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Title: Blood From A Stone Summary: Mulder and Scully investigate strange goings on in a small town... Washington DC "...so I think we can assume that it was just a plain and... Mulder?" Special Agent Fox Mulder started and then relaxed again. "Sorry," he muttered distractedly, "what was it you were saying?" Dana Scully gave an exasperated sigh. "Mulder, this is the third time you've asked me to repeat myself. If you find this report that boring you could at least tell me straight out, although it was you that-" "Ok, ok. I'm sorry." Scully glared at him. "That's the third time you've said that as well! Do you want me to carry on?" "Uh, not really," Mulder admitted. Scully gave another sigh and dumped the wad of typed sheets down onto her otherwise tidy desk. Actually, she wasn't particularly bothered about the report - it was Mulder's attitude that continued to drive her crazy. She wasn't just his slave, she was his partner. That meant equal. She opened her mouth to express her thoughts but was interrupted by the shrill ring of Mulder's cell phone. Surprisingly, he jumped like she'd just caught him with his nose in one of those magazines. "Mulder... yeah, thanks. Yeah, I'm on my way." Putting his phone away, he reached for his jacket and left. Scully didn't move. Three minutes later, Mulder stuck his head back around the door. "Well, are you coming?" "Where, Mulder? Mulder!!" Too late. Suppressing her anger as best she could, she scooped up her trench coat and chased after him. Ten minutes later, the dark sedan pulled up outside the local airport. Mulder leaped out straight away and strode swiftly in the direction of the terminal, followed a moment or two after by Scully, who found herself having to jog to keep up. At the check-in desk, Mulder produced two tickets and spoke quietly to the woman perched behind it, and less than five minutes later, they were on board a small jet ready to take off. "Mulder, what the hell do you think you're doing? We don't have any bags or anything." "There wasn't any time," he replied, tight lipped. "Anyway, you can come back and fetch what you need tonight." "So what is it that you're in such a hurry to see? I hope this isn't your idea of taking me out to lunch." "Nope. Sorry." "Well, why didn't you warn me sooner then? You were obviously expecting this." "The tickets were a bit of a give-away, weren't they?" "Mulder! I have a right to at least know where we're going!" Now she was really getting angry, and Mulder stopped smirking. "Stanford Falls, Massachusetts. A teenage girl has just disappeared without trace from her home and I want to have a look." Scully decided then and there that she was going to leave him to play his pathetic games on his own. Little more was said for the rest of the short flight. Crime Scene: Shelburne Falls, Massachusetts As they drew up outside the house, a familiar sight met them. Squad cars, crime scene tape, local law enforcement running in and out. Scully decided to make one more attempt at getting a straight answer out of Mulder. "Is there anything else I ought to know before I go in there and make a complete fool of myself?" Mulder shrugged. "There isn't much to tell. This girl - Elizabeth - went upstairs and never came back. There's no way she could have gone anywhere without being seen yet she's disappeared completely." "Are you sure we're not just wasting our time," Scully warned him with her favorite sceptical expression. "There could be-" He put up his hand and interrupted her. "...a perfectly rational explanation. Yeah, I know, Scully. Heard all that before. No, what's interesting here is the history, but I'll explain all that when we get back. It's pretty complex." Climbing out of the car, they made their way into the house, flashing their ID. "FBI? We're here to investigate-" "Yeah, go on in. Though there's nothing very interesting to see," the bored guard informed them. Beyond the agents, however, several glances were passed back and forth, and phone calls were made. Unaware, Mulder and Scully trailed off inside and headed for the living room. The place was still swarming with officials so Mulder must have been tipped off pretty early on. As Mulder began to ask his questions, Scully slipped off up the stairs into one of the other rooms, the master bedroom judging by the looks of things. And an ensuite bathroom. Nice. She stuck her head around the door... "Where's the rest of the family?" "Staying with relatives. I can tell you they're pretty distraught." "So what's been done so far?" "Well, we've set up road blocks, got men searching the area... the usual." Mulder nodded, in a blank, emotionless way. "Thank you" he said to the sergeant, who nodded politely. He turned to find someone else to ask. Scully reeled back, slightly shocked by what she saw. The small sink in the relatively tiny bathroom was streaked with blood, in a strange, almost symmetrical pattern resembling a spider, small rivulets running down towards the central plug hole. Although, the blood was no longer running. When she tested it with a gloved hand, it had an odd consistency, almost like tomato sauce. But