Haunted House(1/4)
by Analise


Category:S,X, MSR

Rating: PG-13

email:analise@2cowherd.net

Disclaimer:These characters are the property of Fox and 1013. No
disrespect intended.

Note: In the Halloween spirit...a Halloween tale.

'''''''''

It was coming down in continuous surging sheets, as if there were men
stage left whose only job was to throw barrelfuls of water at the car.
She could just picture them, working in tandem..making sure that there
was no respite..no gap through which she might actually be able to
make out the road that she hoped was still beneath the car.

The storm had come out of nowhere, just when she had started to think 
that she was making pretty good time..tired as she was.

A glimpse, a sparkle of reflected light on yellow...the center line.
And then it was gone again, washed away, washed back into the gray,
watery darkness of the storm...leaving her to peer furtively through
the sweeping wipers, anxious for another flash.

"Find somewhere to pull over.." he said, his voice startling her. She
had thought him asleep, certainly he was tired enough from three
straight days awake with perhaps only 4 or so hours of catnapping
under his belt. She felt no sympathy..only an unfair resentment that
he'd slept while all the muscles in her neck were bunching up in
tension.

"I wish I'd thought of that. Thanks Mulder, what a relief it is to
have you around." she said, her voice tight with tension as she fought
yet again to keep the car from hydroplaning off the road into the
formless dark beyond the pavement.

"Where are we?" he blithely ignored the sarcasm , sitting up and
reaching down to dig through the glove compartment of the rental. The
tiny light of the small nook lit the planes of his face, displaying a
weariness that made her regret her sharp words.

"I don't know. We've been driving for hours now and its entirely
likely that I've missed the sign for Rte 98. I can barely see anything
in this .." she unclasped one hand from it's place on the wheel to
gesture out the window. "I would have pulled over, but I can't see the
shoulder..and I really don't want to get stuck in the mud."

Peering out the side window, he caught a quick eyeful of a ditch
rushing with night-black waters.

"Good call" he said, then bent back to the AAA Guide To Indiana,
tilting it to see the tiny writing in the light of the glove box.

There were a few more moments of silence in the car while Scully
steered them onward through what had to be the next Great Flood.
Suddenly she hit the brakes, sending the car into a squealing fishtail
on the soaked asphalt. Mulder braced his hands on the dash, the AAA
book falling from his hands...and then they were stopped. The rain
pounded down on the roof of the car like continuous thunder, the
squeak of the windshield wipers beat out a rhythm in the loud silence
and the headlights shone upon a ..mailbox.

++++

"You have got to be kidding me." Scully said, looking up at the
massive double doors they stood in front of, trying to curtail the
violent shudders that were wracking her slender frame. Her suit was
soaked through, her hair plastered to her scalp, mud forming soggy
squelching boots over her pumps up to her ankles. Mulder fared little
better, although she was certain that when it came to looking like a
drowned rat, he pulled it off better than she did. At least he didn't
have mascara forming dark circles under his eyes.

The Oldsmobile had been unable to make it all the way up the drive
before getting stuck in the mud. Opting to make a run for it, Mulder
had pulled their only umbrella out and they'd crouched under it's thin
ineffectual shelter as they ran up the road.

One thing to remember, she thought wryly as she wrung water out of her
hair, umbrellas really don't work that well when the rain is falling
sideways. 

Now they stood on a dilapidated covered porch staring at boarded up
windows and  weathered, be-cobwebed wood siding. The door knocker was
an enormous brass gargoyle's head.

Lightning exposed the wide, rolling  empty hills in a brilliant strobe
flash. An instant later, thunder shook the house, rattling the
shutters.

"If a guy with a black cape opens that door, I take my chances in the
rain." Mulder said reaching up to struggle with the knocker. Scully
shook her head and walked to the edge of the porch..pulling her cell
phone out of her inside pocket. Staring out at the rain, she flinched
as a horrific concussion of thunder suddenly boomed directly 
overhead. Lightning sizzled out of the sky and struck a telephone 
pole not 100 yards away in a shower of sparks and flame.

