaded partner, then he would be pleading for his own. His death would be much slower than that of Paulette's slut sister Simone. This would be his opus, a slow, lingering and calculated waltz of death. He longed for Paulette to be at his side. Realistically, he knew that her parole would never be granted. Of one thing he was certain, she would be with him in spirit. He walked into the bathroom. The mirror was covered in a thick film of filth which had accumulated since the building had been condemned two years before. He picked up the roll of paper towels and Windex he had brought with him, and with circular and sweeping motions, he cleaned it. His own image looked back at him in the mirror, the long mousy brown hair, the emotionless brown eyes and the drooping mustache. He picked up the pair of scissors which were on a nearby counter. The locks of hair cascaded to the floor as he cut. When he was finished his hair was very short. He picked up the box of strawberry blond Miss Clairol and mixed the ingredients. In twenty minutes he would look like a different person. The colored contacts which would make his eyes blue and the wire rimmed glasses would complete his metamorphosis. Federal Women's Penentiary, Sheppard, North Carolina The members of the parole board filed in a single line and took the same seats as they had previously. The older woman with the graying hair, put on her glasses and opened a manilla folder. "Guard, please bring in the prisoner." Paulette Davies walked in behind her jailer. Her head was bowed. The long strands of blond hair concealed her face making it impossible for Mulder to see her facial expression. "Please remain standing," the woman said. "After much consideration, we cannot grant parole at this time. Miss Davies, despite your exemplry conduct while in this institution you still fail to recognize or take responsiblity for your part in these crimes. You were a grown and intelligent woman who could've contacted the police or at least have fled from Mr. Perry. In addition the heinous and violent nature of the crimes makes us reluctant to release you at this time. Do you understand Miss Davies?" "Yes," she said in a voice that was barely audible. "This hearing is adjourned." FBI Headquarters The Next Morning Mulder picked up the pile of mail as Scully was in the other room pouring them both a much deserved cup of coffee. It struck Mulder as funny, that even at work he received junk mail . There was a plain white envelope with no return address. Picking up the letter opener, he slashed the top of it open. Mulder, Just to let you know, I am watching you. I know everything about you and your partner. I can hardly wait until I fuck her until she bleeds, with you watching of course. You like that sort of thing don't you? Don't deny it, I stood behind you in the line of video store just last night. Fox Mulder: the kinky FBI agent. Shame, shame! Well I always sensed it in you, so did Paulette. And just why haven't you fucked Scully yet? I bet her tight little snatch begs for it. Well since you are not man enough, I am. Just wanted to let you know, what is yours will be mine soon enough. It was typewritten and without a signature. Scully walked back into the room holding two mugs. She held out the cup to Mulder. "What is it?" He handed her the letter. "I am going to take this down to the lab Mulder. If he licked it to seal it, we will have DNA." "And enough to arrest him, maybe not for murder but for sending threats through the mail and stalking. What is the post-mark on the envelope?" "Annapolis." "Well, you take that to the crime lab and I will go see Dickson to see if we can coordinate a search of Annapolis and the surrounding communities. This time the sonofabitch is going to prison." Dickson and Mulder spent the afternoon canvassing various abandoned building and warehouses in the Annapols area. When that proved fruitless, they started questioning local merchants. Mulder suggested that they start at local sex shops and hardware stores. They walked into a tacky lingerie shop. The woman who stood behind the counter looked out of place to be working in an establishment such as this one. Her short brown hair was in a cut that Mulder thought of as being rather butch. She looked up from the book she was reading and took off the thick horned rimmed glasses which had been resting on the bridge of her nose. "Can I help you?" "Yes ma'am. I am Agent Dickson and this is Agent Mulder. We are both from the Federal Bureau of Investigation," Dickson said, as they simultaneously displayed their badges. "What can I do for you?" "We are looking for a murder suspect and we know that he frequents shops like these," Mulder explained as he produced Perry's mug shot. "Have you seen this man?" "He looks familiar. I had a guy in here about four days ago, who would be a dead ringer for the guy. I'd never seen him in here before. Our customers are regulars and this guy was new. That is why I remember him." "Did he mention anything, where he was from or what he was doing in Annapolis?" "No just put his items on the counter and paid for them." "What did he buy?" "He spent a lot of money. A hell of a lot. One of the kinky ones. He bought a leather mask, whip, nipple clamps, anal plug, handcuffs, candles and a couple more things I can't recall at the moment. Bill came to over $300. And... oh yeah, he bought a black leather corset and panties to match." "Do you remember what the size was?" "I would have to go look that up in the inventory list. It will take me a few minutes. Feel free to look around." Mulder and Dickson looked around the shop. Dickson chuckled at the wide variety of dildos that were hanging on a wall display. He pointed to one. "Damn Mulder that *has* to be a gag gift. That is so big it would hurt a woman." "You'd be surprised what some people