Paranoid

By Humbuggie

(c) 2001


Story: Mulder and Scully are contacted to investigate the
disappearance of a young wife and mother. Mulder's theory leads to one
possible murderer ... the ten-year-old daughter. When he pursues his
theory, everyone thinks he's paranoid. But is he really?


Spoilers: Spoilers for 'Eve', 'The Calusari' and 'Sein und Zeit'. The
story takes place during the season seven timeline, basically ignoring
most episodes.


Type: Lots and lots of MTA, MulderAngst, ScullyAngst and MSR. Oh yeah,
and Skinner. :)



I think I'm paranoid

And complicated

I think I'm paranoid

Manipulated

(Garbage)


Prologue


Zoe Kerns hurried through the house, running up the stairs when she
couldn't get out the front door. Her hands were hurting like hell. She
held them before her, trying not to bruise them further by
accidentally hitting the walls. Tears ruined her make up. Her face was
distraught. She could feel her own heart beat like it was going to
burst out of her body at any time.


She could hardly see where she was going but she knew the house by
heart. She knew where she would be safe. Or at least where she thought
she would be okay. She could call for help when she had locked herself
in. She would make sure someone came to fetch her.


She rushed into the main bedroom and shut the door behind her, pushing
against the wood with her wrists. She couldn't use her fingers. They
felt numb by now. The room was dark. She knew there was no
electricity.


With effort Zoe wrapped a handkerchief around her right hand so that
she could pick up the phone and dial. But there was no tone. It had no
use. She threw the phone on the floor and rushed to the window, trying
to open it with her damaged hands. She cried in pain as she tried to
force it open. It wouldn't budge. She couldn't get it to move,
damaging her hands further when she attempted to do so.


Then there was a hard bang on the door. It became worse as she turned
around. Suddenly she was surrounded by shadows that seemed to be
everywhere. She felt a cold wind in the room. The shadows seemed to
have a life of their own, touching her from head to toe. She felt
something grab a hold of her. She couldn't move anymore. She wanted to
scream, to cry out for help. But she knew it had no use. No one would
hear her.


Numbness set in. Her body gave into fear, exhaustion and pain. Slowly
she was lifted. Weightless she let herself go as the door opened from
the outside and her body was pushed through it. Before long, she was
brought down the stairs.


And when she was brought to her final resting place, her daughter
stood in the doorway and watched as they killed her.



Part One


1


The town was so small Scully thought they would never be able to find
a decent motel. She hadn't asked Mulder if they were planning on
staying in Grover or were to return home that same night. After all,
it was just a 3-hour drive back to DC. They could easily return if
they wanted to. But since it was already fairly late, chances of
getting back home were very slim.


Of course Mulder hadn't told her why they drove to this place in the
first place. During the long, boring trip she'd had all sorts of
visions of flukemen, snowmen, werewolves and bugs. She had asked him
about it. And of course he had given her a 'Mulder-response', refusing
to talk about why they were here.


Only when they stopped for gas about an hour from Grover, he took the
effort of handing her a report that made her startle and then moan.
Her partner didn't say a word when he got back behind the steering
wheel. Nor did he interrupt her when she spoke out loud a few times,
remarking on things she read in that file. But when she started
reading the report, she knew why.


She didn't like cases that involved children. Neither did he.
Especially when the preliminary report made by him clearly stated that
the only possible suspect at this time could be a ten-year-old girl.
She was surprised to read the report. Clearly he had been working on
the case during the previous night. That explained why he looked so
tired now and distressed with his own findings.


"I don't understand, Mulder," she said as she scrolled through the
file and broke the silence between them. "This is not an X-File. It's
a missing person's case. I understand that we might be involved. But
shouldn't the local sheriff's department be coordinating this?"


"It's a murder case," her partner corrected her. "Given the evidence I
don't see how Mrs. Kerns might still be alive."


"Even more reason to give this case to the sheriff. Why is the FBI
involved? More particular, why are we involved? This has got nothing
to do with our department."


"We've handled missing person's cases before," Mulder said. "But I
don't think that's what we should be focusing on here. Every normal
search route has been followed to track Zoe Kerns down. Generally
speaking, everyone believes she is dead. She's been gone for three
weeks now. But I believe that we might have a good chance of finding a
paranormal killer in the small town of Grover."


"Why?" Scully asked, even more surprised. "Your report clearly stated
that the daughter did it. And even that is a farfetched conclusion.
There's no evidence to state your claim!"


"Actually, there is."


"She's a ten-year-old girl!"


"Ten year olds can kill, Scully. You should know that by now."


"She's not an Eve, Mulder. She's a young girl that happened to be at
home when her mother vanished. If that's what you base your assumption
on, you might be grasping at straws."


"Listen to me before you counteract my conclusions," Mulder said
calmly as they were about fifty miles from Grover. "Zoe Kerns has gone
missing from her home, leaving traces of blood all over the main
bedroom, stairs and hall. She has most likely been murdered. The house
has been turned upside down, yet no one has been able to find her. Her
body vanished from a locked up house. She alone had the key that was
found on the door lock of the front door. Her daughter was the only
one at the scene - the only witness. She claims she saw nothing and
was playing upstairs in her room."


"And you are saying that the girl killed her own mother?"


"It has happened before. We've read about it before."


"How would a child murder an adult? How could she have gotten rid of
the body?"


"By using telekinesis. The movement of objects without touching them."


"Has there been any evidence that this girl has such powers?"


"That's what we're here to find out. All other options have been
played. No one has come up with a plausible scenario. No one has
suspected the girl."


"What motive could that girl possibly have?"


"Did she need a motive? Perhaps her mother didn't want her to go out
and play. Perhaps she was denied a cat or a dog. Children want a lot
in life, Scully. And when that is denied to them, their revenge might
be hard."


"Have you talked to Skinner about this?" Scully said, shutting the
file. "I can't believe that he went along with this."


"He knows that I wanted to investigate the disappearance. He doesn't
know I suspect the girl."


"He wouldn't have given the approval, now would he?" Scully remarked.
"He knew you would never pull it off."


"I am pulling it off. I know I'm right about this, Scully. And you
know why I'm right? Because I read that girl's history. I know that
she is using extraordinary gifts that we might not even be able to
grasp. Not yet."


"Does the local sheriff know about this suspicion of yours?"


"I kind of hinted it to him," Mulder grinned boyishly. "He's getting
the picture. In fact, he called me paranoid."


 "You are paranoid."


"Of course I am," he winked, "but let's keep that a secret, shall we?
I wouldn't want the sheriff to know my reputation before I even
started."


"You're still not making sense, Mulder," Scully laughed, despite the
fact she found herself lured into another strange theory once again.
"Care to elaborate?"


Mulder's facial expression changed. He became more serious when he
tried to explain. She knew he could understand one's pain when a loved
one died or disappeared. She knew he didn't want to blame a child
without good reason. If he had a theory, she wanted to hear about it.
At least then she could find plenty of reasons to exclude a possible
child-murderer.


"The daughter is a liar, Scully. I haven't met her, I haven't talked
to her, but I can tell by the way she gave her statement to the
sheriff. Nothing she said made sense. It didn't collaborate with the
evidence. She couldn't tell him when she noticed her mother gone. She
couldn't say what she was doing. She's not a four-year-old. She should
at least have an idea of what went wrong."


"Isn't that too much to ask of her?"


"No. I don't think so. Besides, there have been strange events in the
past. Before her death Zoe Kerns has been treated for multiple burns,
cuts and bruises at the local hospital. In fact, she has been at the
same ER six times over the last year. At first they thought her
husband was responsible, but he's a salesman travelling around the
country. He's hardly at home. For three of the six accounts he
couldn't be held responsible because he was in another city."


"Might the wounds have been self-inflicted?" Scully suggested. "She
might have sought out attention - to get her husband back home."


"Perhaps. But I find it more logical to blame the child. The girl,
Jenny, was at home every time it happened. Several times she has been
seen arguing with her mother. More evidence shows that she might have
kept her mother hostage inside her home. Abuse of parents still is
something no one ever talks about, Scully. It happens a lot, but it
never is outspoken."


"School?"


"No problems whatsoever. She's a brilliant kid. She's got a very high
IQ and can be considered a prodigy. Everything the child does becomes
a success. She's multi-talented. She paints, dances and plays the
piano."


"There you have it," Scully said. "Prodigies don't mix well in the
community. The girl might be pestered at school. Perhaps Zoe Kerns
didn't know how to raise her child properly. That too might have
strained her life."


"This is no ordinary child, Scully," Mulder said as he switched
highways, looking for the right exit to Grover. "This kid is outright
brilliant. I cannot use another word for it. But she's a child with a
tendency to hurt. Or to kill."


"And that's what you fear the most, isn't it?" Scully said softly,
remembering how they had once almost been drugged and killed by two
murderous girls.


"I just want to find out," Mulder said as they entered the town of
Grover.


Scully sighed. "I suggest that you find us a motel first then."



2


"It's been three weeks," the sheriff said as he put his hat on the
table and looked around the hall of the house he had seen so many
times now. Before Zo's disappearance he had hardly ever been in here.
The only time he had met Matt Kerns was at a party downtown. The man
had seemed distant and uninterested in getting to know his neighbours.


The Kerns had always been very private people, not mingling with
anyone. They had lived in Grover for over ten years. Some people still
remembered the couple getting married after living together for two
years. No one had been invited to the wedding. In fact, there hadn't
been a party. Before long Zoe had given birth to Jenny, a beautiful
baby girl. They seemed the perfect couple.


But at times Jenny had lived alone at the house for weeks while her
husband was gone on business trips. His business afforded them enough
luxury to be considered one of the wealthiest couples of Grover, but
rumours went that Zo's inheritance had something to do with that too.
Once, a few years ago, she had told one of her neighbours that her
parents had died in a plane crash and had left her everything since
she was the only daughter.


The house was a Victorian house, standing in a beautiful lane with
restored houses just like it. Its white wood shone as if it had been
painted yesterday. It was a monument that reminded the agents of the
grand houses standing in New Orleans. It took up a lot of work, but
the Kerns didn't care about that.  Matt Kerns had the habit of hiring
folks to do the work he obviously didn't want to do himself. While he
was out of state, constructors repaired and renovated his house. There
always was something to do. Gardeners fixed the lawns and flowerbeds.
And a housekeeper came two times a week to spare his wife the daily
tasks.


When asked, no one really knew Matt. Sure, they had seen him driving
around in his BMW. They knew his wife took the task upon her to drive
him back and forth to the airport in that car. Everyone knew she was
always alone at the house with her daughter. They also knew the couple
had grown apart and hardly spent any time together these days.


Rumours had it that he was having an affaire and that his so-called
business trips were merely a set-up to spend as much time with his
lover as he could. But when his wife died, he had been properly
investigated and no one could confirm this so-called affaire.


He had been questioned about his 'habits'. He had been interrogated
for hours even though he had the perfect alibi for the time of his
wife's disappearance. He had been on the other side of the country, at
a business conference. Several people had confirmed his presence
there.


When they finally located him after she was gone, he rushed home,
taking the first redeye out. He had arrived at home around eight in
the morning, staring at the empty house. Then he had seen the blood on
the woodwork and floor. He had put a hand before his mouth, gasping as
he stared at the scene. The sheriff had been a witness, picking him up
at the airport at his own request.


His daughter had stood in the kitchen door, looking at him. When he
turned towards her, she hadn't rushed into his arms. "It was as if
they hardly recognized each other," so the sheriff testified. "I had
never seen anything like it. If it had been my daughter, I would have
hugged her to death - so to speak."


Then Matt Kerns had questioned everyone as they questioned him. He had
given permission to turn his place upside down to find traces and
evidence. He had allowed them to invade his life and ask intimate
questions and give intimate remarks. He had not objected to the
investigation. But he had objected when they focused on the daughter.
He refused to let his little girl be subjected to questioning. Every
time she spoke to a policeman he had been present in the room,
interfering when they got too close.


Mulder had not responded to the sheriff's words but looked around. The
traces of blood were gone now. The house had been fixed up and cleaned
as if nothing ever happened. But there were plenty of pictures to go
through that showed every single detail of the evidence.


The murder - if and when and she was murdered - had taken place in the
main bedroom. There all the traces were very clear. Then the body had
been dragged downstairs, even though there hadn't been that much
blood. And then there was nothing left.


"Did you get the chance to confirm the blood tests?" Scully asked as
she walked into the kitchen and stared at the spotless counter. The
house had something cold over it, like it was never decorated. It
seemed impersonal. Nothing had Zo's mark on it. There were hardly any
pictures on the walls. There was nothing personal in the kitchen. It
was as if this house was up for sale, ready to be taken over by the
next couple. Yet the sheriff had told them that Matt Kerns and his
daughter still lived here. Matt hadn't taken steps to move out.


"We're positive it was Zo's blood," sheriff Green confirmed. "Her
doctor had taken samples of her blood weeks before when she came to
the ER and we compared them. There is no doubt."


"Were there scratches on the woodwork?" Mulder asked. "Is there proof
this woman fought?"


"Nothing," the sheriff said curiously. "In fact, there was no sign of
a struggle either. We do know she has been attacked upstairs in her
bedroom, as you already know. We found traces of blood on the
windowsill and glass. There was blood all over the carpet as well. She
has lost a lot. There were trickles of blood in the hallway, on the
corridor and staircase. And there were traces right in front of the
door. But nothing was turned upside down, and Jenny Kerns claims she
hasn't heard a sound."