Jesus. She tucked her phone back into her coat..there was no way her
cell phone was working in this. Ozone and electricity hung in the air
like the reek of bad perfume. Another crash, less earsplitting but
just as echoing from behind her alerted her that Mulder had
successfully lifted the door knocker.

"It doesn't look like anyone lives here.." she said, coming to his
side, using his tall frame as a wind shield of sorts.

After a long silent moment in which the only sounds were the pounding
of the rain and the howling of the wind, Mulder managed to lift the
knocker for a second time. Both of them heard it echoing through the
house even with the din of the downpour at their backs.

Another span of time passed. Scully shivered,tucking her cold fingers
under her arms and wishing she had not left her overcoat in the trunk.
A minute more. She felt a heavy, wet warmth settle over her shoulders
as Mulder draped his coat on her. Soaked as it was, it cut the wind
and it smelled comfortingly of her partner. She huddled into it and
let her eyes thank him.

"Maybe I should go around back and see if I can find a way in.."
Mulder mused,turning and staring almost thoughtfully at the sheeting
rain as if determining if it was possible to run between the drops. 

The door chose that moment to creak open.

Both agents exchanged glances, Mulder's lips half-parted as if on the
verge of making a wry comment...and then a bony hand curled around the
door and pulled it inwards. They found themselves facing a tall,
impossibly skinny woman with a sharp creased face..grey hair pulled
tightly back away from her temples. She held a candelabra in her reedy
fingers and a black dress with a white starched collar draped her whip
thin body.

A candelabra. A black dress. Scully dared not look at Mulder..knowing
his face would be priceless.

"What do you want?" The voice was reedy and sharp.

"We've been caught in the storm and we got stuck on your driveway. Is
there any way we can stay here for the night? We'd be glad to pay
you." he said, turning on the Fox Mulder charm..such as it was.

Scully didn't think this particular woman was going to be melting
under that mossy green gaze.

The woman's lips thinned further...any more and they would disappear.

"Absolutely not." and she shut the door in their faces.

The pair exchanged astonished glances. Another crash of thunder split
the night in half. Mulder raised an eyebrow at Scully's renewed
shivering and lifted the knocker for another crack at the door. This
time, the ghoulish woman was a bit quicker about opening the massive
portal.

"I said no-" she was cut off by Mulder's FBI  badge shoved into her
face.

"I'm sorry mam', can we try that again? My partner and I.." Scully
took her cue to flash her own ID, "got stuck in the mud, and we'd love
a place to stay tonight. We won't be any trouble, I assure you."

The woman stared at the badge for a long time. Scully felt the added
wetness of Mulder's overcoat starting to seep down through her already
wet suit. Suddenly the woman withdrew into the house like a fading
specter, leaving the door open this time.

Another set of exchanged glances and they were gratefully stepping in
out of the wind.

Or maybe not so gratefully, Scully thought as soon as the door boomed
shut behind them. 

They stood in an enormous foyer. Set back in the room, a massive 
staircase climbed up into the darkness of the second floor, the 
banister covered with thick cobwebs. Hanging from the 50 foot 
ceiling, a monstrously ugly chandelier hovered like a filthy UFO, 
dust and webs trailing off of it in streamers. To the left of the 
stair she caught a glimpse of furniture covered with white 
sheets..hallways gaped like black maws here and there and imperious 
oil paintings hung on the wainscoted walls, crowding the room with 
their dusty gazes.

Clean much? 

The woman spun on them, fixing them with an unreadable glance. Was
that fear or hate she thought she saw lurking in those black eyes?

"I'll be blunt. I don't want you here. I like my privacy. As soon as
it's light I want you gone."

That said, she turned and seemed to float up the staircase, the
candelabra leaving trailing streamers of light and smoke in the
darkness. She found herself walking behind Mulder as they climbed up
the stairs, irrationally feeling the eyes of all the paintings
following them as they moved into the murk of the second floor.

