Title: La Strega 
Author: Romantique
Classification: T Adventure
Rating: G
Distribution: Archive anywhere but email me at 
dolph1n@internetcds.com
Summary: A little X Tale for Halloween. Pre Season 7.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Sometime in the autumn of 1999

Amber light penetrated through crevices that resembled 
dotted pinholes in the worn, wooden walls. With each 
passing moment, the color of the light intensified 
from amber to golden to bright white, suggesting that 
the sun was rising over the horizon. Speckles of dust 
particles danced as if suspended in the light beams. 

Shielding his eyes from one of those beams, Fox 
Mulder awakened, struggling to sit up from where he 
had been sleeping, on a hard, cold dirt floor. The 
dank, unmistakable odor of mold and mildew hung 
heavy in the cold air. Breathing the thickened 
malodorous air was difficult. Mulder involuntarily 
let out several sharp coughs to clear his lungs and 
shook his head. Massive cobwebs dangled from each 
corner of the room; their size only be matched by the 
cobwebs in his head.

Where was he and how did he get here?

The last thing he remembered was having dinner with 
Scully. He looked down at his clothes and was 
surprised to find he was not wearing the suit and 
tie he wore to the posh Italian restaurant. Now, he 
found himself dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and his 
favorite leather jacket. He clutched the front of 
his jacket together for warmth.

Surveying his surroundings, he found that he was lying 
on the floor of a room that was void of any 
furnishings. From his vantage point, it looked like a 
one room shack. And from his vantage point, it 
appeared that he was very much alone.

Confusion spread across his face. Looking at his 
watch for answers to his questions, he found only the 
tan line left from the leather strap. Slowly, he 
began to move his stiff body into a standing 
position, and he became aware that his left ankle was 
throbbing. It hurt miserably when he applied any 
weight to it. Relying on his good leg, he hobbled 
over to the frame of the door and grabbed hold for 
support with one hand. With his other hand, he 
frantically searched his pockets for his cell phone.

"Where's Scully?" he mumbled to himself.

Fumbling, at last he found the phone in his jacket 
pocket. He turned on the phone and hit the code for 
his partner. The phone rang and rang and rang. 

"Scully," she routinely answered.

"Scully," he responded, letting out a long sigh of 
relief.

"Mulder, where are you!" she sounded quite agitated. 
"Skinner has been looking for you all morning. You 
haven't returned any of my calls. I don't think I 
can hold him off much longer."

"I . . . I don't know where I am," he replied almost 
robotically.

"C'mon, Mulder," she was clearly losing patience. 
"What do you mean you don't know where you are?"

"I'm serious. I don't know where I am," he tried to 
convey his sincerity. "I woke up on the floor of 
what looks like a shack," he says as he opens the 
door and looks all around. There is a small gravel 
path leading off into the distance and countryside. 
The trees have turned spectacular shades of red and 
gold.

"I'm in a shack in the middle of nowhere," he 
explained. "And I don't remember how I got here."

"A shack?" she sounded surprised. "You flew to 
Winston-Salem for some pre-Halloween ghost-busting," 
she recanted. "I went with you to the gate and 
watched you get on the plane. And you were supposed 
to be back at work, yesterday."

"I don't remember any of that," he answered. "The 
last thing I remember was having dinner with you at 
La Strega's."

"That was Friday night," the concern in her voice was 
growing. "Today is Wednesday, October 31st."

Tired of standing on one foot, he grabbed the door 
facing and slowly lowered himself down to the ground. 
But as he approached the last two feet, he landed hard 
with a thud.

"Oooowww," he cried as the impact jars his ankle.

"Mulder. Are you alright?" she immediately responded 
to his cry.

"Yeah," he gritted his teeth to keep from crying out in 
pain. "It's my ankle."

"What's wrong with your ankle," she asked.

"Don't know," he responded. "Just like I don't know 
how I got where I am.

"Are you bleeding anywhere?" she continued with her 
mental checklist.

"No," he answered.