"Have you talked to her daughter?" Scully asked. "In this report I see
a statement of the girl but that was taken by a police psychiatrist. I
was wondering if you questioned her as well?"


"I did," the sheriff confirmed. "She was the one making the call. When
we got here she opened the door and showed us in. We saw the traces of
blood instantly of course and asked her about her mother. She said
that she didn't know where she was."


"Do you believe she could be responsible for this?" Mulder asked as he
walked into the living room and rubbed his finger past the piano. A
chill ran down his spine. He felt uncomfortable in this room. In fact,
he had felt that way all over the house.


"I know what your theory is, Agent Mulder," Sheriff Green said hard,
"but I'm not buying it. How can a young girl like that be responsible
for murder?"


"She was the only inside the house. All the doors were locked. No one
could get in or out." Mulder didn't move a inch but looked straight
into the man's eyes.


The sheriff laughed cynically. "Come on, that's crap. She's ten years
old, for goodness sake!"


"We have seen child-murderers before, sheriff," Scully said to
Mulder's defence. Mulder looked aside, not able to conceal his
surprise as she continued, "everyone has evil inside him or her. Age
does not make a difference."


"You make very fast conclusions, agents," Sheriff Green said angrily,
thinking how he would feel if his little girl would be accused like
that. "You haven't even spoken to the girl."


"That's what we're planning to do now, sir," Mulder said. "Our job is
to find Mrs. Kerns and the only one that can help us do so is ten
years old. We cannot change her age or the circumstances. But you have
to put your trust in us and let us proceed. It's been three weeks and
you called the FBI for help. You've been talking to a few colleagues
of mine and asked for advice. Since you have officially handed over
this case, we want your full cooperation."


The sheriff nodded slowly. "I have spoken to your Assistant-Director
about this case and he said you were the best persons to do this.
Agent Mulder, you have a history of profiling. I've seen your name
before. I know what you can do. I hope that your background will help.
Perhaps you will be able to get through to that girl. I certainly
couldn't. But please don't expect me to believe that she could kill
her mother upstairs, drag her body downstairs and get rid of it
somewhere."


"Do you have another theory, sheriff?" Scully asked.


"No, I don't. I don't think Mrs. Kerns took off. I can't explain how
she vanished like that. That's why you're here." Sheriff Green picked
up his hat from the table and twisted it in his hands. "I know that
you have solved that case with that Santa Claus-serial killer. I saw
you on the news back then. All I hope is that you are just as
successful here."


"This is not a serial killer case, sheriff," Mulder said, "but you can
be sure that we will put our full efforts into solving it."


The sheriff nodded and said, "Jenny Kerns and her father should be
home soon. Matt knew you were coming and wanted you to do a check on
the house first. He didn't want to get his daughter more upset than
she already is. You've got about twenty minutes left to go through the
house."


"That's all we need," Mulder said, glancing at Scully.



3


Mulder walked up the stairs, into the bedroom that once belonged to
Zoe and Matt Kerns. It had been left the way the police had found it.
Matt had been sleeping in the spare bedroom since he came home. He
hadn't wanted to spend the night in a room with blood all over the
floor and window. The investigative team had left their mark as well.
Kerns had refused to believe that his wife died in that room, yet he
had refused to move back in there as well.


The room was comfortable yet very cold. Again here was hardly any
decoration at all. The walls were blank. There was no any decoration;
no paintings, no mirrors and no photos. The large bed was covered with
a white blanket that seemed to have been washed many times. It had
lost its softness.


Mulder walked over to the window and looked outside. The room looked
out on the gardens. Someone was working in them. A man, wearing a hat
for protection against the sun was working on the flowerbeds.


Below, concrete paths lead to the back of the house.


There were small scratches on the windowsill. Traces of the black
powder used to track down fingerprints were still clearly visible on
the white-painted wood. Mulder's finger scratched the wood before he
turned and examined the rest of the room.


Scully came in and watched him for a moment. She shivered, wondering
again why all the rooms felt so cold. Didn't anyone ever turn up the
heating?


Mulder looked at the floor noticing black spots on the white tiles. At
first it seemed like they followed a pattern, but they didn't. He
knelt down and rubbed the spots with his finger, trying to get them
off. But it wasn't dirt that he touched. His finger felt scratches.


"Sheriff, do you know what this is?" he asked as he pointed at the
black smudges.


"It looks like burns," Green remarked, touching the tiles with his
finger as well, wondering why he hadn't noticed this earlier. In fact,
he hadn't really paid attention to it.


"I think they might be. Could you do me a favour and take a photo of
these?"


"I would have to get my camera at the station but I could be back in
ten minutes," the sheriff said.


"Please do so, sir," Mulder said as he got back up and turned. All
around him were the same black smudges on the floor. They formed some
sort of circle around the exact spot he was standing. A cold shiver
ran down his spine.


"Can you tell me exactly where you find the most blood, Sheriff?"
Mulder asked, rising up and stepping outside of the circle.


"It was right where you were standing," Green said.


The sheriff left, promising to be right back. They were alone at the
house now.


"Don't you find it odd that there aren't any pictures in this house,
Mulder?" Scully asked as she sat down on the edge of the bed. "This
house is so cold. It's like they just moved in, yet they have been
living here for over ten years. There aren't any pictures or
decorations."


"Perhaps they were removed for some reason."


"No, there aren't any holes in the walls or traces of pictures. The
walls have been painted so we would be able to tell. It's peculiar."


"Zoe Kerns must not have wanted them in her house. Perhaps she didn't
like decorating."


"Perhaps," Scully said, walking over to the girl's bedroom. Again here
it was hardly noticeable this room belonged to a young girl. It was
just as cold as all the others. It could have been a spare bedroom.
Scully didn't open any drawers or look in closets. Somehow that seemed
too intimate.


Mulder didn't walk after her but stayed behind in the hallway. The
wooden floor showed the same black spots as the bedroom did. But the
girl's bedroom didn't have them. Mulder knelt and touched the wood.
His fingers felt the scratches again. This time the pattern didn't
form a circle. They lead from the master bedroom to the staircase.


"I think it's acid," the agent said, startling Scully as he walked
into Jenny's room.


"What?"


"Only acid can make burns like that. That's what I think they are --
burns. It would explain Zo's disappearance."


"You mean she might have been resolved in an acid bath?" Scully said
convulsed.


"It's been known to happen. The entire Russian Royal family has been
disintegrated like that. Acid doesn't leave any traces except for
fillings and stuff like that."


"It would have happened inside the house. The gardens have been
thoroughly checked. They would still have found traces of it."


"I'll check downstairs." Mulder walked down the stairs and searched
until he found a bathroom with a large bathtub. He knelt down touching
the smooth edges. There wasn't a trace of black spots or acid burns
there.


The agent left the bathroom and opened the door to the garden. The
lawn and flowerbeds were smooth and beautiful. They were perfect as if
they had been taken care of daily. If the remains of Zo's body had
been dumped here, someone would have seen it.


Mulder walked back to the house, only to see a man coming over to him.
He was attractive and charming. It didn't take an expert to see that.
A little girl held his hand. She looked beautiful and innocent.
Freckles painted her nose. Her bright blue eyes looked sad. She wore a
white dress with blue flowers on them. It looked a bit old-fashioned.
"Mr. Mulder," the man said, offering his hand. "I'm Matt Kerns."


"Pleased to meet you," Mulder said, accepting his hand while he
glanced at the girl whose face didn't speak of emotions. Only her eyes
seemed to mirror her sadness. Or was she simply uncomfortable? "I'm
very sorry for your loss."


"You are accepting the theory that my wife is dead?" Kerns asked as he
let go of Mulder's hand.


"I'm afraid that for now that is our bases to work on, yes," Mulder
said. "The circumstances of her disappearance are very disturbing and
do not point at a possible voluntarily leave." Mulder looked at the
girl and said, "You must be Jenny."


The girl nodded.


Scully walked outside and was introduced by her partner. The party
moved back into the house. Scully asked Kerns and his daughter to stay
in the living room with her while Mulder and the sheriff moved back
upstairs and took the photos. The sheriff had arrived just a few
moments after Kerns did.


Mulder scratched the floor with his pocketknife until he had some of
the black substance on the blade. Carefully he placed the knife in a
plastic evidence bag and got up.


"I'm not sure what you think this is," the sheriff said, "but at this
moment I don't think I want to know."


"I don't know what it is," Mulder said. "But if I'm correct, we might
indeed find something that is out of the ordinary."


"What are you going to do next?" Green asked resentful.


"Let's just say that the girl needs to be questioned once again,"
Mulder said. "I'm sorry, sheriff, but she's our only lead right now."


"I understand," Green said. "Let's just get this over with, shall we?"



4


The first thing Scully noticed was that Matt Kerns and his daughter
hardly spoke or touched each other. They both took place on another
couch and looked at each other awkwardly. She wondered how it had ever
gotten this far that a father considered his daughter a stranger, and
a daughter didn't turn to her father for his comfort.


Then she remembered the difficult relationship she's had with her own
father and felt sorry for the girl. This was an age where a daughter
should be counting on a mother. Now that Zoe was gone, there was no
one to inform Jenny about the normal things of life that a girl went
through.


But if Mulder was right, Jenny Kerns needed to be considered a suspect
- no matter how unlikely it was. He had been right though; they had
seen it before. Michael Holvey had been a child too when the devil got
to him. The Eve-girls were just as dangerous, attempting to kill them
without remorse.


Jenny Kerns looked like a little angel. Her hands rested graciously on
her lap. She reminded Scully of the way young, decent women were
raised during the Victorian age. She had something extremely
old-fashioned over her and it wasn't just the dress. It was everything
about her. She seemed too fragile for this world. Yet when she stared
at Scully with those angel eyes, the agent felt uncomfortable. She
could only guess at what rested in that girl's mind.


"I hope you understand that you have our full cooperation," Matt Kerns
said, sipping the drink he had poured himself. "My wife and I loved
each other very much. I want to know what happened to her. I need to
know."


"Do you have reason to believe anyone wanted to harm her, sir?" Scully
asked, taking out a notebook and pen to jot down any remarks Kerns
might have.


"Not at all. She was loved in this community. She had no quarrels with
anyone. She was a regular, beautiful woman that didn't deserve this
fate."


"It was my understanding that she didn't have many friends?"


"That is right. She had only a few friends but she preferred it that
way. She spent most of her time raising Jenny. She wanted everything
for her daughter and devoted her time to that."


"Can you tell me more about her hospital visits, Mr. Kerns?"


Matt Kerns' expression changed. "The sheriff has asked me the same
painful questions. There's not much to say about it really. She burned
herself while cooking. Or she hit her hand against the cupboard in the
kitchen. She was clumsy. It happens. She couldn't stand the pain. She
didn't know that you could treat minor burns yourself."


"Did she call you to tell you she burned herself while you were out of
town?"


"I don't remember, really. She loved to cook. She used the oven quite
a bit. She regularly burned her fingers and hands. I'm just glad she
never had a serious accident."


Kerns glanced at his daughter who sat quietly on the other couch. Her
hands still rested on her lap but her fingers fidgeted. Other than
that she could have been a statue. Her eyes glared constantly at the
piano before her.


"Do you play the piano, Jenny?" Scully asked just as Mulder and the
sheriff came in.


The girl nodded.


"Can you play a bit for us?"


The girl got up and moved to the stool before the piano, lifting the
lid. She placed her fingers awkwardly on the piano and closed her
eyes. Suddenly it seemed as if something magical took over - as if the
muse itself entered Jenny's body and told her what to do - what to
play.


Scully recognized 'Fr Elise' instantly. It was one of her father's
favourite pieces. Instantly she was brought back to the past, where
her father taught her to play this immortal piece. But she had never
been good at it. She didn't have it in her.


But this girl - this girl was brilliant. She played it with so much
heart that it moved everyone in the room - except for Mulder. Scully
relished every second of the play and when the music died, she
realized she had closed her eyes to listen.


She blinked and opened her eyes only to look at Mulder. His eyes were
focused on the girl. And then he looked at Scully, and she knew he
wanted to tell her something. As if nothing had happened Jenny slid
off the stool and sat down on the couch again. The chemistry was gone.


But something had changed about her. She seemed exhausted; empty
almost, as if to play had drained her from the inside. She moved her
hand to her face and spoke for the first time with a soft, gentle
voice. "Can I be excused, father?"


Matt Kerns glanced at Mulder who nodded. The girl moved up from the
couch and walked up the stairs. When they heard the door upstairs
lock, Mulder turned to the sheriff and said, "I think we'll be here
for a few days. Can you recommend a good hotel?"


"Sure," the sheriff said. "There's a small one in town, about five
minutes from here."


"Great," Mulder said, offering Kerns his hand. "If you don't mind,
sir, we would like to talk to Jenny tomorrow morning. I believe she
has school holidays right now?"


"Yes, she has," Kerns said. "Around nine a.m.?"


"Perfect." Mulder turned, tripped and smacked against the doorpost
with the side of his head. The blow came so unexpected that none of
them had seen it coming.


"Mulder," Scully said, standing near her partner in a second. Grabbing
his arm she saw the sudden paleness in his face. "Are you okay?"