The hallway was long...long with at least 4 doors on each side and one
at the end. The candelabra stopped at the third door on the right. The
portal creaked and moaned like a dying animal as the unnamed woman
pushed inside. Another wordless communication passed between her and
her partner and it was agreed that she would take this room. She
dropped her bag on the floor gratefully. The woman stared at her for a
long moment and then turned, leading Mulder out.

"The bathroom is at the end of the hall. Remember what I said. Stay in
your rooms."

"Thank you..." she paused, waiting.

"My name is Mrs. Hallery." The voice was flat.

"Thank you Mrs. Hallery. We won't be any trouble." Scully said coolly.

She received a long look that had that same flavoring of fear/hate in 
it as before..like a lacing of oil on top of water. She bent the 
candelabra toward a slender wick on the table by the door, leaving 
Dana light.

And then she was gone, Mulder wiggling his eyebrows at her behind the
woman's back as he followed her. She stifled a chuckle and gratefully
kicked her muddy shoes off, looking around her room.

This place was not for real. She grinned.

The center of the room was dominated by an enormous four poster bed,
the comforter glowing with an unhealthy blood red that seemed to
glisten in the candlelight. The heavy drapes were the same deep red
and she walked over to them to peer out. She was afforded a view of
boarded up windows. Outside, thunder boomed again, shaking the boards.
It reminded her to be grateful she wasn't sleeping in the Oldsmobile.

Dark mahogany furniture graced the large room and she threw her soaked
coat onto a gruesome chaise done up in the same red velvet. A mirror,
thickly coated with dust reflected her pale skin as she peeled out of
her wet clothes, quickly pulling on a dry sweatshirt and boxers.
Taking up her bathroom bag and juggling the candle that Mrs. Hallery
had left by the door, she padded down the cold floorboards towards the
bathroom, pausing in the open doorway of Mulder's bedroom to marvel at
the decor there.

Same heavy, dark furniture, only his was a deep emerald green. Lovely.
But definitely better than red.

He was facing away from her, his hands on his hips in his customary
posture as he surveyed his room much in the same manner as she had. He
seemed to feel her eyes on him and he turned to look at her, smiling
crookedly.

"You know Scully..if we meet up with a mysterious old caretaker.."

She laughed softly.

"At least we're dry. I'm sure this place will look a little less like
a stereotype in the morning. Hopefully the rain will have stopped by
then and we can get out of here."

He came towards her, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Does this house give you the 'creeps' Scully?" he asked, standing in
front of her and sliding his hands up her arms, rubbing gently through
the worn sweatshirt. 

She smiled and nodded languidly, enjoying the fiery thrill his touch
always brought her...sparking a heavy warmth in her belly.

"I don't think I should sleep alone tonight." she murmured
matter-of-factly, looking up into his handsome face. "Who knows what
sort of ghosts inhabit this house?"

His arms slid around her and she pressed her face into his throat.

"Probably the kind with chains." he said, his voice rumbling under her
cheek.

"What's with that, anyway?" she asked, leaning back to look into his
hazel eyes, mischief glittering in her own. "Why do ghosts always
wander around with chains on? What about the expression, 'quiet as a
ghost'?"

He grinned down at her, his hands coming up between them to loosen the
travel-stained tie he wore. 

"I think it stems from 'A Christmas Carol'." he said. "Remember, the
first ghost that visited him was dragging chains..chains of the past,
I think it was." After his tie hung loose, he let his hands smooth her
silky red hair back from her face. "Besides, I think the expression is
'quiet as a mouse'"

"Picky" she pursed her lips, turning away from him. "I'll be back." 

"Good luck." he called after her. "If you hear any voices telling you
to "geeettt owwwwwtt", let me know." 

"The voice better be accompanied by the house falling down, because
that's the only thing getting me back out into that storm." she
smirked over her shoulder.

