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Title: It Knows You... Summary: While Mulder tries to solve a series of murders, Scully must face a phantom from her past. Hi there! I've finally managed to finish this thing, after a month and a half and a title change. It kinda got a little out of control, but, finally, here it is. This is only my second attempt at fanfic. If you like this, try "The Ice God" currently available on the Gossamer Archives. Now, on with the show. Roll opening credits, fade in... MIDNIGHT "How do you feel, dear?" "Tired, sleepy. I don't feel well." "That's because you've come a long way, dear. It's taken a great toll on you." "Why is it so dark? I can hardly see you." "Your eyes need time to adjust. You've been in the darkness a long time. But if you wish..." A match flared, igniting the wick of a long candle. The warm glow revealed the face of a middle-aged woman. She smiled as she looked down at the younger woman before her. "Is that better?" "Yes. Thank you." "Is there anything else?" "I'm dirty, and I smell bad." "Don't worry. We'll get you cleaned up shortly." "Then can I go home?" "Of course, dear. We have some mutual friends who miss you terribly. I'm sure they'll be very... surprised to see you again." Elizabeth Paddock's smile widened. Kneeling before her, Melissa Scully, her skin, hair and clothes caked with dirt, smiled back. 8:00 am Dana Scully awoke with a start, her skin crawling with gooseflesh. Shaking her head, she ran her hands through her hair as she tried to remember the dream. It was no good. The details, the reasons why it had disturbed her so much, were already fading. Something...something to do with Missy... But what? She sighed as she slid out of bed and wandered towards the bathroom. Under the circumstances, it wasn't surprising that any dream about her sister would be disturbing. Melissa had died in Dana's place, and Dana was still struggling to come to terms with the guilt and loss. Eventually, she supposed, the pain would pass. An hour later, Scully stepped out of the front door of her apartment building. Mulder was waiting for her in the car, the engine running. "Morning, Mulder," she said as she climbed into the car. "All set for a big day re-organising your filing system?" Mulder smiled slightly, "I told you yesterday that I'd figure out some way of getting out of it." He produced a newspaper and handed it to her. Scully looked at the small article and photograph that had been circled in red pen. "Romanian Scholar Killed In Home," she read. The photo showed a middle-aged man, with thinning hair and a pensive look in his eyes. Scully frowned, the man looked vaguely familiar. "Paul Bostov," said Mulder. "His landlady found his body yesterday, after she heard the sound of a violent argument coming from his apartment. There was no sign of a second person, just Bostov, with his eyes ripped out." "Lovely," said Scully, "But what makes this an X- File?" "The Romanian connection doesn't ring a bell?" Then it clicked. "The Holvey case," she said, "He was a member of the Calusari, the Romanian spiritual group that believed the boy was possessed." "That's right. And considering the circumstances of his death, I think it merits looking into." "So, we're off to Arlington?" "Yep." 2:00 pm Mulder skimmed through the crime-scene photos, orienting himself in the confines of the small apartment. He looked from the photograph of Bostov's body, sprawled in the middle of the room, to the white tape outline that now remained. He then turned his attention to the window at the front of the room, the glass shattered, the frame twisted and bent. Broken glass littered the floor. Mulder crouched and began sifting through the glass. "Mulder, look at this." Mulder turned. Scully was standing just inside the apartment's door, examining the frame. "What is it?" "It's a swastika. Looks like it's been drawn in blood." She moved to the other side of the door frame. "There's another one here." "Which is why the local police are thinking they've got a neo-nazi extremist group on their hands," said Mulder, returning his attention to the broken glass. "But they're wrong, aren't they?" "The Calusari use the swastika for it's original purpose, as a symbol of power and protection. I'd say that Bostov put those there himself, as a defense measure." Mulder carefully picked up a piece of broken glass. Red smears of what was apparently blood formed half a swastika. "But it obviously wasn't enough." Outside the apartment, Mulder and Scully walked around to the side. There, they looked up at the shattered remains of Bostov's window. "The only sign of forced entry that the police were able to find was the broken window. Three stories up." Mulder studied the ground below the window. "There were no indications that a ladder or anything similar was used." "So," said Scully, "I suppose you're suggesting that the killer flew up to the window." Mulder smiled mischievously. "Just keeping an open mind, Scully." Scully