"Yeah, I am." Mulder grinned boyishly. "Stupid of me to trip." He put
his hand to the side of his head and rubbed the spot where he had hit
the post. Scully gently let go and said, "That's going to be a hell of
a bump. What happened?"


"I just tripped." Mulder waved her hand away and glanced at Matt Kerns
who stood a few inches before them, watching him. Mulder shook his
head, ignoring the pain to his head and said, "Let's go, Scully."


Kerns showed them out after saying goodbye to Scully and the sheriff
and closed the door behind them. Mulder and Scully walked over to the
rental car, followed by the sheriff.


"You've got something, haven't you?" the sheriff said.


Mulder didn't give a direct answer to the question. "I think we need
to go over some things in the morning, sir. Right now it wasn't such a
good time to do so. It is obvious Jenny Kerns knows more than she's
telling us and we need to find out what it is. But that can wait for
now. Can we use the local hospital to research this substance for us?"


"Of course," the sheriff said, accepting the plastic bag. "I'll take
it there for you."

The sheriff hesitated for a moment before asking, "So you've agreed
with our findings that Zoe Kerns is most likely dead?"


"There never was a reason to doubt that, sir," Scully said,
understanding why the sheriff felt so defensive. It wasn't every day
that the FBI knocked on the door to investigate.


"Well," the sheriff said, "why don't you follow me and I'll show you
to the hotel. They've got an excellent restaurant and there are some
small bars nearby if you're looking for something to do tonight."


"Great," Mulder responded with a thankful smile.


The sheriff got in his vehicle and guided them to a small hotel with
twelve rooms that were hardly ever occupied. Grover was a lovely town
but it didn't exactly draw buses of tourists. It wasn't difficult for
the agents to get two adjoined rooms.


"I'll knock on your door for dinner, Mulder," Scully said as they
parted in the hallway with their overnight bags in their hands.


"Just be careful not to knock my head."


"Does it still hurt?" she asked with a glint of worry.


"Not really. My head feels a bit numb."


"Do you want a rest a bit first before we eat diner?"


"Scully, I'm fine," Mulder smiled. "I don't have a concussion or
anything. It was just a simple, stupid little accident. I don't even
know what happened."


"Half an hour then?" Scully asked, unlocking her door.


"Perfect." Scully stepped into a beautiful room that reminded her of
those English cottages one saw in magazines. It was a pleasant
surprise. She sat down on the bed and closed her eyes, still recalling
those beautiful tones the girl had played on her piano. It had been
sheer perfection.


She opened her eyes again, sighed and unpacked her bag. A quick shower
would do her good. She felt tired after the long drive and the tense
moments at the Kerns residence.


In the adjoining room Mulder sat down too and got out the file on the
missing woman and his laptop. Within minutes he was typing away
furiously as he added remarks and facts to his preliminary report. A
few minutes later he called Skinner and informed him that they would
need a couple of days to go through everything. The case might be more
complicated than originally thought.


Skinner agreed and asked to be kept up to date. The case had drawn a
lot of media attention and needed to be closed as soon as possible. No
one liked it when a little girl was a witness to a possible murder.
They wanted to keep the case quiet until the woman was found.


When Skinner asked him what his first thoughts were, Mulder gave a
vague answer. He wasn't willing to give away his vision just yet. If
he did, the investigation would soon be over.



5


The sheriff had not been lying when he said the restaurant offered an
excellent meal. After spending over an hour at the table, enjoying
homemade soup, chicken curry and chocolate mousse, Scully ordered
coffee and relaxed while enjoying a chocolate.


"So, talk to me," she finally said after they had discussed just about
anything but the case.


"What do you mean?" her partner asked, quasi-innocent.


"Come on, Mulder. I know you too well. You've got a theory, don't you?
You're pursuing your child-killer theory."


"Says who?"


"I can see it in your eyes. They've got this little glint in them that
you always have when you want to tell me some wacky theory but don't
know how to start explaining it. I know you too well."


He pulled a face and grinned. "How long have we been working together
now - seven years or so? You know a lot about me, Scully, but you
still don't know how my mind works."


"Of course I do. You see things and put them in that photographic
memory of yours and then you tell me what you're thinking. Then I'll
argue with you, counteract your theory and then we somehow get in
trouble while trying to resolve this case."


"You're being paranoid," Mulder grinned. "Besides, who's talking
trouble?"


"I am. I know us."


"We're just here to solve this case. Isn't that what you said to me
seven years ago?"


"It is," she smiled. "And you're right - that's what we're here for.
But when you have this theory to share with me, I'm sure I'll be going
"Oh Brother" and then you'll try to convince me that you're right. Am
I correct so far?"


He smiled. "I guess so." He drank his coffee and put the cup down
again. "What did you think of that girl's piano-play?"


"It was brilliant. I've never seen or heard anything like it. She's
much better than most adult pianists. She might have the muse in her.
If she does, I hope she pursues it. She's got a career ahead of her
that could take her to see the world."


"Do you believe she's a prodigy?"


"I don't know. According to you she's good at everything she does.
Does that rank her a 'prodigy' or child-wonder?


"Do you know how prodigies are created?"


"They're not created - they are born," Scully corrected. "You cannot
develop your brain in order to become brilliant. You have to have it
in you. You're born with it."


"Like some people have a feel for language and others for maths?"


"Exactly," Scully said. "There are tests that can determine a child's
development when its two or three years old. Those tests are fairly
accurate because a child - even at that age - will be brilliant. The
results cannot be altered or fixed."


"Do you know how many children are child wonders?"


"Not many. I read somewhere that approximately one out of three
hundred children has an above-average IQ," Scully said, wondering
where her partner was taking her.


"Do you know how extraordinary it is that this child wonder is good at
everything?"


"I don't know," Scully said. "You tell me."


"It's fairly implausible and impossible." Mulder leaned back and
looked at a couple sitting at another table. They were laughing and
holding hands. "I have a photographic memory, Scully. Yet that doesn't
make me good at playing the piano or painting. I'm good at
remembering, at analysing. I do what I'm good at. But I still trip
over my own feet and I still can't play 'Fr Elise' like a pro."


"What's your point, Mulder?" Scully asked interested.


"My point is that there are prodigies out there, but they're very
rare. That's why they're considered so valuable. During college there
was this friend I had. He was considered a child-wonder. He had
skipped years in high school. He was brilliant in all his studies but
he always flunked at psychology. He just couldn't put himself in
someone else's shoes. He wasn't cut out for it. Yet at science he knew
more than anyone I had ever seen. He was very clumsy and tripped all
the time. He sucked at football and basketball. But when you asked him
anything, he knew the answer. He became a science professor and
inventor. Now he knows what he's good at and how he can use his
abilities."


"And you're saying that that is how it usually works?"


"Exactly. My point is that this girl does everything correct -
according to the people that know her. She plays brilliant piano, she
read when she was four and she dances like a ballerina. Her grades are
sublime. She has no flaws. By the time she's twelve she'll probably
speak three languages. She doesn't trip or fall over. She's not
clumsy. Everything she does is sheer perfection."


"That makes her a brilliant young girl that will grow up to become a
brilliant adult."


"But is she this brilliant because of she was born to be so, or has it
been orchestrated somehow?"


Scully put her napkin down, her eyes catching Mulder's. "You're saying
that she's been cheating?"


"I'm saying that she might not be as perfect as we think she is. She
might have help from the outside. She might be using paranormal
abilities to become this beyond perfect person." Mulder drank the last
bit of cold coffee and frowned. "There was something in her eyes,
Scully. When she sat down at that piano, she didn't know what she was
doing. She placed her hands on the keys as if she had no clue on how
to play that thing. And then something happened to her. Something took
over."


"Are you saying she's possessed?"


"Call it possessed if you will." Mulder looked at his partner. "You
said that she might have the muse in her. What if she has some being
in her that makes her this perfect?"


"Might she not be a brilliant young girl that happens to be lucky and
good at everything she does?" Scully asked. "Aren't you grasping at
straws now, Mulder - trying to find something to clarify her
perfection? Why shouldn't she be who she is? Aren't we drawing
conclusions based on something we have never seen before? Every human
being is unpredictable. Everyone is born and raised differently. You
grew up realizing you had a photographic memory that helped you to
become the brilliant investigator you are. I grew up with the
knowledge that one day I would devote my life to science. This girl
grows up with the beliefs she's good at everything. There's nothing
paranormal about it, Mulder."


"Isn't there?" Mulder asked. "You cannot deny there's something
strange going on in that house, Scully. The absence of personal
belongings, the coldness that we both felt in those rooms and the way
this father and daughter behave towards each other. Haven't you
noticed that they're not grieving? They talk about Zoe as if she was
an object. She has no value to them. She doesn't fit into their lives.
She's gone and they're okay with it."


"They're in shock. There's a big difference."


"Call it whatever you want to call it. You know I'm right."


"All I know is that you're concluding things that aren't there,"
Scully said tired. "And that wine is finally getting to me. I'm off to
bed, Mulder. We can argue about this in the morning if you like, but
right now I'm just going to sleep."


Mulder smiled as he shoved his chair backwards and got up. Scully
started to yawn. They had all forgotten about the time. In the
morning, with a fresh head, they would both pursue their own ideas.
Taking the stairs Scully swayed a bit.


"Hey," Mulder said, grabbing her by the arm. "You didn't have that
much wine. Stay on your feet, partner."


Scully smiled sheepishly, allowing her partner to open the door for
her. "Goodnight, Mulder. Get some rest and stop being so paranoid."


He didn't respond but grinned and closed the door behind her. In his
room he turned on the television and sat down behind the table where
he had put his laptop. A few minutes later he was typing away, jotting
down notes that would help to put everything together.


The dull sensation to the side of his head remained.


In the room next-door Scully was fast asleep.



6


Jenny Kerns stood in the middle of the living room and stared at the
piano. Then she turned and glanced at all the objects in this room.
Everything was strange to her. She didn't know how to handle them. She
didn't know how she could go on as if nothing had happened. She could
not forget.


Her father stood in the doorway, watching her. "Do you regret that
she's gone?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.


She startled and turned. She hadn't seen him come in. "You frightened
me," she simply said. "And yes, I do miss her. She was my mother."


Matt walked over to her and grasped her arms, forcing her to look at
him. All gentleness in his features was gone. He wanted her to listen
to what he had so say. "She was useless. She held you back. She stood
in our way."


"She shouldn't have died."


Matt's grip became harder. "We have an agreement. I invested a lot in
you, Jenny and you told me you would do anything to get there. I'm
granting you your wish. Don't come crying now. It's bad enough that
the FBI is here. I don't want them near you."


"You know I must speak with them. They will suspect me even more if I
don't."


"I distrust that man. He sees right through you. You can fool the
others but you can't fool him. I don't like that." Matt shook his
daughter. "Be careful what you say to him. I'll be watching you.
Punish you if you misbehave."


The room seemed to tremble. Matt let go of her and looked around. He
didn't like the darkness. He wanted all the lights to burn. Nervous he
left the room and walked upstairs, locking himself up in the guest
bedroom. He didn't want to see his daughter for the rest of the
evening.


Downstairs Jenny still stood in the middle of the room and glanced at
all the things that didn't belong to her. She knew they had made a
mistake.

Paranoid


Part Two


1


First thing in the morning Scully drove to the local hospital to pick
up the results on the tests the sheriff had asked to do during the
night. She had been extremely tired and slept until the alarm went
off. After washing up she felt a lot better and alert.


During breakfast they hadn't said much. Mulder had looked very tired
and sometimes rubbed the side of his head. Scully wanted to ask if he
still felt pain but didn't. She knew better than to smother him with
medical questions.


After breakfast, Mulder was picked up by the sheriff and taken to the
Kerns residence. Scully would come shortly after.


Despite the good weather the house felt cold. The blinds were still
down and the sun was kept out. The rooms were filled with shadows.
Mulder wondered why they didn't like the light.


Jenny Kerns again wore a dress that somehow didn't fit her and sat on
the same couch she had chosen the night before. Her father was in the
room, standing near the window. He lifted the blinds a bit so that
sunshine lit his hair and face. He seemed in total control even though
his hands trembled.


Mulder took a seat opposite the girl so that she would be forced to
look at him. He wanted to make sure her father wasn't able to boss her
or give her signals. There was a bond between them that he needed to
break. The sheriff was in the kitchen making coffee. The rattling of
pots and coffee cups could be heard.


"Jenny," Mulder started, leaning forward. "I know this is very hard
for you. You've been talking to a lot of police lately and you want it
all to stop. But you also know that your mother still hasn't been
found and that Agent Scully and I are here to find her."


"Yes, sir," the girl said polite, waiting for him to continue.


Mulder leaned back, disturbed by the dull pain to his head that seemed
to become worse. He stopped, rubbing his temples as if he was
thinking. He took a deep breath and focused on the girl, trying to
concentrate on what he was here to do.


"Please, call me Mulder," he said, looking at the girl again.
"Everyone does."


"Is that your first name?"


"No. My first name is Fox, but no one uses that. So Mulder will do
just fine." Mulder relaxed a little, glancing at the girl's father who
still stood near the window. His eyes pierced in Mulder's as if he
tried to tell him what to ask. Mulder turned his back on the man again
and made sure Jenny didn't see him.


"Jenny," the agent said, trying to get through the girl's armour. "Did
you get along well with your mother?"


"Yes, I did."


"Were there ever fights or arguments, or things that you didn't like
about her?"