Scully made her way to the door at the end of the hall, taking care
not to let the candle blow out in the chilly, drafty hall. There were
some very real advantages to sleeping with your partner, she thought.
One being that she would most certainly not be cold tonight.

She pushed open the door into the surprisingly large bathroom. Shadows
danced and leaped around her as the candle flittered and twisted in
the draft, but she could see a huge claw-footed bathtub in the corner,
gilt glittering in the flickering light off the fixtures. Intricate
mosaic tile-work pulsed in patterns around her as she set her things
on the counter next to the sink. She bent down to turn on the faucet.
Nothing happened. 

Then a rattle. Pipes groaned and protested in rusty appeals and then a
thin trickle of water burbled out of the faucet. She cupped her hands
under the stream and splashed it onto her cheeks, washing the remains
of her makeup off. Her hair was starting to dry in long scraggly
strands around her oval face and since a shower was not an option, she
ran her hairbrush through the red strands until they gleamed in the
candlelight. Pulling her toothbrush out she leaned back over the sink
to wet the bristles and froze.

Blood was coming out of the faucet.

She stared at it for a long moment, her mouth twitching. Leaning
closer to it, she ran a finger through the thick stream and brought
the red finger up to her face, bringing the candle closer. A sniff.

Definitely blood then. It was warm...it would have to be to run
through the pipes like that. She glanced around momentarily, looking
for something to take a sample with. After a moment's debate between
dismissal and curiosity, she pulled the lid off one of her eyeshadow
cases and scooped the blood into it. A second later the water ran pink
and then clear again. 

She eyed it warily for a moment and then, shrugging, she finished
brushing her teeth. 

Mulder was peeking behind the large dusty bookshelf in his green
bedroom when she walked in. His shirt hung unbuttoned from his
shoulders, his legs bare but for his boxers and his socks.

"What are you looking for?" she asked nonchalantly, carrying the small
blood sample in one hand, the candle in the other.

His head pulled out of the cramped space, cobwebs hanging from his
dark hair.

"You won't believe this, but I think I hear moaning behind the wall."
his eyes were alight with amusement.

"Yeah? I think I've got one better on you." she said, placing the
small plastic container on the dresser and putting her hands on her
hips. "The faucet was running blood." 

"Really?" He was like a kid in a candy store. She couldn't refrain
from grinning.

"Its all too true. I think we've slipped somewhere and fallen into a
bad episode of Hart To Hart." She set her candle by the head of the
bed and clambered into the center of the hideous green
velvet...stretching out on her stomach and propping her chin into her
hands, watching the quivering light play on the hard planes of his 
chest and belly.

"I bet this place is just full of secret passageways and dumbwaiters
and spyholes cut into the eyes of the paintings.." he abandoned his
search for the source of the aforementioned moaning and moved back
across the room to where she sprawled on the bed.

"I refuse to let you go tiptoeing through the house with a
candle." She grinned at him.

"Oh?" he said, admiring the flickering red highlights the candle
flame brought out in her hair. He sat on the bed, his weight making
the mattress dip towards him. She slid down the incline into him,
looking up into the shadows of his face. "Don't tell me you're afraid 
of Mrs. Hallery?" he asked in mock astonishment.

"Nope. I'll just hide behind you when she comes after us
with an axe." She said, reaching an idle hand up to run her thumb 
over his irresistable lower lip..signalling an end to the 
conversation.

He leaned down to enfold her lips with his, and in the silence between
them... the sound of chains dragging across the floor upstairs
intruded.

Both pairs of eyes drifted upwards, their lips falling away from each
other like dead petals on a flower. 

"Please tell me you hear that too..." Mulder's voice was soft and full
of hidden anticipation as it tickled her lips.

"I hear it too." she said. They were silent for a long moment more as
the chains seemed to move from one end of the ceiling to the other.
Then they stopped as suddenly as they'd started.

"I'm dying here, Scully." he said, not taking his eyes from the
ceiling.

