From: rhonddal@aol.com (RhonddaL)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: THE HUNT (1/?)
Date: 12 Dec 1995 16:36:35 -0500


  Though far from my first writing effort, this IS my first attempt at
X-Files fan fiction. PLEASE, please, please send me your responses to
this.  Comments, criticisms, flames and David Duchovny's home address
accepted. Though I reserve the right to ignore the flames.<G>
     This work is PG-13, due to violence and mild expletives. There is NO
M&S romance, and no UST either.  This is simply an X-File.

   DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and all characters associated with
the X-Files are the property of Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen productions.
 I took them off the shelf, I played with them for a while then I put them
back right where I found them.  Please don't sue me for using them as all
I own is this Computer and my Dog.  Without my computer I can't read every
one elses' fan fiction.  However timesharing arrangements on the dog can
be arranged.


                The Hunt
                 By Rhondda Lake
                (Part 1/?)

2 miles North of Woading, Arkansas
Just over the Missouri state line
October 3
7:30 pm

     The sunset was not entirely invisible in the wood.  It painted
everything with a soft umber glow so that the just-turning leaves seemed
more into the end of their autumn splendor.  Patrick always loved the wood
at this time.  He whistled softly and Gump bounded at him from the right,
his paws making swooshing sounds as he moved through the underbrush and
sparse fallen leaves.  The beagle jumped up and steadied himself with one
paw on Patrick's leg, whining softly in the back of his throat.
     "What's wrong Gump?  Get a whiff a' coon?"  Patrick bent slightly to
scratch the dog affectionately, shifting his rifle  slightly on his
shoulder as he did so.
     It wasn't hunting season yet, according to state law, but that never
bothered Patrick Murphy before.  He'd been hunting these woods since he
was twelve. Rumors of a pack of wolves roaming the area didn't scare him
none either. Four men dead... that made any wolves fair game didn't it?
And if anyone knew where to take pelts to be sold it was Patrick. He knew
every market for wild game meat and hides that was.  So far today however
he had only managed to bag two squirrels and a rabbit. A piss poor haul
for a day's work.
     Patrick continued walking, his earlier whistle for Gump sliding into
a flat randition of a country reel. Gump never minded, he was tone def
anyway.
     Gump didn't stop his whining as they moved and Patrick frowned with
annoyance, looking back at his four footed companion.  He stopped
whistling.  "Don't go telling me you turned into one of them music
ee-fish-ee-an-nodos." 
     Gump didn't mind his master.  The dog kept looking back the way they
had come, head down, tail tucked and hackles raised in the waning light.
     Pat unslung his rifle  and brought it to the ready, sighting down the
deer path.  "You see somethin' boy? Maybe make this day worth while after
all?"
     Gump was shaking now, and Patrick  looked to his faithful friend with
worry.  Hell, nothing scared ol' Gump, not even that Grizzly they'd faced
down two years ago.  What the Hell...
     Then he saw them.  At first only the faint red glowing spots. odd
little fire flies moving low to the ground.  The legendary will-o-wisps. 
Then his mind clicked on what they were.  EYES!  A dozen pair of glowing
red eyes bounding through the trees.
     "Sweet Mary mother of God!" Patrick hissed half as plea half as
prayer.  He took aim between two of the bounding eyes and fired.  None of
them even slowed down.  Then he could see them more clearly in the
gathering gloom.  Dogs, huge... or Wolves.  But they made no sound. No
baying at the scent, no whining, not even the comforting shooshing Gump
had made through the underbrush.  Something hissed by Patrick's ear and he
turned to see an arrow embedded in the tree next to him.
     "Oh SHIT! Gump RUN!" Patrick Murphy clutched his rifle before him as
a talisman as he ran.  For the hounds of Hell were on his trail...



J. Edger Hoover Building
Washington. D.C.
October 5
8:05 am

     Special Agent Dana Scully managed to open the door to the basement
office in a masterful stroke of coordination.  It was truly a feat as she
was balancing an armload of paperwork in one arm,  three books in the
other,  her briefcase and a white paper bag in her hand, and a paper cup
of coffee held by the rim in her teeth.  She managed to get inside and
plot the papers, books and briefcase on the desk before transferring the
coffee to a safer place... her hand.
     "Ever think of taking that act on the road Scully?"
     She glared at her partner across the desk.  Fox mulder was smiling
insolently at her from his seat, the only thing in his hands were his
reading glasses, which he must have just removed judging by the open file
before him.
     "Well I didn't see you getting up to help Mulder."
     "You seemed to be doing quite well on your own.  I don't want you
saying I'm some sort of sexist who won't let a liberated woman handle her
own problems.  Besides... I was enjoying the show." He kept that annoying
lopsided grin pasted to his face.
     Scully didn't even bother to glare.  She simply sat down, opened the
paper bag and revealed a croissant, it's fresh baked aroma filling the
room even over the scent of old paper, discarded sunflower seed shells and
much staler coffee then her own.  She waved it in front of Mulder before
taking a big bite and closing her eyes in enjoyment.
     "I had bought two to share." She mumbled around a mouth full of
pastry, "Mmmm... raspberry jelly filling." She swallowed and flashed a
mischievous smile at the man across from her. "But now I think I'll keep
them both." She took another bite with great relish.
     Mulder licked his lips. "Would it help if I apologized profusely and
promised to carry your book after class?" Humor danced in his eyes.
     "No... but you can buy me a sandwich for lunch." She tossed the bag
at him.
     He scooped it out of mid air and tore into it, coming up with the
second croissant.  After taking a bite he passed the file he had been
reading over to her.
     "State police in Arkansas and Missouri called us on this one.  Five
dead so far.  The first four in Arkansas but the last one, while a
resident of thriving Woading Arkansas was killed and found not far over
the Missouri state line, making it federal."
     Dana briefly scanned the reports. "Each victim appeared to be savaged
by some sort of animal, feral dogs or wolves most likely.  Mulder isn't
this a problem for the States Games Commissions or Animal Control? It's
hardly an X-File."
     "Read over the files on victims two and five." He stated patiently as
he picked up her coffee and sipped at it, wincing at the cream in it.
     She smiled but refrained from saying aloud 'that will teach you'
before reading on.
     "Both victims were shot in the heart with arrows." A little crease
formed between her eyebrows.
     "Someone's been having archery practice with live targets." 
     She frowned more as she went on. "Both arrows are identical... Mulder
why would they have silver barbs? That doesn't make any sense, unless
someone out there is hunting werewolves or vampires." She gave him a look
that as clear as words pleaded 'Please tell me that's not what you're
thinking.'
     "No... from the condition of these bodies I'd say these men were the
Victims of Werewolves or vampires." He deadpaned.  "There have also been
numerous reports of fox fire in the area.  RED fox fire.  The locals call
the sightings will-o-wisps."
     "That's impossible.  Fox fire is a natural chemical reaction that
occurs when swamp gasses ignite.  The flames are usually greenish or blue,
NOT red.  And I don't see any mention of a swamp in these reports."
      Mulder had his grin back as he finished off his Croissant. "That's
because there isn't any swamps in the Ozarks. Just lots of forests. My
interest, Scully, is piqued.""
     Scully sighed and finished her breakfast. "You wouldn't be showing me
all this unless it's cleared Skinner. What time does our flight leave?"
     "Why Scully, I thought you'd never ask."

===========================================================================

From: rhonddal@aol.com (RhonddaL)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: THE HUNT (2/?)
Date: 12 Dec 1995 18:56:58 -0500


Disclaimer attached to part 1.

            THE HUNT
            by Rhondda Lake
            Part (2/?)
Woading, Arkansas
October 5
5pm

