From: "mwinkle" <mwinkle@bootheel.net>
Date: Thu, 1 Mar 2001 17:58:53 -0600
Subject: x-files fan fiction
Source: direct

    Title - Elvis Presley and the Tropical Castle of Death
    Author - Dave Campbell
    Rating - PG
    Classification - Crossover
    Spoilers - None
    Keywords - Set early in Mulder's career working on the x-files with
Diana Fowley.  And of course, as the title implies, Elvis is featured
almost entirely in the begininng, but less as the story progresses.
    Summary - Tired of the burdonsome fame that has plagued him for
twenty years Elvis Presley has faked his death.  Wanting nothing more
than to live peacefully on his own personal remote tropical island.  But
when various deaths hinder Elvis' retirement Fox Mulder comes to
investigate.
August 18, 1977
Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee

     Only members of the family and inner 
circle attended the funeral of Elvis 
Presley.  None of them, however, heard the 
thump of a helicopter's propeller overhead.  
Elvis looked on with rapture inside the 
cockpit of the helicopter, pleased with 
himself.  Phase one was complete.  Now he 
could finally live his life without the 
burden of stardom.  He motioned to the pilot 
and they flew away unnoticed.

February 12, 1982
New York City

     John Burrows (the alias used by the 
king of rock n' roll Elvis Presley) walked 
into the office of Phillip & Brent 
determined to get what he wanted.  He waited 
only a moment at the reception desk before 
being ushered into the office of William 
Brent.
     "Mr. Burrows, I've found just place." 
Brent said.  "And, as it turns out we may be 
able to get it for a great deal less then we 
expected."
     John Burrows leaned back in his chair.  
"How much are they asking?"
     "One million dollars."
     Burrows' eyes lit with delight.  "One 
million dollars for a tropical island?"
     "Yes sir."
     "I take it your people have checked it 
thoroughly.  No inhabitants?  No sea 
monsters or anything like that?"
     "Our guys found nothing.  It's too good 
to be true!"
     John Burrows sat across from William 
Brent's desk and pondered the merits of 
their agreement.  It was too good to be 
true.  "I'll take it." he said.  The two men 
shook hands and began to complete the 
paperwork.  In less than an hour the million 
dollars had been wired to the account of 
Phillip & Brent.

March 3, 1982
Memphis, Tennessee

     Employees of Taylor Construction 
scurried about the large office building in 
downtown Memphis in hopes of getting 
everything needed for the morning's meeting 
ready.  In a rushed frenzy the best members 
of the Taylor staff entered a large 
boardroom.  There were fifteen of them each 
at their respective seats around the 
conference table.  A large man, presumably 
the supervisor, walked in with an air of 
authority and the uncanny ability to look 
each of the staff chosen for this very 
important job in the eye when he spoke.
     "As you all know," he said.  "Each of 
you have been selected based on your skill 
and dedication for a most important 
project."  He paused to let the weight of 
his word soak in.  "Our latest client, Mr. 
John Burrows, has employed our services to 
build on the Hawaiian Island, Sakinawa 
Atoll, a house.  Not just a house, but the 
house.  Mr. Burrows wants the works. 'A 
tropical castle' he said.  This could mean 
big bucks for us so lets, everyone, bust our 
asses." 
     Looking at the eager faces he asked, 
"Any questions?"
     A man with curly dark red hair raised 
his hand and said, "When does he want this 
finished?"
     Their supervisor grimaced and said, 
"Good question.  Mr. Burrows wants his 
mansion completed by the end of May."
     A collective gasp went around the room.