She sighed.

"Lets go have a look then." 

'''''''''

They'd hunted through the dank house for several long minutes before 
they found anything other than empty rooms.

"This one's open.." Scully said, her voice soft. She pushed at the old
brittle wood and the portal swung open with a squeal of rusty hinges.

"No staircase here.." Mulder muttered behind her. The room was one of
the few without boarded up windows and a very faint light streamed
through the glass, the pounding of the rain a constant noise against
the panes. 

"What is this?" Scully asked, her eyebrows raising as she lifted the
candle higher, stepping into the center of the small chamber.

It appeared to be an old study. Photographs hung on the wall in
antique frames and sheets thick with dust covered the furniture.
Mulder was already moving past her, aiming for the largest of sheets
in the corner. Scully made to open her mouth to stop him, but realized
the futility of it before the words escaped.

He lifted the sheet up and set his candle down on the top of the desk.

"Look at this stuff Scully." he said, his voice eager. "It's got to be
 100 years old."

Her curiosity overrode her distaste for his snooping and she moved to
his side to peer at what he was holding.

An old-fashioned newspaper topped the small pile of yellowed papers
that was dated August 17th 1931. It was so fragile it was crumpling in
her partners hands. Underneath it they could see several other papers
that looked to be just as old..deeds and old, old survey maps. 

"Huh..the 17th was just a few days ago.." she remarked.

"Coincidence? I think not.." his brows waggled at her and she smiled.
"Seems like this stuff should be in a museum.." he murmured, setting
the paper back down.

"It's not *that* old Mulder.." she said as she peered more closely 
at the paperwork, trying to make out the tiny type. You practically 
had to have a magnifying glass to read this stuff. It was a wonder 
that people back then didn't all go blind just from reading their 
papers.

"Some sort of railroad documents.." she said thoughtfully. "Looks like
survey plans for a new line that was to come through here."

She was interrupted by a faint sighing moan that seemed to roll
through the room. It was followed closely by a distant dragging chain.

She let her eyes slide to her partner to see him grinning eagerly at
her.

"Come on Scully..let's find the upstairs.." he urged her. She set the
paper down and re-covered the desk, hurrying to follow him with a
sigh.

It took them a while to find the narrow stairway that led up to the
attic, the fluttering light of a candle was no match for their usual
halogen torches. Finally, Scully tried the right door, and it swung
open with a terrible squeal to reveal a dank, twisted stairwell that
led up into blackness. Cobwebs hung thickly from the walls and she
silently let Mulder precede her. She wasn't about to wander through
who knew how many spiders.

They emerged into a huge open attic. Boxes and boxes of stuff 
cluttered the floor and walls. Outside a massive circular window that 
dominated the east wall, a huge, gnarled, dead oak clawed and 
scratched at the glass with black fingers.

"The sound came from directly over our room.." Mulder said softly,
moving quietly along the filthy floorboards. Dana crouched down to
peer at the wood, noting the total absence of footprints or scuff
marks in the dust.

"Anything?" she asked a moment later, looking up towards the direction
her partner had gone.

He wasn't there.

Frowning, she pushed back to her feet and walked further into the
gloom of the attic.

"Mulder?" she called. 

No response. She sighed. "Damnit, it's late and I'm not in the mood
for jokes." Still nothing.

She felt the small of her back where she'd tucked her Sig. into the
waistband of her boxers, feeling the reassuring touch of the
skin-warmed metal against her palm. She brought the gun out and held
it loosely at her side, advancing further into the space, holding the
candle high.

She could see her partner's footprints clearly in the dust..and then
they just vanished. She crouched down, running her fingers over the
floorboards. She pressed down with her palm and she heard a -snick- of
sound. Then a piece of floor swung soundlessly down into
darkness. She caught it before it swung back into place, jamming it
open with her gun.

"Mulder?" she called. "Are you ok?" She heard a faint groan from the
darkness and a wry grin lifted the side of her mouth. She knew that
groan...he wasn't hurt...bad. "Should I come down there?" she asked.