frowned. "Mulder..." "Sorry, Scully. Couldn't resist." "Not that, Mulder. Look." She nodded towards the back of the building. An elderly man dressed in a dark suit stood at the corner, watching them. "Unless I'm mistaken, he's..." "Another one of the Calusari." Mulder was already moving. The old man, his face expressionless, stepped out of sight. Mulder quickened his pace, Scully only just keeping up. "Sir! Could I talk to you for a second...!" They reached the corner of the building and paused. The rear yard was deserted, but a gate set in the back fence stood slightly ajar. From beyond came the sound of a car engine. Mulder broke into a run. As he burst into the alley, he caught sight of a grey sedan as it turned into the street at the far end. Squinting, he was able to read the license number just before the car disappeared from view. He pulled a pen and note-pad from his pocket, scribbling the number down as Scully joined him. "He moves fast for an old man," she said. "Did you get the whole number?" "Yeah." Mulder pulled his cellular phone from another pocket. "I'll have an address in a couple of minutes." As Mulder punched a number into his phone, Scully was startled by the trilling of her own phone. She took it from her coat pocket. "Hello?" "Dana?" Scully's blood turned to ice. It was a voice she recognised all too well. She found her own voice faltering as she answered. "That's right. Who is this?" "It's me, Dana. I need to see you, right away." "Is this some kind of sick joke? Who are you?" "Dana, please, I don't have time to play games. I'm at home. Please hurry." The line went dead. Scully stared at the phone in her hand for what seemed like an eternity, barely hearing Mulder when he spoke to her. "Got it. The car's registered to a Martin Tusler. He lives on the other side of town... Scully? Are you okay?" Scully pulled herself back to the here and now. "Sorry, Mulder. I'm fine." "You don't look fine. You look like you've just seen a ghost." She looked again at her phone. Was it possible...? "Mulder, I have to go home." Mulder's frown deepened. "There is something wrong, isn't there? You don't want to tell me about it?" "It's... family business." That sounded inadequate, even to her own ears, but right now she didn't think she could tell even Mulder the whole story. "I really do need to get back." He studied her face for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay. If you're sure you'll be okay, just drop me somewhere where I can rent another car." "I'm sorry about this, Mulder. I just..." "It's okay. Don't worry about it." 3:30 pm As he manoeuvred through the Arlington streets, occasionally referring to the street directory beside him, Mulder couldn't help but worry about Scully's odd behaviour. Something had obviously rattled her badly. Something about the phone call she had received while he was tracing Tusler's car. During the drive to a nearby car-rental place, he had extended a few more gentle probes about what was bothering her, but she had adamantly resisted all efforts to share her problem. He just hoped she would be all right... A few minutes later, he was pulling up outside a small white house, the number on the letterbox indicating that it was the address he had been given for Martin Tusler. There was no sign of the grey sedan in the driveway, but the door of the small garage was closed. No sign of movement at any of the windows. The house appeared to be deserted. Mulder continued to keep an eye on the windows as he walked up the front path. The unnerving feeling that he was being watched had started to settle on him. He knocked on the front door, then listened carefully. Hearing no sounds of movement he knocked again, waited a few more seconds, then headed for the garage. He fully expected the garage to be locked, and was surprised when the door swung up easily, revealing Tusler's grey sedan parked inside. "Can I help you?" Startled, Mulder turned towards the sound of the thickly accented voice. The man he had seen at Bostov's apartment stood just outside the now-open front door. Mulder pulled out his I.D. "Mister Tusler? I'm Agent Fox Mulder from the F.B.I..." "Yes. I remember you." Tusler looked around furtively. The man was obviously very scared. "Please, come inside. It is not safe out here." A strong smell of incense, and something else that Mulder couldn't quite identify, filled the living room of Tusler's house. The source wasn't hard to spot. In the middle of the room, sitting on a low table, a small pot bubbled over a camp stove. A large knife lay on one side of the pot, a dead chicken on the other. With the blinds drawn, the only light came from dozens of candles. "Mister Tusler, I assume you realise that I'm here to ask you about the death of Paul Bostov?" Tusler was pacing the room, continually wringing his hands. He nodded in response to Mulder's question. "Is there anything you can tell me?" "We are in grave danger. The dark powers have come to exact their revenge." "Against the Calusari?" Another nod. "We did not