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Title: Trick or Treat Summary: X-OK Halloween Challenge. Feedback is always welcome. Flames handled with asbestos gloves and used to keep my feet warm on cold nights. Beta: none. All errors are my own although I will probably revise this when someone points out all the errors in punctuation etc. Wednesday, October 29 1997 "Sure, no problem, Chuck. I can be there by then. Okay. Hey, Scully just got back," Mulder waved to his partner as she entered the office, who paused and eyed him suspiciously as she set the paper sack down on her table. "Look, I gotta go. I'll pick you up in the morning by 8." Mulder hung up the phone and rearranged some papers on his desk, his body language screaming "guilty," before he finally was able to look his partner in the eye. Scully, for her part, had not moved a muscle nor batted an eyelid as he'd finished his conversation, suspecting that something was afoot. "Hiya, Scully. I didn't think you'd be back this soon." "Evidently," she answered in a cool tone. "It was a wasted trip. The meeting was cancelled last minute. So *why* are you picking Chuck up at 8am?" "Uh, because it's a four and half hour drive and we'd like to get to Danville as early as possible." It was more of a question than an answer, and Mulder once more dropped his eyes to scan the items on his desk rather than meet Scully's icy blue gaze head on. "Danville? Is this a case that you *forgot* to tell me about? Dammit Mulder, you're still recovering from being mauled by that... that... mothman, and you're not supposed to be going out on fieldwork for at least another week." Mulder was starting to feel a little defensive, he didn't have to justify his every move to his partner. "It's not a case, Scully. I'm taking a couple of personal days to help Chuck out with some research." "I see. And you were going to tell me, when?" "I just did! Look, I'm stuck behind a desk, I have been for over a week. I'm bored, Scully. It's not going to hurt my shoulder helping Chuck out. I thought you'd be pleased that I'll be out of your way for a few days. I know Skinner is." "So, it's all arranged? There's a reason you haven't mentioned this before, Mulder. I *know* this hasn't all just happened in the hour and a half that I've been out of the office. Just what is this research?" Scully was sure it was something she wouldn't approve of, which would explain why Mulder hadn't mentioned it and was sneaking around behind her back. "Electronic Voice Phenomenon. Chuck was sent a tape form someone on staff at the Danville Museum. Strange voices have started appearing on the foreign language tapes they use. He's not sure how long it's been going on, but a German tourist reported hearing a woman talking in English on one tape. The voice was crying, saying that too many men had died. A couple of Chuck's students wanted to investigate for their thesis work and the University gave him the okay and some resources." "Electronic... Mulder, has Chuck considered that this might just be a prank?" "Yeah, he thought about it. He got the initial information about three months ago. The staffer at the museum checked all the tapes after that and they were clean. But it's happened twice more since then. And there are some other strange things happening at the museum." "Like what?" "Like... Orbs showing up on photographs taken inside the museum. Strange sounds, people reporting items being moved or taken." "Ghosts, Mulder? You want to go ghost hunting with Chuck? On Halloween? That's original." "What better time, Scully? The proximity of this world and the spirit world is never closer than on All Hallows Eve. Besides, what else have I got to do that's so all-important? As you so correctly pointed out, I'm on desk duty until after I see the doctor next Friday. My reports are up to date, including the expense reports, the budget meeting was yesterday and I haven't had a single VCS consult come across my desk all week. Cut me some slack, Scully. I'm bored. B. O. R. E. D. I'm just going along with Chuck to help out with the interviews and stuff. I don't even have to do any heavy lifting. His students are going to be there to do all the hard work. It'll be a nice long, relaxing weekend away." Scully wasn't entirely convinced and told her partner so, however she could understand that he was frustrated at not being allowed to work to full capacity. His shoulder wound had almost healed, despite the fact that the wound had infected, and there really wasn't any reason why this little excursion would hurt. So, in the end she relented and wished him a good and safe weekend. Friday, October 31 1997 Mulder and Chuck made good time getting to Danville on the day before, arriving a little after lunchtime, and checked into