"How's your head?" she asked, continuing in physician 
mode. "Do you think you hit your head?"

"I don't think so. My head's okay," he responded. 
"Although I must admit, this is very confusing."

"Do you see anything around?" she suggested. "There 
must be some clues."

"I'm way ahead of you, Scully," he responded in a tone 
that echoed his feelings of futility. From his low 
point of view, he looked out the door, responding, 
"There is nothing around here but this shack, me, and 
mother nature as far as the eye can see."

"Okay. I'm going to check on a few things," she said 
reassuringly. "And I'll call you back in just a few 
minutes."

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere," he quipped and 
disconnected the call.


Somewhere near Salem, Massachusetts
October 31, 1999
1 hour later

Still sitting propped up against the open door, 
Mulder answered his ringing cell phone.

"Hi Mulder," Scully began. "We checked your credit 
card purchases from over the weekend. The records 
indicate that you rented a car at the airport in 
Winston-Salem. And you checked into The Cauldron 
Motel in Salem at noon on Saturday, but have yet to 
check out. Does any of this sound familiar?"

"No, I'm afraid not," he responded, sounding a little 
down. "What kind of a rental car?" he asked.

"A 2001, white Dodge Intrepid. Massachusetts Plate 
No. 619 AGO," she read from her notes.

"Sorry, I don't remember a rental car," he 
apologized.

"It's okay," her response was compassionate. "I'm at 
the airport and will be in Winston-Salem tonight. 
We've given the local police your description and 
information and the Boston Bureau will coordinate a 
search," she tried to convey that they were doing 
everything possible. "You just hang in there, okay? 
I'll be there soon."

"Like I said before, I'm not going anywhere," he 
joked, but neither he nor his partner were laughing.

Upon disconnecting the call, Mulder looked up to find 
an old woman walking from the path towards the shack.

"Mister, this is private property!" she growled as she 
approached him. "You are going to have to leave, or 
I'll call the Police."

"M'am," he responded from his seated position on the 
ground. "I wish you would call the Police. I need 
help," he paused. "It's my leg. I can't walk."

"Who are you, and what are you doing on my land?" she 
continued to snarl through her furrowed brow.

"My name is Fox Mulder. I'm a Federal Agent," he 
answered, automatically going to his pocket for his 
badge. But it was not there.

"I'm sorry," he looked up at her mean, old face. "My 
ID is missing. So is my watch."

"You expect me to believe that?" she snarled. "Why 
should I believe you? I don't know you. You're not 
from around here."

"Because I have nothing to hide," he answered meekly. 
"And no, I'm just visiting. By the way, where is 
here?"

"You're on my family's farm. Just outside of Salem," 
she answered. "You're not one of those people who are 
here looking for Halloween fancy, are you?" she 
snarled. Many of her teeth were missing. This woman 
was not attractive.

"Well, I am here looking at the area's colorful 
sites," he replied. "And I must admit that you are 
one of the more colorful things I've seen."

"Are you here looking for witches?" she asked, peering 
through eyes that appear to be clouded with 
cataracts.

"Why, do you know where I can find one," he quipped.

"You're lookin' at one," she snarled.

As he looked closer at her haggard face, he noticed 
that she has warts on the end of her nose.

"Ma'm, I wouldn't exactly call you a witch," he 
carefully replied, trying to be politically correct.

"Well, if you don't believe in me, then I don't 
believe in you," and she turned on her heel and headed 
back down the path.

"Hey, wait a minute!" he yelled. "You can't just 
leave me here."

He gathered his strength and stood up on his good 
leg. Attempting to go after the old woman, he took 
one step and almost fell to his knees in agony.

"Ahhhhhh," he yelled and sat back down.

"Damn," he muttered to himself. "I'm not going 
anywhere."


Somewhere near Salem, Massachusetts
October 31, 1999
Dusk

Mulder woke up inside the shack. He must have dozed 
off for a time. It was dark and the temperature was 
dropping. Suddenly, he became aware of the sound of 
footsteps, and a light appeared from behind the door.