realise how powerful the entity we exorcised from the Holvey child was. It has been biding its time, regathering its strength, and now it has decided that the Calusari must pay for their interference." Mulder moved over to one of the windows, lifting the blind slightly and noting the swastikas painted on the glass. "So you're telling me that it was this entity that killed Bostov?" "That is so." "That's not going to look too good in my report." "This is no joke! These powers..." Tusler broke off in mid-sentence, looking around frantically. "They are coming!" He scrambled towards the table, pulling a box of matches from his pocket. Lighting match after match, throwing them into the pot, he began to chant in a low, guttural voice. Mulder moved towards him. "Mister Tusler..." He suddenly became aware of a sound, like the tinkling of thousands of small bells. He looked around, trying to trace the source of the sound. "What is that?" Tusler didn't answer. His chanting became more frantic as he rocked back and forth, tears streaming down his face. Mulder reached for him... The window behind him exploded inward in a shower of glass and wood. As Mulder was thrown forward, he had time to be aware of the edge of the table rushing towards him, then darkness. 8:15 pm Scully brought the car to a halt outside her sister's old house. Since Melissa's death, their mother still hadn't found the heart to put the place up for sale. It had stood deserted all that time. Now there was a light burning in the front window. She would have liked to have gotten here earlier, while it was still light, but a pile-up on the I-90 had made the trip torturously slow.Pulling her gun from her purse, she got out of the car and walked slowly up the front path. She paused at the front door, debated briefly with herself over whether or not she should knock, then berated herself for being stupid and tried the door. It wasn't locked, swinging open easily. Her heart was pounding as she stepped across the threshold. She could hear the shaking in her voice as she called out, "Is there anybody here?" She hadn't really expected a reply, and jumped when a soft female voice answered. "Dana? I'm in the living room. Come on through." Scully's legs felt weak as she walked towards the warm light spilling through the living room door. She jumped again as the cellular phone in her pocket began to ring. Ignoring it, she stepped through the door. Candles lit the room. Not unusual for Melissa's New-Age lifestyle, but they had the effect of casting sections of the room into shadow. In one pool of darkness, face hidden, sat a slender female figure. Scully's breath caught in her throat. "Missy?" The figure stood, and Melissa Scully's pale features were revealed in a candle's glow. Scully stumbled backwards. Her head felt light, and she knew she was struggling not to faint. Melissa looked puzzled. "Dana? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost?" "I... You..." Scully struggled to find words. She shook her head. "This isn't possible. You're *dead*," she hissed. "What are you talking about? What do you mean, I'm dead?" Melissa took a step towards Scully, who immediately brought her gun up. "Don't come any closer! I don't know who you are, but you are not my sister!" "Dana, please don't do this. I don't know where you got this crazy idea. I've just been away, that's all." The gun didn't move. "Away where?" demanded Scully. Now Melissa's face clouded over. "I... I don't really remember. I think there was an accident... That phone, Dana. I can't concentrate. Please turn it off." Scully realised that her phone had been ringing all this time. With her free hand she fished it out of her pocket. Her thumb hovered over the On/Off button. She glanced from the phone to the woman claiming to be her sister. "Turn it off." Instead, Scully activated the phone and held it to her ear. Melissa was immediately alarmed. "No, don't answer it...!" "Scully here." The voice that came through was weak and scratchy, but unmistakable. "Scully..." gasped Mulder. "Help me..." "Mulder? Where are you?" "Tusler's..." "Are you okay?" "Not... too good." "Keep still. I'll call in some back-up, and be there as soon as I can." "Hurry." Scully cut the connection, then started dialling another number, keeping one eye on Melissa. The other woman looked upset. "Dana, what are you doing? You're not going to leave me, are you? There's so much we need to talk about." Scully didn't answer, instead ordering back-up and an ambulance to Mulder's location. It was only after she was satisfied that she had done what she could for Mulder that she turned her full attention back to the woman in front of her. "Will you stay now?" asked Melissa. "I have to go," said Scully, reaching into the bag slung over her shoulder and producing a set of handcuffs. "But you're coming with me. Hold out your hands." Smiling sadly, Melissa shook her head. "I can't do that. I have to stay here." "Why?" Now Melissa looked puzzled again, as if trying to remember