why smear that down the sides of your sink, and how could anyone spread it so smoothly? There were no fingerprints, no smudges, nothing to destroy the perfection of it. Lifting the camera, Scully began to take shots of the sink, before taking a small sample and placing it in the plastic evidence bag, which was in turn tucked into her pocket. A few shots more, and the camera stopped working. What the hell, Scully thought, and then realized she'd used up the film. The whole film? No, she must have forgotten to check it when Mulder rushed them off in such a hurry. Good job she had a spare one, she thought, as she loaded it. Downstairs, however, the conversation had turned somewhat ugly. "I don't care. This is a routine case and it comes under the jurisdiction of local law enforcement only, and NOT the FBI." "But I have information to suggest that this 'disappearance' is connected with a case that the FBI has been unable to solve in previous years, and I'd say that counts as 'jurisdiction.'" "Well, sir, do you have anything to prove this link?" Mulder sighed and gave in. "No, not with me." "Then please leave the property or I'll be forced to charge you." "Ok, ok. I'm going." The heavy set sheriff placed a restraining hand on Mulder's shoulder. "My men say you had a partner with you?" Damn. "Yeah. Scully!" Scully appeared at the top of the stairs with a slightly surprised expression on her face. "Mulder? Wha-" He waved her aside. "Time to go" he said, sounding tired. As she made her way down the staircase, she was prevented from asking any more by several of the sheriff's men, who surrounded her, checking pockets of her trench coat and tearing the film from her camera. Finally satisfied, they shoved her quite heavily in Mulder's direction, causing her to fall. "You ok?" he asked as he helped her up. "Yeah..." Scully paused before asking "What the hell's going on?" Mulder shook his head with that familiar frustrated look in his eyes. "I'll explain in the car," he replied. "Four girls, Scully, all disappeared in exactly the same circumstances from exactly the same area. Happens every year on the same day for the last ten years. Probably before that for all I can tell." Scully leafed quickly through the files Mulder had pulled out of his briefcase. "And they never found them?" "Nope. Not a trace. Not even a body." "Wait, it says here that the FBI were never called in." "No," Mulder agreed. "It was this 'we can handle it by ourselves' business - much like we got today. That's why there isn't much evidence there." Hearing this, Scully remembered. "Mulder, there was blood in the sink, loads of it. It was - well, you can look at the photo." Mulder gave her an odd look."But they destroyed the film, didn't they?" She shook her head with a smile. "No, I forgot to put a fresh film in before we arrived. I got a couple of shots on the last one, and a sample. It's in my pocket." He was pleased for a moment, but then remembered something else. "Scully, they went through your trenchcoat. People like that wouldn't let it go." Scully shook her head again. "The pockets in my trenchcoat aren't any good - stuff always falls out of them. It's in my jacket... see?" Mulder glanced quickly across at the clear bag. "Great. Ok, my plan is that you fly back to DC. Pick up whatever stuff you need and get that film developed but whatever happens, don't let out of your sight. Could you do it yourself?" "No, but there's a guy I know who can." "Ok. I'm going to find a motel so get back here as quickly as you can and call me. I'm going to ring round, see what I can learn." "What about that sample?" "Just keep it with you, and don't show anyone. Put it in your bra or something." "Mulder!" "Hey," he told her with an innocent look, "I'm just taking precautions." "Liberties, more like," Scully muttered. The Sunflower Inn, Massachusetts No sooner had Mulder put his phone away than it bleeped again. "Mulder." "It's me." "Hello me." There was a pointed pause. "Where are you?" "Um... the Sunflower Inn. It's about five miles east down the freeway, you can't miss it it." "Ok. I'll be with you in about... ten minutes." "Right." Scully arrived bearing a couple of sports bags, and a card backed envelope tucked under her arm. "Is that it?" Mulder asked hopefully. His partner nodded, and dropped the bags near the doorway so that she bring the photo across to show him. Spreading them out on the table, he studied them carefully. There were only three shots, each from different angles and blown up to show all the detail. "I don't know how she managed to get it so.. neat," Scully remarked at length. "She?" Mulder looked up with raised eyebrows, his expression making her uncomfortable at her assumption. "Well, it must have something to do with the girl," Scully protested. "Why else would anyone smear whatever this is all over their sink? It wouldn't make sense." "For all we know, it could be some kind of sink cleaner." "Yes, but that still doesn't explain the pattern. As well as which, there weren't any obvious prints as far as I could see." "We'd better get this analyzed as soon as possible," Mulder said, sitting down on the bed. "We need all the leads