like Dickson." "That's true, just look at you Mulder. Who would guess that under that calm and cool exterior, lurks the former lothario of the FBI academy." "You've been talking to Lundgren again I see." "Maybe you should ask her out again." "Why?" "Just smooth things over." "No thank you." "Here it is," the counter girl said as she emerged from the back room. "The outfit was a size 4." Dickson turned to Mulder. "For Paulette in prison?" "No. Paulette is many things, but petite is not one of them. Scully wears a size 4." Mulder's Apartment, Alexandria Virginia 2 Days Later The maintenance man placed his tool box on the floor in the hallway as he reached into his pocket for the keys to #42. It was his second day on the job and he had not found himself bored for an instant. The kitchen faucet was leaking in the small flat occupied by Fox Mulder. It gave Perry the access he had been seeking without arousing suspicion. He walked into the kitchen where the sink was piled with dirty dishes. He snorted in disgust and was almost tempted to wash them. Instead, he opened the cupboards. "The man must never go grocery shopping," he mused to himself, taking inventory of the few items that were stored there: a bad of chips, some Mallomars, a can of Folgers dark roast and a small jar of Irish Cream Coffeemate. He opened the toolbox and replaced the washer. Scully's Apartment, Georgetown, VA later that night. Mulder stood in the hallway outside of Scully's apartment grasping two brown bags. He felt badly that she had been so miffed at him and wanted to make it up to her. They hadn't been able to touch bases during the day as he had spent it with Dickson in Annapolis, she was still irritated, but open to the idea of him bringing dinner. He had stopped at the Dehli Palace on Tenth street and ordered Chicken Vindaloo, Shrimp Biryani and Garlic Naan to go. He loved Indian food and had eaten it throughout his days at Oxford. His roommate had been from Calcutta and one of the first things he wanted to do when he got back stateside was to find a good Indian restaurant. He was unsure if Scully would like it, but decided to takethe chance. She looked through the peephole after he knocked and opened the door. "Come in. Have a seat Mulder." He placed the bags on her coffeetable as she went into the kitchen to gather plates and cutlery. "What would you like to drink Mulder?" "Do you have iced tea?" "Just the instant kind." He grimaced. "Any thing else besides that?" "Diet Coke or V-8." "I'll have a diet Coke." She reached into the cupboard, grabbed a glass, went to the refrigerator and poured the soft drink. "What did you bring Mulder? It mells....interesting." "Indian from the Dehli Palace on 10th." "Indian Food? I thought we had agreed on Chinese. I can't stand Indian food," she whined as she walked back into the living room, his Diet Coke in her hand. "I'm sorry. Chan's was closed so I had to make a hasty substitution." "You should have called and asked Mulder. I would prefer Kentucky Fried Chicken to that." "I just can't win with you today, can I Scully?" "Forget about it. I will just make myself a grilled cheese sandwich." "I can go out and get something for you." Scully sighed. She started to feel bad for her intolerance of him. "That's OK Mulder. I know you meant well," she said softly, taking the place next to him on the couch. "Any leads on Perry's whereabouts?" she inquired. "He was in Annapolis. Purchased some items at an sex shop there, but that is as far as we've gotten." Mulder opened the bag and put some of the spicy rice dish and stewed chicken on his plate. He dipped some of the naan in the red sauce. Scully grabbed a piece of the naan and put it in her mouth, chewed and swallowed. "This isn't bad Mulder. Sorry for being this way. I have been feeling very stressed today." "Me too. It's not easy to stomach, knowing that someone is watching you." "I got a phone call today from the prison that I think might interest you." "What about?" "There was a fight in the prison laundry. Paulette Davies is in the hospital in critical condition. Doesn't look like she will make it." "I wish I could say I was sorry, but I'm not. If she dies it will save the American taxpayers some money." "I took the liberty of asking Skinner to post some guards outside her room in the event that Perry hears of the incident and tries to see her at the hospital." "Good thinking." Scully could see the pained expression on his face. "What's wrong Mulder?" "I don't know. So many times you've been put in danger because of me." "It's part of my job Mulder. I'm here to back you up and you me. And I, for one, wouldn't change a single moment." He looked at her, his eyes conveying all the things that his mouth couldn't. "Talk to a man like that Scully and you might find yourself getting kissed." "You've kissed me before Mulder." "On the cheek or on the forehead, what I am talking about is full on the lips." She smiled. "Finish your Vindaloo Agent Mulder." Sheppard Community Hospital, 3 am The guards that were posted let the nurse into the room. It was nothing out of the ordinary. He had come to replace the medication in the morphine pump. He looked down at her. Her blond hair was spread out on the white pillowcase. With shallow breaths, her chest rose and fell. Contentment covered her face as he stared at her. His fingertip stroked the soft pale skin of her once rosy cheeks. This caused her eyelids to flutter and open. At first she did not recognize him. "Cal?" she mouthed. "Yes, my love." "You should not have come here. It's too risky." "I know that, but I had to see you again." "I'm dying Cal." "I know and he will pay for that." "He?" "Fox Mulder. It's already begun." "Had you been reading the books I had given you?" "You know I have and it worked, Cal. I didn't believe it, but it actually did." "I will