some elusive detail. "I... I don't... I just have to stay that's all." "Hold out your hands!" Scully began moving slowly towards Melissa. "Please don't do this, Dana." "I said...!" An horrendously loud cracking, snapping noise erupted above Scully's head. Her immediate reaction was to duck and cover her head, preparing for the onslaught of debris she was sure would follow as something smashed through the ceiling above her. She glanced up... and saw nothing. The ceiling was whole and unmarked. But the momentary distraction had served its purpose. There was no sign of Melissa. Scully was on her feet in an instant, bolting towards the dining room entrance at the far side of the room. "Missy!" The slamming of a door. Scully raced through the dining room and into the kitchen, shoving open the back door and taking the steps leading into the small yard in one leap. There was still no sign of Melissa. Standing as still as she could, trying to control her breathing and ignore the rapid beating of her heart, Scully listened intently. Nothing. Gun still in hand, she hurried to the small gate leading down the side of the house and headed for her car. 11:00 pm Tusler's house was in full crime-scene mode by the time Scully arrived. Police lights illuminated the street in intermittent flashes, as well as the lights of a single ambulance. Presenting her I.D., she ducked under the police-line tape and went immediately to the ambulance. Mulder was there, sitting up on a stretcher as a paramedic tended a nasty-looking gash on his forehead. His left hand was already wrapped in a bandage. Even so, he managed a smile when he saw Scully. "Glad you could make it to the party." His voice was little more than a croak, and on closer inspection, she could see just how pale his face was. "Are you okay Mulder?" "Fine. A bump on the head, and a bit of scalding when a pot of boiling animal blood fell on my hand, but other than that, I feel great." Scully looked at the paramedic, who shrugged, "I wouldn't mind holding him overnight for observation, just in case of concussion." "That's not a bad idea," said Scully. As Mulder opened his mouth to object, Scully held up her hand. "If you're concussed, Mulder, you could seriously impede the investigation. It's just overnight. I'll take care of things here." "I don't think that's a good idea, Scully." He started to rise, but didn't even make it all the way to his feet before he slumped back onto the stretcher, holding his good hand gingerly to his head. "Dizzy?" Mulder nodded. "My head hasn't felt this bad since I found that bottle of my grandfather's home-made hooch in the storage shed." "Then you rest. Doctor's orders. What about Tusler? Did you find him?" Mulder's face became grim. "Tusler's dead. They got him while I was here." "Did you get a look at who did it?" "No. They busted in through a window. I was knocked out by the force. When I came to, Tusler was dead, the same as Bostov." Scully surveyed the wreckage of Martin Tusler's living room, Mulder's final words to her still echoing in her mind. "Be careful, Scully." But despite the bustle of police forensics around her, Scully found herself unable to concentrate on the problem at hand, to analyze the crime scene as she had been trained. The potential of a possible threat from this case seemed insignificant compared to the other events of this night. Even as she was unzipping the body bag, she was simply going through the motions, her mind focussed primarily on her encounter with the woman who claimed to be her dead sister. She couldn't be Missy. It was impossible. Scully pulled the plastic apart, prepared for the sight of Tusler's mutilated face. She wasn't prepared for the sight of Melissa's pale features staring up at her. "Dana..." She lurched back, a startled cry escaping her. One of the forensic cops gave her an odd look, as he knelt beside the body. "Not a pretty sight, is it?" Steeling herself, Scully looked down at the corpse in the dark plastic bag. She saw the eyeless face of Martin Tusler, nothing more. "It... I wasn't really expecting it," she said, feeling like a fool. But she wasn't about to tell the officer what she thought she'd seen. Her imagination was obviously getting the better of her. And she had been worried about Mulder's possible concussion impairing the investigation... 