"No. She gave me everything I wanted. She drove me to school and
ballet class and piano class. She made sure I got everywhere in time.
She prepared my food and made sure that I got to bed on time. She took
care of me."


"But did she care for you?"


The girl's eyes darkened. "What do you mean, si - Mulder? I don't
understand the question."


"I think you do. You speak of your mother as if she was someone that
took care of you like a housekeeper would do. She did everything for
you. But did you love her?"


Matt Kerns jumped away from his spot as if bitten by a bug. "What the
hell kind of question is that?" he snapped. "What questions are you
asking a ten-year-old girl? She shouldn't be taking this!"


"You know," Mulder said as he got up from his seat, "I have the
feeling that everyone's hiding behind Jenny's age here. But she's much
older than we all think, isn't she?"


"You're talking nonsense, Agent Mulder," Matt snapped.


Mulder frowned. That damned headache seemed to become worse now. It
was pounding like a sledgehammer, forcing him to realize he should
have taken Scully's advice and rest. He felt frustrated. "I mean that
Jenny is wise and sensible enough to know what is right and wrong. I
just want to know what she's feeling. What she saw."


The room seemed to tremble before his eyes. Mulder got up, grasping
soft pillows that lay on the couch. They didn't support him enough. He
swayed on his feet, trying to get a grip on where he was and what he
was doing there.


"Agent Mulder," Sheriff Green said, grabbing Mulder's arm as he pushed
him back on the couch. "Are you okay?"


It took Mulder a lot of effort to admit it, but supporting his head
with both hands and barely able to look up, he said, "I don't think
so. Could you please call Agent Scully for me?"



2


"How do you feel?" Scully said, touching his face with the back of her
hand.


"Better," he sighed, trying to get up.


"No, stay down." Scully's grip was firm when she forced her partner to
stay put. Mulder sighed, not willing to fight back this time. It only
worried Scully more. "Does it still hurt?"


"A bit. It feels numb more than anything. I don't even know what
happened."


"You nearly went out of your mind with pain, that's what. You don't
remember what happened, do you?"


"Not exactly," he admitted, trying to relax a bit more on the bed. He
blinked his eyes, looking around the room. They sat privately even
though in the back there was still a lot of noise coming from the
small ER. It was one of the few times he was happy to be here. At
least they had been able to take away some of the pain.


"Do you remember coming here?"


"Vaguely. You kind of shoved me in the car. I didn't have much choice
in the matter, did I?" Mulder smiled. "But don't worry, I'm not pissed
off at you. Actually, I like this drug they've given me. I feel
happy."


She grinned. "Don't get used to it. You're being released in an hour.
As soon as you feel a bit better, I'm taking you back to the hotel and
this time I'll make sure you rest."


"What about this pain?"


"Mulder, you've got a bump the size of an egg. Your head feels sore.
You slammed against the doorpost, remember? No wonder you were feeling
faint. It's normal. At least you don't have a concussion. Just a bit
of rest and tomorrow you'll be as good as new."


"I'll only go to the hotel if you're there to tuck me in."


"I always tuck you in, Mulder."


Mulder grinned and relaxed a bit as he leaned against the soft pillows
of the Emergency Room-bed. As long as Scully was satisfied that
nothing was wrong, he was satisfied. Less than an hour later the IV
that fed the pain medication through his system was removed and Mulder
relaxed his sore arm. Scully drove him to the hotel.


Even though it was only three p.m. Mulder didn't have any trouble
taking a nap on his bed. Scully left the room and called the sheriff's
department from her own room, informing him her partner was okay.
Green seemed worried when he said that Matt Kerns had called the FBI
in Washington to complain about Mulder. Kerns as much as admitted it
when he called the sheriff to tell him the FBI-agents were no longer
welcome in his house.


Scully felt a chill when a few minutes later her cell phone went off
and Skinner told her they were summoned back to Washington. The AD
didn't sound too pleased when he reprimanded her on their methods and
theories.


When she hung up, Scully knew they were in for trouble. Mulder wasn't
going to give up. Nothing would stop him once he was on the trail of
something that held his interest long enough. In this case he was sure
he was right. Instinctively Scully realized as well that there was
something going on that couldn't be seen on the surface. But deep
down, beneath all those layers of distrust and lies, the truth about
Zoe Kerns' death could and would be revealed.



3


She walked inside Mulder's room and watched her partner as he rested
peacefully on the bed. But when she closed the door quietly, he opened
his eyes and said, "Skinner called, didn't he?"


She frowned, not willing to tell him the truth just yet. It would
upset him. But she had no choice and wasn't planning on lying to him.
"Yes," she said.


"Well, he can come here and pick me up if he wants to. I'm not going
anywhere."


Scully noticed the stubborn streak in her partner's face as he spoke
and knew he wasn't leaving. She sank down desperately on the side of
the bed. How could she tell him she didn't want to investigate this
case in the first place? That she got a chill that seemed to come
straight from hell whenever she walked in between those walls? She
couldn't stand being there. Yet at the same time everything that was
sensible about her told her she was overreacting. There was nothing in
that house. There couldn't be.


"Scully, what is it?" he asked as he made himself more comfortable.
"What's wrong?"


"Everything's wrong," she said glum. "This whole case leads to
nowhere. There's nothing more we can do but wait and hope this woman
turns up again. We've explored the house and found nothing. Her
daughter and husband aren't willing to talk to us. And Skinner wants
us to come back to Washington. Kerns has threatened to sue the FBI
should we pursue our investigation. What is there for us to do around
here?"


"A woman died," Mulder said seriously. "You cannot deny we've been
lied to."


"I'm not denying that. I'm just saying that I don't feel like staying
here while we don't even know where to start. It's like that needle in
the haystack you were referring to earlier, Mulder. Besides, the fact
that you still think this little girl is responsible for her mother's
death, comes to show that we haven't gotten any closer to the truth."


Mulder moved up from the bed, swaying a bit as he stood on both legs.
But at least the headache subsided and he was able to walk about
without that sledgehammer pounding on his skull. He filled a glass of
water on the dresser and drank it. Glancing in the mirror he caught
Scully's look. She looked distressed and worried. But what was she
really worried about?


"I'm sorry", she said as if she had guessed his thoughts. "I don't
know what is happening to me. I'm afraid." She just blurted it out. In
shock he turned and looked at her. When he sat down beside her, he
grasped her trembling hands and took her in his arms. She leaned into
him.


"I'm so tired, Mulder," she whispered as she closed her eyes. "I don't
know what is going on with me but I've been tired ever since we got
here. Everything's just too much for me. And then there is Jenny. When
she played, that little girl, I felt a shock. I was thrown back into
my past and forced to see things I didn't want to see."


"What are you talking about?" Mulder asked gently, rocking her as if
she were a child.


"I used to play that piece for my father. When I watched that little
girl play the piano - that piece in particular - I saw myself as I
were when I was little. I remembered how my father told me that piece
was the most important piece of music ever written. It had everything
in it; soul, beauty and pain. Of all the pieces she could have played,
she chose that one and when I listened to it, I realized how much I
missed my father."


Scully's teary eyes stared at Mulder as she tried to grasp at the pain
that clawed at her heart. "It has been seven years now," she
whispered, "and I still miss him. But I've been afraid to say it out
loud. It's like a pain that lives inside of me every single day."


"Why didn't you talk to me about it?" Mulder whispered, wiping the
tears from her cheeks with his index fingers.


"I didn't even know it was there," she answered. "I didn't realize it
existed until I saw her. And I think that's why I'm so afraid to go
back to that house. I hate it there. I hate the atmosphere created by
parents that obviously wanted the best for their child but somehow
succeeded in making a prison for her."


"Do you think that girl is being abused?"


"Physically? No. Mentally? Yes. Every single day of her life. She
should be living a regular life, Mulder, not one of a prodigy. She
aches for friendship yet all she receives is questions about her
mother's death. I don't think she killed her mother. I think she
genuinely is innocent."


"No." Mulder got up from the bed, supporting his head as the headache
returned. "She is guilty, Scully. I think she's manipulating us
somehow. The way I tripped and hit my head against that post - I may
be clumsy but I'm not that clumsy. The reason why she played 'Fr
Elise' is because she knew it meant a lot to you. She's been toying
with us, Scully. She wants us to leave because Zoe Kerns has been
buried somewhere inside that house."


"What?" Scully stared in shock at her partner as he continued to
explain his thoughts.


"It's so obvious now. The Kerns never had many friends. The only
reason why those traces of blood stopped is because the body is
somewhere inside the house! Think of it. The sheriff told us this
house has a history. It dates back from the Victorian age, just like
all the others here. It's been renovated years ago, when the Kerns
moved in. What if there are rooms in that house we don't even know
about? And what if that girl is possessed by something - an entity, a
ghost or something that lives inside that house and makes her this
brilliant?"


"Come on, Mulder," Scully said hard, "listen to yourself and to what
you are claiming. How can a woman's body be buried in a house that has
been thoroughly examined by several law-enforcement officers? I can
understand what you're saying but it doesn't make any sense! Why are
you so keen on accusing this girl? What you're saying is out of
control! You tripped because you were clumsy. She played 'Fr Elise'
because it's one of the most-played pieces in the world. There's
nothing paranormal about it."


"I'm not paranoid, Scully. I'm not seeing ghosts here. But we've
encountered poltergeists before. We've dealt with mind-manipulation.
This is not as far-fetched as you think. It's in fact a very real
possibility that we need to explore."


Scully got up tired. "We're going home, Mulder."


"I want to check up on that house," Mulder said stubborn. "I want to
explore its history and see if there have been more disappearances or
girls like Jenny Kerns. I will find out."


"Skinner ordered us to come home."


"Did he say when?"


"No," she responded weak, rubbing her eyelids. Why was she this tired?
All she wanted to do was sleep for the rest of the evening.


"Good, that gives us another night. We're going home in the morning
but tonight I'm going to find out what is going on. Agreed?"


"Mulder, you should rest," Scully began as her partner grabbed his
jacket and put on his shoes. "We've been to the ER with you. You can't
just -"


"I can and I will," Mulder said, ignoring the bursting headache that
had returned in full. "You can stay here if you like but I'm going.
I'm not giving up. Matt Kerns can sue the FBI all he likes. He knows
the truth and I'm going to find it out."


"Do what you like, Mulder," Scully said fatigued. "Just let me know
where you're heading."


Her partner's eyes softened as he notices she was really tired. Gently
he said, "I'll call you, Scully. I'm just going to head over to the
library to do some checking up on that house. I won't do anything
rash, I promise."


She smiled. "Why don't I believe that?"


He grinned back, closing the door behind him. She stayed behind in his
room and lay down on his bed. Before long she was sound asleep, not
caring about anything anymore.



4


Grover's library wasn't big but held enough information on the old
Victorian houses to help Mulder further. Before long he sat behind
three dusty books that hadn't been opened for years. As the librarian
told him, the last time anyone had been interested was when Congresman
Matthews had fallen down the stairs of his vacationing home in Grover,
breaking his neck. And that was ten years ago.


Ten years, Mulder thought as he opened the guide and explored
carefully all the photos sometimes taken over three decades ago. The
books weren't of much interest anymore. The names in it were long
gone. A lot of the houses had been restored and sold for huge amounts.


Suddenly the agent stumbled on a black-and-white photo of the mansion
that was now inhabited by the Kerns. There was no doubt about it; this
was the house he had visited. The white walls were still as white, but
the fences and doors probably had different colours. There was no
telling.


Mulder quickly reviewed what was written of the house. There wasn't
much. The house had been built in 1891, when the English family
McKinsey came to the United States to start anew. They left a family
behind near London.


The McKinsey's stayed in the Grover-area until the late 1930's. Then
recession struck and they were forced to sell. The grandson of the
original McKinsey sold the house to a local family who moved in and
lived there until the early '60's.


That's as far as the guide went. There was no mention of any bizarre
happenings at 'Greenwood Cottage', for that was the name originally
handled by the McKinsey's. Mulder took a long shot by searching the
Internet on the name 'Greenwood Cottage' but came up empty-handed. All
he could do was check the other books. Those too didn't leave him any
trace.


"You look disappointed," the librarian remarked as he paid for the use
of the books.


"I am a bit," Mulder said. "I was hoping to find more on the house I'm
looking into, but I couldn't find anything."


"What house might that be?" the librarian asked as she put away the
money. "I've lived in Grover all my life. There's nothing I don't
know."


"The house used to be called 'Greenwood Cottage'."


The librarian smiled. "You should have said that immediately. My
father used to work for the Walsh family until they sold the house in
'90. Wait a minute - are you reporter? Everyone's been in town after
Mrs. Kerns disappeared. They all thought her husband did it but he was
out of town. I still think he hired someone to do it though."


Mulder smiled and leaned over from one conspirator to another. "What
can you tell me about that house?"


"Nothing much to say really. Beautiful Victorian style. It's been
mentioned in several guides. But they say it's haunted. I can't blame
them after what happened to Mrs. Walsh and her daughter."


"What did happen?" Mulder asked interested.


"Didn't they tell you? What newspaper do you work for anyway?"


"The Washington Post," Mulder said. "I'll be sure to mention your name
in my article as my reliable source."


The librarian blushed. "Would you really? Well, I suppose it can do no
harm really, can it? It's been so long. My father told me that the
Walsh family has been terribly cut up by the events and haven't been
themselves since. They live in Chicago now, you know. They couldn't
bear stay here after what people thought of them."