we can get on this one." "Mmm." After a while, Scully turned back to him. "So did you find out anything?" Mulder shrugged and lifted the sheets of paper he had previously abandoned in favor of the photos. "One Elizabeth Jayne Harvey, born 26th June 1980. Fifteen years old. Two brothers: one older, one younger. Neither were around at the time. That's about it really. Oh, there is one way we can get more information." "Yeah?" "If we find her body. Then it's officially classed murder and the FBI has jurisdiction." "You think she was murdered?" Scully questioned. "Yeah," he replied. "Why, don't you?" His face was a mask of innocence. "Oh, cm'on Mulder. There has to be something here that makes it an x-file. Let me guess: aliens are kidnapping teenage girls every two years in order to carry out experiments on them and they've transformed themselves to look exactly like the sheriff's men just to stop us finding out and-" Mulder couldn't help but laugh. "Ok, Scully, you've made your point." "So what's the big deal on this case, then?" He rubbed his forehead and yawned. "I'm not sure... I think it has something to do with the stuff you found in the sink. But right now, I suggest we just sleep on it." "Yes." Scully made for the door and then stopped. "Did you book me a room?" she asked. "Ah" Mulder replied, a guilty look creeping across his face. "I kinda forgot about that." "I'll go down now, then." He watched her go. Damn, he thought, not quite sure whether he meant it or not. June 22nd 1997 There was an incessant knocking on the door. "Hey, Scully, rise and shine!" "Mmmph." As Scully woke up and let him in, Mulder wasted no time in outlining his plans for the day. "I want you to take a look at the sample you pulled from the sink. Now, there's a hospital just down the road at Greenfield and the guy who runs the path lab there is a friend of a friend, so he's agreed to let you come in and he'll give you a hand if you need one. Oh, and he understands about keeping it quiet. Ok?" "Yeah. How about you?" "I'm going to see an old friend who might be able to help us find the body." "Welcome, sir. Ah yes, I can sense a strong force of-" "Cut the crap, Susan, It's me." The woman peered out from behind the gauzy curtain. "Mulder? Sorry, didn't recognize you from there." "What's with all the mumbo-jumbo? Never used to be quite like that." Sue shrugged. She was a pleasant looking woman with long brown hair, just a little older than Mulder himself. "It's what gets the customers. People only like to believe something if it's how they expect. I would have thought you would appreciate that." "Yeah. Listen, I need your help again." "Oh? Another 'x-file', isn't that what you call them?" "Did you hear about that girl at Stanford Falls?" "Disappeared yesterday, didn't she?" Mulder nodded, and Sue continued. "They keep things pretty quiet. I avoid that place if I can." "How come?" he asked. "There's something weird there. Like the whole town is keeping some kind of secret, and they're all watching you carefully to make sure you don't find out. And they're very religious, always going on about God and sinners." "Well, I think the girl was murdered, and others before. The thing is, before they'll let the FBI in, we have to find the bodies and prove that it's a case of homicide." "And you want me to have a look" she stated, understanding. Mulder merely nodded. "Ok..." There was silence for a few moments. "Do you have anything of hers, anything that she touched-" "No, we got thrown out before we got a proper look. Her name was Elizabeth." Sue closed her eyes for a moment. "Underground somewhere. Lots of them." "Is she there?" "Yes... too late to save her now." "But we can stop it happening again." "Well, I'm guessing it's a field. A shallow grave. But that doesn't narrow it down much, though." "Is it nearby?" "Near the town... ploughed up but nothing growing. Small. That's all I can tell you." "Ok," Mulder said tersely. "Better start looking." "Scully." "We've found them. I've got about five guys from the local field office here, and with any luck we should have the papers within an hour or two." "Oh. Where?" "A field just outside the town. There's at least nine corpses here, they reckon, and one of them's fresh. I've arranged for an autopsy to be set up." "I'm on my way," Scully confirmed. By the time Scully drew up at the field where, true to Sue's word, the remains had been found, the familiar tape had already been wound all around, and there was a large white tent around what she assumed was the actual excavation. FBI personnel swarmed across the site, and she also spotted the sheriff sullenly looking on. As she flashed her ID and ducked beneath the boundary, Mulder waved enthusiastically from a distance. "Who's that?" asked Sue, standing beside him. "Scully. My partner." "Mulder!" Scully was a little breathless from jogging down the meadow. "An ambulance is on it's way. They're taking the body back to Greenwich General so that you can do the autopsy." "Can I take a look?" He nodded. "But I warn you, it's not a pretty sight." When she had departed, Sue said "Got yourself a nice one there, Mulder." He laughed. "Scully's off