7:30 AM Again, Scully awoke with a start. Again, the details of the dream that had interrupted her sleep were dissolving before she could get a grip on them. But, as before, she was sure that the dream had centred on Melissa. Hardly surprising. She had given up on the investigation last night, realising that staying at the crime scene would serve no purpose, and might even have hindered the investigations of the local police. She and Mulder would have to go over the crime scene reports later today. The ringing of her bedside phone made her jump. She stared at it, terrified that she knew whose voice she would hear if she picked it up. Don't be stupid, she told herself, snatching up the phone. Still, her voice was tentative as she spoke. "Hello?" "Dana?" Her heartbeat slowed as she recognised her mother's voice. "Hi mom." She settled back in her bed. "It's early. What are you calling about at this hour?" "Dana... Something's happened." Scully was now aware of how upset her mother sounded. "Could you meet me at the cemetery? At Melissa's grave?" Scully's blood ran cold. "What's happened?" "The police called. There's been some kind of vandalism at the cemetery. Missy's grave was involved." Margaret Scully sounded on the verge of tears. "I'll be there right away." 9:00 am Scully wasn't too surprised when Mulder pulled up outside the cemetery about a minute after she did. She had left a message on his answering machine, and had correctly assumed that he would discharge himself from the hospital at the earliest possible time. "Scully, what's going on?" As he walked towards her, she saw that his hand was still wrapped in gauze, and a small bandage was taped to his forehead. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I should have told you about this straight away. It's just..." She found herself groping for the correct words. What had been happening just wasn't easily explainable. "How about you start at the beginning? It was that phone call you got at Bostov's, wasn't it?" Scully nodded. As they walked through the cemetery gates, she recapped the events of the past day. Mulder listened quietly, not interrupting her, for which she was grateful. One the flow of words started, she spilled the whole thing in a rush. When she had finished, she was feeling quite drained. "Are you sure the person you saw was Melissa?" Mulder asked. "It looked like her, it sounded like her. I just don't..." She stopped in mid-sentence as they rounded a bend in the gravel path. Ahead, a police cruiser was parked on the path. Two men in suits, who she immediately took to be police detectives, were standing with Margaret Scully by the spot where Scully knew Melissa's grave was located. Even from this distance, she could see the mound of fresh, disturbed earth. She quickened her pace. Her mother, seeing her approach, hurried towards her, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Dana..." As they embraced, Mulder stepped ahead of them, moving to join the two detectives. Scully stepped back and looked at her mother. "Are you okay, Mom?" "No... Dana, who would do such a thing? They've... Melissa never hurt anyone..." Dreading what she was about to see, Scully walked with her mother up to the gravesite. The grave was empty. Fresh soil was dumped to either side of the gaping hole, revealing the splintered lid of the coffin below. There was no sign of Melissa's body in the casket. Scully's legs felt weak, and she found herself needing support from her mother as much as the other woman was supporting her. Was it possible...? Mulder was quietly conferring with the detectives. After a few moments the three men approached her. "Scully, this is detectives Burke and Wills. They just want to ask a couple of questions." "Of course." As the detectives started with the routine questions about whether she knew anyone who harboured enough of a grudge to do something like this, Mulder walked slowly around the perimeter of the grave. He stopped a couple of times, crouching down to examine some detail or another, then stood and resumed walking. By the time he had completed his circuit, the detectives had finished their questions. Scully had avoided any mention of her encounter with Melissa the night before, feeling that it would serve no purpose for the police to consider her a raving lunatic. This was something that she and Mulder would have to solve themselves. 11:00 am Scully stepped into the kitchen of her mother's home. Mulder was standing at the counter, pouring a second cup of coffee. He handed it to her. "How is she," he asked. "Sleeping," said Scully, taking a sip of her coffee. "I gave her a couple of sleeping pills, so she should be out for a while." "What about you?" She smiled thinly. "Good question. I feel like I've really been dragged through the wringer over the last twenty-four hours. But I doubt I'll get a decent night's sleep until we resolve this." Scully leaned against the counter. "So, the next question is; Now what?" "For the moment, I want to keep track on the Calusari murders. There's not a lot else we can do until Melissa... the woman calling herself Melissa, contacts you again. Besides..." Mulder hesitated. "Besides what?" prompted Scully. "I... have a feeling that these events may be connected in some way." Scully raised her eyebrows. "Connected? How?" "I don't know. That's what we have to find out." 1:00 pm Mulder stood on the front steps of Tusler's house, looking out at the street beyond. Whoever had smashed through the window to get at Tusler would have had to come across the front lawn. No-one in the neighbourhood had seen anything out of the ordinary. Now, a line of police tape stretched across the front of the yard, and their