the Sleep Inn Hotel. Chuck's students, Ron, Jess and Peter, followed them down with the van full of the University's equipment which included everything from heat-sensing and infra red equipment to a metal detector and baby powder. They spent that first afternoon checking out the museum and talking to the staff. Mulder interviewed Betty Robbins, the staffer who had reported the unusual happenings in the first place, and two of her colleagues. They listened to the affected tapes, which Betty had kept. It was decided that the research group would spent the following night in the museum, with all their equipment, to see if anything happened. As Mulder had said to Scully before, if anything was likely to happen, Halloween was the perfect time. It sounded pretty kitschy even to him, but he was just along for the ride on this one. At five o'clock on Halloween evening, when the museum closed, they started to set the equipment up at various strategic points, including the room where the language tapes were stored. By 10 o'clock all they had to do was wait. They had a picnic of sorts with them for if they got hungry, but all were too wired to eat just yet. Mulder was surprised when his cell phone rang. "Hi, Mulder, it's me. How's the ghost busting going?" "Hey, Scully. We're doing okay. Just have to wait until the witching hour," Mulder joked. "Yeah, well, feel like some company?" Mulder's brow creased a puzzled frown. "What do you mean? I'm here with Chuck and the guys. I'm not alone." "I know that. What I meant was, would you... and Chuck... like an impartial witness? A skeptic who could really validate your research?" Scully sighed, "Oh, hell. Look, I took the afternoon off and drove up here. I'm in Danville now. I just checked into your hotel. So, want some company or do I have to go find a group of kids to go trick or treating with on my own?" "Hold on, Scully," Mulder quickly explained the situation to Chuck who was more than happy for Scully to come along. "Sure. We'd love your input," Mulder said into the phone. "Okay. I'll be there in about ten minutes. Can you meet me outside?" Mulder agreed, hung up and, taking the bunch of keys they'd been left with, went to meet Scully at the main entrance to the museum. There was a chilly bite to the wind that blew outside, and the door banged shut behind Mulder as he went out to greet his partner. "So, what are you really doing here, Scully? Checking up on me?" Mulder asked curiously. "Don't flatter yourself, Mulder," she answered. "I had nothing to do this weekend, Mom is away in San Diego with Matthew for Halloween, so I thought I'd see just how Chuck and his band of merry men were doing." "Ah, one of the students is a girl, Scully." "All the more reason for me to be here and keep you boys out of trouble." "I don't know what *that's* supposed to mean," Mulder sounded hurt. "She's a big girl and can take care of herself. Or maybe you thought to protect *my* honor from her." He chuckled. "Just hurry up and get the door open, Mulder. It's cold out here." Mulder fumbled with the keys and tried another one in the lock. "The keys don't seem to fit this lock. I could have sworn that the curator said it was this one." He held up the keys to what little light there was. It was new moon, so there was only the weak light that shone from the car park lamps. By Chuck's request, all the security lighting in and around the immediate vicinity of the museum had been shut off for the night. "There's another door around the other side," Mulder suggested. "This lock must be stuck. We can get in through the other door." The second door opened easily and they were soon inside. Scully rubbed her arms through her thick jacket. "It's not a lot warmer in here, is it?" "Chuck had them shut off everything electric or electronic so it wouldn't interfere with the equipment. It's pretty sensitive stuff. This way." Mulder led off down the mansion's hallway towards the stairs and up to where Chuck and the others waited for them. Mulder stopped abruptly when they entered the upstairs parlor. "That's odd." "What's odd, Mulder?" Scully asked, stepping around him to look into the room. "They're not here." "Maybe they went to check out the other equipment?" Scully suggested helpfully. "No, I don't think so. The stuff that was in here is gone, too." Sure enough, there was no evidence that any of the monitors had ever been set up in the room. And there simply hadn't been enough time from when Mulder left them and now for it all to have been dismantled and moved. Besides, Chuck wouldn't have just taken off without telling him. "This is the same place you were in, right, Mulder?" Scully asked. "Of course it is, Scully. I know this is a big house, but there was only one upstairs parlor. This is weird." Scully