June 20, 1983
Smallville, Kansas

     In a small house surrounded by farmland 
there lives a man who uses the alias John 
Burrows.  Today he was in full karate 
uniform when a blue sedan pulled off the 
dusty road into the gravel drive.  He heard 
two car doors slam shut.  To wipe the sweat 
from his face, he wiped his forehead on his 
shirtsleeve and walked into the house.  
Through the back door, into the kitchen, 
through the living room, and into the foyer 
to open the front door.
     John Burrows looked at the two men who 
stood on his front step and, without a word, 
ushered them into his house.  He asked them 
for a drink.  They declined and he went into 
the kitchen to pour a glass of ice water to 
cool his body.
     He sat down opposite the two men in his 
living room and asked, "What can I do for 
you gentleman."
     Each looked as a drab bureaucrat does: 
short parted hair, drab suit, and of course, 
the earnest demeanor.  One had short blonde 
hair cut close to the scalp while the other 
had longer (not much longer) brown hair.  
The bureaucrat with the brown hair spoke 
first, "Mr. Burrows there have been problems 
with the construction."
     "No kidding?" he said sarcastically.  
"Hell, I wanted the damned thing finished 
this time last year!!!  You think I want to 
live in this shit hole?" he made a wave of 
his hands gesturing his house.
     The blonde spoke up, "Sir let me be 
frank with you."
     Mr. Burrows interrupted, "No I'll be 
Frank, you can be Bill."
     Much to the blonde man's disapproval 
his brown haired colleague showed signs of 
life and stifled a laugh.
     "Very funny, Mr. Burrows," the blonde 
said with impatience.  "If I could be 
serious for a moment.  Numerous workers 
whose job to complete your house in the 
Hawaiian Islands have disappeared.  I'm 
afraid Taylor is unwilling to finish the 
job.  They're pulling out."
     A flush of anger reddened his face as 
he protested.  "You can't do that.  I paid 
good money to see my house built.  Now you 
guys are telling me that you aren't going to 
finish what you started?"
     "That's right," the blonde said.  He 
stood, gathered his colleague and walked out 
the door.  Outside they sat down in the blue 
sedan and drove down the dusty road away 
from John Burrows' Kansas abode.

July 31, 1983
Sakinawa Atoll
Hawaiian Islands

     Burrows had taken his private jet to 
Hawaii, and upon his arrival, he chartered a 
private plane to the island that he had paid 
one million dollars for one year ago.  The 
small plane landed on the island's beach and 
John Burrows, along with a Taylor 
representative, hiked through the island's 
jungle.
     They hadn't traveled any farther than a 
mile into the dense vegetation than they had 
come across the uncompleted mansion.  It 
stood with great pride and dignity in 
defiance of the tropical elements.  In all 
its beauty, its majestic turrets loudly and 
proudly proclaimed royalty.
     John Burrows was pleased by what he saw 
and was now more than ever determined to see 
it finished.  He and the man from Taylor 
surveyed the sight for about an hour when, 
because of the representative's uneasiness 
and constant requests to leave they began to 
hike their way back to the plane. 
     When the small aircraft took off, 
Burrows knew that it would only be a matter 
of time before his castle was completed, no 
matter how much money he had to spend.  With 
a smile of satisfaction he pictured in his 
imagination his majestic playhouse in all 
its glory.  Finished.

August 8, 1983
Memphis, Tennessee

     Thomas Taylor, C.E.O. of Taylor 
Construction, sat at his desk in his plush 
top floor office.  Across from his desk sat 
the obstinate John Burrows.  "You want to 
make a deal?" Taylor asked.
     "Yes.  I'm willing to do anything to 
see to it that my house is finished.  Name 
your price."
     "Mr. Burrows, it's not that simple.  
You see several of our people turned up 
missing while working on your project.  
Missing, presumably dead.  We don't know 
what happened to them, nobody does."
     "What are you saying?" Borrows said.  
"That something out there is killing your 
people?"
     "I don't know, but I do know that that 
island is dangerous."
     "If it's so dangerous then why didn't 
anything happen to me last week when I was 
there?  Huh?"
     "Maybe that is why you bought it at 
such a low price.  Maybe there's something 
about that island that you don't know 
about." Taylor said.
     "One billion to finish it," Mr. Burrows 
said flatly.
     "I'm sorry Mr. Burrows but you'll have 
to find someone else."

July 31, 1989
Sakinawa Atoll
Hawaiian Islands

     His countenance relayed utter 
happiness.  It was finished.  After seven 
years, countless construction companies, and 
countless payoffs his castle had been 
completed.
     He was slightly worried about the 
disappearances and he wondered what had 
happened.  But he shrugged the thought 
aside, burying them deep in his conscience 
putting them all in the back of his mind.  
He wanted nothing to get in the way of him 
living in isolation away from everyone.  It 
had been twelve years since he faked his 
death and he had been sighted in numerous 
places.  He worried about being spotted and 
his scheme revealed, but not now.  Now, his 
house was completed and now he could hide 
from the world.
     Standing on the marble floor in the 
foyer of his tropical castle he marveled at 
the wondrous structure that he would spend 
the rest of his life in.  The furniture had 
been moved in and placed decoratively around 
the room.
     It took him three hours to see the 
whole house.  There were 424 rooms.  Ten 
bathrooms and five kitchens.  It was far 
more than he would ever need but he had 
never overcame vanity.