limits." "What?" she questioned. "You mean there's nothing between you two?" "No," he confirmed as they made their way across the field. "We're just friends." Sue said nothing, but he could sense that she didn't believe him. Scully emerged as the ambulance drew up, looking pretty shaken. As a couple of the forensics team carried the sheet covered body out on a stretcher, she followed them up the bank. "Hey, Scully, wait up!" Mulder drew level with her. "Can I come with you? There's not much to do around here and..." "Sure." Scully sounded drained, tired even. "Tell you what, you can be in charge of the camera." "Ooh, what an honor. Thank you, oh mighty scalpel wielder." "Save it, Mulder." Five minutes later, they entered the hospital. Greenwich General was housed in a new, modern looking structure, built to serve quite a large area. Sue made her farewells and departed, leaving Mulder and Scully to wait out in the corridor. As the trolley was wheeled into one of the autopsy bays, Scully glanced across the hallway and saw a young girl watching them from a couple of abandoned plastic chairs, hugging herself and shivering slightly; she looked frightened. One hand repeatedly clenched the scrap of paper she held. "Are you all right?" The girl did not answer the question but instead stated "That's Liz there, isn't it?" Scully began "Well, we can't really say until..." "Yes," Mulder cut in, standing behind her, "I believe it is." "Does that mean the FBI are coming?" she asked hopefully. "We hope so," Scully told her. "Why, do you know what happened to her?" "No more than anybody does." "Anybody?" Mulder queried. "Anybody from Stanford." "Was Elizabeth a friend of yours?" asked Scully. "Not really. But maybe next year... I would be her." "What-" Mulder started, but the girl continued. "I'll be fifteen next year, and I don't know if I believe. If they find out, then it will be me who dies." "But-" As Mulder tried to find out more, Scully cut him off. "Start from the beginning. What's your name?" she asked, not unkindly. "Rebecca. Becky. I was born here. You see, there's a curse on the town. They say it will be eternal night unless-" Suddenly, she spotted something over Mulder's shoulder and gasped. Both agents whirled round only to see the sheriff approaching. Behind them, Becky declared "I've already told you, I don't know anything. I've never even met the girl before!" "Rebecca? Are these people hassling you?" "Yes, sir. They keep asking me all these questions about that girl." The sheriff turned to Mulder and Scully. "Don't you two have an autopsy to do?" he sneered. "I'd prefer it if you stopped harassing innocent children or I might be forced to press charges. Come on, Rebecca, I'll take you home." Obediently, the girl slipped past the agents and made to follow him, pausing for a fraction of a second to press the crumpled piece of paper into Scully's hand, as she and Mulder exchanged glances. "Now that's what I call real community spirit," Mulder muttered as he ushered his partner through the door. "So what's happening about that specimen from the crime scene?" "It's definitely blood. There's a high concentration of salts, and more interestingly, amino acids, but nothing especially abnormal. The DNA was a little odd, though." "How so?" Scully tried to find a way of describing it. "Well, it wasn't so much that there was anything wrong with it... but we couldn't find any substantial pieces - at least, not enough to run an analysis. It was all... fragmented. That could happen naturally under the right conditions but I don't think that that could have been the case here." "Do you have any idea at all about what could have caused it." "I've sent a small sample for further examination. One of the experts is looking at it now. But..." She shrugged. "I just don't know, Mulder." "Let's get going on the autopsy, then." "No. I think you should check this out." She held out the sheet. It was a small, hand drawn leaflet for a museum in Stanford Falls. The museum, in fact. But why? Shelburne Fall's museum was located towards the centre of the town, in a small stone building that looked considerable older than those surrounding it. Mulder was glad to see it was open: he didn't really want to face the consequences of breaking in and he didn't have the patience to wait. Fortunately, there was a teenage boy sitting in the small ticket office, with a bored expression on his face, idly flicking over the piles of coins stacked neatly beside him. As Mulder watched, the last one collapsed and he began to rebuild them again. "Er... hi, there," Mulder began, "Is it possible to take a look around." "Sure." Handing over his money, he took the ticket from the boy and went awkwardly through the turnstile. Inside, the museum wasn't particularly exciting, littered with artifacts from the history of the town: old farming equipment, clothes and all the rest. It had been laid out in such a way that as you went from room to room, you appeared to be stepping further back in time, and Mulder spent several minutes examining the contents of each room searching for a clue. However, he could find no reason why Rebecca would have given him the