followed Mulder as they both systematically checked all the rooms upstairs, calling out to Chuck and the others as they went. There was no sign of them in anywhere in the museum. Mulder tried to call Chuck on his cell phone but he couldn't get it to switch on. "Forget to charge the battery again?" Scully laughed as she pulled out her own phone. "Did you?" Mulder asked as Scully was also unable to get her phone to work. "I don't understand it. I had it charging all day in the office." "There's something very weird going on here, Scully. I think we should go back outside to the cars. Maybe something happened and they had to leave?" Mulder said, without much hope that it was even remotely possible. It had taken them hours to set all the gear up, no one could have taken it all out again in the fifteen minutes he'd been gone. Mulder was having trouble with the keys again. None of the doors to the outside would unlock. He was considering breaking a window when Scully called out to him from where she stood at the cellar door. "There's a draft here, Mulder. Feels like there could be a door to the outside open down here. Why don't we go look before you start breaking windows?" Scully started down the cellar steps and was already starting to explore the enormous room for the source of the draft and something to light the way by the time Mulder made it to the cellar door. Reluctantly Mulder agreed and started to follow, although his instinct told him it was probably a bad idea to go down to the cellar. As soon as he had crossed the threshold and set foot on the first step, the door slammed shut behind him and knocked him off balance. With a yell, Mulder tumbled down the stairs, landing with a sound thud at the bottom. He moaned as he tried to untangle arms and legs from the unceremonious heap he found himself in. "Mulder!" Scully called out worriedly in the dark. "Are you all right?" With the cellar door shut, there was no natural light at all. There was one small window that would have been at ground level on the outside but with no moon, no light shone helpfully in, even the car park lighting did not reach in. "Don't move, Mulder." Scully carefully put one foot in front of the other, making her way by feel back to the stairs where Mulder lay. "Are you hurt?" She called out to him, hoping to orient herself to his direction in the cavernous cellar. "Scully?" Mulder answered back. "Ow. I think I broke something in my damn shoulder," he gasped as he tried to move again. "And maybe my knee." Finally Scully bumped into the stair railing and felt her way to her partner. "We need some light, Mulder. Do you have a flashlight or even matches?" She asked as she carefully felt his neck and spine to rule out serious injury. He almost screamed when she reached his left shoulder. "Sorry," she apologized, "I think you've broken your collar bone. I need your belt, Mulder, so I can strap your arm to your chest and make you feel a little bit more comfortable." With a little difficulty, they managed to get the belt out from the belt-loops of his pants and around his chest, effectively immobilizing his useless arm. He moaned again as she touched his rapidly swelling left knee. "I can't tell what you've done to your knee, hopefully it's just a sprain." It wasn't displaced, which was a good sign, but without an x-ray or cat scan, she couldn't tell what damage had been done. "Does it hurt anywhere else?" "No, not really. A few bumps and bruises I think." "Did you hit your head? Black out?" She'd already determined that he hadn't broken any ribs and just had to hope that he hadn't done any internal damage, although the distance he'd tumbled was no more than 12 feet, so it was quite likely that he couldn't have hurt himself too badly, other than twisting his knee and landing on his shoulder. "No, my head's fine." "All right, stay put. I'm going back upstairs to get some help." Scully carefully made her way back up the stairs only to discover that the door was jammed tightly closed, and wouldn't budge. "Dammit," she cursed. "Looks like we're stuck down here." Feeling her way back down, Scully's fingers brushed against something on the wall. Something she'd missed on her way down the first time. A candle holder. In it was a half-burned candle. Now all they needed was matches. She felt around the candle holder and came up an old fashioned striker. In a moment she had the candle lit. Mulder looked up at her as she beamed in triumph. "It's not a lot and it might not last too long, but it's something," she smiled down at him. Mulder had managed to pull himself up into almost a sitting position, leaning back against the stairs. "Maybe you can find another candle on one of the shelves." He indicated the row of shelving that ran along one wall. Scully did a quick search and managed to find just one more candle. With luck, they would have enough light to last until morning, if they really needed it. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to Chuck and his students. Surely they would come looking for Mulder? She checked her watch. It read 10.13. Odd, it seemed to have stopped working as soon as she and Mulder had entered the old house. She figured that no more than and hour could have passed since then. Scully set the candle in the corner away from the slight draft, but close enough to give them the benefit of its feeble flame. Mulder did not look good. He was in considerable pain and there was nothing she could do to help him. She settled herself down beside him, on his right side, and pulled him against her to help keep him warm and comfortable. "You should try to get some rest. We might be down here all night." He chuckled and sucked in a breath as the movement jostled his shoulder. "I just can't cut a break can I, Scully? I mean, even just doing something as benign as ghost-hunting and I manage to get hurt. Just two short weeks ago, I seem to recall, we were in almost this same exact position." "Well, I'm not going to sing for you tonight, Mulder." "Okay, but can we just keep talking? Anything to keep my mind occupied so I don't think about how much I hurt." "All right. Tell me about Chuck's research, this Electronic Voice Phenomena thing or whatever he's here to investigate." "EVP is the alleged communication by spirits through tape recorders and other electronic devices. The idea that it might be possible actually began with an interview with Thomas Edison back in the 1920's. The phenomena is also referred to as Instrumental Transcommunication, and isn't restricted to tape recorders. As media has become more sophisticated so, it seems, has the method with which the spirits are trying to communicate. Television, hard drives, fax machines, video cameras etcetera, etcetera." "Why, Mulder, do I sense a hint of the skeptic in your tone?" "I don't know, Scully. That's why I thought it might be interesting to see for myself. I'm open to a lot of stuff, as you know... Ouch." Mulder shifted position again, trying to get even a little comfortable with no luck. "I believe in the spirit world, but some of this stuff is too convenient. I guess I prefer more old-fashioned ghost stories, and this house has plenty of them." "Do tell," Scully encouraged him, seeing that he was still fighting to control the pain. "This great and noble building was once the Sutherlin Mansion, home to Major William T. Sutherlin. At the end of the Civil War, when Richmond fell Confederate President Jefferson Davis and his government stayed here for a week. Davis wrote and delivered his final proclamation to the Confederacy on April 4th, 1865, just before the surrender. "It has been said that there is a ghost that wanders through the halls, a woman. You can hear her footsteps, hear a girly moan, see the image of a young woman in the mirrors, and even smell cigar smoke, although I don't think the cigar smoke is the same ghost. Chuck thinks it might be her voice that has appeared on those tapes. Some who have been brave enough to stay here overnight have claimed to see strange Orbs floating through the halls, and have felt cold spots even on warm nights." "Interesting. You think that Chuck is off chasing her around the halls now?" "I've been thinking about that. Chuck, Jess, Peter and Ron couldn't have just disappeared. There was too much equipment upstairs for them to move so quickly. I'm thinking that somehow we've managed to slip into an alternate dimension." "Mulder, I think you are delirious with pain." Scully laughed. "Think about it, Scully. There's no other explanation." "There's always an explanation." "You keep saying that, but you can't always prove it." "An explanation doesn't necessarily *have* to be proved, Mulder. It can be a theory. Sometimes an explanation just tells you why something might have happened but not what happened." "Then why doesn't Skinner accept my explanations all the time? They're plausible, but he keeps on insisting on evidence." Mulder sounded put out, pouty even. "Oh, like the article you wrote for the Lone Gunmen's rag on Jack the Ripper? Your theory that he's like Eugene Victor Tooms and he's hibernating somewhere, ready to strike again, and has already done so on several occasions?" "That's entirely different, Scully. That wasn't for an official case report. The guys asked me to do some speculating. I just pointed out some extreme possibilities. And you and I both know that it could be possible. If Tooms could do it, so could Jack. And who's not to say they weren't related." "Come on now, Mulder. That's ridiculous." "Maybe." He shifted