miss you, but in death you will become even more powerful." "I know and that is the only thing which brings me comfort." "Death is not the end, but merely the beginning." "I love you Cal. I will love you even after I die." "I know you do." Paulette Davies sucumbed to her injuries two hours later. Mulder's Apartment 5 AM "Who are you?" he asked, as the woman appeared to him once more in his dreams. With each passing night their contact grew closer and closer. Yet with the lessening proximity, her face remained elusive. "That's not important. Just lie back on the bed." "What are you going to do to me?" "Give you pleasure." She picked up the red candle which was resting on his nightstand and lit it. Her lips softly covered his. Her tongue started to snake down his exposed neck. Working her way down she gently sucked the skin of his flat stomach. Reaching his boxer shorts she pulled them down exposing his erection. At first she took little of him into her mouth, merely teasing the tip with her lips and tongue. The tip of her tongue leisurely lapped at the fleshy tower. Grabbing a handful of her sable hair, he forced her head down. Taking all of him in, her head began to bob like a pogo stick, his hips responding to her every move and her every whim. A soft groan shattered the silence in the room. It was replaced by a gasp as she poured the hot wax from the candle she held in her other hand onto his chest. He tossed her off. "Why did you do that?" he yelled. She looked up. It was no longer the woman he had been with but Scully. "Without pain you can never have pleasure. Don't you know that by now Fox?" the woman answered in Scully's voice. He was awakened by the sound of his alarm clock before he could answer the question. He got up, his hand running through his tossled hair. He looked into the bathroom mirror. He could see several small burns on his chest. Sheppard, North Carolina 2 Days Later He watched the small funeral from a distance of three yards through powerful binoculars. It took nearly two hours for the funeral party to disperse and he finally approached the small plot with a simple granite marker. He knelt down, a single red rose in his hand and gently he placed it on the ground. "Goodbye my love." Dickson and Carole Lundgren, the SAC on the taskforce were also watching. "Do you thinks it's him, Frank?" she asked while Dickson looked through binoculars. "I'm not sure, but Paulette Davies had no family with the exception of her mother." Lundgren slid the key into the ignition and pulled the car into reverse. He headed out toward the gate of the cemetery, which lead to the county road. At a discreet distance behind a large willow tree, they waited for the blond man to make his exit. A dark blue Toyota Camry stopped at the edge of the road waiting for the oncoming traffic to pass. Lundren turned the bureau-issued sedan onto the road about three car lengths behind. She grabbed her cell phone from the armrest. "This is SAC Carol Lundgren of the FBI. We are in pursuit of a murder suspect along county road 52. Requesting back up." "Back up is on its way Agent Lundgren. Is the suspect traveling north or south?" "Suspect is heading north, driving a dark blue Toyota Camry, Virginia plates, number 2-Queen-Ida-4-6-7" "Back up on its way." The Camry veered off the main road and onto a dirt one, its speed increasing. In a clearing, it came to a stop. Lundgren came to a stop. Grabbing her service revolver, she opened the car door. Dickson clutched her arm. "Let's radio in and wait for the back up." Ignoring him, she got out of the car and started to approach the back of the Camry. Disgusted, Dickson got out of the car, his pistol clenched in his right hand. He wasn't surprised by the tact she was taking at that moment. Ever since their days at Quantico, she had what could be kindly termed a large ego at best, outright conceit at its worst. She rounded and saw nobody in the passenger seat, by that time it was too late. A single gunshot penetrated the back of her head. "Lundgren," Dickson shouted running toward his downed partner. He looked around. He could see nobody and wondered from which direction the fatal shot had come. The distinct deafening sound of a trigger being cocked filled his ears. "Special Agent Dickson" a familiar voice from the past said in faux congeniality. "Are you going to kill me Perry?" "Yes, as a matter of fact. You *and* Mulder. Die knowing that," he said as he pulled trigger of the 45 hitting Dickson right between the eyes. Mulder's Apartment, Alexandria, Virginia The Next Morning Scully rapped on the door of Mulder's apartment and was alarmed when nobody answered. It was nearly 11:00 and he had not come into work. She reached into the pocket of her trenchcoat and fumbled for the key. Letting herself in, she noticed his sleeping form on the couch. Clad in underwear, she could observe the small wounds covering his chest. She walked towards him. Nudging him, he started to rouse. His eyelids fluttered. "Scully," he groaned. "Mulder I was concerned when you didn't show up at the office this morning." "I'm not feeling well." "What happened to your chest?" "I don't know." 'They look like burns." "I woke up with them this morning." He sat up. "Would you like a glass of water?" She laid her hand on his forehead and tried to determine if he was feverish. "You have no idea who did this to you?" she questioned as she looked through his cupboards for a clean glass. "The dream...," he muttered. "What?" she asked trying to hear him as she washed out a glass in the sink. "I had a dream last night." 