December 19, 1990
Sakinawa Atoll
Hawaiian Islands

     Numerous members of his daily staff had 
quit and left.  Why would they leave?  He 
paid them well.  They got everything they 
wanted.  He had seen nothing out of the 
ordinary and he hadn't mentioned the 
disappearance of the others before them.  
His pride kept him from admitting it to 
himself that he knew something was going on.
     It seemed that the staff rotated every 
week for fear of something. He didn't 
understand why until one day when he was 
lounging lazily in his back yard.  Sitting 
in his lounge chair he looked out at the 
dense foliage of the Hawaiian jungle when he 
thought he saw something out of the corner 
of his eye.  He shrugged it off and reclined 
back in his lounge chair, dismissing it 
completely

February 28, 1991
Sakinawa Atoll
Hawaiian Islands

     The monster stories had gotten so bad 
that every member of his staff had left, 
leaving him in his huge castle alone.  
However, he wasn't worried because he didn't 
believe there was a monster and he knew the 
next day a ship would arrive with employees 
to fill the void left by his current 
nonexistent staff.  
     CRASH!
     Elvis Presley sat abruptly up in his 
bed.  He grabbed the gun from under his 
pillow and shot to his feet.  He crept 
silently down the fleet of stair in hopes of 
finding the source of the sound.  
     A thunderous movement from a mighty 
beast rocked him sideways and he fell with a 
clatter down the flight of stairs.  It 
pounced on top of him, forcing him to 
struggle for a breath of air.  His gun had 
fallen from his loose grip and he groped in 
the darkness beneath the furry beast for his 
weapon.  The monster thrashed about, wildly 
attempting to kill his prey.
     Now as much as he didn't want them to 
be, and, as much as he knew them to be, the 
stories were true.  He knew why he couldn't 
keep a staff and why all those had 
disappeared.  There was a reason that he had 
bought a whole island in the middle of the 
ocean for almost nothing, and it was on top 
of him trying to kill him.  The weight of 
the grizzly beast shifted and the stairs 
creaked.  The two rolled against the railing 
of the stairs.  It gave way and Elvis and 
the mighty creature fell twenty feet onto 
the floor.
     Luckily the monster broke his fall and 
Elvis staggered to his feet.  It moaned in 
agony slowly trying to get to its feet.  In 
fear, Elvis dashed up the huge flight of 
stairs and to the top floor.  It was fate 
that saved him by building the attic in the 
huge house.  He pulled down the breakaway 
ladder and climbed to safety.  Inside the 
confines of his attic he pulled the ladder 
back into place and shut the trap door.  
     He picked up the receiver on the phone 
he had installed in the corner of the room 
and called for a plane.  If he lived through 
the night he was determined to get out of 
there.
     The next day an airplane landed on the 
beach and two men, the pilot and a rescuer 
from the U.S. Coast Guard hiked their way to 
the gigantic mansion of John Burrows.
     When the two men entered the huge front 
door to Elvis Presley's tropical castle the 
last thing they saw was the horrid image of 
the flailing beast.

March 17, 1991
Washington, D.C.

     Fox Mulder sat at his desk in the 
basement of the J. Edgar Hoover Building 
reviewing the mysterious disappearance of 
Michael Patterson, an airplane pilot, and 
Neil Lomax, a member of the U.S. Coast 
guard, during a rescue mission to Sakinawa 
Atoll to retrieve its sole inhabitant, John 
Burrows.
     Mulder looked up when his partner Diana 
Fowley entered the room with his mail. She 
laid it on his desk and smiled back and 
walked over to a chair opposite his desk 
with a smug look on her face.  Going through 
the stack were various items common in a 
person's everyday mail and the latest issue 
of Adult Video News.  Mulder's face reddened 
in embarrassment.
     "So what have you found?" she asked.
     Mulder's face returned to its normal 
color.  "Last night the U.S. Coast Guard 
received a distress call from a small 
Hawaiian Island called the Sakinawa Atoll.  
The islands sole inhabitant, John Burrows, 
placed the call.  He demanded immediate 
assistance." Mulder shrugged.  "He didn't 
say why.  Two men responded.  One an 
airplane pilot, the other worked for the 
coast guard.  Upon their arrival they were 
never heard from again."
     "What do you think?" Fowley asked.
     "Something's happening out there.  For 
instance, this John Burrows, who lives all 
by himself on this little island, hired a 
construction company to build him a house on 
the island and, guess what?"
     "What?"
     "During the course of the house's 
construction, five people turned up 
missing."
     "Who was the construction company?"
     "Taylor's the name I think, located in 
Memphis.  I've booked us a flight."