uncomfortably. "You okay?" Scully asked. "Yeah. I'm hungry. I missed lunch and dinner. All I can think about is a double cheeseburger with extra onions." "Well..." Scully fidgeted for a moment, fishing for something in her pocket. "It's not much and probably won't even fill a corner of your stomach, but I have a mini pack of Goldfish here you're welcome to." "Thanks, but I'll pass. If it looks like we'll be down here for days I might fight you for them, though." "Suit yourself." She put them back into her pocket for later. They were silent for a long while and Scully thought Mulder might have fallen asleep. She started to doze herself and jerked awake when Mulder spoke again. "If you won't sing to me, tell me a story, Scully." "A story? Like a fairy tale?" "No. A ghost story. Maybe something that's happened to you or your family." "Gee, Mulder, I don't have any ghost stories. At least not from personal experience. Although there was this one time that something strange and a little spooky happened to my family. It's more of a mystery story than anything else." "Tell me about it." Mulder gasped in a tight voice as he moved again. "How are you doing?" She was concerned. Mulder need to go the emergency room, sooner rather than later. His injuries weren't life-threatening but he had to be in a lot of pain and discomfort. "I'm fine. Tell me about the Great Scully Family mystery." Mulder settled himself with his head cradled into Scully's lap. "It happened one summer. Dad was home and we had this camping trip planned. I remember that I was about 12 and Missy was 15 nearly 16, I think. She wanted to spend the summer with her friends, going to the beach, not with her Mom, Dad and brothers and sister. She had a boyfriend that Dad would have gone ballistic over if he'd known about him. Dad was a little strict about boys. "Anyway, we spent one weekend painstakingly going through all the camping gear, getting it all into shape and packed ready for our trip. We hadn't used the equipment in a couple of years because Dad was away at sea for most of the previous summer. It took a lot of work, but we finally had it all ready for loading. Our trip was two weeks away. "Missy did everything she could to get out of the trip. Bill couldn't understand why she didn't want to spend time with Dad and the whole family together. He was 13 or 14, and nothing was more important than camping. I understood how she felt, Brian was her first boyfriend. But I couldn't say anything to Dad, or he'd ground Missy for sure. Besides, I wasn't looking forward to having to put up with Missy pining the whole trip." "Don't tell me you sabotaged the camping trip?" Mulder asked, a little incredulous that his Scully could be so devious. "No, I didn't. And neither did Missy. That I know for sure. But when we came to pack up to leave, we couldn't find one of the tents. It had been there when we checked everything out, everyone swore that they hadn't touched it, yet it was missing. So now we only had two tents, the one that Missy and I shared had vanished." "Did someone come and steal it?" Mulder asked. "I don't see how they could have, Mulder. And why would anyone just take one tent when there was all this other valuable camping stuff sitting in the garage with it. Dad didn't want to go out and buy another one, so we turned the garage and half the house upside down looking for it. The boys offered to sleep out under the stars, but Dad wouldn't let them. Charlie was only 10 and Dad wanted us all under cover in case of rain. He had this sort of regimented approach to camping. Everything done properly, safety first and all that, which meant we needed three tents." "So what did you do?" "Dad said that we'd have to cancel the trip. That made Missy happy, but Bill and Charlie started whining. I wanted to go, but only so I could spend time with Dad, I didn't care if it was camping or not. "Finally, Mom said that she and Missy would stay home, and the rest of us could go. With three kids pleading with him, Dad had no choice but to give in. But, he said, we would come home a week early. He wanted to spend some of his leave with Mom and Missy too." "So that's your big mystery story, Scully?" "Not quite, see the strange thing was, when we arrived at the camping ground and set up, we had three tents again. We all helped pack the car up, and it definitely wasn't there when we packed. How did it disappear, only to reappear several hours later?" "No big mystery, Scully. Someone hid it so that Missy didn't have to go camping." "Maybe, but who? It certainly wasn't me, and it couldn't have been Melissa - she was with me and Mom all morning packing the food. And there's no way Bill would have jeopardized the trip, and Charlie was too young to have even thought about