'What kind of dream?" "I would rather not say." "Mulder, I've worked with you for six years, nothing shocks me. I don't care if you dreamt of Roman orgies in the reign of Caligula if it might provide an answer to what happened to you." "You're close." A slight grin began forming at the corner of his lips. "And?" she asked her voice beginning to display some impatience. "For the last five weeks I have had this dream. In it there is a woman. I try, but I cannot resist her. Last night she was giving me oral sex and poured candle wax over my chest. That is when I woke up. I haven't thought anything of them to be honest. I just thought the subject matter might have been prompted by my hearing about the Perry case again." "That would be a natural assumption to make." "But now, I'm not so sure." "Is the woman Paulette Davies, Mulder?" "I have never seen her face. But the hair is long and black. The dreams have intensified since the night of her death." "Are you thinking she is some sort of sucubus preying on you?" "I don't know Scully. All I know is that the dreams are very vivid. I can smell perfume, wax and taste cinnamon on her mouth." "Mulder I think I should stay with you today and tonight." "No, I want to go to Sheppard's Women's Prison." "Why?" "Paulette Davies was an avid reader, I would like to see what was being delivered from the book of the month club." Scully looked puzzled. "Alchemy and witchcraft," he stated plainly. She sighed. "Fine, but first you take some aspirin and a nap." "Yes Dr. Mom," he replied, settling back into a reclining position on the worn leather loveseat. Sheppard Women's Federal Detention Center, Sheppard, NC "We've cleared out her cell, but we still have all of her personal effects. Her mother has not bothered to pick them up yet," said the portly African American woman, who was the warden. They walked down a hallway towards a large storage room. They came to a stop, and she opened the door. Mulder and Scully followed closely behind her. Boxes were stored from floor to ceiling. "Sorry about our rather inefficient filing system," she said as she looked at the names written on each box in thick black marker. "Ah here we go." She pointed to a box that was at the top of a pile of three. "Agent Mulder would you mind getting this down for me? I'm not tall enough to reach it." "No problem," Mulder replied. He grabbed the box which was marked, Davies, Paulette G and placed it on the table to his right which was the only one that remained cleared. "What does the "G" stand for Mulder?" Scully queried. She asked knowing that it was not a particularly important question to be asking. She was merely curious. "Georgia." "I will be in my office if you two need anything else." The warden left the room, the soft click of the door shutting interrupted the quiet in the room only for a millisecond. Mulder took the small pocket knife which he always carried in the right hip pocket of his slacks. Carefully, he slit through the layers of tape which had been keeping the box sealed. Mulder's hands began to pull out the hardback books, a photograph taken of her and Perry which he tossed aside with a hiss of disgust and a ziplock beg which contained various newspaper clippings about her arrest and trial. Mulder picked up each book and verbally read the titles then flung them to his left. "1001 Days of Sodom by the Marquis de Sade. Big surprise huh, Scully?" She managed to give him a strained smile. "Several books by Aleister Crowley." He stopped, two of them caught his interest. 'Principles in Astral Projection and The Serpent and The Rainbow." He opened the front cover. They were personally inscribed. "To My Love, The walls of this prison cannot keep us apart, read the words I have given you and we can be together each and every night...to live....to love....to fly..... Eternally, Cal" "Astral projection, Scully." "That's insane, Mulder. There is absolutely no scientific evidence that gives that *any* credence whatsoever." "It's a common practice by shaman in many cultures." "It's the wishful thinking of people." "How else do you explain my injuries?" "I can't, but to say that it is due to astral projection is just....." Mulder started to laugh. "What is so funny? I want to find out who did this as much as you do Mulder..." "I was just laughing at this continual sense of deja vu in our lives. I have said it once and I will say it again..." "Let me guess, 'Scully how many times have I been wrong? Never!" "Have I?" "No, but one day you will be Mulder and I just hope that I am there to see it." "Let's go Princess Leia. We have some reading to do." "I know the significance. Well, the significance according to your theory of the one book, but the other?" "It was written by an anthropologist who lived among Amazon natives. He participated in some of their religious rituals using hullicinagetic drugs. One type of drug in fact, it is said to have the ability to allow you into the tripof another person taking it. A shared experience, shared at the exact same moment." "Mulder, that would only work if you too had been drugged. How would that happen? We've been under 24 hour FBI surveillance for the last week." "I don't know, Scully. All I know is that these dreams are the most vivid I have ever had in my life. I can feel her, I can smell her and taste her." "How would Paulette Davies have access to rare South American drugs in here? Her cell was checked daily, her mail inspected by prison authorities." Mulder smiled. For all of her sophistication, small shreds of an idealistic naivity would sometimes creep to the surface. "You should know that prison is not a hindrance to getting your hands on illicit substances. Where there is a will there is a way." "Well we can't ask for an exhumation based on this. We have no cause." Mulder's cell phone rang. "Mulder," he answered as Scully started to place the personal effects back into the box. Scully looked up and could see the expression covering Mulder's face. It looked as if he had been sucker punched in the gut. He pressed the button on the phone to disconnect the