"Can you tell me what happened?"


The librarian looked around and then moved forward a bit so that she
was leaning closer to him. "Ellie Walsh disappeared just like that.
But they say she left with her lover. She had a lover, you know. One
of the gardeners my father used to work with. He was a young, handsome
man. And she was beautiful too and everyone knew the marriage was
faltering. So she went to bed with him and they say she was pregnant
and that's why she left. But then her daughter Danielle died too. She
was only fourteen years old and oh so bright. She had a very high IQ.
She could do just about anything!"


"Who was that man she supposedly ran away with?" Mulder asked.


The woman smiled. "That's the best part. He came back after a few
years and bought the house, marrying another woman!"


"Matt Kerns?" Mulder asked in shock.


"That's right. He was only eighteen years old when Ellie Walsh
disappeared. He left for college and came back with another woman."


"Why wasn't the police informed about this?"


"Oh, but the local sheriff knew about it. No one could prove he was
having an affaire with his employer but they all believed the
suspicions."


"Thank you," Mulder said with a smile as he put his hand on the
librarian's. "You've been very helpful."


"When is that article coming out?" she asked as he left.


"Next week," Mulder said, not turning around. "Be sure to check the
newspapers!"

As the doors closed behind him, the agent took a deep breath and
blinked at the strong sunlight in his eyes. It was time to get some
things out in the open.



5


The sheriff's surprise was great when Mulder entered the office.

"Agent Mulder," he said, "I didn't know you were up and about! What
are you doing here?"


"We need to talk, sheriff," Mulder said, glancing at the deputies that
looked strangely at him. "In your office, please."


Green knew better than to argue with an FBI-agent, even when that
agent was officially no longer on the case. He guided the man to
another room where they sat down together. Green offered him coffee,
which he refused. It was after six p.m. and some of the deputies were
heading home.


A glance through the room revealed that Green had a wife and daughter
and loved them a lot. There were at least three photos of them on the
desk. There were a lot of files lying around. The place looked
disorganized.


"Why didn't you tell me Matt Kerns was involved in another
disappearance?" Mulder started.


The sheriff stared at him in shock. "That's confidential. How -"


"I had a very interesting chat with the local librarian who told me
all about it. How dare you leave this piece of evidence behind? How
dare you lie to us about it?"


"I didn't lie," Green said hard. "I didn't think it was relevant."


"Why the hell not? A man is suspected of being involved in a woman's
disappearance. Ten years later the same thing happens! Are you going
to wait until this daughter dies too?"


"The Walsh girl and Jenny Kerns have got nothing to do with one
another. All of this has been a terrible coincidence. Matt Kerns
wasn't in the state when his wife died. He wasn't there when Mrs.
Walsh disappeared. We questioned him and he denied the affaire. We had
nothing to go on. When he moved back, he took a great risk. No one
wanted him here but he managed to help us forget the past. He had a
daughter and wanted to move on. And so he did."


"How did he buy the house? Did he use an intermediate? I cannot
imagine Mr. Walsh selling the house to him."


"He bought it through an auction. There was no reason for Mr. Walsh to
question him."


"I cannot believe you didn't tell us," Mulder said hard. "This changes
everything, doesn't it?"


"Why?" Green said bitterly, "do you suddenly step back from your
theory that Jenny Kerns did it? I'm glad then that this at least has
been changed. How dare you come into my town and accuse a little girl
of a murder? It was absurd to begin with."


"Did you tell Matt Kerns he could file a complaint against me?" Mulder
asked as his head started to explode. He needed to rest a bit but
right now he couldn't afford it. He only had a little time left to
find out the truth.


"That's even more absurd. Of course not!"


"Did you tell him to contact Assistant-Director Skinner?"


"He asked me who to contact, yes."


"And you gave him my boss' name?"


"Yes, I did," Green said. "I had to. I didn't do it to screw you
around, Agent Mulder. It was my obligated duty as a law-enforcement
officer to respond to the calls of one of the citizens of Grover. And
to be honest, I think it's a good thing you are going back to
Washington. It's been a mistake requesting the FBI's assistance once
again. You should realize that these people are not very happy with
the way you've handled things. That so-called substance you had me
check out was nothing. Agent Scully told me it couldn't be identified.
It was scratches. It wasn't acid. It was nothing but a long shot. Can
you imagine how discontent the lab was?"


"I'm sure they were upset," Mulder said. "I haven't been happy with it
either. But I am telling you this, Sheriff Green. Zoe Kerns has been
buried inside that house. Either you're with me or against me. If
you're with me, you will be finding out tonight where. You will not
rest until you find out the perfect hiding place inside 'Greenwood
Cottage'. Even if I go back to Washington in the morning without the
answers, you are going to get those to me. Zoe Kerns deserves that
much."


Sheriff Green calmed down as he watched the pale FBI-agent who seemed
to sway on his feet as he got up to leave. "Are you alright, Agent
Mulder?" he asked worried.


"I'll be okay," Mulder said, not glancing back at the sheriff as he
leaned heavily against the door. "I'll see you later."


"Will you be going back?"


"In the morning," Mulder said softly. "In the morning ..."


"I'm sorry, Agent Mulder," Green said before the other man closed the
door.


"So am I," Mulder said. "So am I."


Mulder left the sheriff's office and walked back to the hotel on foot.
He was so tired he could just drop on the spot and sleep. The darkness
was slowly setting in. Mulder shivered as he realized he was cold in
his jacket. There was going to be a storm tonight. One could already
feel it build up.


The streetlights were slowly being lit. The scene changed as several
folks were lighting their living rooms and kitchens as well. Mulder
didn't pay attention. He just wanted to get back to the hotel and
sleep.


His cell phone went off. He picked up believing it would be Scully.

"Yeah?" he said.


"Agent Mulder, it's Jenny Kerns," a young voice said. "I need to speak
with you."


"Do we still have anything to say, Jenny?" Mulder couldn't help but
ask.


There was a silence and then the voice continued. She sounded
frightened. "Please, Agent Mulder. I want to talk to you about my
mother. I think I know where she is."


"Are you at home alone?"


"Yes, I am. Dad's gone. He's not coming back soon. I'm afraid, Agent
Mulder."


"I'll be right over," Mulder said as he hung up and looked down Main
Street. The hotel was just five minutes away but he had a feeling of
urgency over him. He called Scully's cell phone but she didn't pick
up. Finally her voicemail jumped on and he left a message, telling her
he was heading over to the Kerns' residence.



6


When Mulder walked back down the street towards the lovely lane where
'Greenwood Cottage' had been standing for over a hundred years, a car
entered Grover and stopped in front of the sheriff's department.


Sheriff Green still sat quietly behind his desk, recalling Mulder's
arguments as a bald man knocked on his door, raised his badge and
said, "I'm Assistant-Director Skinner. I'm trying to locate my agents.
Can you help me?"


Sheriff Green nodded.



7


The door of 'Greenwood Cottage' stood invitingly open. Mulder knocked
on its post and looked inside the large hallway. Before him stood
Jenny.


When he stepped forward, the door closed with a bang behind him,
trapping him. Mulder looked around frightened and realized too late he
had been set up.


The next moment he lay unconscious on the floor as thick trickles of
blood found their way down his face.

Paranoid


Part Three



1


"Agent Scully, open the door!"


It took Scully a long time to realize that the voice she heard wasn't
coming from the deepest of her dreams but from outside the room. And
even then, it didn't sound as if someone was banging on the door of
this room.


Sleepy she moved up and about, opening the door with difficulty. As
she looked at the room besides hers, she realized in a shock that it
was Skinner trying to get her to open the door to the room where she
was supposed to be staying. The hotel manager stood beside him.


"Sir?" she asked sleepy, causing Skinner to look aside. In his eyes
rested curiosity and anger, and at the same time a realization. He was
wondering what she was doing in Mulder's room.


"Agent Scully," he said, moving closer to her. "What's going on?
Where's Mulder?"


It took Scully another couple of minutes to realize she had been
sleeping for hours in Mulder's room and her partner hadn't checked in.
Vaguely she remembered their argument earlier in the afternoon. He had
taken of to investigate the history of the house. And she had simply
fallen asleep on his bed.


"I don't know," she said. "I wasn't feeling well."


"You?" Skinner asked curiously. "I thought Mulder was the one ending
up in the ER?"


"That's right, sir," Scully attempted to explain, "but he was feeling
better and we were planning on heading back."


"In the morning, right?" Skinner frowned. "I thought as much."


"Is that why you are here, sir? To check up on us?" Scully felt a
stint of anger bottling up.


"I know you, Agent Scully," Skinner said, not even attempting to
explain his actions. "No, I'll correct that. I know Agent Mulder.
Let's just say that I've come over to make sure you two are heading
home. Plus, I want to talk to Mr. Kerns in person and tell him he
shouldn't bother suing the FBI. This investigation has happened
legally."


"So you came to defend us?"


"If you want to call it that. Now, where's Mulder?"


"I don't know." Scully glanced around until she realized her cell
phone was still in her room. She had dropped everything there when she
had come over earlier to talk to Mulder. "Let me see if I can track
him down," she said, locking Mulder's room and guiding Skinner to
hers.


Her cell phone started ringing as soon as they got in. It was her
voicemail warning her there was a message. "Damn it," Scully frowned
as she listened. "Mulder's gone to the Kerns' house. He's been
contacted by Jenny Kerns."


Scully hung up and looked at Skinner. "Sir, I don't know how to tell
you this but I've got a bad feeling. I shouldn't have fallen asleep
but I - I was so tired. I didn't know what happened. Mulder's in
trouble. I can feel it."


"When isn't he in trouble?" Skinner mumbled but he was sorry about his
words when he watched Scully's serious face. She was very worried. He
could tell by the way she grabbed her things and above all made sure
her gun was strapped on carefully.


"Please, sir. Now is not the time to argue," she said. "We just have
to get Mulder out of there."


Skinner nodded and said, "Let's go then. I'll drive. You guide the
way."


Scully felt grateful for Skinner's presence and absence of questions
as they hurried through the hallway towards the car. She couldn't
explain it but she knew somehow her partner was in trouble. She could
feel it in her bones.


Outside the lightening struck for the very first time, knocking out
every light in town.


2


"Jenny?" Mulder asked, approaching the girl. She still stood moving
less in the middle of the room. She seemed hypnotized.


"Don't bother asking her questions," a voice from the top of the
stairs said. Mulder looked up and saw Matt Kerns' face. The artificial
light lighted his eyes. "She hasn't been feeling well."


"She called me," Mulder said. "Do you know why?"


"No. She was surprised when I came back." Matt Kerns walked down the
stairs and touched his daughter's face. The girl looked up at her
father. She still seemed in trance. He touched her chin and smiled.


Suddenly the lights flickered and the earth seemed to move underneath
their feet. Mulder grabbed the dresser in the hallway and held on
tight to stay on his feet. Kerns let go of his daughter, dropping hard
on hands and knees. The girl too seemed to fall. She sank through her
knees and rested on the floor. "What the hell -!" Kerns muttered as
every light in the house flickered once again. But they stayed on for
now.


"It's the storm," Mulder said. "Lightening."

He didn't believe his own words. Something in the house was alive -
making it shake like this. It was that thing that had created this
entire situation. Perhaps it was the devil impersonated. One of the
lights went out. It became darker in the room.


Mulder reached for his flashlight and shone it down the hall. Kerns
got up. His daughter stayed on the floor.

"Come on, Jenny," Matt said, trying to lift her up. The girl didn't
respond. Her eyes were fixed on the stairs. She seemed to see
something they didn't.


"She's not well," Mulder said. "We should get her out of here."


"My daughter is just fine."


Mulder knew there was no way he could argue with this man. He didn't
seem to understand what was going on. How could he when he closed his
eyes against that which made this house a hell to his daughter?


The girl now looked at her father, focusing on him. There was a bond
between the two of them no one could break. Mulder didn't like the way
they glared at one another. Quickly he stepped between the two so that
their eyes couldn't meet any longer. He knelt down, shaking the girl
gently. "Jenny, listen to my voice. Try to concentrate. We need to get
you to a doctor. You're not well."


A soft wind blew through the hallway. It brushed through Mulder's
hair. The agent rose up and looked around. There was nothing to see.
He turned to speak to Kerns again. Then, out of the blue, something
hard hit him over the head, sending him against the small table with
the Chinese vase Zoe Kerns had selected so carefully. It was the only
piece she had bought for the hallway during the ten years she had
lived in the house.


The agent fell to the floor, pulling the table with him. The vase
broke in hundreds of large and small pieces. They covered the floor
all about and fell on his hair and rest of his body. The last thing
Mulder remembered was falling face down as a strong, sharp pain to the
side of his head sent him into oblivion.



3


The earth seemed to move again. Mulder didn't dare open his eyes,
feeling nauseated and downright bad. He was lying on cold tiles, still
face down. But his hands were tied behind his back. He couldn't move
them. The rope cut into his wrists.


He lay uncomfortable, tasting his own blood that had trickled to the
side of his mouth. When he opened and licked his dry lips, he tasted
that strange flavour of thick blood. The side of his head felt numb;
his cheek sticky. The pain he had felt before was nothing compared to
this. He could barely think straight. In fact, thinking was out of the
question right now. It just made him feel worse.