     Sheriff Tomas Green eyed the agents before him carefully. Hell even
before they'd introduced themselves and flashed their IDs he could smell
G-men on them.
      The man was a tall one, athletic looking.  His dark hair was short
and combed neatly other then a shock of hair that fell over the middle of
his forehead, and his green eyes met the Sheriff's unwaveringly.  His suit
looked like it was issued off a government rack somewhere... except for
his tie.  That was definitely NOT standard issue, and Tom Green smiled to
himself, there was a streak of rebel in any man who would wear a purple
tie covered in yellow polka dots.
      The woman was a tiny thing, and pretty as a May morning with red
hair and pale skin that would let her blend in with the folk around here
with no problem if she were not also in a suit.  Not that he thought for
one minute that she was some pretty little ornament though, she looked
sharper then the proverbial tack, and she had a no nonsense look about her
that made Tom wonder how these two got hooked up as partners.  They seemed
opposites in more then height and sex... and Tom Green, who was no man's
fool, figured THAT was why they were partners.  What one missed the other
wouldn't.  He was impressed.
     Well there isn't much I can tell you besides what was in my reports. 
I put everything down, no matter how silly it seemed at the time." He
coughed into his hand.
     "Like reports of Fox Fire in the area." The woman, Agent Scully,
smiled slightly.
     "Yah, well Mrs. Kelly keeps sayin' the wee folk are behind the
killings.  I DIDN'T put that down.  The Fox Fire I added because we have
five reliable witnesses to it besides Mrs. Kelly."
     The man, Mulder, actually grinned. "Someone thinks leprechauns with
an attitude did this? Gee Scully, and you thought *I* watched too many B
movies."
     Scully shot Mulder a look that Tom Green rightly assumed he must get
a lot of.
     "Can I examine the body of the last victim?" The woman's request
surprised Tom a bit but he hid it and shrugged. 
     "Sure thing.  His momma won't be burying him till Saturday so he's in
the morgue.  Not much the funeral director can do with him, so it has to
be closed casket. Do you want to see the dog too?"
     "The report said the dog was found a half mile from the man's body. 
I was meaning to ask... why do you think the killer would go after the
dog? It wasn't like it could be a witness." Agent Mulder phrased the
question cautiously and seemed truly interested in Green's answer.
     "They didn't. No arrow in the dog.  The other dogs got Gump.  I'd a
said they were scavengers who came along after poor Patrick was killed...
but Jake... the coroner, said he was still kickin' when the dogs tore into
'em.  If some crazy is usin a pack a' dogs to hunt people, which is my
personal suspicion here, then this nut's dogs got carried away in the
excitement and went after Gump even after they brought down Pat." The
Sheriff pulled on a corduroy jacket and motioned for the door.
     "You folks got a place to stay?"
     "Not yet.  We wanted to check in with you first then find a hotel,"
Mulder announced.  Tom noticed his partner wince slightly and managed to
choke back a chuckle.  He could tell by her reaction that this Mulder guy
had a penchant for picking bad lodgings.
     "Well there's a Motel 6 on the edge of town... but you'd be better
off at Maddie's.  Maddie's Bed and Breakfast is just as reasonable and has
a better atmosphere if you know what I mean."
     Before Mulder could say anything Scully chimed in.  "That sounds
wonderful, if it's not booked up."
     "Mam," Tom took off his wide brimed sheriff's hat to run a hand over
his bald pate before replacing it, "this here is Woading, Arkansas.  Have
you ever even HEARD of Woading Arkansas before this little mess got
dropped into your lap?" He shook his head a grinned, "I'd be more
surprised if you two weren't the only guests at Maddie's."

     The sheriff led them to a quaint little victorian house with only a
small wooden signpost out front to declare: "Maddie's Bed and Breakfast."
     Once inside it was plain why Tomas Green had recommended the place. 
Oh it was homey alright, and clean and not at all like a sterile hotel...
but that was not the reason.  Maddie came to greet them when they walked
in to the jingling of the bell attached to the inside of the door.  She
was wiping her hands on an old fashioned apron that she wore over jeans
and a sweat shirt.  She was a slightly younger, more feminine version of
the Sheriff.  Scully had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.  They had
been neatly maneuvered... and not for the kick back she had originally
suspected.
   
     "Hello there." The tall woman was in her mid forties and her brown
hair was liberally streaked with grey, but the effect did not age her so
much as lend her a certain dignity. "I'm Maddie Green." She offered her
now dry hand to Scully first.
     "I guessed that the minute I saw you."  Scully shook the offered
hand. "I'm Special Agent Dana Scully."
     "Agent Mulder." Mulder shook her hand in turn.
     "Maddie honey, these folks are here need some rooms."
     "Here to try and catch the ones who killed those people? Well then,
I'll make sure I don't disturb you.  Rate is thirty dollars a night per
bed.  Breakfast is included and it is NOT buffet, you pick what you'd like
from the menu before turning in and I'll have it for you by 8 in the
morning."
     "That will be fine." Mulder smiled. "Just show us to our rooms and we
can get to work."

     In less then half an hour they were standing in the cinder block
building that housed the morgue of Woading.  The town itself was small,
with a population of about six hundred or so and it had a populace that
was almost cliched Ozark. The coroner, however, was not cliched.
     Jake Masterson was a heavy set black man who greeted them with a hand
shake and an unlit cigar clamped in his teeth. He led them to the wall
lined with ten metal doors, each leading to  a freezer compartment.  He
chose the center one in the second row and pulled it out.  The body was
covered with the standard pristine white sheet.  He pulled it down to
reveal a ghastly amount of damage.  The late Patrick Murphy barely had a
face left and some animal had definitely been gnawing on him, everywhere.
     "I read your autopsy report Dr. Masterson, would you mind if I had a
look anyway?" Scully bent too examine the ragged mess that had once been
the man's throat.
     "No skin off my nose. Have fun.  I didn't. Maybe you could make some
sense out of the second perforation found here." He pointed to the area
over the man's heart where two neat holes stood out against the pale
flesh.  The one puncturing the right ventricle was the arrow.  The police
have that in their evidence locker." He nodded to Sheriff Green. "But this
one is NOT the same.  It wasn't an arrow, or a tooth.  Something man made
and precise I'd say.  No knife either, more like a spike.  That one is
clear into the left ventricle."
     Mulder watched Scully examine the wound in question with interest.
"Were there similar wounds on the other victims?" He asked.
     "On Jack O'Shay there was. I have the coroners report out and ready
for you. It's all documented.  After him we started checking all the
mauling victims.  All had it.  That's when we exhumed the body of Thom
Gallagher, the first victim. My predecessor passed that one over as a
tooth puncture though.  It was there alright.  But a dog's tooth can't
puncture like that... not without leaving marks from it's other teeth
around it as well, and never straight down like that."
     "So I see." Scully had pulled on a pair of rubber surgical gloves and
now poked at the puncture. "This is close to the sternum and at a slight
angle to the right.  Not only would a tooth mark have left other marks but
at that angle the dog would have been biting from the right side of the
prone body.  It would either have done more damage ripping back out or
gotten caught on the bone.  The only way it wouldn't rip is if the tooth
were pulled loose, yet you found no evidence of that."

===========================================================================

From: rhonddal@aol.com (RhonddaL)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: THE HUNT (3/?)
Date: 12 Dec 1995 22:47:24 -0500


    I really need to know how you guys like this. Good or bad. 

The standard Disclaimer is attached to part 1.

           THE HUNT
          by Rhondda Lake
          (Part 3/?)

     "Well Scully, I'll let you have your fun here.  Sheriff Green... I
wouldn't mind talking to this Mrs. Kelly you mentioned." Mulder's gaze on
Green was steady.
     The Sheriff shrugged. "Sure thing. Just keep in mind Agnes Kelly is
eighty four and was raised on her own granny's stories.  I don't see where
talkin to her will get you anywhere."
     "She's on the list of people who saw the Fox Fire phenomenon." Mulder
pointed out.
     "A laser scope." Scully looked up from the body. "Could the killer
have used a laser scope hooked to his bow?"
     "Possible... but it would have to be pretty damn bright.  I thought
those things had a tight focused beam, pinpoint like. The witnesses all
mentioned seeing at least a dozen balls of Fox Fire... so it would take
this from a lone killer to a cult or something if it IS laser scopes." The
Sheriff pulled at his bottom lip, worry on his face.

     Sheriff Green sat on an old grey sofa with a cup of tea in one hand
as he watched Mulder Interview Agnes Kelly.  Mrs. Kelly's living room was
cluttered with a lifetime's collection of knick-knacks and antiques.  Mrs.
Kelly herself was something of an antique as well... but not one of those
fragile things one is afraid to touch.  No Mrs. Kelly looked like she
could handle anything life tossed at her. Earthy, it was the only word for
her.  She looked every one of her eighty four years though.  Her face was
a wrinkled and as welcoming as an old apple, steel grey hair drawn back in
a loose bun, her bright blue eyes dancing in merriment at the prospects of
guests... and an audience.  She wore a loose black dress that called to
mind a stereotypical italian grandmother... which was silly as Mrs. Kelly
was as Irish as the Blarney Stone. She bustled about with a quickness that
belied her years, and she refused to speak until both 'boys' were seated
and had some hot tea.
     Mulder had weathered Mrs. Kelly's grandmotherly charm quite well.  He
even sipped at the tea in the ridiculous bone china cup she'd givin him.
Green gave him points for that.  Mulder didn't look like the Herb tea
type.
     "Mrs. Kelly I'm here to ask you about the lights you saw on November
twentieth." Agent Mulder put his tea down and leaned forward in the
antique winged chair he was perched in, his arms resting on his knees ,
all his attention plainly centered on the old woman before him.
     "The Will-O-Wisps you mean." She smiled and her face puckered up
delightfully around the expression. "I know HE think's I'm crazy." She
pointed an accusing finger at the Sheriff. "But I have the Sight you know.
I see something of the open minded in you boy. That's good.  Don't loose
that.  Possibilities are endless for those who don't go through life with
blinders on. Once those blinders are up though... what you don't see can
kill ya." She nodded.
      "The Sight... you mean you are psychic?" Mulder looked like he was
soaking this up.  Green just shook his head and sipped some more mint tea.
     "Naaa boy.  I can't see the future, or bend spoons, or read you mind
or none of that stuff... though there are those who can. I just SEE more
then most people." She winked at Mulder and Green stifled another chuckle.
     "I saw the Will-O-Wisps when I was coming home from the market.  My
joints were hurting that night and I'd run out of my muscle rub. Damn, but
Meghan's ointment worked mighty fine too." She shook her head.
     "Meghan Thomas, the third victim?" Mulder connected. "The
herbologist?"
     Mrs. Kelly nodded. "She studied the old ways. She knew her way around
the plants and the healin. I'll miss her. She's with God now... but she
was taken too young... and too violent.  I want you to try and stop the
one who did this."
     "I intend to try mam.  About the lights..." Mulder gestured for her
to continue.
     "Well I was coming home with some store bought muscle rub when I
looked down the end of North street. It's a dead end that buts right up to
the wood. An I seen em. I took real careful count too. Eleven. There were
eleven balls of red floating light. They just bobbed around, like they was
waitin for something. I knew what they was waitin for... so I moved home
as fast as these old legs can take me."
     "And what were they waiting for?" Mulder smiled at her, but it was
not in the least condescending.
     "The Hunter.  Some damn fools gone and called up the Hunt. Probably
for revenge.  But ya cant just call up the Wild Hunt, let them taste blood
and ask them to go back. No. The Hunter and his Pack like the taste of
blood. Like human prey. We fear the best you know. And there is no
better... no smarter game then humans."
     "Are you saying someone tried to raise a demon?"
     "No Boy! Not a Demon.  The Pack and the Hunter are of the Tuatha de
Dannan. They are not truly evil, they just ARE.  They are a force of
nature.  Our ancestors used to worship them, when the hunt went badly they
would offer a sacrifice to the Hunter.  Every culture has a variation of
him... it's just that here... with all the Irish, Welsh and Scots about...
the Celtic version got called on."
     "How many people in Woading would you say know these stories?" Mulder
persisted.
     "I'd say seven out of ten.  We're close to our roots here.  Walk into
any pub on a Saturday night and you'll hear the old tunes... on the
dulcimer, or the harp... or even on those electric gee-tars. I think
that's part of what ties them here, and what made calling them so easy."
     Mulder gave her a lopsided smile meant to charm. "And what would go
into calling them?"
     Green almost choked on his tea, but Mulder held up a hand to silence
him. Mrs. Kelly shot the Sheriff a dirty look but turned to Mulder to
return the smile. "A vessel for the Huntsman, leaves from the trees here
abouts mixed with earth made to mud by the caster's blood and a pair of
antlers from a stag found dead by natures own hand. That and an
incantation... but I'm a lorekeeper, not a witch, so I don't know the
words."
     "Ok, a vessel for the Huntsman... what would that be?"
     "A person of course... a body for the Huntsman to reside in when he
is on the Hunt."