call without even saying goodbye to the person on the other end of the line. "Scully, do you think you could stay down here for the rest of the afternoon and see if there was a toxological run during her autopsy and the results, I need to get back to DC." "What's wrong?" "Frank Dickson is dead." Dickson Residence, Falls Church, VA 7 PM Mulder stood in front of the large red door of the townhouse that Frank and Bernadette Dickson had called home ever since their marriage. That was nearly 12 years ago and Mulder was the best man. He hesitated before knocking on the door. It wasn't everyday that he had to face the grieving wife of one of his best friends. Mustering up all of his courage, he lightly rapped on the door. The door opened. He could see the dark circles that had formed under her green eyes, which were bloodshot from crying and a lack of sleep. "Fox, please come in," she said quietly. Before he could enter the foyer, he wrapped his arms around her. "I just heard today. I am so sorry Bernie," he said his voice breaking. His hand stroked her hair. "Thank you Fox. You being here means so much." He walked towards the mantle. There were the typical family pictures one of which was him at their wedding. Frank was standing next to the beautiful young flutist at the Ken Cen who had become his wife on that day. Mulder stood smiling, his hair longer and neatly trimmed mustache above his lip. He thought about how young they had been and how the mustache had itched and he shaved it off the next day. Frank was the one who had told him that it really didn't suit him. "Where is Josh?" he asked as his eyes rested on the portrait of his Godson. He finally took a place on the couch next to her. "He is upstairs sleeping." "How is he doing?" "Better than I thought he would. I think he is just trying to be strong for me, be the man of the house, but I hear him crying in the night." "If you two need anything, day or night, don't hesistate...call me." "I will. You know being married to an FBI agent, you live knowing that one day you are going to get that call. When he's late, you wonder if he's been killed in the line of duty. You live with that, you know? You think that you might be able to handle that when and if the day comes. Nothing, nothing can prepare you for that day, that knock on the door when an AD comes to tell you, he's never coming home again." Mulder just sat quietly listening to her, his hands resting on his knees, his head slightly hung. "Will you do one thing for me Fox?" "You know I will Bernie." "Catch this son of a bitch." "We will." FBI Headquarters, Washington DC 7 PM She had expected to see Mulder when she walked into the office and became concerned when he wasn't there. She checked around his desk, lifted the receiver to his phone and punched in the access code for his voicemail. There was nothing. She turned to her right and noticed the yellow Post-It that was stuck on the left hand side of his computer monitor. She peeled it off with her right hand. "I have gone to see Frank's wife. Won't be coming back into the office today. If you have found anything, just stop by my apartment. Might run out to get some Thai. If I'm not there just use your key-FM." She picked up her briefcase, walked towards the door, shut off the lights and locked the door behind her. The parking garage was quiet and though she knew it was probably the safest one in the whole city of Washington DC, it made her feel uneasy. She wanted nothing more than to get into her car and drive to Mulder's. She dropped her keys and bent to pick them up. "Dammit," she muttered while clumsily fumbling with the key chain Mulder had given her on a birthday a few years back. Retrieving the keys, she unlocked the door, sat down in the driver's seat and sank into the soft upholstery. She tossed the briefcase on the other seat which contained within it the tox results from Paulette Davies autopsy. Mulder had been right. It took her nearly half the day and much time doing research on the Internet to find out what the substance was. It was so rare that the typical forensic pathologist would have never dreamed of looking for it. It was Banisteriopsis caapi to botanists and more commonly known as yage to tribes in South America. The drug was used as a means by Amazon shaman to gain entry into the spiritual world for the most common purpose of visiting loved ones in the spirit realm. The truly amazing thing which Scully found unbelievable was that it allowed one individual to have the same mild altering experience as another also under the influence at the same time. If Mulder had been drugged with it, the doses were no doubt small since massive consumption of the drug caused a variety of unpleasant side effects ranging from projectile vomiting to mucus streaming from the nose upon ingestion. It would, however, account for his feeling mildly nauseated the mornings after his "dreams." Sliding the key into the ignition she drove up the slight ramp and onto the street. Three blocks from the FBI she stopped at a light. She heard the distinct click behind her right ear. She wouldn't be making it to Mulder's after all. Baltimore, Maryland 9 PM His shirt was still wet and sticky. The smell of his own vomit filled his nostrils which was making him sick yet again. He heaved, but they were dry heaves which caused an incredible pain at the base of his throat and esphagus. The room was enveloped in darkness and the stench of impending death. He became aware of another presence in the room. The soft click of heels shattred the silence. "Why don't you just kill me and get it over with Perry?" Mulder spat, weak, yet still defiant. He laughed. "Foxy boy, you know that isn't my style. I wanna have some fun with you and so does Paulette." He walked toward Mulder. Mulder could feel the stinging sensation of Perry's