He wanted to sleep again - to forget every sorrow and worry in the
world - but that wasn't allowed. The sharp pain to the side of his
head and temple stopped him from passing out again. He wasn't grateful
for it.


Finally he did open his eyes, afraid for what he would see. He saw
tiles underneath him. The pattern on them made him dizzy again. It
took a long time for him to realize he was still lying in the hallway
of the Kerns' residence. And there was that strange pattern on the
floor like he had seen before. Only this pattern seemed new and was
all around him. He couldn't remember it being there the last time he
walked down the hall.


And his cell phone went off in his pocket. No one lifted it out and
answered it. It didn't bring anyone back to the hallway to see what
the noise was about.


For a while he thought he was alone in the house. There was nothing
but silence. But he wasn't. He could hear footsteps somewhere behind
him, in the small storage room behind the kitchen. The kitchen door
stood wide open. He realized Matt Kerns was probably there.


He tried to move. His legs weren't tied together. Slowly he brought
his head up, instantly closing his eyes again as he rested his head
against the cool wall. He felt feverish and sick. It took all he had
in him to resist the urge to puke his guts out. He left marks of blood
on the wall where he rested his head. Beneath him were spots of blood
as well. But he couldn't care less.


He had to get out of here. But how, when his legs couldn't even carry
him for two steps? He couldn't manage on his own terms. He needed
help. Suddenly, right in front of him, a banging shook him up. He
heard a voice call out his name. In the back of his mind the memory to
his partner returned. She was only inches away from him!


He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't utter a single word. He
wasn't gagged. Yet his mind couldn't persuade his vocal cords to
produce a sound. All the time the banging just continued.


He tried to get on his feet without using his hands. But the moment
his weary mind told his feet and legs to act, he simply slumped
forward, nearly hitting the wooden front door in the process. Fatigued
he stayed down, his body heaving as he rested on those cold tiles once
again. His mind simply wouldn't function anymore. The blow to his head
had the equivalent of a hammer cracking his skull.


Scully, he thought as he listened to her voice behind that door. The
banging stopped. He heard footsteps. Then he just remained on the
floor until darkness finally came again to take him away.


4


Skinner watched his female agent as she continued to bang on the door,
desperately trying to get someone to open it for them. But the door
wouldn't open. And the house remained dark. "You're sure Mulder is in
there?" Skinner asked. "Couldn't he have gone somewhere else?"


"That's what the voicemail said," Scully insisted. "He has to be in
there."


"Then we'll break in." Skinner walked to the side of the house, trying
to catch a glimpse of what was going on in there. All he could see was
darkness. There wasn't a single light burning in that house. Yet he
could spot a flickering of what appeared to be a candle.


"Sir, we need a search warrant," Scully said. "We can't go in that
house without a valuable reason. If we catch Matt Kerns in the act,
every court in this country will set him free without the correct
legal actions."


"You know we can't do that right now," Skinner responded seriously.
"Not before we know for a fact he's in there, Scully. No judge would
allow it unless it was a very urgent matter."


"This is an urgent matter. My partner's in there."


"We don't have proof that he's in any immediate danger. This is a
victim's house, not a suspect's residence."


"Both victim and suspect live in that house, sir. Doesn't that give us
the valid reasons we need for a warrant?"


"Is that what you believe, Agent Scully?" her boss said formal, trying
to get her to realize that she should go against everything she
believed in to save her partner. But she didn't need persuasion. Now
all the pieces cluttered inside that scientific mind of hers came
together and formed the puzzle she had been looking for.


Her eyes focused on her boss. Her voice sounded firm and serious when
she said, "Yes, sir. I believe that Jenny Kerns is a killer.
Officially I have no reason to doubt my partner's theory."


"Then that is what we'll use. I'll contact HQ and tell them what we
need. We can't go in that house with the warrant, but I can get it
over the phone. The formalities will have to come later."  To support
his words, Skinner reached for his cell phone and called Washington.
It was after eight but it cost him no effort to speak with the right
person.


Scully had walked to the back of the house, trying to find an open
door. The kitchen curtains were closed too. But the flickering of
light she had seen before was now in this room. The people inside the
house had moved. They were still moving back to forth.


Suddenly the curtains were pulled back and in the night Scully saw a
face looking straight back at her. It was Matt Kerns. His mocking eyes
challenged her. And behind him, on the floor, lay her partner. It only
took a second for her to burn that image in her mind just before the
curtain closed once again. The body lying on the kitchen floor bled
and didn't move.


"Sir!" she said, getting Skinner's attention. The Assistant-Director
got off the phone and stood beside her, trying to look inside. The
curtains were already closed again. Instinctively Scully reached for
her gun. Angry with herself for waiting for the official warrant, she
moved her arm and elbow to break the window. She knew that she
couldn't get in from this side. The French living room windows were
much larger.


"We've got the warrant," Skinner said. "They're faxing it to Sheriff
Green right now. He'll be here soon."


"I don't care," Scully said hard, rushing to the tall window.
"Mulder's hurt. He could already be dead! That's all the warrant I
need."


"No," Skinner said, stopping her before she could break the window.
His hand lay on her arm. Scully opened her mouth to protest angrily,
but then stepped aside when she realized her boss was going to break
the window with the force she didn't have.


"Step aside," Skinner simply said. Scully took a safe spot behind her
boss and covered her face with her jacket as he destroyed the window
with the elbow of his right arm. Splinters of glass burst all over the
living room. Both of them knocked in the remaining pieces of glass
that stuck to the posts and crawled inside. Skinner helped his agent
over the windowsill and followed.


It was freezing cold in the living room. Scully got a chill as she
stood there between the furniture that seemed as cold and dead as the
rest of the place. Both doors that lead to adjoining rooms were closed
and locked. Frustrated Scully knocked on the wood.


"Mulder's better at picking locks," she muttered apologetic as she
knelt to fiddle with the lock of the left door that lead to the
kitchen. Skinner was trying to open the other door. But they might as
well have saved themselves the trouble of breaking and entering. There
was no way they could get through to the other rooms. The doors - like
the rest of the house - were of excellent quality. Built to last.


"Keep on trying," Skinner said as he crawled back out of the window.
"I'm going to try the back door. There has to be a way of forcing to
open that kitchen door."


"What about that warrant, sir?" Scully asked, turning her face so he
could see it.


"The hell with it," Skinner mumbled as he pulled out his gun for
protection. Scully concentrated on the lock again and tried to pick it
open. Every second counted. That coldness she had felt before was
back. She hated this very spot. But she had no time to deal with
emotions. She had to find Mulder before whatever killed Zoe Kerns
would kill him too.



5


Soft noises woke him up for the second time. He moaned softly as he
opened his eyes. There were other tiles this time supporting his head
and face. He had been moved. He was lying on a black-and-white floor
he recognized. He was in the kitchen.


He heard noises nearby but couldn't make them out. His hands were
still tied but they seemed looser this time. Someone had tried to free
him. He could tell by the way the ropes were strapped around his
wrists. It had to be Jenny. She was trying to protect him against her
father! He could move his wrists slightly. But the rope still rubbed
painfully around the skin and it hurt just trying to free him.


His head burst. The bleeding had stopped but his entire right cheek
felt sticky and numb. He knew he probably had a major cut on his
temple and side of the head. Great, he thought, another concussion to
add to the list.


Someone knelt beside him. He tried to look up but couldn't from the
position he was lying in. Then strong hands moved him unexpectedly
gently so that he finally got to rest his back and head against one of
the large cupboards. He felt like crap. Nausea crept up again. He had
to force back the urge to vomit. He closed his eyes, trying to get a
grip on reality.


Only then did he realize Matt Kerns was looking straight at him. Zo's
husband looked at him in contempt as if he was worth nothing. "You,"
Mulder managed to utter. "It was you all along."


Kerns only smiled. "Of course it was me. Did you truly expect my
daughter, Agent Mulder?"


"You weren't here when she died."


"I was. And I wasn't."


"You sold your soul to the devil, didn't you?" Mulder whispered. "In
exchange for your daughter's brilliance, you made a pledge."


Matt Kerns couldn't help but laugh now that his intentions were
explained with such simplicity. It sounded so easy when someone else
said it, yet when he thought it over so many years ago, he had needed
a lot of time to comprehend the consequences.


"I guess that's what you could call it," he finally agreed. "If only
life were this simple, Agent Mulder. You could place us all in small
cubicles and put stamps on us."


"You killed Zo."


"How are you going to prove that? I wasn't in town. I wasn't a suspect
to begin with."


"You killed the other one too." Mulder blinked his eyelids furiously,
trying to make sense of it all. He felt warm and cold at the same
time. His skin felt damp. He didn't know how to deal with the pain but
shock had settled in and took away a bit of it. He shivered.


Kerns' glance changed. He knew the agent knew now. "You did, didn't
you?" Mulder whispered hoarsely. "You killed Ellie Walsh as well. Why,
Matt? Was that a part of the deal? To destroy human life in exchange
for what you want?"


"Don't we all pay prices for what should rightfully be ours?"


"Whom are you paying it to? The devil?"


"There's no such thing as the devil, Agent Mulder," Kerns laughed.
"It's all inside of us. We're all worshippers of certain causes. My
cause happens to be my own welfare. That, and the welfare of the ones
I love. Sacrifices needed to be made. Give and take, that's how it
works."


"This is different," Mulder muttered. "Help me make sense of it."


Kerns eyes seemed dreamy when he finally spoke. "My daughter is
extraordinary, Agent Mulder. But my wife wouldn't see that. She was
afraid of Jenny. She didn't realize that what my daughter had was
unique. That what I have is just as brilliant. She couldn't grasp the
reality. I had to make the sacrifice in order to make my daughter even
more special."


"That's not why she was killed, is it?"


"Who says she's dead?"


"You know she is. Just tell me where you buried her."


Kerns' eyes focused on the floor and the tiles that lay there.
Mulder's eyes glanced downwards. Suddenly he blinked, staring at the
tiles that seemed to change colour somehow. For an instant - just a
second - he thought he saw a woman's face woven in those tiles. The
black spots that seemed so ordinary and senseless before became one
image. The agent tried to crawl back, to move away from the floor as
the spots seemed to move.


Furiously the agent blinked his eyelids, trying to make sense of it.


"You buried her in this house, didn't you?"


"It wasn't my fault," Kerns said, getting up. "You should understand
that much. I didn't make this happen. They did."


"Who?"


"The women. They were afraid of their daughters, yet I gave them all
they wanted to have. I made their children extraordinary. I gave them
all they wanted in exchange for their trust in me."


"Danielle Walsh couldn't have been your daughter," Mulder whispered.
"You were too young."


Kerns laughed. "You still don't understand it, do you Agent Mulder? I
didn't fuck Ellie Walsh. I fucked her daughter!"


"What-?" Mulder asked, trying desperately to get on his feet. He
couldn't believe what he was hearing. The ground seemed to move again.


"I fucked Danielle Walsh when she was thirteen years old, but she
wanted me to, Agent Mulder. She was in love with me. I offered her
what she wanted and told her she was going to have to pay a price. She
wanted to be extraordinary. I gave it to her. And her mother was the
price. She couldn't live with it afterwards and killed herself. She
was too weak."


"And so you went out looking for someone that would be strong enough?"
Mulder whispered.


"Who better than my own daughter?" Matt Kerns smiled. "She would have
all my qualities and more. I chose the perfect woman to bare my
daughter. I raised her in this house to become better than all of us.
My wife was her guardian. She took care of my daughter."


"Yet you killed her."


Kerns' eyes shifted nervously. "That wasn't my intention. At least,
not yet."


"Who is it that you worship then?" Mulder asked, trying to stay awake.
His eyes seemed to close automatically but he wasn't going to slip
away. Talking was all he could right now. He had to talk his way out.


"The ones that give me what I want."


"Is your daughter possessed?"


Kerns laughed. "I guess so."


"By whom?"


"They live in this house. When I need them, they show up. They make
her bright. They make her play the piano. They make sure she's
extraordinary. I discovered them when I worked here, years ago. They
connected with me and I made a pact."


"Your daughter's talents in exchange for human sacrifice." Mulder
swallowed the lump in his throat as his wrists kept on working on the
ropes that slashed the skin off his hands.


"And what a talent it is," Kerns said. "She killed my wife, Agent
Mulder. She alone did it. She didn't get what she wanted and her
mother paid for it. She summoned the spirits and told them she wanted
to get rid of her mother."


A sudden cold entered the room. The agent shivered as Kerns looked
down and smiled, "They're waiting to collect you. But you shouldn't
worry. It doesn't hurt."


The room seemed darker than it was before as strong forces entered it.
Kerns reached for Mulder's arm and supported him by his elbow, lifting
him up. Mulder would have dropped if the man hadn't supported him.
"I'll take you downstairs, Agent Mulder. It will be over soon."


Mulder's feet tripped as he refused to go with Kerns. But the man held
a strong grip on him and forced him to leave the kitchen. Just as he
did, a hard banging was heard against the backdoor and Mulder could
sense another presence in the room - a human presence.


"Mulder!" he heard a male voice shout. He heard Skinner's voice. The
Assistant-Director could see him as he broke one of the small windows
and forced his hand through it, pushing the curtain aside.


"Skinner," Mulder muttered before unseen forces slammed the door shut
behind the two men. Kerns held him loose, not expecting the agent to
fight. But with effort Mulder pulled his wrists loose from the ropes
as blood formed a pattern on the floor. With all the might he had in
him, the agent shoved Kerns aside. Kerns fell against the wall,
muttering a curse as he did.