===========================================================================

From: rhonddal@aol.com (RhonddaL)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: THE HUNT (4/?)
Date: 13 Dec 1995 09:02:13 -0500


     Though far from my first writing effort, this IS my first attempt at
X-Files fan fiction. PLEASE, please, please send me your responses to
this.  Comments, criticisms, flames and David Duchovny's home address
accepted. Though I reserve the right to ignore the flames.<G>
     This work is PG-13, due to violence and mild expletives. There is NO
M&S romance, and no UST either.  This is simply an X-File.

   DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and all characters associated with
the X-Files are the property of Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen productions.
 I took them off the shelf, I played with them for a while then I put them
back right where I found them.  Please don't sue me for using them as all
I own is this Computer and my Dog.  Without my computer I can't read every
one elses' fan fiction.  However timesharing arrangements on the dog can
be arranged.


                The Hunt
                 By Rhondda Lake
                (Part 4/?)

     Mulder opened a file he'd had tucked by his side throughout the
interview. "Mrs. Kelly, I want to show you a picture of the body of Jack
O'Shay, the second victim, as he was found. It's not pretty, but something
about it bothers me and I think you might be able to clear it up for me. 
Would you be willing to take a look?"
     Mrs. Kelly frowned and put down her own tea cup. He slowly held out a
hand lined with age and showing swollen joints. Mulder passed her the
photo.
     Agnes paled visably at the sight.  Even the black and white bleaching
the scene of the horror of color did not disguise the gruesome nature of
his death.
     "Mrs. Kelly... Mr. O'Shay's jacket is turned inside out and worn
backwards.  Do you know why this was done?"
    The old woman nodded, shaken. "To ward off the Tuatha du Dannan, the
Telwyth Tig, the Fair folk by whatever name ya give em. To wear your coat
inside out is supposed to confuse them.  He was tryin to protect himself
from what he saw commin."
     Mrs. Kelly handed the picture back and stood up. She moved around her
chair to a roll top desk and pulled out a side drawer. Taking something
out she came back to stand before Mulder holding her hand out. "Take this
boy.  It will make an old woman feel better if ya have it."
     Mulder held out his hand with a puzzled look that did not entirely
clear when she dropped three heavy metallic rocks in his hand.
     "Raw iron. Right from the earth. Unforged by man in any way.  They
can't abide it. It burns them, kills em' if their hit hard enough with it.
 It might ward them off, it might. Anyway... if you plan on goin up
against the Wild Hunt... just you keep that on you to humor me." She
smiled again, and Mulder smiled pack.
     "I will, thanks."

     "You don't BELIEVE all that folk tale mumbo jumbo do you?" Sheriff
Green practically exploded when they were safely in the confines of the
squad car.
     "Not necessarily... but it's possible that someone believes.  Say
someone grew up on these stories, like Mrs. Kelly," he held up a hand
before Green could explode again, "I'm not saying it was her. I saw her
hands.  She couldn't open a child proof pill bottle let alone draw a bow. 
But someone LIKE her, heard all the old legends.  Now suppose this person
believes, believes enough to try to call up this Huntsman myth.  Then they
become convinced that they ARE the Huntsman."
     "A class A Psycho. Ok I can see where you are goin with this." green
pulled at his bottom lip. "But what about the dogs?  The meanest dog we
have in town is Mr. Davis' doberman.  I checked on him right off. 
Neighbors swear along with him that Toby was chained out where he always
is during the times of the murders, an I checked after each one.  The
second meanest dog os Ms. McGowan's chihuohua, and you are not about to
convince me that five people were torn apart by an enraged chihuahua.  The
rest are all nice calm dogs.  Bark at strangers. but never bite.  And Jake
guarantees there was more then one dog involved here.  At least five
different jaw patterns."

     By the time they returned to the Morgue the body had been returned to
the drawer and Scully was pouring over a pile of Autopsy reports.  She
looked up when they walked in.
     "Those unusual heart punctures... I'm pretty sure  four of the five
victims were still alive when they were made."  She pinched the bridge of
her nose between thumb and forefinger then went on, "Jack O'Shay, victim
number two, he had the puncture, but the edges of the wound make Dr.
Masterson think he was already dead when  penetration occurred.  I agree. 
And get this... I think whatever made those wounds was hollow.  There was
an eighth inch circle of loose myocardium in the wound, perfectly
circular."
     "Well Mrs. Kelly proved interesting." Mulder crossed the room to
stand by his partner. "She thinks and Archetypical Hunter Mythos was
involved.  She didn't strike me as the type to read Jung either. Either
that or we're looking for someone with a call to the spirit world on the
phone bill."
     Jake Masterson had entered the room from a side door a pile of 
folders in his hand. He gave a hardy laugh. "Where do you think Jung  got
his ideas about archetypes?  Best bet is through a study of legends of
folklore.  And no one around here is more up to date on THAT then Agnes
Kelly."
     "Sheriff I'd like to see where the bodies were found." Mulder
fingered through the photos attached to each autopsy report.
     "Tomorrow, Agent Mulder.  It's going to be dark soon and besides the
fact that you won't see squat in the dark, whatever or whoever killed
these people always strikes after dark." Sheriff green grinned. "Do you
have any idea the amount of paperwork I'd be buried in if a couple a feds
got eaten by wild dogs in my back yard?"
     "Then we can start going down the list of relatives." Scully stood
and restacked the files neatly.
     Jake handed her the identical stack in his own hand. "Here are the
copies you wanted."
     "Thanks." They exchanged files and Scully looked expectantly at
Mulder. "Well lunch was airplane mystery food, you still owe me for
breakfast." She looked at Sheriff Green. "Got any relatives in the
restaurant business?"
     Jake gave a belly laugh at Green's blush. "No mam.  The only place in
town however is Karen's Diner unless you want pizza and pretzels at any of
the pubs."
     "The diner will be fine.  We still have work to do and I'm not sure I
could pass up a cold beer right now if we went to a pub." As they moved to
the door, Mulder placed a guiding hand at the small of Scully's back as he
bent down to whisper, "How come I get the feeling you made out on this
deal?  Dinner for a croissant?"
     "Who are you kidding Mulder?" she shot back, "You'll just be putting
it down on our expense account anyway." She smiled up at him.

===========================================================================

From: rhonddal@aol.com (RhonddaL)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: THE HUNT (5/?)
Date: 13 Dec 1995 14:33:27 -0500


 DISCLAIMERS ATTACHED TO PARTS 1 AND 4.

                 THE HUNT
                 by Rhondda Lake
                 (part 5/?)