leaflet. Maybe she shouldn't have had it and didn't want to get caught, he mused. Or maybe it's a set-up to waste our time. Maybe they think that if they mess us around enough, we'll give up and go away. After all, her story did sound a bit far fetched. All the same, there was something in her behavior... if she was acting, she's pretty good at it. He paused to finger a display on witches burnt at the stake, dark and shadowy, and glanced down at the placards. The writer obviously agreed with those sacrifices, talking about 'evil black magic' and 'cleansing'... They're very religious, always going on about God and sinners... Sue's words echoed in his head, as he moved onwards again. The last chamber was almost in darkness. The heavy blinds were pulled down, shutting out all daylight, and instead the room was lit by a few flickering candles, adding to the eerie scene in front of him. A large stone table occupied most of the center of the room, inscribed with odd symbols and in the center, an indentation roughly the size of a human, although a little small. About the size of a teenager, Mulder realized and with growing interest, he examined the rest of the room. There was little else, only a couple of glass cases containing various ornamental knives, sparklingly clean. When he held a candle up to the walls, he could see they were painted a deep crimson color, and the carpet was worn and tatty. There was no information, no labels, no signs - just this. An odd sense of dread filled him as the blinds caught his eye again. They say it will be eternal night... Impulsively, he reached towards them, and then with one sharp movement, tugged them open, letting the fresh sunlight flood in and fill the room. Nothing happened. Mulder stood for a few moments and looked out into the small courtyard: it was just a gap between buildings, really - there was no entrance, just a few windows. Still baffled, he turned back to the room. And froze. The table was bleeding. The autopsy finished, Scully showered and changed before turning her attention to the papers she'd left ready on a desk. With the discovery of the corpses, she'd finally been allowed access to the medical records, and had found Elizabeth Harvey's so that she could make a final, conclusive identification of the body. Interestingly enough, none of the other names mentioned on Mulder's list were there, despite her checking twice. Assuming he must have been wrong, she took her notes from the examination and began to compare them. After a while she was sure. It was definitely Elizabeth that had been found out in that field: blood composite, dental records, finger prints - it all matched up. Pulling out the green form, she quickly signed the necessary slots and then carried it back up to the coroner's office on the floor above. Mulder stared in disbelief as the indentation on the table slowly filled up. How could this be? A closer look determined that the 'blood' was definitely coming from the table, in small droplets that gradually grew and then ran slowly down into the center. Quickly recovering, he searched in the numerous pockets of his suit and topcoat, until he managed to recover a small plastic bag, similar to that which Scully had used at the Harveys' house, and carefully scooped up a sample, tucking it deep into his pocket. A couple of seconds later the cavalry arrived, obviously alerted by the small video camera mounted in a corner of the room. "Agent Mulder, what the hell do you think you're doing?" the tall, dark-suited man snarled. "Just letting some light in." Angrily the man sought the words he wanted. "That table is... a very precious, very valuable artifact. The stone is sensitive to daylight which is the reason why we try to keep the blinds down." "Yeah, right." When the man did not respond, he continued. "Is this what you're hiding? What you don't want 'outsiders' to know about?" "You don't know all the facts-" "Well, you can bet I'm going to find out whether you like it or not." The man raised his voice. "No! This must remain a secret!" "Not unless you tell me the truth," Mulder yelled back at him defiantly. "Fine. Go out there and tell everyone. Anyone who doesn't already know won't believe you, anyway. Go on. Try it." Realizing he was beaten, the fight left Mulder. "Ok," he said quietly, "I'm leaving. But I'll find out what's happening here if it kills me." "You had better think very carefully about whether or not you mean that," the man told him sinisterly. Ignoring him, Mulder departed. When Mulder reached the hospital, Scully was still intently poring over the sheets scattered in front of her, and didn't see him coming at first. "Hey, Scully." Startled, she looked up, and then relaxed. "Did you find anything?" she asked hopefully. He gave her that secretive smile and held up a finger. "In a minute," he told her. "You go first." Scully removed her glasses. "Ok. It was definitely Elizabeth Harvey. Estimated time of death is yesterday evening and cause is multiple stab wounds to the chest. We found traces of some kind of drug in her blood which is still under analysis but I know it's some kind of paralytic. Apart from that there isn't much