hand making contact with his cheek. "You liked my girl sucking that puny Jewish dick of yours didn't you? Admit it." "Half-Jewish, you bastard." Perry slapped him again, but harder. "You're a fucking dirty kike if I say you are, got it?" "Go to hell." "Paulette always had a taste for the strange and arcane. It was part of her charm. And you are strange and arcane from what I hear Mulder. They say I'm nuts? At least I don't believe that little green men abducted my kid sister." "Greys, asshole." "Does it really matter? You've pissed away a brilliant career to chase after things that don't even exist, man. You must've *really* loved your sister. I loved my sister too, so much I fucked her when she was 13. Did you love Samantha like that?" "Fuck you, Perry." "Well you really aren't my type Fox, but thanks for the offer." "How did you do it? How did she do it?" "You have her books, the ones I gave her. You've figured it out already. Hard to believe such a smart boy broke the law when you searched my apartment all those years ago. That was one hellacious fuck-up, but to answer your question about how the drugs got into your system, I was the one who repaired the leaky faucet in apartment 42, Hagel Place in Alexandria Virginia. I've been your building's fix-it guy the last week. Damn man, you ever cook at home?" "The Chinese takeout guy knows me by name, you piece of shit." "It wasn't easy to find something to lace, but I managed. You do love your Irish Cream Coffeemate don't you? Figures. Fuckin chick coffee. Well, that is how." He could hear Perry walking to another side of the room. A flicker of light and the smell of sulfur filled the room. The room was becoming increasingly brighter with each candle Perry lit. The aching in his arms could now be explained. Mulder saw that he was sitting on the floor with his arms raised over him, handcuffed and attached to what looked like a pulley used for pulling an engine out of car. "Candle wax, I love the smell of it, the feel of it as it drips down your exposed skin. Burning, stinging, leaving the most beautiful little scars. Like droplets of rain that stain your skin forever upon contact. You like it too Mulder, or so I've been told. I have a surprise for you. Now don't go anywhere, OK?" From behind the door he could hear a muffled sound, the click of heals on the bare concrete floor. "Now she is my type," Perry remarked. Mulder looked up to see his partner gagged and handcuffed, wearing the leather outfit that Perry had bought at the lingerie shop in Annapolis. Her breasts were pushed up by the tight lacing of the garment, the leather looked like a second skin which barely covered her torso. "Now turn around so Foxy boy can see you, baby." She remained still. He raised his hand about to slap when Scully complied slowly with his demand. She turned. Mulder bowed his head in an effort to avert the image. "Fucking look at her Fox. DO IT!" Mulder looked up to see the small cheeks of her buttocks which were left exposed by the lacy thong she wore. "I made her your dream girl, Mulder. I didn't have time to get the black wig, but oh well, you can't have everything." A look of twisted rage covered his face. "I will kill you Perry." "You want to fuck her don't you, Mulder? Pound that cock into her over and over again until she bleeds. Until she screams in a fit of sheer pain and ecstacy." "FUCK YOU!" Mulder said calmly, his voice icy in an anger which went beyond even the boundaries of rage. "Oh she will a little later. Say bye bye dear," he said as he led Scully from behind grasping her cuffed wrists. "SCULLY," he screamed as he heard the door shut behind them. Scully was alone in the room. It was completely dark and though she wanted to scream, the gag prevented her from doing so. She had been led into the room only moments before, yet it seemed like it had been hours. She couldn't even hit the light on her watch since her arms were still bound by the handcuffs. The only sounds which she could hear were the beat of her heart and the shallow intake of her breath. "Do you know what it is like Dana?" She could hear coming from the opposite side of her. Nobody was in the room, of that she was positive. The voice was amplified, like that from a speaker in a movie theater. "To lose your soul mate? I do, and tonight you will know how that feels. You are probably wondering if I plan on killing you, don't you Dana? I was planning on it, but I won't. I want Mulder to die knowing that his soul mate is now mine; to do with what I will. Would you like for me to take off the gag?" She nodded, though she doubted that he could see her. "Of course you do," he stated, answering his own question. The door opened just a sliver. Looking into the dimly lit hallway, she tried to look and see if she could find Mulder. She deduced that they were probably in an abandoned warehouse or garage. She could feel his fingers untying the scarf which had been tied around her mouth and throat. She winced when she could feel strands of her hair being pulled out. "You think you will get away with this, don't you Perry?" she spat. "I know I will." "Sooner or later someone is going to figure out that we are missing and when that happens there will be Federal Officers swarming this shit hole." "I was very careful Dana. I knew you two were being watched by the feds, but here you are. I managed," he said sardonically. "All of you always fuck up somehow, someway." "Not me dear." Perry sighed. "This is an amusing discussion, but I think it's time to reunite you two lovebirds." "We aren't lovers." "Really? I have been watching you two. The ungodly hours of the morning you leave his place, your hair a mess, the tidy little blouses you wear not tucked in. I have even heard the sounds of your lovemaking through the thin walls of my apartment. Did you know I managed to