     The Diner was just that... an old Silver Diner that took Scully back
to her childhood.  They sat in a booth with a little personal jukebox at
the end of the table against the wall.  All the booths were similarly
equipped.  Mulder flipped idly through the selection of oldies, country
and folk music by turning a knob on the side.
     Scully managed to hold her tounge when Mulder ordered a jumbo burger
with the works and a chocolate shake.  She settled for broiled fish and a
soda.
     She looked up when she heard a quarter drop into the little jukebox
at their table and winced when "Flying Purple People Eater" played softly.
     "You are twisted Mulder."
     He gave her his usual lopsided grin. "I'm glad someone appreciates
me." His eyes tracked out the window into the gathering darkness.  The
Diner was at the edge of town, and directly across what the locals called
'the highway' and Scully called ' the road' the forest pressed it's
presence on them.
     "I don't think the ghosties and goblins are going to make an
appearance just for your benefit." She sighed and tapped the linoleum
tabletop with a fingernail directly in front of his hand to get his
attention. "So what did you find out?"
     Mulder shrugged. "That mint tea isn't all that bad." He turned his
attention back to her. "Mrs. Kelly thinks someone tried to call up some
Hunter mythological figure.  She is also convinced this person or persons
unknown has succeeded."
     "And you?" She eyed him wearily, fully expecting some Mulderish
reasoning of the weird and fantastic.
     "I think she is on to something." She smiled, practically reading his
partner's thoughts by her expression alone.  "But I think it's a case of
someone with a strong belief in those legends suffering an episode of
psychosis and taking the Hunter persona on to themselves."
     Scully sighed with relief. "That I can deal with." She unconsciously
echoed Sheriff Green's earlier words. "Ok so what about the Fox Fire
Phenomenon?"
     "That's the part I haven't figured out yet.  But I intend to.  What's
wrong Scully, getting tired of chasing little grey men, voodoo priests,
cannibals and Ghosts?"
     "What? And give up all my fun?" 
     Scully fell silent as their food was delivered and while she watched
Mulder drown his burger in an obscene amount of ketchup.
     "So far what I have on the victims is only that they were attacked in
the same way.  All but the fourth were locals.  Ian Jones was a vagrant
and got identified only because he had an out of date Tennessee drivers
licence and a record for petty theft and drunk and disorderly.  The only
female among them was Meghan Thomas a local Hemopath and something of an
herbal doctor who was caught out to late collecting mushrooms of all
things." She tried to avoid watching Mulder eat that excuse for food, but
couldn't force herself to look away.  It was rather like prodding at a
sore tooth, an irresistible pull.  Considering the content of the burger
he was scrupulously neat, no ketchup dripped onto his plate.  Amazing.
     He swallowed and sipped his shake seemingly oblivious of his
partner's amazed scrutiny. "Well Patrick Murphy was a poacher, locals knew
about it but he was careful and never actually got caught with anything
Sheriff Green could PROVE.  The interesting thing about Murphy is not only
was he an experienced hunter but he was carrying a rifle at the time.  The
rifle was found in his hand and he appeared to have been using it as a
club.  It was jammed.  Sheriff Green thinks he must have been mighty
scared to keep shoving cartridges in his gun like he had.  The gun HAD
been fired, but there was no evidence he hit anything,, not even a tree."
     "Well considering that there had been four previous victims it only
stands to reason that when he saw a pack of dogs coming for him he
panicked."
     "Have we determined it was dogs?"
     Scully nodded as she picked at her food. "Not only from the tooth
patterns but the photos of the few tracks found at the scenes  don't match
wolf prints.  Besides wolves aside from being rare are usually weary of
people and avoid them if they can.  Fairy tales aside, the reports of
wolves attacking humans are rare.  Feral dogs, however, may have lost
their fear of humans and are much more dangerous."
     "But can someone train and use truly feral dogs? If someone is
stabbing the victims in the heart while they are still alive they must be
able to get in among these animals during a blood frenzy.  That doesn't
make any sense." He pointed at her with a french fry.
     "Since when did something we investigated make sense?" 
     He just grinned and chomped the fry. "And just where are these dogs
being kept when they aren't making kibble out of the locals?  They only
attack at night so far, which suggests that they are locked up somewhere
during the day."
     "There are hundreds of miles of forest out there Mulder, they could
be hidden anywhere if they are being hidden at all.  They may simply be
nocturnal."

===========================================================================

From: rhonddal@aol.com (RhonddaL)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: THE HUNT (6/?)
Date: 13 Dec 1995 21:24:32 -0500


DISCLAIMER ATTACHED TO PARTS 1 AND 4.

                THE HUNT
                by Rhondda Lake
                (Part 6/?)

     After dinner they Mulder drove the rental car to the first address on
the list of the victim's next of kin.  On the very edge of town a somewhat
ramshackle house, it's color indistinguishable in the dark, was lit from
inside indicating that someone was home.  Scully knocked on the door, as
there was no bell.
     A boy opened the door.  He was perhaps seventeen or eighteen with the
round plump face and slightly drooping eyes that marked Downs Syndrome
under a shock of pale blond hair.  He blinked at the agents through a pair
of thick glasses, a beatific smile on his face.
     "Who is it Michael?" Almost immediately an attractive woman in her
early thirties appeared behind the boy, her hair a matching shade of gold.
     "Uh... I'm Special Agent Mulder, this is my partner Dana Scully."
They held out their badges and the woman peered at them as if she were
having trouble focusing. Small wonder as the distinct smell of hops teased
Mulder's nose. "We are here to ask some questions concerning your father's
death."
     The woman nodded and, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, pulled
him away from the door, gesturing them inside.
     Michael Gallagher thrust out one blunt fingered hand with exuberance.
"Hello, I'm Michael."
     "I'm Dana." Scully felt her hand caught and pumped up and down with
enthusiasm.
     "I'm Mulder." Mulder rescued his partner with some amusement and was
surprised by the strength in the boy's grip as he was just as hardy in
shaking Mulder's hand as he was with Scully's.
     A large dog padded into the room, a husky/shepherd mix by the look of
it, and without even bothering to sniff at the intruders he promptly
rolled onto his back offering his belly up for a rub.
     Michael wend to his knees and rubbed the dog who wriggled with
enjoyment.  Scully laughed and bent to rub at it's furry chest as well.
The dog sighed contentedly.
     "Remind me to try doing that some time if that's the reaction I'd
get." Mulder grinned down at Scully who abruptly stood again and gave him
patented Look number three.
     "Don't be afraid." Michael misinterpreted her reaction. "Puck won't
bite. He's a good dog. He doesn't bite."
     "Michael why don't you take Puck upstairs to play with his chew toy
in your room?" The woman, Maire Gallagher did not matched the agent's
amused smiles.
     "But mom, the little hand is only on the nine. You said I don't have
to go up until it's on the ten."
     "Michael PLEASE!""
     The boy sighed dramatically and nudged the dog in the side lightly.
"Come on Puck, we have to play upstairs so the grown ups can say grown up
things."
     They tromped up the stairs to the left and Ms. Gallagher waved Scully
and Mulder into the well worn living room. It was neat but spoke plainly
of financial difficulty.  One over stuffed chair had a block of wood for a
leg, and the afghan thrown over the back of the couch did not quite cover
the place where the upholstery had rubbed thin.
     Mulder and Scully sat on the couch while Maire Gallagher grabbed a
half full bottle of beer off the coffee table littered with seven empty
versions of the same. They stood out in the tidy surroundings like a
beacon. Scully shot Mulder a meaningful look as Maire took a long pull
from the bottle.
     "Mrs. Gallagher..." Mulder started.
     Her harsh laugh interrupted him. "No way Mr. FBI. No friggin way.
Just Ms." She pronounced the prefix with an exaggerated z sound. "Or Maire
for you if you're nice." She grinned over her beer bottle. "Never married
and never hope to."
     "Ms. Gallagher if this is a bad time..." 
     She cut Scully off this time. "It's fine. Time doesn't get any
better."
     "Alright, Ms. Gallagher, can you tell us what your father was doing
in the woods on the night he was killed?" Mulder asked the question but
Scully pulled out a notebook.  He didn't need one.
     "Probably wondered off the road on his way back from Talisan's pub to
take a leak. My father, " she raised an unsteady eyebrow, 'was a bit of a
tippler.  Seems to have rubbed off lately." She stared at the now empty
bottle in her hand accusingly.
     "Did your father have any enemies?" Scully looked at the woman, her
disapproval well masked but for the stiffness of her back.
     "Everyone loved daddy dearest.  He was the town mascot don't ya know.
 The merry widower.  He would always buy a round for the pub. Huh."
     "It says here your father used to work with Jack O'Shay... did he
know any of the other victims?" 
     Maire nodded at Scully. "Sure. This is a small town.  Most everyone
knows most everyone else at least in passing." She sighed and put the
bottle down making no move to obtain another. "Dad and Jack O'Shay used to
run what they called Woading Cordwood. It turned out that chopping
deadwood for firewood was too much like work for Dad. He quit after a
month. They were not exactly friends..."  Maire rubbed her temples gently.
"He knew of Meghan Thomas, thought she was a fruit cake. But he only knew
her by reputation and passing her on the street, or riding on the same bus
as her. I don't think he knew that vagrant guy though.  But Pat Murphy he
knew.  He bought bootleg Moonshine from him."
     "Moonshine?" Scully actually looked surprised.
     "Yah, 100 proof rott gut.  God alone knows what Pat made it from but
it could strip the finish off a table better then Formbey's.  It was
nasty.  It also did NOT make for a cheerful drunk."
     Mulder frowned, "He was violent?"
     Maire snorted then laughed, "Oh yah, he could get real mean when he
tied one on.  Mostly I just locked me and Michael in my room till he
either sobered up or passed out."
     Mulder and Scully looked at one another and a wave of silent
communication passed between them.
     "Ms. Gallagher, this report has your son listed as seventeen but
doesn't list his father.  Would Michael's father have any reason to want
your father dead?" Scully looked up from the file she had peeked at to
notice Maire Gallagher go pale.
     "No.  Michael's father didn't want anything to do with him.  But you
could say he and my dad got along real well." She stood up rather abruptly
and swayed for a moment before regaining her balance.  "I can't help you
with anything else, and it's getting late.  I'd like to see that my son
gets to bed proper. He tends to forget things... I'll see you to the
door."
     Neither agent could ignore such an obvious dismissal.
     Once outside and heading back to the car Scully shook her head. 
"Something is definitely going on there."
     "Yep, makes me want to look at the local birth records in the
morning." 
      "It's too late to check on Jack O'Shay's widow. What do you say we
call it a night?" Scully stretched  and felt the satisfying pop of a kink
in her back coming loose.