"Scully," he cried out as the door opens.

"What?" it was the old woman, carrying an oil lantern. 
"What's a Scully? I'm Hilde," she snarled at him. "I 
came back to see if you were still here."

"Where else would I be," he answered. "I can't walk." 
He sat up, grabbing onto his ankle in pain, as he 
rose. "Did you call the Police? I need help."

"There aren't any phones around here," she answered 
sharply.

"Hilde, I have a phone," he slowly reached into his 
pocket for his cell. "Just tell the dispatch 
operator where we are," he pleaded with his eyes.

"I already told you, Mister," she pointed an old 
crooked digit at his face. "If you don't believe in 
me, why should I believe in you? You are just a 
figment of my imagination," she growled through her 
crooked teeth.

"Believe what, that you're a witch?" he asked. "I 
believe that anything is possible," he responded.

"But you don't really believe," she countered. "Well, 
let me see if I can convince you on this Halloween 
night!"

"You eat at restaurants called La Strega," she 
growled. "La Strega means The Witch in Italian. 
You stay in motels called The Cauldron. And you go 
ghost busting. You mock us!"

Mulder looked at her in amazement. How did she know 
where he and Scully had eaten dinner so many days ago 
and details of their conversations?

She walked toward the center of the room and set the 
lantern down on the ground.

"How do you think you got here?" she asked with a 
gleam in her eye. "I'll tell you how you got here. 
I brought you here!"

"I must admit, Hilde. I don't remember how I got 
here," he responded.

"That's because I put a spell on you so you wouldn't 
remember," she laughed.

"Then, tell me," he continued. "What happened to my 
leg?"

"You tripped over a log out in the woods trying to 
run away," she was still laughing.

"I don't remember any of that," he said, shaking his 
head.

"I put a spell on you. And now you have to live here 
with me for all eternity!" she let out the most 
diabolical laugh he ever heard.

Mulder tried very hard to not let the displeasure of 
that thought appear on his face. No point in making 
a bad situation even worse.

"Ahhh. But Hilde, spells can be broken, right?" he 
asked. As a witch, you must tell me that can break 
the spell!"

"The only thing that can break this spell is the kiss 
of a fair maiden princess," she said quietly. "But 
there's no chance of that happening around here, is 
there?" she gave an evil laugh.

And with that, she picked up the lantern and walked out 
of the shack. Determined not to let her get away 
again, Mulder crawled on the floor in an attempt to 
follow her. He made it to the door, but she had 
vanished. She was nowhere to be seen.

In the distance, he could hear the baying of wolves. 
The moon was beginning to light the night sky. Sitting 
at the door of the shack, he fixated on some lights 
far in the distance. They appeared to be coming toward 
him, closer and closer. He continued to watch the 
lights and felt a thrill as he became convinced this 
was not a dream. Indeed, the lights were coming closer.

Finally, he heard a familiar voice.

"Mulder!" Scully shouted.

"Scullyeeeeee! Over here," he yelled back.

He saw her running towards him, flanked by 
uniformed police officers.

"Mulder," she cried as she approached him, and once 
she reached him, they embraced one another.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she looked deeply into his 
eyes.

"I am now," he said as his face showed his relief.

"Scully, can I ask you to do something for me?" he 
asked sheepishly. "Will you kiss me?"

"What?" she asked, caught a little off guard.

"Please. Don't ask any questions," he tried to 
explain without explaining. "Just kiss me."

"Well, okay," she said.  And meekly, she bent down 
and kissed him on the lips.

A smile formed across his face. And while the 
officers placed him on a stretcher, in a manic fashion, 
he began to tell her the story of a spell and the 
kiss of a fair maiden, La Strega and Hilde, and a 
Halloween night. Scully and the officers looked at 
one another, rolling their eyes in great disbelief. 
Mulder caught one of those looks.

"All right, Scully," he retorted. "But if you don't 
believe in me, then I don't believe in you," he 
grinned. And they all left the shack, setting out 
into the dark Halloween night.

~fin~