Instead of being dragged through the hallway towards an early grave as
Kerns had planned, Mulder dropped on hands and knees and crawled up
the stairs.


It seemed as if several forces were trying to stop him. He could hear
soft, whispering voices inside his head. He blinked furiously and
moved forward fanatically, knowing he needed to buy some time. He
crawled inside the room with Kerns right behind him. Before his killer
could come in, Mulder slammed the door in his face, locking it with
his last strength.


Tired the agent remained seated, leaning heavily against the door as
Kerns banged on it, asking him politely to open. Mulder didn't respond
but listened as Kerns whispered, "You're a pain in the ass, Agent
Mulder. It's no use to fight. Just go with it and let it happen.
You'll save yourself a lot of pain. They'll come for you. Locked doors
won't stop them."


Finally Kerns turned and left. Mulder could hear his footsteps as he
walked down the stairs.  Mulder stayed alone in the room where Zo
Kerns had sought refuge. It hadn't helped her much. Mulder couldn't
help but wonder what her last actions had been.


With effort the agent got up, swaying towards the window. He looked
outside and saw Skinner, still trying to unlock the backdoor that lead
straight into the kitchen. He knew Scully had to be near the house
somewhere too. He needed to warn her to stay away! Whatever it was
that lived here wouldn't make a difference choosing its victims.


"Skinner -" he muttered as he sunk down against the wall, biting his
lip in frustration as his wrists ached. He grabbed his right hand that
hurt the most and stared at the torn skin.  Both hands bled. He used
his painful hands to move up and about, knowing how little time he had
left.


"Gotta warn Scully-" He moved to the window again and tried to force
it open. It wouldn't give in. He would have to break the glass. But
then what? The window was small and didn't lead to a fire escape. He
would have to jump. All he could do was let his body slide to the
ground floor and hope he wouldn't break a leg. On top of all the rest
that would probably be considered a minor injury, he thought bitterly.


Suddenly the room seemed to move again. Mulder froze as something
scratched the door. Shadows moved behind those doors. He looked around
for something to defend himself with. The next moment the same shadows
moved inside the room. They came from the floor. There were lots of
them, all representing the danger that lived in this house.


Mulder stared in shock at the shadows that became forms. They had
human faces. They had human hands. But when they touched him, all he
could feel was that horrible coldness. They were here to kill him and
there was nothing he could do.


At first he thought he was dreaming the whole thing when the shadows
moved about him, paralysing him. But he felt their cold hands when
they touched him and their dead faces were the greatest horror he had
ever seen. There were no emotions in their deadly faces. They formed
bodies that weren't bodies at all. He had never seen anything like it.


And when their cold hands stretched out their shadowy fingers towards
him, grabbing him to pull him down with them, he screamed.



6


Suddenly the door flew open. Scully looked up in surprise, never
expecting it to be happen anymore. She stepped forward into the dark
kitchen where her partner had been. She saw the traces of blood on the
floor. There was blood everywhere. At least it seemed that way.


He was gone now. A scream coming from upstairs shook her up. She
recognized Mulder's voice.


"Scully!" she heard shout. She turned and saw Skinner banging on the
backdoor with the small windows and the lock that wouldn't give in. He
had broken one of the windows. Quickly she unlocked it and let her
boss in.


"Mulder's upstairs," she said.


"I saw him. Where the hell is that sheriff? We need help!"


"We can't wait for Green," Scully replied as she rushed towards the
staircase that lead to the bedrooms. There was movement of light and
shadows behind the master bedroom. The door was locked. "Not again,"
Scully said, banging as hard as she could with her foot against the
door. Suddenly the movement of shadows stopped. It became very quiet
inside the bedroom as if no one was there.


"Mulder!" she shouted, knocking with her flat hand on the door. "Open
the door!"


"Look," Skinner said, pointing at the floor. A strange range of black
spots appeared at their feet.


"Don't step on them," Scully said, "I don't know what the hell that
is." She shivered as a sense of cold wind brushed passed her face. It
felt like someone had placed an ice-cold hand on her.


Skinner moved aside and tried to use his strength and weight to force
the door open. At last the door cracked and gave in.  The wooden door
burst open and banged against the wall. In shock both stared at
Mulder's form lying next to the bed. He was out cold.


Scully moved forward in fear, expecting the worst. Her fingers touched
her partner's throat and then his chest. "Is he-?" Skinner started,
not wanting to hear the answer.


"No, he's breathing," she said relieved. Her partner didn't move or
respond to her touch. He just lay there as if in a coma. There were
scratches all over his face, arms, wrists and ankles. His wrists were
bleeding from rope burns. He looked deadly pale yet she could feel a
high fever running up. The side of his head was one bloody mess. He
had taken a hard blow to the temple.


"We have to get him to a hospital," she said. "He's in very bad shape.
Call the paramedics."


Skinner got on his cell phone, cursing as he put it back in his
pocket. "No network. That blasted storm must have screwed up things."


"Try the regular phone."


Skinner tried to get a dial tone only to hang up in frustration.
"Nothing."


"Let's get him out of here ourselves then. We don't have much time."


"Can we risk moving him?"


"We have to," she said. "Can you help me, sir?"


Skinner was already kneeling down, lifting Mulder's form from the
ground. With Scully's help he was able to put one firm arm under
Mulder's limp body, supporting him as if his agent were weightless.
Scully took the other side, trying to carry as much weight as she
could. Skinner took most of it upon him.


As they turned, Scully saw Matt Kerns inside the room. The man looked
at them in disgust for a few seconds, then moved and shut the door,
locking them in from the outside. Even though Skinner had busted the
door, the lock still held.


"Kerns!" Scully shouted, letting go of her partner. Skinner stayed put
supporting the unconscious agent. Scully tried to force the lock open
again by pulling the handle but it stayed shut. They were locked in
tight.


Shadows moved from behind the door. The coldness returned. The room
became darker than it already was. All that lit it was Scully's
flashlight. Scully pointed it at the floor and watched as shadows came
up from the floor. And for one long second she thought she saw the
shape of a face. "We have to get out of here now," she repeated. "I
don't know what the hell that is but I'm not going to wait around for
it."


They moved backwards. Skinner gently placed Mulder on the bed,
supporting his head with a soft pillow. The agent didn't move an inch.
"Try to get him to wake up," the AD ordered as he walked to the
window. With all the force he had in him he forced the window up and
looked outside. The ground floor wasn't far away but they would never
make it with an unconscious Mulder.


Scully touched her partner's face, tapping him on the cheek. "Mulder,"
she whispered gently, "I need you to wake up. Can you do that? Mulder,
we have to get out of here! We need you."


Her partner moved slightly. His lips seemed to open and close as if he
was saying something. Instinctively he brought his hand to his head,
moaning as he opened his eyelids. In the darkness it wasn't difficult
to see that he was in very bad shape and needed time to concentrate.


"Mulder, it's me," his partner said relieved, grasping his hand. "Try
to relax. You're hurt."


"Where -?" Mulder started, automatically assuming he was in safety by
now. But he wasn't. In the darkness he recognized the dreaded bedroom.
When that realization struck him, he fought off Scully's grip. "No, we
have to - they're here. You don't know what it's like -"


"You'll be fine," Scully said softly, trying to calm him down. There
was a fear in his eyes she felt in her heart. They were in big trouble
and they all knew it. "Skinner's here too. We'll get you out. But we
need your help - your cooperation."


"No - don't understand. They're after me. You're in trouble too. It's
me they want. I can't risk -"


"Not without you," Skinner said as he returned from the open window
and made sure his agent looked at him. Mulder relaxed a bit when he
saw his bosses' confidence and sighed as he relaxed. "It's one big
screw up."


Skinner caught Scully's glance. She nodded and stroked her partner's
hair soothingly, whispering, "Just relax, Mulder. Try to stay awake.
Can you do that for me?"


Mulder nodded. She moved away from the bed towards the window where
her boss glanced at the man on the bed and seriously spoke, "We have
to go through the window. There's no other way. The door is locked. We
can't get it open. And even if we do, it's a hell down there."


"Mulder won't make it."


"I'll jump out and find a ladder or something to move him. There's a
gardener's shack back there. There's bound to be tools and equipment."


"No," Mulder whispered from the bed. "You go," pointing to Scully.


 "No, Mulder," his partner said. "You need me."


"You're lighter than Skinner. Less chance to break." Mulder leaned
back as he licked his lips. "Skinner stays here to protect me."


"He's right," Skinner said.


Scully frowned but didn't object. Skinner helped Mulder to sit up. The
agent closed his eyes and groaned. Every move seemed to hurt. Scully
turned towards her partner and forced him to look at her. "I won't
desert you, I swear. I'll get help."


He attempted to smile. "Of course you won't. You still have to tell me
... I'm not paranoid."


She smiled and stroked his face. Skinner left Mulder on the bed and
helped her to slide out of the window. The ground floor lurked
underneath her. All she had to do was slide out and try to land on her
feet without too much damage.


Skinner held on to her wrists, helping her to slip out of the window.
In the distance they could hear sirens. Help was coming. The sheriff
was nearly there. Suddenly the entire house seemed to shake again. In
the shock Skinner lost his balance and his grip on her wrists,
dropping Scully before she was prepared to break the fall.


The female agent crashed down on the concrete path underneath the
window. A sickening snap broke her left ankle. She cried out with pain
as she landed on her behind, immediately reaching for her ankle in an
attempt to sooth the pain.


"Scully!" Skinner yelled, trying to see how bad the damage was. "Are
you okay? Talk to us!" In the dark night he couldn't see her. She was
a shadow amongst shadows.


"My ankle," she groaned, biting her lip. Tears sprung in her eyes, as
she was unable to stand up on her feet.


Scully crawled on the ground, trying to find something that she could
use to support her bodyweight with. There was no way she could stand
up straight now. She couldn't find a ladder and help her friends.


She crawled up, supporting herself against the wall. "I'm fine," she
uttered, hard enough for Skinner to hear. "I think my ankle might be
broken but I'm okay. I can manage."


"Can you get help?"


"I don't think so." A sharp pain shot through her ankle, sending her
groaning against the wall. She could hardly stand up straight, let
alone find help. Furious with herself she realized that she was of no
use to them.


"Go to the sheriff. Tell them where we are and get the fire department
here to break down those damn doors!" Skinner yelled. Suddenly Scully
saw her boss turn and shout, "What the hell -" before the window
closed with a snap and both men were trapped inside.


"Skinner!" Scully shouted from the ground, trying to catch a glimpse.
"Skinner ... Mulder, answer me!"


No answer came from the bedroom on the first floor. The window stayed
shut. Scully cursed and limped as fast as she could to the front of
the house where several cars stopped. At the end she was almost
crawling.


Before the house several cars had stopped. Men in uniform got out and
rushed towards the porch. Scully moved from the side, getting Green's
attention as he hurried towards her.


"Agent Scully," Sheriff Green said as he approached her and grabbed a
hold on her before she could drop on the spot, "what's going on?"


"It's Mulder and Skinner," she said, "Mulder got trapped inside that
house and Skinner's in there with him. Mulder is in bad shape. You
need to break down those doors. They can't get out."


Sheriff Green didn't understand why two strong men couldn't get out.
Scully paled as she limped towards one of the cars, supported by the
sheriff. She was obviously in a lot of pain. The onset of shock was
visible.


"Mulder's hurt," she whispered again, sinking down on the backseat of
the sheriff's car. The sheriff turned towards one of his men and
ordered to call the paramedics and fire department. Outside the cell
phones worked.


Scully grabbed the sleeve of the sheriff's uniform and pulled him
closer. "There's something in that house," she mumbled. "Mulder was
right. They're trapped in there with Matt Kerns. I think he's the
one."


"Calm down, Agent Scully," the sheriff said friendly as he tried to
relax her. The agent's face paled even more. Green could see she was
in terrible pain and ready to pass out at any time. Her ankle was
swollen. A piece of the bone stuck out, protruding the skin. It looked
like a clean break. He knelt down, ordering one of his deputies to get
the first-aid kit out of the car. Improvising he tried to help the
agent all he could.


When he set her ankle temporarily, Scully groaned and closed her eyes.
A few seconds later, she passed out. One of the deputies stayed with
her and covered her with a blanket, making sure she was warm enough
until the paramedics got to the scene.


Green walked over to the front door and rang the doorbell. It seemed
like a normal thing to do. In the back of his mind he couldn't grasp
that someone would keep two FBI-agents trapped inside. A couple of
deputies walked around the back and noticed the crashed French windows
of the living room. The doors that gave access to the kitchen and
living area were locked once more.


Green walked into the living room shivering. It was freezing cold in
the room. It felt like the wind slit right through his clothes. He
turned, imagining someone watching him inside this dark room. But all
he saw was the reflection of his own flashlight in the mirror above
the dresser.


"Bust that door," Green ordered, thinking of the search warrant that
rested in his pocket. If what the FBI-agents claimed was true, he had
enough reason to break down the doors. And if what he had sensed when
he went over Matt Kerns' statements over and over again that night was
correct, he had enough reason to believe Kerns was indeed a murderer.


But how had he done it? Perhaps Green would never know. But at least
he would try to find out.