get one next to him?" She was silent as she knew the words he spoke were true. "I wonder how the FBI would feel about two agents who so blatantly disobey their policy prohibiting two agents being romantically involved? I almost dropped a dime on you two, but I decided that Mulder merely being kicked out of the bureau and onto the street just wasn't enough, you know?" "Fuck you," she said bitterly, almost spitting out the words. "Maybe later," he said, leering at her. "Yes, definitely later, but I have other plans for you now. Get up, you bitch." The room was dark with the exception of the golden light cast by flickering candles. She gasped as she saw Mulder chained and hoisted into the air by the engine pulley. His vomit stained shirt had been removed and he was all but naked, save for the pair of worn gray boxer-briefs he wore. He twisted and turned. Convusling like a fish on a hook just pulled up from the water, futility fighting for its life. Below him was a large vat. Scully could not determine what it held, but she had her suspicions. Suddenly afraid for her partner, she spoke. "What is in the vat, Perry?" "Sulfuric acid." Her eyes darted to the ceiling to see if the pulley was securely attached. "What have you done to him?" "Nothing yet, just the side effects of the yage. It will pass in a few moments." He walked behind her, grasping her right breast in his hand. He squeezed it tight and it caused her to audibly gasp. "I am going to give you a choice, my wild Irish Rose." "What choice?" "Either we can fuck while I lower Mulder into the vat of acid slowly, perhaps stopping just as his legs are eaten away and the sheer pain will make him come to. He can then see me fucking you like he never has done. Or you can come into my world along with Mulder right now. Perhaps saving him." "Saving him how?" "Haven't you heard, Agent Scully. If you die in a dream, you die for real. You never wake up again." "That is just supersitition and urban legend." "Is it? Are you willing to take that chance?" "You are going to kill us anyway." "True, but once again are you willing to take that chance?" He walked toward a small table which held two filled glasses. "If you want me to drink that you will have to undo the cuffs." "Huh uh, I'm not that stupid Agent Scully. I'll just hold it to your lips." He held the glass to her lips with his left hand. It tasted fowl and bitter. With his right hand, he downed it as if it were a shot of fine sour mash whiskey. She could feel her legs go from underneath her body. Falling to the floor, she was wracked in convulsions and slipped into unconsciousness. Opening her eyes, she was in a darkened room which reeked of incense. She knew the smell. It was the type that Fr. McInnis used during the rituals of the mass, but this was not church. Unbuttoning her blazer, she unsnapped the strap on her holster and pulled the Smith and Wesson 44 calibre from its sheath. The silence was interrupted by the raunchy sound of guitar chords. The type of blues that they played in seedy smoke filled bars. The type with which women stripped and gyrated. She recognized the song it was from the CD that Perry had sent to the Violent Crime Unit. At a deafening volume, she could hear the raspy voice of Robert Plant singing: ***************************************************** Oh! Working from seven To eleven every night It really makes life a drag, I don't think that's right. I've really been the best, the best of fools. I did what I could yeah Because I love you baby, how I love you darlin', How I love you baby, my I love you girl, little girl. A-baby since I've been lovin' you yeah, I'm about to lose my worried mind, ahhh-yeah. Everybody tryin'a tell me that you didn't mean me no good. I've been tryin'. Lord! Let me tell ya, let me tell ya I really did the best I could. I've been, I've been working from seven A-to eleven every night, I said it kind of makes my life a drag, drag, drag,drag. Lord~yeah that ain't right now, now. Since I've been lovin' you~eah, I'm about to lose my worried mind-yeah. ***************************************************** With her weapon drawn and her heart beating fast, she opened one of 4 doors in the room. Hearing a crashing sound, she pulled the trigger. The screeching meows of a wounded cat filled her ears. "Shit," she muttered. The room was lined with dusty, cobweb-covered cupboards which she opened one by one. All were empty except for the last. She could feel the cold glass of a jar on her fingertips. Reaching into her other pocket she retrieved her small Mag-Lite. Flicking it on, she jumped back when she saw what was contained within. "Mulder," she uttered sadly, seeing his severed head floating in a sea of formaldihyde. His eyes opened causing her to scream. The room was instantaneously illuminated by a hundred pair of eyes, which were covering the wall staring at her. They were boring into her very soul. A fowl and putrid smell which Scully knew all to well filled her nostrils. It was emanating from the other room. Opening the door just slightly she could see the dangling bodies of women, both young and old. Some were newly dead, but others had been there for quite sometime. In the middle of the room she could see a man chained to a bed. Women were servicing him. One was giving him fellatio, while the other was stradled to his face as he held her hips with his hands. Sensing her presence, they turned around. Scully could see the rotting skin which was covering their faces. At that moment a chunk of graying flesh dropped from the jaw of one of them and onto the man lying beneath which Scully could now see. It was Mulder. Perry entered the room clad in leather. He looked like the poster boy for bondage. "So glad you could join us Dana." "This isn't real." "Mulder thinks it is. Look at how much he is enjoying my ladies