March 18, 1991
Memphis, Tennessee

     Mulder and Fowley sat across from 
Thomas Taylor.  They had both shown him 
their identification badges and asked to ask 
a few questions.  "Mr. Taylor, when John 
Burrows employed you in March of 1982 what 
did he want?" Mulder said.
     "He wanted us to build him a mansion, 
'a tropical castle'.  Mr. Burrows was very 
stubborn and insisted for a completion date 
only a few months later.  Now I don't have 
to tell you that is quite a big order.  To 
complete a house the size the man demanded 
would take at least a year.  But he demanded 
its completion as soon as possible.  So, I 
flew out most of my men and shipped out tons 
of supplies when some of them disappeared."
     "Vanished out of thin air?" Fowley 
asked.
     "Well, there was talk of animal 
attacks.  Some men quit right there on the 
spot.  Some of the workers claimed it was a 
monster that was wreaking all this havoc 
and, as you could imagine, everyone went 
crazy.  None of the work was ever finished.  
It got so bad I finally pulled the plug in 
June of '83."
     Fox Mulder stood up and shook the hand 
of Thomas Taylor.  "Thank you for your 
time," he said and walked out of his office.
     In the corridor he looked wearily at 
his partner and said, "Monsters killing 
workers on a deserted tropical island.  
Sounds intriguing, don't you think."
     "Fox, if all those people disappeared 
why wasn't something done about this 
before?" Fowley asked.
     "Most of those who disappeared were 
peasants and with the kind of wealth this 
Mr. Burrows is supposed to have, most 
authorities might have been discouraged.  I 
mean the only time an investigation was 
warranted was when someone from the Coast 
Guard disappeared."
     "So you think that this Burrows guy is 
doing the killing?"
     "I don't know, I think we should check 
out some of the workers on that sight 
first."
     Mulder obtained a list of those working 
on the Burrows home.  Some were no longer 
employed but most were still working in the 
building.  The first person they went to see 
was Chris Sampson.  He was tall and lanky 
with unruly black hair that hung in his 
eyes.  He smiled and let the agents into his 
office, eager to explain to them what he had 
seen while working on the Burrows project.
     "I understand you requested removal 
from the Burrrows project after being on the 
island for only a few days.  Can you tell me 
why?" Mulder asked.
     "This may sound strange, but you've 
probably already heard the rumors.  You can 
ask anybody working on the project and 
they'll tell you.  Everybody saw it, I saw 
it."
     "Saw what?" Fowley asked.
     "The monster.  It was huge and hairy, 
kinda looked like Bigfoot."
     "Is that why you wanted off the 
project?" Mulder asked.
     "Yes."
     Hearing all he needed to hear Mulder 
stood and thanked the man for his time and 
left his office with his beautiful partner.  
They continued to question everyone in the 
building who worked on the project, the 
major consensus being that a monster ran 
amok on the island and was responsible for 
the disappearances on Sakinawa Atoll.
     The day had winded to an end when 
Mulder and Fowley sat in their motel room.  
"The only way we're going to find out what 
is going on is to go and take a look at that 
island ourselves."
     "Booked a flight?" Fowley asked.
     "Yeah."
     "It won't be dangerous?"
     Mulder smiled and said, "I laugh in the 
face of danger."  He moved in closer and 
kissed her.
     "What would the FBI do if they knew two 
of their agents were sleeping together?" 
Fowley asked.
     Mulder paused thoughtfully and said, "I 
don't know." 