else... except when I came to look at that sample I pulled from the sink again." "Go on." "It's not her blood. The grouping is all different, there's different antibodies - it just can't be her. Oh, and I found something else about that sample. The consistency was really odd, as though it was ketchup or something. It turns out the blood had clumped." "Clumped?" Mulder queried. "Yeah. It's a fairly common phenomena. It occurs when you mix two types of blood that aren't compatible - that's why they have to be so careful with transfusions. Anyway, what happens is that the antibodies of the two fluids react and cause the erythrocytes to form an adhesive, sticky coating. They clog together, and eventually block the capillaries, causing death." "So what you're saying is that there were two types of blood there mixed together?" "Well..." Scully paused and sought to find suitable words. "The thing is, Mulder, that this can only happen within the body, where the blood is being pumped. It's the relative movement of the cells that causes them to stick together. The only way in which that sample could exist as it did would be if someone took two blood samples and then stirred them together, but there'd be a considerable loss due to clotting and..." "It would be more or less impossible to leave it so neatly, without a mess, right?" "Exactly." "Well, compare it with this. See what happens." Mulder handed her the new sample. "Where did you get this from?" "I'll tell you when I get back!" he called, heading for the door. "Wait, Mulder!" He paused and Scully came back over. "Where are you going?" she asked. "I have to find that girl again." Ten minutes later, Mulder discovered that this was not going to be an easy task. Having checked the Stanford Falls telephone directory, he'd suddenly realized that he didn't even know what her surname was, and the town being what it was, he had no contacts, no way of finding out, and the nearest field office was in Greenfield. He slunk back to the hospital to find Scully. "Well," his partner said at length, "I guess it's worth a try." "Great, let's get going," Mulder said with enthusiasm, leaping straight to his feet. Scully laughed. "I still think you're mad," she told him. "Do you know how many files there are?" "But aren't they filed using some kind of system?" "Only by town and then by surname. Which isn't much use to us." "Town is a start," Mulder stated, and headed for the door. "Yup," muttered Scully behind him, "it narrows it down to, oh, about a thousand people. Oh, Mulder!" she called, and he turned back. "I thought of something else. If it's any help." "Yeah?" "The 21st of June is the Summer solstice. Longest day." "Hmm. I'll keep it in mind." The medical records of the people of Greenfield and the surrounding area were stored tidily away in a huge bank of filing cabinets in the official records office, kept securely under lock and key. Thankfully, due to the homicide case and the fact that the man in charge was obviously not from Shelburne, they had no trouble getting access, and immediately located the records they needed and began to search. One hour later, they were still going strong, peering at each file in turn and then flicking to the next one, until... "Bingo!" "Have you found it?" Scully asked. "I... think so." Mulder flipped the file open to find the photo. "Yup, this is our girl. Rebecca Lucy Williams, fourteen years old. Born here... currently at Moss River High School. It's about five miles down the road from here." He met Scully's eye and she immediately understood. "If you leave now, you should have plenty of time," she affirmed. Mulder silently reached for his jacket and was gone. The scene outside Moss River High at 4:00 was similar to that at any high school across America. Mulder hoped he'd be able to see her in time. Remembering her charade earlier that day, he had changed into casual clothes as well as sunglasses, in the hope that he wouldn't be recognized as the FBI agent that had showed up earlier that week. At that moment, he saw Rebecca walking silently with a friend, and got out of the car. "Hey, Becky, your Mom's busy so she asked me if I could give you a lift home." "Oh?" Sudden understanding appeared on her face. "Oh, right. Yes. Sorry, I'd forgotten about that." "Who's this, Becky?" the other girl asked, sounding cold and almost suspicious. Uh oh. Luckily, he was saved. "It's my Uncle Phil," Becky lied smoothly. "He's just visiting us from New York for a couple of days." "Hi" Mulder put in. "Oh. Well, why can't you catch the bus?" My turn, Mulder thought. "We're going out to dinner tonight and so we're in a bit of a hurry." The girl nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Bye then. See you tomorrow." Quickly, Mulder lead her away to his car, and headed for the freeway. "I need to talk to you again," he told her. "It's the only way I can solve this one. Will you help me?" "I don't know if I can," Rebecca answered doubtfully. She sounded scared now, like she had before. "They'll kill me if they find out, I..." "Hey, it's ok. I don't want to put you in any danger, but we can protect you. We can find somewhere safe for you to go