examination of the crime scene had yielded no new information. The one thing they desperately needed was the names of the other Calusari. Mulder knew there was at least one, possibly two others. But Tusler had kept no notes of any kind regarding his involvement with the group. There had been nothing resembling an address book amongst his belongings. It was a dead end. Scully stepped through the front door and stood beside him. "Ready to go?" he asked. She nodded in reply. They were both feeling the frustration of the lack of progress in the case. As they walked back to their car Mulder worked through what they knew, trying to find somewhere that they could pick up the thread again. He was about to climb into the car, ready to admit defeat, when something caught his eye. They were being watched. A lone figure stood on the footpath several houses away, under the shade of a large elm tree. His black suit contrasted sharply with the white hair and beard. Even from this distance, Mulder could see the piercing eyes gazing at him from above the beard. Eyes he immediately recognised. "That's him." Scully followed his line of sight. "You're kidding." "No. That's him. He's the leader of the Calusari." As he spoke, the old man began to walk slowly towards them. Mulder slammed the car door and went to meet him half way. Scully followed. Shoulders straight, the Calusari leader stood before them. "I warned you, Mister Mulder," he said before Mulder had a chance to say anything. "It knows you, I said. Now it is back, and we are all in grave danger." 2:00 pm The home of Joachim Guntav was like a fortress. The windows were heavily barred, the doors thick, solid and, Mulder suspected, steel cored. The inevitable swastikas adorned every possible entrance, and were actually incorporated into the stained glass patterns of the windows. Unlike the make-shift altar in Tusler's house, here one central room had been entirely devoted to ceremonial purposes. Carvings and pictographs adorned the walls, and a large pot bubbled on an ornate table in the centre of the room. The old man, Guntav, stood in front of the pot, eyes closed, brow creased in concentration. Mulder hated to interrupt him, but... "Mister Guntav, we really need some information about what's been going on here," asked Scully, beating Mulder to the punch. Guntav answered without opening his eyes. "Ask your friend. He knows." At Scully's enquiring look, Mulder shrugged. "According to what Tusler told me before he was killed, the entity that possessed the Holvey boy is back, and it's pissed. It wants revenge on the Calusari for evicting it." "So it's killing them one by one." Scully sounded unimpressed. Hardly surprising, since she didn't really believe that Charlie Holvey had been possessed in the first place. But Mulder had been present at the exorcism ceremony. He had seen, and he believed. Which was making him very nervous. Guntav opened his eyes, his piercing gaze settling on Scully. "It knows your friend, it knows what is important to him. And through him, it also knows you." He picked up a large silver dagger. Mulder saw Scully's hand twitch towards her sidearm before she was able to control the impulse. Using a small bowl, the old man scooped up some of the thick red liquid from the pot. He then walked to the room's only window and dipped the point of the dagger in the potion. Using drops falling from the dagger's blade, he slowly walked back towards the altar, creating a line on the wooden floor. "We must attempt to contain the entity, weaken it so that it will dissipate once more. To do that requires the strength of three. With my companions dead, I need your help." Scully opened her mouth to speak, but Mulder raised his hand to keep her quiet. "What do we have to do?" he asked. "Nothing," said Guntav, "and everything. The strength of three bright souls will contain the evil long enough for me to complete the ceremony." Having completed the first line, he returned to the window and began drawing a second line from the opposite side. "I'm afraid my partner doesn't really believe in what you say is happening." "When the time comes, she will believe." With the completion of the second line, Guntav walked back to the window, a swastika set in stained glass in the middle of the pane. "We must allow the spirit entry, but it must be at a point of our choosing, so that we can channel where we wish." He raised the dagger and, using the hilt, rapped firmly on the glass over the swastika. The glass cracked, fracturing the symbol. "Now," said Guntav, "We wait." 7:30 pm Scully stood up from sitting in one of the overstuffed armchairs positioned along one side of the room. She stretched, trying to work the crick out of her neck. Moving quietly, so as not to disturb Guntav who hadn't moved from his position at the altar, she walked over to where Mulder sat in another chair. "Mulder, this is insane," she said, keeping her voice low. "Not really, Scully. Think about it. Even if a supernatural entity wasn't responsible