There was a moment of silence and then ..

"Jeez Scully, you gotta see this."

She sighed. How had she known he would say that? 

Leaning down into the hole with the candle, she tried to make out how
far it was. Perhaps 12 feet down, the pale shadow of her partner's
face peered up at her. 

"Can you reach the candle?" she asked, stretching the small light
source down to him as far as she could go. It wasn't even close. 

"Hold on.." he called. She heard a scraping, grinding sound and then,
suddenly, the top of a ladder thunked against the side of the opening.

A moment later she was standing next to Mulder in a narrow, cramped
passage.

"What did I tell you about the secret passageways, Scully?" She could
almost feel his grin in the dark. She nodded, twisting her lips in


thought as she looked around.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"What are we doing down here? I'm tired..it's got to be around
midnight."

He was silent for a long moment.

"Lets just see where this comes out." he said. "Aren't you a little
interested in that?"

She was curious...but she was also exhausted. Still, there was no
denying Mulder in this mood...and there was something almost
'funhouse' about this whole thing.

"Ok..but if Mrs. Hallery catches us in here, I'm telling her it was
your idea."

His soft chuckle drifted back over his shoulder as he led the way down
the passage, the candle creating huge leaping shadows on the walls.

They'd walked for about five minutes when Mulder made a little noise 
of something she could only describe as glee. He was working 
something on the wall and to Scully's amazement, he slid aside a 
piece of wood to reveal two eyeholes.

"Wanna bet these are cut into one of those paintings?" he grinned,
peering out. "Look Scully, it's your room."

"What?" she asked, her voice rising, her brows lowering. She'd
stripped naked in that room not too long ago. Taking the candle, she
squatted to look in the dirt at Mulder's feet. There. A large
bootprint. Mulder was looking at it too, and for the first time since
they'd entered this ludicrous house, he frowned.

"There's someone else here. Mrs. Hallery never mentioned a Mr.
Hallery, did she?" he asked.

"Maybe it's that mysterious old caretaker you were talking about
before." she offered. 

"I think I'll have a few questions for our gracious hostess in the
morning." he grumbled. She only raised her eyebrows with a little
smile at his obvious irritation over her lost privacy. 

He turned and led the way onwards...down a narrow stair they had to
turn sideways on to traverse. And then it dead-ended.

"I've watched Scooby Doo..there should be lever around here
somewhere.." he muttered, running his hands up and down the splintered
wood. She sighed and leaned up against the wall...and fell right
through.

"Scully?!" 

She looked up at him from where she lay on the floor of another room.
The wall had swung open under her weight. 

"I'm ok.." she grumbled, after she got her wind back. He knelt down on
the floor and helped her sit up. The wall swung closed behind them
soundlessly. "Where are we?"

"The kitchen pantry, I think.." he said, holding the candle up and
trying to light the room. Now that they were out of the passage, they
could hear the fury of the storm that was still raging
outside..beating against the side of the house. He helped her to her
feet and they looked back at the wall she had tumbled through. It was
a pantry shelf..completely stocked with jars and bottles and cans.

"Mulder..please.." he was engrossed in finding the switch to make the
wall swing out again. She let out a huff of breath and turned, walking
out into the kitchen..and right into a ghost.

It stood directly in front of her...corpse pale, the half rotted
skeletal figure was hazy, long bony fingers clenched and
unclenched at it's sides and red baleful eyes seemed to glitter at
her.

She couldn't help it. She screamed. Rationalizing her annoying
reaction later, she determined the scream came about because she was
simply tired and startled. The thing vanished.

Mulder came charging out of the pantry, gun in hand, only to skid into
her..glancing wildly around with the guttering candle splashing wax
onto his hand.

"What? What did you see?" he asked, a little breathless.

"I...I don't know." she said, a little put out that she would have to
tell him she'd seen a ghost. Wasn't this usually his position?
"Something...." She glanced around the shadowed kitchen for explaining
factors. " More likely I was tired and it was a trick of the light." 