until we can stop them." "I'm not sure if anyone can stop them. It's the whole town." "So what is it, exactly?" They were heading east, well away from Shelburne Falls. "It's like a legend. There's a curse on the town. It had to do with a stone table - it's in the museum, and every time it's exposed to daylight it... bleeds." She glanced nervously at him, afraid that he wouldn't believe her, that he'd just laugh, but he nodded instead. "That's why they keep the blinds drawn?" "Yes. If the blood dries up, there will be eternal night. So every year, on the same day, they make a... a sacrifice." Mulder looked surprised. "A fifteen year old girl. They choose the one who they think does not believe in what they're doing. Like me. It's traditional - it has to be a woman, and they think fifteen is a good age. Then they declare them ungodly and..." "Are you serious?" "Oh, yes. It's not just the table that bleeds, either. Just before it... happens, you get it everywhere. Even on parts of the street, occasionally. Everyone in the town is present. You see, it's like a religion to them - they worship it. They really believe that it's true, and there aren't enough people who don't to overthrow them. Anyone caught expressing doubt is murdered silently. No one ever talks about it." "But you..?" "I believe they should be stopped. It's wrong, sir, and it's... horrible. All the younger girls are terrified - they 'spy' on each other, turn one another in. But you have to be careful. They'll kill you too if you interfere. Please, promise me..." "What?" "Take care. And do everything you can. This has to stop." Mulder pressed the stop button on the cassette recorder. "I've seen the table, Scully. I pulled up the blinds when no one was there and... it was incredible. The guy that threw me out said it didn't matter, that no one would believe me anyway." After a moment more, Scully sighed. "It's possible it could be evoked by certain substances in the rock. The infra red radiation in sunlight could cause them to be exuded by the surface. And then there's ultra violet light, that induces substitution reactions-" "But what about all that, Scully?" "A hysterical teenager? I hardly think..." "Well, I think she's for real. You've seen how these people behave, and you have to admit, there's something there." "But sacrifice, Mulder? Come on." "The Summer solstice was traditionally a day of rituals," he told her with an infuriating smile. "What happened about the sample I gave you?" "It was the same stuff," Scully admitted begrudgingly. "Well, there you go. At least come and take a look," he pleaded. "How, Mulder?" Scully protested. "There's no way they'd let you in now." "We can sneak in tonight. If we can get over the top of one of those buildings, there's a tiny flat bit in the middle." "Mulder," she said dryly, "The sun doesn't shine at night." "No. It rises at dawn. And we'll be ready." Only the moonlight illuminated the dark figure hauling himself up the roof of the museum. Mulder grunted slightly and finally managed to get his body over the top and narrowly avoided hurtling to his death on the ground below when he realized that the roof sloped downwards just as steeply on the other side. Once he had recovered his breath, his thoughts turned to Scully, below him. "Scully!" The urgent whisper carried through the still air, until the familiar head appeared above the tiles. "Mulder," she murmured quietly, "I don't know why I-" "Sssssh!! You heard what Becky said." Begrudgingly, she settled for a glare instead, as he helped her over the top, and they slipped carefully down to the parapet on the other side, before dropping down to the ground. The window was shut. "Nice one, Mulder. If we smash it, we'll wake the whole town up, and if we don't, we'll be stranded here until tomorrow morning when they'll find us anyway. I hope. Why, oh why do I... Mulder?" Mulder was no longer listening to Scully's tirade: he had instead turned his back to her and was fiddling with the window, pulling something out of his pocket, and then pulling it carefully ajar. He turned and grinned at Scully. "I opened it when I was here earlier but it fell shut again. Obviously someone forgot to check." He placed first his leg, and then his head through the narrow opening, slowly inching his way through. "Ow!" "Mulder, be careful," Scully warned immediately. "You're not Eugene Tooms, you know." "Ha ha," he said sarcastically. There was a pause. "Uh, Scully..." "What?" she responded warily. "Um... I think I'm stuck." Another short silence. Mulder wished he could see the expression on Scully's face. Probably she's taking a deep breath and counting to ten, he thought with amusement. He felt her hand on his shoulder, as she tried to gently push him through. "Yow - Scully!" "Mulder, I am doing my best!" she hissed angrily. There was a few more subdued moans and groans and the occasional muffled swearword but suddenly Mulder's shoulders slid through the window and he was able to clamber down into the room. "You'd better come head first," he cautioned his partner. Scully did so, and came tumbling through, landing in a disheveled heap at Mulder's feat. The look she gave