for the killings, we can still assume that Guntav will be the next target. Therefore all we have to do is wait, and the killer should show." The phone is Scully's pocket trilled, and they both jumped. Quickly, she whipped it out and activated it. "Scully here." There was a moment of silence, then a click as the line was disconnected. "They hung up," she told Mulder. "If we're lucky, it was just an innocent wrong number," he said, rising to his feet. "And if we're not lucky...?" "It's beginning!" said Guntav, a quaver in his voice. He picked up a box of matches and began a low guttural chant as he lit the matches one by one, throwing them into the pot. "How does he know?" asked Scully. "I don't feel anything." Then, from somewhere outside, a voice cried out, "Dana!" The blood drained from Scully's face. Mulder watched her, concerned. "Is that...?" She nodded. The voice came again, rising in urgency and desperation. "Dana! Help me, please!" Scully started towards the door. Mulder grabbed her by the arm, as Guntav paused in his chanting long enough to snap, "You must not leave this room!" "Scully, it's a trick. It must be. They're just trying to divide us." He looked her in the eye. "Melissa is dead." Someone began pounding at the front door. At the same time, the entire house seemed to start vibrating. "Dana! Please, let me in! They're after me! Help me! Please!" Drawing her pistol, Scully pulled away from Mulder's grip and started towards the door. Mulder moved to grab her again. "Scully...!" She twisted away from him again, then looked at him with pleading eyes. "You don't understand, Mulder. I never saw her body. I have to know." As she ran from the room, the vibration became a shaking, as if the house were in the grip of an earthquake. Mulder moved to pursue Scully, but was halted by Guntav's cry. "If you leave this room we will all die!" "I can't let her go out there alone!" Mulder shouted above the growing rumble. "All she must face is the truth!" bellowed Guntav. "We must still face the evil! Stay! Come and stand beside me!" Mulder hesitated. He was about to ignore the old man's plea when the memory of Charlie Holvey's exorcism welled up, unbidden. The forces they were facing were real, and he realised that obeying Guntav was the best chance for all of them to survive. He moved to the old man's side. Scully moved toward the front door, her gun at the ready. The pounding on the wood continued. "Dana!!" It was more a scream now than a cry. The familiar voice tore at her heart. She reached out to unlock the door. She had to know. As soon as the door was unlatched, it was thrown open with startling force. A strong blast of wind blew past her, then Melissa's familiar form stumbled through the door and into her arms. After slamming the door shut and locking it again, Scully dragged Melissa towards the altar room. They were only a few feet from the door when a huge oak bookcase standing in the hallway suddenly toppled across the entrance, blocking their way. Now, it was Melissa doing the dragging, clutching Scully's hand and dragging her towards the staircase. "This way!" Mulder heard a large crash outside the door. He started to turn towards it, but his attention was dragged back to the window as the glass exploded inwards. He threw up an arm to protect his face, but the expected shower of jagged shards never came. Cautiously lowering his arm, he was astounded to see the fragments of glass spinning just inside the window, as though in the grip of a miniature tornado. "Take my hand," hissed Guntav. Mulder did so, as the Calusari's chanting became louder and more urgent. The only light in the upstairs bedroom came filtering through the window from the streetlights outside. Scully pulled away from the woman holding her hand as soon as they were through the door, bringing her gun up. "Stop where you are," she ordered. The other woman obeyed. "Now, turn around so I can see you." "You're not going to start all this again, are you Dana? For god's sake..." "Just do it!" The woman turned. In this dim light she looked so much like Melissa. Scully reached for the light switch by the door. Flicking it on, she wasn't overly surprised when nothing happened. The power was out. "As far as I'm concerned, my sister is dead," said Scully. "Give me one good reason to believe otherwise." "Alright," said Melissa. Then she began to speak. The glass tornado was spinning faster and faster in front of them. Mulder risked a glance at Guntav. His face was streaming with sweat, and he held Mulder's hand in a vice-like grip. Suddenly, his mouth snapped open and he gasped in shock, drawing in a huge, shuddering breath. "It's too strong!" he cried. Even as Guntav spoke, the glass storm expanded rapidly. Mulder threw up his arm again, and this time he reeled back as dozens of shallow cuts scored his exposed flesh. He lost his grip on Guntav's hand, stumbling back, falling as he encountered one of the armchairs. The glass receded, back towards the window, through which an intensely