===========================================================================

From: rhonddal@aol.com (RhonddaL)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: THE HUNT (7/?)
Date: 14 Dec 1995 16:07:02 -0500


DISCLAIMERS ATTACHED TO PARTS 1 AND 4.

                THE HUNT
                by Rhondda Lake
                (Part 7/?)

     It was five minutes after ten before they came through the door of
Maddie's, the bell inside the door jangled softly into the room.
     Maddie herself was seated on the couch in the living room watching a
sit com when she looked up to see them enter.  She turned off the tv and
rose.
     "Evenin. Anythin I can get you folks? I've water on for a late night
cup of tea... and I can make coffee easy enough if you would like some. I
also have some home made poppy seed roll, on the house."
     Mulder's eyes lit up. "I'll have some coffee and some of that roll if
it isn't really any trouble."
     "Course it isn't, or I wouldn't have offered. How bout you dear?"
Maddie's eyes fell on Scully.
     "Tea sounds lovely. Thank you." When Maddie disappeared into the
kitchen Scully looked to Mulder, "Do you want to hash what we have out
down here or in one of the bedrooms?"
     "Remember what Maire Gallagher said... it's a small town and everyone
knows most everyone else.  I think this B&B might be a bargain in more
ways then one.  Want to pick Ms. Green's brains for some local gossip?"
     "It certainly can't hurt. If Ms. Green doesn't mind."
     "Doesn't mind what?" Maddie Green came back into the room balancing a
silver tray with three cups, a tea pot and a coffee pot plus a tray of
sliced poppy seed roll with pats of butter and a butter knife to the side.
 She settled her burden on the coffee table in front of the couch.
     "If we pick your brains for local gossip." Scully provided.
     "Oh of course I don't.  But I don't know how much good it will do
you." 
     Scully took off her suit jacket and hung it on the coat rack behind
the door.  Mulder followed her lead. Scully took up the single stuffed
chair leaving Mulder to share the couch with Maddie Green.
     "So what can you tell us about the local wild life?" Mulder took the
cup of black coffee and sipped at it without adding anything to it.
     "I'm assuming you mean in the forest and not the local juvenile
delinquents." Maddie smiled. "If you mean canine enough to do the damage
we have coyote and both red and grey fox. But they didn't do what Tom
described to me. People whisper wolves behind their hands, but Red wolves
range further south... and I have never heard of any in this area before,
and the closest grey wolves are in Texas."
     "Other then that we got squirrels, rabbit, raccoons, deer and such."
     "So you think it was dogs as well?" Mulder finished off a slice of
poppy seed roll and licked the butter from his fingers.
     "Not any local dogs," Maddie insisted, "but it is the most logical
assumption. Now... do you want to hear the juice on the victims?"
     Scully smiled, "Why Maddie, I hadn't pegged you for a gossip maven."
     "Honey, in this town you hear it all if you look for it or not. I
don't look but I get most of it repeated to me. I can't vouch for accuracy
on most things... so I'll only give you things I have observed myself, or
from sources I trust to be honest." Maddie cleared her throat a bit then
went on. "Thom Gallagher was a ne'r do well, that I can tell you plain. He
was mostly friendly to folks, but he had a mean temper under it all. I saw
that girl of his walking around with her share of bruises as a child, and
she was NOT a klutz. Tom drank heavy and often, and it is no secret that
he got his money from not only the Welfare but from some underhanded
means. I don't know what exactly... but he always had the money to booze
with, and as often as not he'd have cash to spare.  Never heard about bill
collectors botherin him either. 
     Jack O'Shay was a good man from all I know. I knew him.  He worked at
the Hardware store and he was always friendly and helpful.  He worked
after hours gathering firewood even after his brief association with Tom
Gallagher in that field failed. His wife is expectin, and he was trying to
get together the money to move out of their little apartment and into a
larger house. He would go out of his way to help people.
    Meghan Thomas was a sweet child.  She studied herbalism from her late
granny, and she was the 'wise woman' to half the town."  Maddie smiled at
the agents, "I don't suppose you believe in herbalism... but Meghan was as
good as any doctor, and she NEVER treated anything more hazardous then the
flue. Those truly ill she told to get their butts to a doctor, and she'd
see what she could do to help with the symptoms after the doctor saw to
them."
    The fourth victim was found by hikers. No one knew him. They figure he
was living in one of the little caves that litter the forest. Can't tell
you much there. 
     "Pat Murphy was as bad as Tom Gallagher. He was underhanded, sneaky
and generally unlikable. The only real friend he had in this world was his
dog. He'd have sold his own mother for enough money, and she knew it. Poor
Trudy tried her best by that boy... but even she got fed up and threw him
out two years ago. I can think of a lot of people who are NOT sad to see
him gone, but none who'd find it worth their trouble to do him in
themselves."
     "What can you tell us about Michael Gallagher? His mother got very
upset when we mentioned his father." Scully sipped her tea carefully. The
water was too hot and she almost scalded her tongue at her first attempt.
     "No one knows who his father is.  Maire never said.  Can't remember
her dating anyone though. She was a real homebody, and quiet like. She
didn't even have poor Michael in the hospital. She went into labor at home
and... you know what..." Maddie frowned, her brow furrowed in thought.  "I
believe Meghan's grandmother delivered the boy.  Both she and Meghan were
state licenced mid wives. Yes... I recall at the time people thought it
odd that ol' Jilly Davis was midwiving for Maire... as Thom Gallagher was
so stuck up about herbalism and so keen on modern medicine."
     "So no one knew Michael's father, he never came to town to claim the
boy, or tried to bribe the family?" As he asked Scully looked at her
partner. She could almost see his amazing mind working furiously at
something. But what? She just could tell that there was more to the
question then he was letting on.
     "No. Not that I can recall. And Michael... he's such a sweet angel. I
mean it breaks my heart when the other kids tease him... but he is so mild
and honest.  They say it's a trait common to those children born like
him... with the Downs Syndrome... but I can tell you there is no more
likeable child in this whole town."

===========================================================================

From: rhonddal@aol.com (RhonddaL)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: THE HUNT (8/?)
Date: 14 Dec 1995 18:41:55 -0500


     Though far from my first writing effort, this IS my first attempt at
X-Files fan fiction. PLEASE, please, please send me your responses to
this.  Comments, criticisms, flames and David Duchovny's home address
accepted. Though I reserve the right to ignore the flames.<G>
     This work is PG-13, due to violence and mild expletives. There is NO
M&S romance, and no UST either (ok maybe there is a little after all, but
it was unplanned).  This is simply an X-File.

   DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and all characters associated with
the X-Files are the property of Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen productions.
 I took them off the shelf, I played with them for a while then I put them
back right where I found them.  Please don't sue me for using them as all
I own is this Computer and my Dog.  Without my computer I can't read every
one elses' fan fiction.  However timesharing arrangements on the dog can
be arranged.


                The Hunt
                 By Rhondda Lake
                (Part 8/?)

     Mulder ran his hand through his hair and sat on the bed.  Maddie
Green had retired around eleven, and he and Scully had stayed up until two
going over details.  Scully plainly wanted to know his suspicions about
Michael Gallagher's father... but he couldn't voice them.  Not yet.  There
was no proof, only a nagging suspicion...
     He sighed and pulled on the Martin Martian tee shirt he'd packed to
sleep in with his sweat pants. He was bothered by something else.  What
connection did out of place Fox Fire have with these murders?   There HAD
to be one, after all the sightings only started after the first murder.
     By the time uneasy sleep took him the answer still had not presented
itself to him.