March 25, 1991
Sakinawa Atoll
Hawaiian Islands

     Mulder helped his partner Diana Fowley 
out of the plane and instructed the pilot to 
stay put and that they plan to take off 
again in about three hours.  Mulder and 
Fowley dressed appropriately in hiking 
boots, jeans, and short sleeved shirts.  
They each had a backpack with various items 
while a gun rested on their hips.
     Using a map that had been given to them 
at the Taylor office in Memphis they 
navigated through the jungle of the island 
and shortly found the house of John Burrows.  
It was just as the employees of Taylor said 
it would be.  Fit for a king, Mulder was 
astonished by the size of the magnificent 
house.
     Fowley smiled and grabbed him by the 
arm.  "When are you gonna buy me a house 
like this?"
     "November 18, 2000." Mulder said 
flatly.
     Approaching the two big doors Mulder 
advised his partner, lover, to stay back.  
He opened the big door with his gun aimed.  
In the foyer on the marble floor where two 
mutilated dead bodies.  They looked as if 
something had eaten them alive and left the 
remains of their bodies as leftovers for 
later.  Moving them from the doorway he 
hoped they were the last bodies in the 
house.
     He poked his head out the huge door and 
looked at his partner.  His voice was no 
longer filled with the confidence it had 
boasted a few minutes before.  It was now 
laced with fear and concern when he told his 
girlfriend to, "Stay put outside.  Anything 
that moves, shoot it.  Understand?"  She 
shook her head and he continued on into the 
house.
     Climbing the stairs he noticed the 
shattered wood railing that had been busted.  
It compared with the rest of the house.  It 
was all a mess.  Shattered vases, broken 
furniture, and busted windows littered the 
floor of the mansion.
     Mulder continued his ascent up the 
stairs.  It seemed that with each step his 
heart beat a little faster and fear 
collected and coalesced in the bottom of his 
stomach.  He had reached the top of the 
flight of stairs when shots rained down from 
above.  Bracing the side of the wall he 
yelled, "Federal agent, I'm armed!"
     Slowly the trap door and the breakaway 
ladder of the attic were lowered and he saw 
the face of John Burrows.  Quickly Mulder 
climbed the ladder and sat in the security 
of the attic as Burrows shut the door.  
Mulder looked at the man in awed 
recognition.
     "All right.  No doubt you've figured it 
out by now, I'm Elvis Presley."
     Mulder fumbled his words and said, "I 
knew it wasn't true."
     "Yeah, kid.  Fame got to me.  All I 
wanted was to quit and live a quite life.  I 
wanted to retire.  But it seemed that 
everywhere I went someone would harass me.  
I hated it.  I thought long and hard and 
decided to end it all.  I was careful and 
took painstaking steps to insure my success.  
I gained tons of weight in hopes to change 
my appearance and then faked my death.  
After that I grew a beard to hide my face 
and worked my ass off, literally, to lose 
the weight I'd gained.  Then I got a good 
deal on this island.  Bought it pretty 
cheap.  Should've known then that there was 
a reason nobody wanted it.  I had trouble 
getting it done but I got my house built and 
moved in.  Then everyone started to leave.  
They all told monster stories.  I didn't 
believe them, then I saw it and I knew the 
reason I couldn't keep any help around here.  
I should've left but I was too stubborn.  
Now I've got blood on my hands.  All I want 
now is to leave this godforsaken place."
     "I'll get you out of here. Come on."
     "I don't know where he is," Elvis said. 
"But he could be anywhere.  Keep an eye 
out."
     When they got down from the attic they 
were attacked.  Up against two men the 
monster seemed a little disoriented.  Mulder 
kept a firm grip on his gun but didn't fire 
in fear of hitting Elvis.  The two men 
wrestled with the beast, desperately 
fighting their way to freedom.  Elvis had 
broken away giving Mulder his chance.  He 
shot blindly at the monster and hit it in 
the center of the chest.  It fell as they 
began to flee down the steps.
     When they stood in the foyer Mulder 
ushered Elvis outside with his waiting 
partner Fowley.  The beast lingered slowly 
down the stairs.  Mulder raised his gun and 
fired.  The animal jerked back and continued 
its course.  Mulder fired again.  It hit the 
monster with the same effect.  It had taken 
its last step down the stairs when Mulder 
turned to the two huge doors behind him.  He 
began to pull at them.  They wouldn't budge.  
The beast moved in closer and, in one last 
plea to save his life, Mulder fired his last 
shot, hitting the beast in the stomach.  It 
lurched and fell.  Mulder sidestepped and 
let the dead animal body fall through the 
front doors.  Running out the shattered 
doors he jogged through the forest and onto 
the beach where the plane waited.  
     Sitting with Diana, Elvis, and the 
pilot he was safe in the aircraft.

March 25, 1991
Honolulu International Airport

     Mulder and Fowley boarded the last 
plane in route to Washington, D.C.  They 
were satisfied with the result and were 
ready to get back home.  When Elvis promised 
not to go back to his mansion, Mulder 
promised not to tell anyone his secret and, 
reluctantly, let him be on his way.  He 
hadn't committed a crime and they couldn't 
hold him long for nothing. 

April 2, 1991
Grahamn, Missouri

     The citizens of Grahamn welcomed the 
arrival of John Burrows, eagerly helping him 
move into his new house.  None of them knew 
his secret and he hoped to live without 
distraction in this small little town for 
the rest of his life.