7


Skinner felt something tug the sleeve of his jacket. It took him time
and effort to realize that it was a human hand trying to wake him up.
He moved his head and looked up. His glass had fallen down and lay
beside him. They were broken.


"What --?" he asked, hoping that someone would finish his question. A
young girl with the face of an angel tried to get him to move. Her
eyes were filled with tears.


"They took your friend," she said. "Your friend's gone."


Skinner remembered what had happened with difficulty.  It had started
with that strange, cold wind that set sudden fear throughout his
system. For the first time in his life he was afraid. He hadn't felt
this way when he got shot in Vietnam, and later on in Washington.
Those attacks had happen too quickly.


Now he had seen it coming.


The soft wind had been the first sign. With fear in his eyes, the same
fear that Mulder felt, Skinner had stared at the shadows that returned
to take them away. This time they would not escape. They couldn't run
or hide. And the window had closed by itself, locking them in on both
sides.


"No," Mulder had whispered as the shadows tugged him by the arms. The
agent had moved away from the bed, gripping the windowsill. Both men
had tried to lift up the window but they couldn't manage. Then Skinner
felt something touch his skin and as his body was lifted in the air
and thrown against the dresser, he lost all sense of being. He had
remained down while his glasses fell off his face and cracked,
dropping beside his body.


"Help me up," Skinner mumbled as the girl tugged his sleeve once
again, trying to get him to come back to reality.


The girl moved without protest. She didn't budge when Skinner grabbed
her by the arms and said, "Where's Mulder?" She only pointed towards
the stairs behind the now open door.



8


Skinner hadn't seen how Mulder had suddenly relaxed, staring into the
face of death that came in the form of a black and destructive shadow.
His weightless body had moved up as the shadows surrounded him,
sending his mind into oblivion.


Skinner didn't know that Mulder had given up all resistance when his
mind was being told that no one would be there to help him. But the
voices inside his head told him there were no fear, no pain. There was
only oblivion.


His weightless body was brought down the stairs. He let himself slide.
Then a cold chill made him look up and he saw the door he didn't even
know was there. It opened and closed behind him. No one could see it
from the outside for it was hidden in the woodwork where it remained,
long forgotten.


Mulder came back to his senses as - in the darkness of the hidden
basement - fear struck him. In the corner of the basement a few wooden
boards were removed. The sand was dug out, leaving a hole big enough
to bury a man. Mulder started to struggle when he realized that this
would become his grave. He startled even more when he saw a freshly
dug grave beside it. Zo's grave.


"No," he said as the struggle for life began. He was pushed forward
towards the grave, struggling against the invisible forces that lived
in this house. He saw several faces now that all seemed to belong to
one of those shadows. They were the ones Matt Kerns had sold his soul
to.


Kerns stood in the doorway looking at him. He didn't speak a word. He
just stood there and watched as Mulder was forced to accept his fate.


Mulder felt his strength slip away. He knew he couldn't hold on much
longer. It would be over soon. His eyes closed as he was lifted from
the floor and turned. He was paralysed. Numb. Waiting for death. He
felt his mind slip away and believed it would be forever.


The shadows disappeared as the agent lay down in his grave. Kerns
stepped forward and picked up the shovel that stood against the wall.
He looked down at Mulder lying in the grave. The agent's eyes were
closed.


"Stop it right there," a sharp voice said, breaking the silence.
Jenny's father turned around and smiled as he raised his hands.
Skinner held a gun on him. The man swayed on his feet, but he still
kept a gun on Matt Kerns.


Behind him stood Jenny. She stared at her father.


"It's too late," Matt said, nodding at the agent in the grave. He
threw the shovel aside and laughed. "He's dead."


Skinner held his gun on Kerns, turning slightly to the girl. "Jenny,
open the doors and let the others in."


Jenny didn't move. She just stood there. "Jenny," Skinner repeated,
"listens to me. Do as I say."


The girl's eyes were focused on her father. She turned as if she
wanted to flee the room. Matt Kerns looked at her. The girl looked
back. There was no way she could escape her father's grip. Skinner
shook her, trying to get her to listen to him but she wouldn't. She
just stayed where she was.


Kerns moved forward, his hands in the air. "What are you going to do?
Are you going to shoot me? If so, just do it. Get it over with! But
when I die, you'll never be able to help him." Kerns nodded at Mulder
lying in the pit. "He won't live unless I say so."


Skinner hesitated. Kerns looked very confident. If he were correct,
how would he manage to get help and have a hold on Kerns at the same
time? Then the problem was resolved for him as footsteps walked down
the old, creaky steps and several men walked into the room.


With relief Skinner watched as Sheriff Green moved forward and put
cuffs on Kerns. The AD lowered his gun and barked, "Get paramedics in
here. I've got an agent down." The Assistant-Director ignored the pain
in his own head as he slid on his knees and reached inside the grave,
trying to get his agent's pulse. He was no doctor but he could tell
when someone was breathing or not. And Mulder still breathed, even
though that was nearly undetectable.


"Mulder, talk to me," he said as several deputies knelt down beside
him. With gathered force the men lifted Mulder out of the grave and
placed him on the sand beside it. He was non-responsive. Paramedics
hurried down the steps, cluttering the damp cellar. Everyone moved up
and about.


The sheriff brought Kerns outside. His daughter moved with them. She
was still not talking. Her eyes were still fixed on her father's.
Kerns started laughing like a madman. Green thought for a second he
had lost his mind. But the man sounded very sane when he spoke to his
daughter, ordering her to shut up.


"We're losing him," Skinner heard the paramedics say. The AD looked
about to find Scully but she was nowhere in sight. One of the deputies
told him she was in the ambulance waiting to bring her to the hospital
with a broken ankle. She had just regained consciousness but wasn't
able to walk inside the house with the others.


Skinner heard them mutter. Mulder was dying and no one knew why. His
vital signs were weak. His body was not responding to any stimuli. "We
have to transfer him now or he's going to die on the spot," the second
paramedic said.


"Sheriff, take a look at this," another deputy said as he got the
sheriff's attention. Skinner didn't pay notice. The AD watched as the
paramedics inserted a drip with fluids. The deep gash at his temple
was temporarily bandaged. Then the agent was strapped on a stretcher
and carefully lifted up the steps. Outside he was moved inside the
ambulance next to Scully.


Skinner felt a hand on his upper arm and looked aside when someone
placed a blanket over him. Outside, with all the flickering lights and
several cars, he shivered. He looked at the house and then at Mulder
as they worked on saving his life.


Kerns still stood there and watched the ambulance. Skinner knew he was
the only one who could save his agent. Somehow there was a connection
between all of it. It didn't make any sense yet this man held the key
to the agent's life.


He walked over to Matt and spoke softly as he said, "If you have one
ounce of humanity in you, you should help Mulder."


"No can do," Kerns grinned. "I've made my choice."


Skinner felt like hitting the man, breaking his nose and mutilating
his face for the rest of his life. Kerns just laughed when he spotted
the AD's urge to hurt him. Challenging he turned his face towards the
AD. "Just arrest me now," he mocked. "Just book me. I'll be out of
there in no time and I'll take my daughter and run. You'll never stop
me. You can burn down that house and release all the monsters and
freaks that live in there, and you'll never be safe again."


Kerns turned towards his daughter and smiled. "We're murderers, she
and I. But we have what we want."


The girl's eyes changed colour after her father spoke those words to
her. She blinked her eyes, escaping the trance she was brought in. The
entity that made her feel like this was gone. She was herself again,
for one long, delicious moment. And she made her choice not to go on
like this anymore.


Suddenly the girl made a run for it. "Hey!" a voice cried out behind
Skinner as the ten-year-old ran and ran until she crossed the street
and a moving car lifted her body and carried her to the skies. During
that long second between hitting the car and ending up on the concrete
road, Jenny Kerns felt happier than she had ever done in her life.


She would see her mother again and forget that she was responsible for
her death. She could forget about all the times those horrible
entities entered her body and made her someone else, changing her into
a being of the paranormal. She was a child again when she died. And
when she closed her eyes, she knew that she was the connection and
that that connection had now been broken.


The ones that rushed to her side came too late. But Jenny Kerns lay
peaceful on the concrete, her face lifted towards the heavens. Her
last thought before she died was that death would give her the peace
life had never done.


A few feet away Matt Kerns sunk through his knees and cried.


Suddenly the hands reviving Mulder stopped. "He's moving!" the
paramedic said, staring in surprise at the body on the stretcher.
Scully moved as fast as her broken ankle allowed her to and touched
Mulder's face.


Her partner stared surprised at her, wondering why she was crying.


Skinner watched from a foot away as Scully touched Mulder's face. Only
then did he hear that there were at least fifteen bodies buried
underneath the wooden boards. They had uncovered a mass grave.



9


"I don't understand," Mulder said. His voice sounded soft and seemed
broken. His throat felt thirsty all the time, as if someone had forced
sand in it. Scully sat down as comfortably as she could on the side of
the bed. She hated the crutches she carried with her all the time now
but knew she couldn't last a minute without them.


"The bodies that we found were buried there between a range of
approximately ten years. The oldest one was no doubt that of Ellie
Walsh. Her cloths and jewlery have positively identified her. It's
going to take some time to find out who the others were."


"Were they all women?"


"No. There were three men amongst them. From what we can tell they
were all pretty young. They probably didn't come from this area. The
FBI and sheriff's department are working together to match the
descriptions of the clothing with those of missing persons, last seen
in this area. But we can be sure that Matt Kerns took people that
wouldn't be easily missed."


"My god," Mulder whispered. "He's been sacrificing people all this
time to make his daughter into something that she never wanted to
become. How she must feel right now... I cannot imagine what it must
have been like for her!"


"Mulder, there's something I need to tell you," Scully said, lowering
her head. She hadn't told him yet. During the transfer to the hospital
he had been incoherent and confused. He hardly knew where he was or
what had happened to him. She could be grateful for that little bit of
sanctity his mind had granted him. Now she knew she had to tell him.


"I already know," Mulder said softly. "She's dead, isn't she?"


"Yes, she is."


He looked down and stared at his injured hands. The bandages around
his wrists showed evidence of the ordeal. His fingers and lower arms
had been scratched. When he made his way to the bathroom that morning
for the first time in two days, he had glared at his own mirror image.
He hardly recognized himself in it. Who was that pale man with the
eyes of a stranger? And why couldn't he remember all the details of
what had happened?


"How did you know?" Scully asked gently.


"I felt it. The moment she died, I lived. I nearly died, didn't I? In
that ambulance. I remember seeing your face. You were crying. You
never cry unless it's serious. So I must have nearly died. I just put
all the facts as I knew them together and came up with that
conclusion."


"I'm sorry, Mulder. I'm so sorry that I didn't believe you in the
first place."


Her partner smiled weakly. "I'm sorry that I didn't act sooner. I
should have seen it coming. I didn't realize Matt was behind it all.
He seemed very protective over his daughter. I didn't think anything
was wrong with that."


She placed her hand on his. "She gave her life for you, Mulder. I'm
sure of it. The moment she ran away, it was like she knew she had that
connection. She might have killed her mother, but she made a mends. In
the end she knew what was right and wrong and choose the right path."


"By killing herself?"


"By stopping that which her father had started. He created this hell
for her and she stopped it. She never wanted to be that prodigy,
Mulder. But her father wanted her to be perfect, just like he was."


"He wasn't brilliant, Scully."


Scully slid off the bed and sat down in the chair, supporting her
aching foot. "He's locked up for psychiatric evaluation. First tests
have shown his IQ is above 200. They've never seen a mind like his.
It's like he knows everything. I think he used that travelling
salesman-job as a cover, Mulder. He probably picked up possible
victims on his trips, somehow luring them to his house. They might
have come over for a visit and they became human sacrifice for him and
his daughter. In meantime he covered up that he too was a brilliant
man."


"Has he told them why? Or how?"


"He refuses to speak about that. But I've handed in my report and
requested for that house to be thoroughly examined. The fact alone
that the sheriff's department and our own FBI couldn't detect that
hidden door might show that there are more hidden cellars down there.
Who knows what we might find."


"And those entities?"


"We cannot prove that. The sheriff has refused to state that in his
report. He has reported that Matt Kerns tried to kill us, using
everything in his power to do so. That's it."


"I'm going to examine that house, Scully. I need to find out what
lives in there."


"You can't, Mulder. The case is closed."


"But the house will still be explored."


"Not by the FBI. For us we have solved the case of a serial killer we
didn't even know existed. We have no reason to go back to Grover."


"So the case is closed?" Mulder asked reluctantly. "Just like that?"


"Just like that," Scully confirmed, knowing her partner wouldn't agree
with it. She recognized that stubborn look all too well. But she
wasn't going to let him go back there. It had nearly cost all of their
lives before. She wasn't ready for a second challenge with whatever
lived in there. And she would make damned sure Mulder wasn't ready for
it either, even if she had to lock him up herself this time.


"You were right about one thing though," she said.


"What's that?"


"You were not being paranoid."


Mulder looked back at her in surprise, reading the admittance in her
eyes. His heart sank yet his spirits lifted as he touched her hand.
Having her tell him he was right was worth more to him than anything
in the world. For that, he was even ready to give up on a haunted
house.


"So, when will they let me out of here so I can push your wheelchair?"
he asked with a grin.


"I'm going to push yours first, Mulder."


"Fat chance."


Scully stuck out her tongue and grinned.



- The End -