him hastily suppressed his chuckle. When she had got up and dusted herself down, she asked "So now what?" "We just wait, I guess. It can't be long till dawn, the amount of time we've wasted." They settled down in one corner of the room and rested. And rested. Contrary to Mulder's estimate, it was several hours before the first rays of light began to appear. Eventually, there was enough light that they could see each other again, and Mulder helped her to her feet. Sure enough, the table was just beginning to ooze it's droplets of blood, and Scully watched with interest as the hollow slowly filled up. "See?" Mulder said. "I still think it's something in the rocks," Scully persisted stubbornly, but she didn't sound convinced. Finally, Mulder decided it was time to leave before they opened up, and led Scully towards the single door exiting the room... ...straight into the crowd of townspeople waiting for them in the next room. The people were spread in a circle around the doorway, their faces blank and emotionless. At their head was the sheriff wielding the knife from the display case, and smiling triumphantly, his eyes cold and glittering. "Well, Agents, what a pleasant surprise. Males are no use for sacrifice so we'll have to find some other way of disposing of you..." He gestured towards Mulder with the knife. "...but Agent Scully here will do nicely." He turned to the mob. "Get them." Before either Mulder or Scully could move, they were swept apart by the crowd and Mulder found himself pushed to the side and pinned against the wall by several of the larger, stronger men. He struggled in vain as Scully was lifted bodily onto the table, she too fighting and wriggling but unable to escape from the huge numbers of people swarming about her. Scully's eyes focused again. The sheriff was looming over her, his right hand raised ready to plunge the knife deep into her body. To kill her. A chilling wave of terror ran through her body. Now she was scared, really scared. Dana Scully opened her mouth and screamed. Mulder heard Scully's cry and redoubled his efforts but to no avail. Even if he could fight his way free of the men , there was no way he could muscle through the mob of people between him and the table. Over the heads of the throng, he saw the flash of steel as the sheriff's arm thrust downwards. "Scully!! No!!" Suddenly three sharp shots rang through the air causing a sudden startled silence. The sheriff had gone down, the dark red stain already spreading slowly across his back. Talk about blood from a stone, a detached part of Mulder's mind thought ironically. Mulder fought his way easily through the bewildered crowd and rolled the sheriff's body roughly away to reach his partner. "Scully?" Five days later, Greenfield General Hospital The small bunch of flowers appeared around the edge of the door and jiggled up and down. Scully laughed. "Come in, Mulder." "Hey, Scully. How're you feeling?" Mulder entered slightly nervously; it was the first time he had visited his partner since she had regained consciousness. Now he could see that she was still quite pale but at least she was smiling again. "Ok." "What did the doctor say?" he enquired, coming and sitting on the edge of her bed. Although the sheriff had been killed before he could properly stab her, he was a heavyset man and the knife had still caused quite a serious wound, which, coupled with shock, meant that Scully had had a bit of a close call. "They think everything's all right but I have to take it easy for a few weeks and get it checked back in DC." "Well, at least you're still alive." There was a short grim silence as both of them contemplated her brush with death. Finally, Scully spoke again. "Sorry to leave you all that mess to clear up." "That's ok," he told her with a grin. "I s'pose you want to know what happened, then." She nodded. "It was Becky. I didn't tell you this before but when I went to see someone about finding those corpses, it was an old friend of mine, Sue. She's a psychic and I've known from several previous cases, when she's been brought in once or twice by the FBI. Anyway, Becky knows her as well, and when she saw her in the hospital she guessed we were working together and so last night she got Sue who contacted the local field office and, as it happens, they were just in time." Scully swallowed nervously. "What about all those people?" He sighed. "Well, after the sheriff fell - he's dead, by the way - they were all pretty confused. As far as anyone knows, there's never been a case quite like this before. The FBI and social services are organizing mass counselling for everyone who was involved and they've destroyed the table and everything else. Still can't explain the blood, though." "If it was blood," she put in. "Scully, you said it yourself. It was blood. Though I guess it's not really worth worrying about it now." "No." The nurse clad in a starched white uniform poked her head around the doorway. "Sorry, Mr. Mulder, but your time is up. Miss Scully must have some rest." "Ok." Mulder obliged and left, pausing in the doorway to say "See you tomorrow, Scully." End
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