it. Besides, neither of them knew that Missy didn't want to go." "I think I know the answer, Scully." Mulder was sounding sleepy, and cracked a yawn. "It wasn't Mom. She didn't know about Brian. I'm sure she didn't. And Dad had no reason to not want to go. So what's your explanation, Mulder?" "Explanation?" Mulder was fading fast, falling victim to his pain induced exhaustion. "I don't have an explanation that will satisfy you, so what's the point. Let me instead quote you something from a Walt Whitman poem called "All Is Truth". "O ME, man of slack faith so long, Or as any law of the earth or any natural production of the earth does" Mulder fell silent as Scully tried to piece together what the hell he meant. The candle sputtered its last sparks of light and then fell dark. "So what you're saying is that it doesn't matter what your faith or belief is, the truth is a product of that belief? Mulder?" There was no reply, just the sound of soft breathing. Scully sighed. She'd let him sleep for a while. Maybe he'd explain his cryptic reference later. She didn't bother with trying to get up and light the other candle, it had to be only a few more hours until dawn. Saturday 01 November, 10am Mulder was finally resting comfortably. His knee was splinted and he was sporting a sling and harness supporting his clavicle. He had been shot full of Demerol and was currently off in dreamland. The doctor said they'd keep him for around 24 hours for observation, but they didn't expect any complications. His knee wasn't badly damaged, although he'd strained the ligaments so it would take a few weeks of resting it and PT before he'd be allowed back on his two feet. Staff at the museum had found them when they opened up for the day. Scully had called out as she heard movement in the hall above them. Why the cellar door has locked was a mystery. Paramedics had been quickly called and Mulder packed off to the emergency room. Chuck and his team swore that they'd been in the upstairs parlor all night, and had not seen Mulder since he left to let Scully in the night before. Chuck had just assumed that Mulder had decided that he'd rather spend the night with Scully and had actually been rather peeved that Mulder hadn't bothered to at least tell him he was leaving. Their ghost-hunting equipment had picked up a few oddities during the night, but nothing specific enough to be conclusive. Nobody could explain why Mulder and Scully had been unable to find Chuck and his team when they had returned. Chuck included that information in the research report, but all in all the trip had been pretty much a total bust. The team wanted to stay a few more nights but, given that one person had already been injured, the museum wasn't prepared to let them stay. Scully sat, reading some historical brochures she'd picked up the day before at the hotel, waiting for Mulder to wake up from his drug induced slumber. She wanted to talk to him more about what he thought was the answer to the Scully Family Mystery. It had dogged her for years, trying to work out what had happened and then she'd forgotten about it. Until now. Now it was going to bug her all over again. No. There was one way to find out. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed. "Hi mom. Mom, do you remember the time that we were going camping...." End Challenge requirements: Subject: A Halloween Challenge You have until Halloween. I'm giving you two months because I want you to take your time and perhaps research a few of the topics. I am going to give a prize to the story with the best parapsychological detail! Let Google be your friend! Any length; any genre (angst, comedy, etc.); anything goes Relationship-wise between any characters, but these don't have to be relationship stories! Sex is NOT required. You must include:
Notes: I have done some research on the web, as instructed, to find out information on Orbs, Electronic Voice Phenomenon, Walt Whitman (thank you also to the X-OK members who gave additional assistance), Jack the Ripper, Danville Museum, the town of Danville, Goldfish, and haunting stories in general. But try as I might, getting into too much detail seemed to mess with the flow of the story, so I apologize for being quite superficial. Any inaccuracies or exaggerations are claimed as poetic license. The Walt Whitman quote is taken from the poem "All is Truth". I found some interesting reading material in my search for information. www.visitdanville.com for information on the fascinating history of that town and the Danville Museum. http://skepdic.com for the Skeptics Dictionary, a wealth of information about all kinds of weird phenomenon. And http://www.whitmanarchive.org for the complete works of Walt Whitman. I recommend visits to any or all of the above sites. Medusa |