bright light was now streaming. A human shape began to take form in the midst of the maelstrom. All at once, the shards of glass stopped spinning, and dropped to the floor. A tall, middle-aged woman stepped forward, and Mulder was shocked to realise that he recognised her. "Mrs Paddock!?" The smile would have been warm, but there was something about her eyes, something almost reptilian. "Hello, Agent Mulder. It's nice to see you again." Mulder fumbled under his jacket, searching for his gun. Then he saw it lying on the floor, a few feet away. He was just reaching for it when Paddock made a tutting noise, sounding just like the school-teacher she had been when Mulder and Scully had last encountered her. "We can't have that, I'm afraid." Mulder's gun slid across the floor, stopping at Paddock's feet. She picked it up and, with a flick of her wrist, tossed it out the window. Still smiling, she turned away from Mulder, to where Guntav lay slumped against the wall, staring at her in horror. "Elizabeth," he whispered. "Hello, Joachim," she said, taking a step towards him. "I told you we'd meet again." At a gesture from her hand, Guntav suddenly slid up the wall, clutching his throat. His head stopped a few inches from the ceiling. Mulder tried to struggle to his feet, but a single glance from Paddock slammed him back down against the floor. "Stay out of this, Agent Mulder. This is old business that doesn't concern you." She turned her attention back to Guntav. "You were warned, Joachim. You knew what would happen if you continued to meddle in our affairs. Now it's time to pay the price." His voice a choked whisper, Guntav managed to spit out three words, loaded with pure hatred. "Go.. to... hell!" Paddock's smile widened. "I'm already there, darling. Remember?" There was a horrible crackling noise, and Mulder watched as Guntav's neck was twisted at an obscene angle. He died without uttering another word. Another gesture from Paddock, and the broken body fell to the floor. Mulder tried again to get to his feet. "Please, Agent Mulder, I don't want to have to hurt you any more than I already have." "Why are you doing this?" Mulder asked, easing himself into one of the chairs, having decide that resistance would be futile, and, quite probably, painful and potentially fatal. "What's your involvement with the Calusari?" "I work for a... powerful agency, Agent Mulder, as I'm sure you've already guessed. It's my job to clean up here and there on occassion, like in New Hampshire." "And the Calusari pissed off your employers, so they had to die," Mulder finished for her. Paddock was walking back towards the window. "That's right. I knew you'd understand." "What about Scully and me? Aren't you going to kill us as well?" "Unfortunately I'm not allowed to do that, for... political reasons, I guess you'd say. But we knew that the deaths of the Calusari, especially so close to home, would draw your attention, and you and your partner together could have complicated matters. So we came up with a little distraction that we were confident would keep you apart at the appropriate time." "A distraction? Melissa..." "I'm sure Agent Scully has found the experience most cathartic." The light outside the window was building in brightness. "Goodbye, Agent Mulder. It's been nice working with you again. Until next time..." The light flared, then died, and Mulder was left alone in the darkness. Tears were streaming down Scully's face as Melissa related story after story of their childhood together, reminding her of things that only the two of them could possibly know. She used all the right words, invoked all the right memories, leaving no doubt in Scully's mind. "Missy... I've missed you so much. Why did you go away?" Melissa smiled sadly. "You know, Dana. In your heart, you know. But by tomorrow, the rational part of your mind, the part that used to infuriate me so much, will start to work on ways to explain all this away." Surprising herself, Scully realised that she knew what her sister meant. "I'm sorry," she said. "It was supposed to be me, not you. You weren't supposed to die." "I know. But I don't blame you, Dana. Your guilt is misplaced. What happened wasn't your fault." "I... I know. But..." Scully suddenly realised that she could barely see Melissa. The darkness seemed to be engulfing her. "What's happening?" "I have to go now, Dana." "No!" "You have to go on, Dana. The truth is out there, and that truth is linked to you in ways that you can't possibly imagine. God, your future is so bright..." The last few words faded to a whisper, as Melissa's image faded entirely from view. Scully lunged towards where her sister had been. "Missy!" But there was nothing there, and Scully was left alone in the darkness. TH'END So, there you have it. Please let me know what you think. ------------------------------------------------------- One Crowded Hour Of Glorious Life -------------------------------------------------------
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