     Jimmy McGowan popped another NO DOZE tablet into his mouth and
swallowed it dry.  He hated the night shift, but since the killings
Sheriff Green had assigned him to work from ten till seven... a ten hour
shift.  Sure he could use the overtime, but driving around all night
patrolling Woading was by far one of the most boring things on Earth.  His
night patrol had done nothing to stop the killer either.  After all both
the vagrant and Pat Murphy had been killed after Jimmy's night time rides
had begun, and there was just no way they could patrol the forest itself. 
All Sheriff Green could hope for was to keep the killer from getting up
the balls to come into town.
     Jimmy yawned and pulled his car around to the Highway.  He would just
drive down past Karen's Diner and start at the other end of town again
before working his way back. He patted the thermos next to him. Later...
later he'd need the coffee Claire'd made him to make it past the three am
mark. Claire... now there was something he'd rather be doing at two in the
morning.  Of course the overtime was gonna help pay for the honeymoon,
maybe they'd make it to Disney World after all.
      The Deputy's reverie was jarred when something flickered just at the
edge of his high beams.  It had looked vaguely familiar to his tired mind.
 Someone running across the street up there...
     He stopped the car and leaned across the seat to roll down the
passenger window. Through the open window he ran his small flashlight
along the trees.   What the... 
     There it was again... movement. Jimmy moved to the CB.  They didn't
have a dispatch, instead Sheriff Green kept another unit next to his bed,
trusting Jimmy not to get on the air unless it was important.  But... was
it important or had he just seen a deer?
     He flashed the light around some more.
     "Hey! Anybody out there?"
     Then he saw them... the Will-O-Wisps. Eleven large floating balls of
glowing red. Jimmy stared, speechless at the sight.  It was incredible. 
Sure he'd HEARD about them... but they were real.  They were beautiful...
they were amazing.
     A twelfth glowing ball floated over from the left, and then they all
dimmed. They dimmed and then each light separated into two tiny spots of
light, each pair of lights winking at Jimmy as he finally snapped out of
his sense of wonder and reached for the CB. His shaking hand dropped the
mike and before he could dive for it a vision of snarling grey fur and
sharp teeth launched through the passenger window, red eyes glowing.
     Jimmy screamed and brought up his arm in a defensive gesture, in
shock he barely felt the teeth tear through his flesh, sink to bone.  He
didn't even see the windshield spider web as the arrow passed through it,
or feel the missile sink into his chest.  He did see the other dogs...
glowing eyes like windows to Hell as they pushed through the broken
windshield...


     Dana Scully woke up to the pounding on her door. She stumbled out of
bed and straightened her pajama top before opening the door to find Mulder
there, already dressed and tieing on another of his ugly ties... where did
he FIND them anyway?
     "Come on, get dressed.  Green's Deputy was killed last night across
from the Diner. We have to get out there now. Be prepared to help
Masterson with the autopsy."
     Dana rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and nodded before closing the
door. God, what a way to start a day. 


     The Highway was blocked off by volunteers and two cops wearing the
badges of nearby Mammoth Springs.  It seemed Green and his Deputy were the
only local police, and so he had to draft some friends to keep the morbid
curiosity seekers away.  Mulder and Scully got past after showing their
badges.
     The patrol car was off to the side of the road. No skid marks, the
driver had stopped it himself. The windshield was smashed in and broken
glass all over the hood and road sparkled in the morning sun.
     The Forensics team and photographer on site were from Mammoth Springs
as well and they circled the car carefully.  Jake Masterson was leaning in
the driver's door of the car. 
     Tom Green was seated in his own car, parked right in front of the
matching police vehicle.  The lawman was watching the others with a far
away look. The hand that gripped the steering wheel was white knuckled.
     Scully moved to assist Masterson while Mulder went to lean against
the Sheriff's car.
     "Sheriff Green... are you going to be alright?"
     The Sheriff looked out the door at Mulder, his eyes bright with
unshed tears.  "Would you be?" His voice was tight... strained. "I'm the
one who put him on night patrol.  Damnit I knew this sicko only struck at
night so far... it should have been me.  Jimmy was twenty four years old
Agent Mulder... he was just a kid.  I'm just as responsible for that boy's
bein dead as the killer is."
     Mulder shook his head. "I know it doesn't help right now, but you
have to know that that isn't true.  The killer never struck in town
before. You had no reason to suspect that he ever would, and every reason
to believe a night patrol would keep it from happening."
     The Sheriff nodded absently, but Mulder was unsure if his words had
sunk in. 
     "I have to go tell Claire. Oh God... They were gonna get married next
month.  Part of the reason I put him on nights is it paid better... so he
could take her someplace nice for their honeymoon.  Now I have to face
that girl and tell her that Jimmy's dead."
     "Would you like me to go with you?" Mulder offered, sympathy in his
eyes.
     "No... No it's my place.  You, your a stranger.  Stay here and see
what you can find to make this bastard pay... "
     Green pulled his car door closed and started the engine.  Mulder
moved away from the car as it pushed through the on lookers and the people
holding them back.

===========================================================================

From: rhonddal@aol.com (RhonddaL)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: THE HUNT (9/?)
Date: 15 Dec 1995 19:24:32 -0500


DISCLAIMERS ATTACHED TO PARTS 1, 4 AND 8.

         THE HUNT
         by Rhondda Lake
         (Part 9/?)

     Mulder walked over to the police cruiser that had centered all the
attention. He managed to look inside over some shoulder and cooley walked
back a little to get out of the way.  While he remained outwardly
indifferent the scene in the car was enough to turn even his stomach.  Fox
Mulder had seen more then his share of violent death, much of it just as
gruesome as what was inside the car, but to be completely unaffected by it
was to lose some humanity. 
     The slight roiling of his stomach reminded him that they hadn't had
breakfast in their hurry to get out here.  Of course that was all to the
good, as he didn't have to fight to keep it down if there was nothing
there... but a completely empty stomach could make the nauseous feeling
worse. He reached into his over coat pocket and produced a small bag of
sunflower seeds.  Closing his eyes he popped one into his mouth and let
the saltiness take over his concentration for a few moments, just
concentrating on cracking the shell between teeth, sucking out the meat
and disposing of the shell.  A familiar ritual that both calmed and helped
to clear the thought process.
     "Mulder?" He opened his eyes to look down at Scully.  She was peeling
off a pair of latex gloves in an efficient manner that managed to turn
them inside out and into one another to keep the flakes and clots of dried
and drying blood inside.
     At the car two men were carefully removing the body and sealing it in
a zippered shroud. 
     "It's the same killer. The arrow is being rushed to Mammoth Spring's
forensics... but it is most likely just as clean as the others.   The
boy's shirt had been opened above the arrow wound and the second puncture
was present. It's going to be difficult considering the mess but I'd
really like to know if any of the victim's blood is missing."
     "Scully - some of the BODY is missing."
     "Yes, which just compounds the problem of getting a measure of the
blood."
     "Don't tell me YOU think a vampire did this?" He managed to bring up
an amused smile. "I may be rubbing off on you."
     "Then remind me to take another shower." She shook her head. "No, I
don't mean a vampire. Your theory about the killer having a psychosis
convincing him he was a mythological figure is actually behind this.  If I
remember any of the old tales my grandmother used to tell me when I was a
child then blood rituals were common in ancient Celtic and Druidic
ceremonies.  This puncture with a hollow instrument is always to the
heart, and mostly when the victim is still alive.  That would make a nice
little spurt. Perhaps the killer is harvesting some of the blood for
ritual reasons."
     "Your grandmother must have liked giving you nightmares. What ever
happened to Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty?"
      Scully managed a faint hint of a smile. "Modern interpretation
declare they lived happily ever after." 
      "Yah, well James McGowan didn't." He looked over just as the doors
of the coroner's van slammed shut.
     "At least we have some leads now.  All those bloody paw prints on the
hood should be worth something. PLUS, we managed to find some dog hairs.
It might give us a break." Scully hoped the news would lighten his mood,
especially if the murder scene had affected him as much as it had her.
     
     

     Agnes Kelly opened the door only to stop the incessant pounding. It
was way to early for visitors, no matter how much she usually enjoyed
company.  She was taken somewhat aback by the sight that greeted her on
the other side however.
     "Agnes... oh Lord and Lady... it's happened again!" The pitiful wail
reached to the old woman's heart, and a glimmer of understanding came to
her mind. 
     "You?" 
     "I didn't mean it... not like this... you have to help me.  But... on
your word as lorekeeper... not a word to any, especially to the
outsiders."
     Agnes sighed. Fools, young fools, lady bright protect me from them,
and protect them from themselves.
     "Do you truly have any idea what you have done?" Her old lined hand
moved to cover a younger, trembling one.
     "Not before... but I am beginning to understand."
     "Child... that is nothing compared to what must be done to undo it. 
In the end you may be unwilling to pay the price."

     
     It was no surprise that Sheriff Green did not show up for the
autopsy.  Mulder didn't stick around either, opting to do something USEFUL
instead of hovering around the morgue waiting for an official report. He
went to the next name on the list of the previous victims next of kin.
Terry O'Shay, widow of the second victim.
     Terry O'Shay was more than willing to answer all of Mulder's
questions, but she was clearly still distraught over her husband's death.
She was now residing with her mother.  Mulder learned that she'd been
unable to keep up rent payments on their apartment after covering funeral
expenses, and with the baby on the way... Mrs. O'Shay unconsciously kept
rubbing her swollen abdomen, taking comfort from what she had left of her
late husband.
     All he had managed to learn at the interview was that while they were
just making it by they had no outstanding debts. Mrs. O'Shay confirmed the
brief business venture her husband had joined Thom Gallagher in, but said
that the two were never good friends. 
     Jack O'Shay also knew Meghan Thomas.  He DID believe in her herbs and
ointments, and had purchased some from her on occasion. They had also gone
to school together. She was closer to him then Thom Gallagher, but still
not really a close friend
     When he left he knew the autopsy would not be over yet.. so he swung
by the small local library and headed for the reference section. In
minutes he was sitting at a worn table skimming through a pile of books on
Celtic Mythology.

===========================================================================

From: rhonddal@aol.com (RhonddaL)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: THE HUNT (10/?)
Date: 16 Dec 1995 18:53:41 -0500


DISCLAIMERS ATTACHED TO PARTS 1, 4 AND 8.

             THE HUNT
             by Rhondda Lake
             (Part 10/?)