right now. Back from the grave. Here they live on forever and ever. So as you can see, I never murdered anyone. I would like for you to meet my favorite girl...Paulette." A tall woman with flowing blond hair emerged from behind a rice paper screen which was to the right of the bed. She was clad in the exact leather outfit that Scully had been forced to wear. "Hello Dana," she said sweetly as she walked toward the bed. She pushed the others away. They desolved into clouds of dust and were gone. "What are you going to do to him?" she asked angrily. "Fuck his brains out, literally. He's quite the man, Dana. I envy you, but now he is mine." She turned to Mulder. "Fight this, Mulder. Dammit! Fight it! This isn't real!" He looked up from the pillow, his face devoid of expression. Paulette looked up at Scully, her face looking like a cat that had just consumed not one, but two canaries. His lips covered hers, her hand slowly ran up and down his exposed thigh. Her teeth grazed his lower lip and clasped down. A small dribble of blood began to run down his chin. "Wait a minute Lettie," Perry interrupted. "Yeah baby, what?" He walked over to the bed and knelt down. His face was only inches from Mulder's as he spoke: "This just isn't fair. It isn't right. Mulder, I know what you want. Fuckher, Mulder. Fuck her like you've always wanted to." Paulette turned to Scully. "I'll help you Dana. Give me your gun," she whispered. "Why should I trust you?" "You really don't have a choice, do you? Just do it." Reaching behind her back, Scully moved the gun and Paulette grabbed it. Perry put a pair of handcuffs into his hands. Rising, Mulder grabbed Scully by the shoulders and roughly tossed her onto the bed. "Do it Mulder! DO IT! RIP HER FUCKIN CLOTHES OFF! GIVE IT TO HER!" Perry screamed. Mulder yanked on the collar of her blouse, causing the buttons to pop. He grabbed her arms and pinned her down. His hands sought the soft flesh which was contained between her milky white thighs. Scully looked up at him. Her eyes were glistening with tears which were about to fall. "No Mulder, please," she pleaded. He looked deeply into her eyes. A single tear drop fell and landed on her cheek. Mulder rose from the bed, his face twisted in fury. He rounded and attacked Perry causing the both of them to fall on the hardwood floor beneath. He brought his fist up and it made sharp contact with Perry's jaw. Mulder punched him over and over until he became weak. Perry looked up at Paulette. "Help me Lettie." Paulette pointed the gun square at Perry's chest. Mulder quickly moved out of the way. "Not a chance. I rue the day I ever met you," she said icily. He tried to reason with her, but to no avail. "You love me Lettie. Now help me." "I did once. Not now! YOU SENTENCED ME TO HELL YOU BASTARD! NOW YOU ARE GOING TO DIE!" She pulled the trigger. Perry fell to the floor, blood seeping from the wound in his chest. Scully crawled off the bed. She embraced Mulder tightly. His head sank into the crook of her shoulder as he began to weep. Looking up, she could no longer see Perry or Paulette. They were no longer in the room. Once more she could smell the faint aroma of incense. They were no longer in the room, but sitting in a pew at St. Augustine's Church in Washington DC, just three blocks from their office. Scully's eyes rested on the image of a cruxified Christ gazing down from the wall behind the altar. She could swear He was smiling. Balimore, Maryland-The Next Morning She could feel the cold hard concrete on her cheek as she came to. She opened her eyes and could see the body of a man next to hers. It was Perry. On her hands and knees, she crawled toward him. Grabbing his wrist, she checked to see if he was dead or merely unconscious. She could not feel the faint throbbing of a pulse and quickly determined his fate. "Scully." She heard his faint voice, and it brought a smile to her mouth. "Mulder." She looked up to see him slowly regaining consciousness. "Get me down from here." She walked toward the wall which contained a lever that lowered the pulley from the ceiling. She started to crank it and then stopped. "Why did you stop Scully?" he asked in a hazed confusion. "There is a vat of acid below you. Do you have the strength to swing to your right?" "Yes," he answered weakly and began to swing as much as he could, ready to pass out from the intense pain in his shoulders. She lowered the chains. His feet came down and rested on the floor below. Racing over to him, her arms embraced him tightly. It was a kind of hold which says, "I will never let you go." Baltimore Mercy Memorial Hospital-The Next Morning "How are you feeling?" Scully asked as her head peeked through the door. "Like someone tried to draw and quarter me. I'm fine, but the doctor says I need some bed rest for the next two days." Concerned about her, he asked, "How are you?" "Fine. No more traces of the drug in my system." "How did Perry die?" "He suffered a heart attack while under the influence of the drug. Do you remember anything Mulder?" "Of the experience?" "Yes." "No, the last thing I remembered was passing out in my apartment." She nodded and felt relieved that he didn't recollect their horrible trip into the mind of Cal Perry. He took her hand into his. His thumb gently stroking it. "At least there is justice for Bernie, not the type she may have wanted, but at least now she knows the man who did this is probably burning in hell." "Bernie?" Scully asked. "Frank's wife, Bernadette. I want to go see her after I get out. You've never met my Godson, Josh, have you Scully?" A bemused look started to form in the corners of her mouth. "I didn't even know you had a Godson, Mulder." "How does an amusement park, cotton candy and hot dogs sound next weekend?" "Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful and calm." THE END