     When Mulder at last returned to the morgue Scully was just removing
her scrubs.
     "Impeccable timing as always." She tossed the garments in a laundry
bag off to the side.
     "Find anything new?" Mulder leaned against a wall as Scully put her
suit jacket on.
     "Not really. This victim was like the others, the only difference
being he was attacked inside a vehicle not out in the woods."
      "Well Mrs. O'Shay couldn't offer us much either.  Other then that
Jack O'Shay and Meghan Thomas went to school together. I was just going to
go speak with Enid Thomas. Care to join me?"
      "Well I certainly don't want any lunch right now." Scully shook her
head. "Alright, after that we can see how Sheriff Green is doing... maybe
get him to take us to the other  murder sites."

     Enid Thomas' home was a victorian reminiscent of the Bed and
Breakfast.  It's yard kept neat, and small well tended herb gardens tucked
away in corners some of the plants still green despite the early autumn
season.  As they waled up the fieldstone walkway Mulder stopped and
pointed to the left.  Scully frowned but followed him as he left the path
to stand beneath a Ash tree in the side yard.  Right at his feet was a
perfectly circular formation of mushrooms about five feet in diameter.
     Scully smiled. "A Fairie ring."
     Mulder looked at her, surprise on his face.
     "I TOLD you my grandmother used to tell us stories.  You can't grow
up in an Irish family and not hear about Fairie Rings Mulder."
     "So you think the Thomas sisters used to dance out here with an
unearthly host?" Mulder looked amused.
     "Meghan was an herbalist, you said Mrs. Kelly told you she studied
the old ways.  This was probably planted as a lark."
     "Actually it wasn't planted." The sound of the new voice made both
agents turn.  A lithe, young woman was coming up the walk, a large dog was
straining at the leash in her hand. ""I'm Enid Thomas, can I help you?"
     "We're with the FBI. We were coming to talk to you about your
sister." Mulder showed the woman his badge.
     "Then come on in. You're lucky you caught me. I was out on an
errand." She tugged on the dog's leash. "Other then making sure Hela here
get's his exercise."
     Scully openly admired the large dog. "Irish wolfhound isn't he?"
     Enid's smile lit up her heart shaped face. "Yes, pure pedigree. If
you are afraid of him I can tie him out back while we talk, but I assure
you he is quite well behaved."
     "I'm not afraid. Mulder?" Scully's look was practically challenging.
     "As long as he doesn't take me for a well dressed chew toy I have no
problem."
     "Don't worry, he's good. I'm just glad dog's are color blind....
other wise he might try taking you down just for your taste in neckwear."
Enid's laugh was husky.
     "She has you there." Scully smiled and shook her head.
     "Hey, it's a fashion statement," was the only defense he could offer.
     Once inside the house reminded him of Agnes Kelly's. Fewer knick
knacks, but similar tastes. 
     "You said that ring out there wasn't planted?" Mulder spoke while
removing his over coat. 
     "Yes. We were so charmed when it popped up.  Meghan and I were
careful not to disturb it. It can be a real trial to keep the grass
trimmed around it though. But to be so favored by the Telwyth Teg... it's
worth the effort."
     It was Scully's turn to look surprised. "You don't mean you believe
in Fairies?"
     "Why not? 'There is more in heaven and in Earth' and all that." Enid
waved her hand as she took a seat in a high backed chair.  The wolfhound
sat at her feet.
     "Do you think Meghan was killed by the Wild Hunt?" Mulder sat
opposite the girl, his eyes meeting hers.
     "Absolutely. She probably thought that being so favored as to have a
Fairie Ring in our yard was protection enough for her. I really don't
think she meant to stay out so late that night, but once she got to
gathering her herbs and mushrooms she tended to phase out the real world,
working wrapped in rituals and little prayers... I sometimes thought that
while she was busy she was almost outside of time." Enid's dark eyes took
on a far away look. "She was special, so wrapped into the great mystery
that surrounds us she sometimes seemed not to be of this world at all. I
think.... if she had lived... that she would have replaced Agnes Kelly as
the local Lorekeeper."
     Scully felt a shiver go up her spine. Both this woman and her words
about her sister brought Milissa to mind. They would have had a lot in
common. "What about you? You seem to be involved with these... beliefs as
well." 
     Enid shook her head. "I am no Lorekeeper. The old tales fascinate
me.. and the stories... I'm willing to think there is some truth to them.
But I'm more a doer then an observer. I'm much more active minded and to
tell you the truth the processes that went into all my sister's herbals
and simples were flat out boring to me."
     "Meghan went to school with Jack O'Shay. Was she connected to any of
the other victims?" 
     Enid looked at Mulder and frowned as she thought. "No more the the
usual contact in a small town. She did talk to Jack once in a while... he
was one of her customers and he respected her. But I don't think she had
any real contact with any of the others."
     "Did you know that there has been another killing? Last night."
Scully watched the young woman's reaction. She paled but nodded. "Yah. 
News travels fast.  Deputy McGowen."
     "Did he have any connection to Meghan?" 
     Enid shook her head. "None that I know of."
     The spoke for a while more without learning anything new. As Mulder
and Scully made to leave Mulder asked a final question. "Ms. Thomas, do
you know why someone would try to call the Wild Hunt?"
    "Revenge." The woman answered flatly. "A deep anger, enough to want
someone dead. I don't think the person who called the Hunt knew what they
were really doing, unless they are mad. The Hunt... it can't be
controlled." She shivered slightly.
     "Thank you for your time Ms. Thomas." Enid Thomas nodded, and she and
Hela seeing them to the door.
     When the agents left Enid closed the door and leaned against it,
absently stroking Hela's great, furry head. "Lord protect them. They don't
know... don't believe." Enid walked across the room to a book case filled
with an odd assortment of daggers and crystals, books and a wide range  of
different morter and pestles.  She fingered a clay goblet, stained dark so
that the intricate design of old knotwork etched into it was barely
visible. "They have no real idea..."

===========================================================================

From: rhonddal@aol.com (RhonddaL)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: THE HUNT (11/?)
Date: 17 Dec 1995 15:53:44 -0500


 I've had a lot of possitive feedback on this story, and I'd like to say
thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read my little ramblings,
and to those who took the time to write to me.  The most common compliment
(and by far the most flattering) I have recieved is on my characters.
   To any and all writers, if you would like to 'borrow' any of the
residents of Woading, all you have to do is ask. I'm hardly stingy. After
all I am borrowing Chris Carter's characters.<G>
   Now... on to part 11.
************************************************************
DISCLAIMERS ATTACHED TO PARTS 1, 4 AND 8.


            THE HUNT
            by Rhondda Lake
            (Part 11/?)

     "She certainly seemed to be handling her sister's death well." Scully
observed as they got in the car.
     "Maybe she sees it as part of the Wheel of Life." 
     Scully sighed, "If you're going to break into song..."
     "Anyone ever tell you you have an unhealthy Disney fixation?" Mulder
grinned. "Anyway that's 'Circle of Life', the Wheel of life is part of the
ancient Druidic belief..."
     "That the soul moves on and is sometimes reborn. Almost like the
Hindus. But I noticed among the other things cluttering Ms. Thomas' house
a Bible on the coffee table and a Crucifix on the wall.  I hardly think
they are the earmarks of a Druid."
      "Ah but Mrs. Kelly also mentioned that Meghan Thomas was with God
now. So perhaps for all the talk of Celtic Mythos they retain the
Christian belief in the afterlife... thus making death a bit easier to
accept." 
     Scully squirmed in her seat a bit. This conversation was getting
distinctly uncomfortable. It hit too close to home in many ways. Missy's
death had hit her hard... especially so close after Ahab's.  Yet Dana
remembered bits and pieces of her own near death experience... and she did
not really fear Death itself.  She had even said as much to Mulder once.
It was true... she was feeling their loss for herself... not for them. 
Did that make Enid Thomas a better person then... to be able to let go of
the personal pain?
     "It looks like Sheriff Green is back." She turned the subject at
seeing the patrol car outside the police station.
     Mulder took her cue and let it drop. He could tell by Scully's
fidgeting the conversation had made her uncomfortable. 
     
     Sheriff Green was indeed back. He nodded at them when they came in.
"I just got off the phone with Mammoth Springs... told them to move their
asses on the lab work. Damn I hate waiting." 
     Tom Green was mad, and was struggling to keep it in check. "You two
want to go see the other murder sites now I guess. I'll meet ya at
Maddie's. You're gonna need some hiking clothes. No offence but those
suits won't hold up to a hike in the wood. I want to make some more calls
here." 
     Mulder noted that Sheriff Green was already in jeans and hiking
boots, his corduroy jacket over a denim shirt the only attempt to dress
himself up, and the wide brimmed hat on his hairless head the only sign of
his office other than the gun and handcuffs on his belt.
     "Fine, just give us a half hour." Mulder nodded and led Scully back
out the way they had just come.  Sheriff Green obviously still needed some
time alone. 
 
     When Mulder came back downstairs Sheriff Green was already there and
in the kitchen. 
     "Come on Tom, have dinner here with me tonight.  You shouldn't be
alone tonight." Maddie's voice filtered into the living room from the
kitchen as Mulder pulled on a leather jacket and peeked around the door
frame.
     "I'll think about it." Green looked up and saw Mulder managing a
small smile. "Well, lookee here... it's a person, not a clone out of the
government cookie press." 
     Mulder answered the smile with one of his own. "Sorry, the clones
look older, shorter and have a bigger body type."
     Scully joined them at that. "Can it Mulder.. he'd never believe you
anyway." She had changed into jeans and an oversized sweatshirt under her
usual trench coat. 
     "Well you three remember to be back before dark or you'll be sure to
kill me with worry. I don't want to hear any of that safety in numbers
crap either. Pat Murphy was armed to the teeth as well, and it did him no
good, so don't try to make me feel better by showing me yer guns either."
Maddie eyed them all. "And you may be the big brother Tomas James Green,
but *I'M* telling you you will have dinner with me tonight. I'm sure Ms
Scully and Mr. Mulder are planning on going over all you show them during
THEIR dinner. You will talk to ME over ours." 
     With that last command Maddie Green pushed them all out the door.
"Now shoo... the faster you get out there the faster you can be back where
it's safe.
     "Wasn't safe for Jimmy." Green muttered under his breath as they
headed out.

     The first murder site was the closest to town before Jimmy McGowen's
murder last night.  Thom Gallagher had been killed about twenty feet into
the woods on the edge of town. The area was cordoned off with bright
yellow tape but there wasn't much to see.  The police had cleaned up
everything that had anything to do with the crime.  


===========================================================================

From: rhonddal@aol.com (RhonddaL)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: THE HUNT (12/?)
Date: 17 Dec 1995 15:54:14 -0500


DISCLAIMERS ATTACHED TO PARTS 1, 4 AND 8.

     THE HUNT
     by Rhondda Lake
     (part 12/?)


     "No arrow found on Gallagher right?" Mulder squatted near to the
ground, examining the ground covered in old leaves.
     "Nope, no sign of one used on him either. Just the odd puncture."
Scully confirmed and Green only nodded. Mulder stood up and motioned for
Green to lead on.
     The trek to the place where Jack O'Shay had been killed took a good
half hour.  On the way the woods were actually rather peaceful, birdsong
filling the air above, the soft rustle of leaves underfoot were the only
sounds as they went... the silence between the three not really
uncomfortable. 
     "Wait a minute Sheriff Green, what's that?" Mulder left the faint
path they had been following and moved down a slight decline. Scully
frowned and followed, to hear the Sheriff close behind.
     At the bottom of the decline Scully saw Mulder standing over the
decomposing corpse of a deer.
     "It's a deer Mulder. You know, Bambi. And in a pretty advanced stage
of decomposition." Scully shook her head.
      "Yah... but look." He pointed to the head.  The deer had been a
buck, it's antler's were missing, shorn off with something sharp. "How
much you want to bet this animal died of natural causes?" Mulder met
Green's eyes.
     "Mrs. Kelly." Green Sighed. " Ok we got part one of that little spell
thing. The rest wouldn't have been that hard to come by." 
     They left the deer and made it to the site of Jack O'Shay's murder
without any further revelations.
     It was as clean as the first site. The Yellow tape the only thing to
differentiate this patch of wood from any other. 
     "He had been chopping wood over there. He died with his axe in his
hand... yet we couldn't see where he'd hit anything living with it. I mean
he would have at least tried to defend himself right?" Green pulled at his
bottom lip as the Agents looked around desperately for something the
authorities would have missed. 
     "The only tracks were the Victims, and one or two paw prints in the
immediate area in all cases. That doesn't make sense." Scully was thinking
of all the ways it could have been pulled off. "Unless he's sweeping away
the tracks and somehow not obscuring the victims."
     She moved away from the taped area and scanned the wood, walking in
larger circles moving outward. Mulder was looking at a small cut in a tree
trunk.
     "Could his axe have done this?" He pointed it out to Green. 
     "Yah. It's possible."
     Mulder stood away from the tree, facing the way the victim's tracks
had come from by all reports. He held his right hand in a fist and swung
in an imitation of someone swinging a club, or an axe. The imaginary axe
head would have landed a few inches higher then the mark on the tree.
"O'Shay was shorter then me. I'd say he was trying to defend himself...
but missed."
     "Mulder!" Scully's shout brought him running, pulling his gun from
it's shoulder holster, Green on his heels.
     Scully had moved just out of their line of sight. She was standing
about fifty meters from the murder site, pointing to the forest floor.
    Mulder saw no immediate threat and looked down. A ring of mushrooms
about five foot in diameter decorated the ground. He reholstered his gun
and reached down to touch one of the fungi. He plucked it.
     "Is there any way we can find out what kind of mushroom this is?"
     "I'd say ask Agnes Kelly... or Enid Thomas... she might still have
some of Meghan's books if you don't want to send it out to Mammoth Springs
lab." Green shrugged.
     "Mulder this is wierd." Scully squatted beside him but didn't touch
anything.
     "So what else is new?"
    
     The other sites gave them nothing new. They made it back to town just
as dusk began to gather. Green felt a wave of relief when they hit the
familiar streets again. He rationalized it as only logical and reasonable
fear of the unknown involved here. 
     He drove the agents back to Maddie's to their rental car while he
went inside to indulge in his sister's cosseting.
     Mulder and Scully ate at Karen's Diner again, but without any musical
selection this time. The conversation was flat, each lost in developing
their own theories. Mulder toyed with the mushroom he'd placed in an
evidence baggie as he thought of Agnes Kelly's words.

     In the forest eleven orbs of red light glowed. Scent. Prey.  They had
new prey... not accidental like most of the rest. The scent of the
defiler... the one who breeched the gate between the worlds was strong to
them.  As soon as They came... the Master and the Alpha... then the hunt
would be on again. They could barely contain their excitement.


===========================================================================

From: rhonddal@aol.com (RhonddaL)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: THE HUNT (13/?)
Date: 17 Dec 1995 20:33:34 -0500


DISCLAIMERS ATTACHED TO PARTS 1, 4 AND 8.

     THE HUNT
     by Rhondda Lake
     (Part 13/?)

     "OK, what are you thinking?" Scully finished her soda and pierced
Mulder with a stare that threatened bodily harm if he didn't talk.
     "I'm thinking that maybe I was wrong.  That maybe this isn't just the
violent culmination of someone's delusions." Mulder examined the mushroom
in the bag yet again.
     "You think the little folk are teleporting between the Thomas' yard
and the murder site by way of magic mushrooms?" She wasn't smiling. She
was looking tired and annoyed.
     "I don't know what I think. I do think Enid Thomas may be involved
somehow... but we can't bring her in for questioning because she's growing
mushrooms. Sweeping away the tracks in the woods would leave some sign,
scraping... something.  The tracks simply are not there. How? And that
ring does make me wonder... I don't believe in coincidence."
     Scully sighed. "The only magic in those mushrooms is if they are a
hallucinogen.  Which might just explain a lot of things.  Think about it
Mulder. If those mushrooms are a drug... then this whole thing can be tied
to a kind of drug war.  The victims killed because they either stumbled
onto the cache or because they wanted a bigger cut."
     "Come on Scully, we are not talking cocaine here. But I'll concede
you might have a point. We'll send this to Mammoth Springs lab in the
morning. I don't want Enid Thomas to know we are asking questions."
     "If this is the reason behind everything... then she's growing them
in her side yard." Scully raised an eyebrow.

     They returned to the B&B just as Sheriff Green was leaving.
     He tipped his hat to them as they came in the door. "Evnin'. If
you'll excuse me folks, I have to get back to work. I'll see you folks in
the morning."
     When he left Maddie sighed from the kitchen doorway. "He's insistin
on taking half the night shift now.  He's gona wear himself ragged until
this is over and done with." She tossed down her dishrag and shook her
head. "I think I'm gonna turn in early, watch some TV in my room. The
house is yours. If you're allowed I have small stash of drinks in the
cupboard over there, and some cold beer in the fridge." She retreated up
the stairs muttering something about the stupidity of brothers.
     "Why didn't you give the sample to Sheriff Green?" Scully hung her
coat on the coat rack while awaiting Mulder's reply.
     "Because he has enough on his mind, and if this is related to some
sort of drug ring we can't know how far it goes."
      "Come on... you don't really think that Green..."
      "No... but by now you should know we can't be too careful."
Mulder ran a hand through his hair and looked at the stairs. "I'm going to
go up. It isn't often we get to turn in early." 
       
       Mulder was seated on the bed pulling off his hiking boots when
something outside his bedroom window drew his attention. He walked over to
the window and pulled aside the curtain. Down below... there, lights.
Bobbing balls of red light.
       Mulder quickly retied his shoe and grabbed his gun. He left his
room and banged on Scully's door as he moved quickly past it.  She opened
it to see him already half way down the stairs.
      "Scully, fox fire, outside... now."
      Without thinking she grabbed her own gun and followed after him,
each grabbing their coats at the door.
      "I just knew an early night was too much to hope for. She muttered.
      Mulder circled to the side of the house, but the apparitions were
gone.
     "Damn!" He looked frantically around, then spotted a glowing bob
moving through the yards behind the house, heading for the woods.
     "Mulder WAIT!" Scully grabbed his arm. "It's dark, they are heading
for the woods." 
     "Hey, I got my lucky charms." He held up a rock for her to see before
taking off in the direction the lights had gone.
     Rolling her eyes Scully followed.

     Coming... flush and run, all part of the Hunt... the Chase. The prey
was easy to find.. the smell of his defilement carried with him. Soon...
soon the taste of the blood, of the Hunt... 
     In the woods the others waited.


===========================================================================