Lightning chose that moment to flash blindingly through the un-boarded
windows of the kitchen, and a door smashed open from the outside
bringing a howling blast of wind and water with its motion. A large
shadowed figure in a hooded rain slicker stood squared off in the
opening, a shuttered lantern in one fist.

The pair stood staring speechless at the apparition and Mulder slowly
lifted the gun he still held and pointed it at the silhouette.

The figure turned and secured the door behind it, cutting off the cold
wet intrusion into the kitchen. The light of Mulder's candle stopped
fluttering wildly and they were able to see the figure had a human
face. A gray beard dripping with water took up most of the man's
features, but they could see small beady eyes peeking out from under
bushy eyebrows.

"Who the hell are 'you'?" asked Mulder, his eyes tracking down to the
man's booted feet and then raking back up again to rest on a haggard
face made moreso in the candlelight.

"I should be askin' you that question stranger. This is my kitchen."
The man's voice was scratchy and worn like an old record.

"Are you...Mr. Hallery?" Mulder was frowning.

The man seemed to hesitate, his eyes flickering back and forth
in..fear?

"No...my name's Boyden Kride. I'm the caretaker of this place."

The mysterious caretaker. Scully had to choke back a laugh. It ended
up sounding like a cough. She could see Mulder's jaw tightening in an
attempt not to join her.

"So Mrs. Hallery invited you in?" his voice sounded suspicious.

"Ummm..uh hem..yeah. We talked to her. She said we could stay the
night and leave in the morning."

He grunted.

"I'm surprised. She shouldn't be lettin' anyone stay here. It's
dangerous. It's dangerous for her too, but she's a stubborn old battle
axe."

"We had to persuade her." Mulder said, straightening up and tucking
his gun back into his pants. He was wearing his running sweatshirt and
jeans..and like her they were both in socks. She could see the old man
staring at the gun. Hmmph, let him wonder. 

He'd better not have been the one peeping at her, or he'd get a chance
to see her gun too. 

"Why is it dangerous?" Scully asked, folding her arms and quirking an
eyebrow.

"The ghost. Haven't you seen it?" his voice had dipped to a hush.
Mulder glanced at her and she let her mouth curl up, her eyelids
hooding. 

"I saw 'something'..I'm not prepared to state that it was a ghost."
she said.

"And then there's other things...odd things..this house is tainted by
a dark spirit." he said, his voice almost a whisper. 

She half-expected him to turn on a flashlight under his chin.

Mulder looked like he could hardly contain himself. Scully refrained
from rolling her eyes. If only this old guy knew who he was talking
to. 

"What kind of a dark spirit?" Mulder asked. 

She gave an internal sigh.

"Mulder...I'm going back to bed. Good night Mr. Kride." she turned and
left without another word. Let Mulder talk shop all he wanted with the
old creep..she needed some sleep.

It was dark without a candle to light the way, but she made her way
back to Mulder's room easily and without apparitional incident.
Lighting another candle, she took a moment to drape the trailing end
of the heavy curtain over the lone portrait overlooking the bed. She
didn't know if it was a peeping painting or not, but it was worth the
precaution.

Satisfied, she slipped out of her clothes and crawled under the dusty
green velvet of the enormous bed, gratefully sinking into the
pillows...not caring that they smelled of must.  

She was just drifting off to sleep when the creak of the door
announced Mulder's return to the room. A faint smile crossed her face
as the bed dipped and he slid under the covers with her, gathering her
warm body up against his chilled one. They had been lovers long enough
that the bed felt empty and vast without him. She felt his breath on
the back of her neck as he placed a kiss against the soft skin behind
her ear.

"Was your conversation with the 'caretaker' revealing?" she murmured
sleepily.

His affirmative rumbled into her neck, tickling the hairs on her nape.

"Apparently Mrs. Hallery has lived in these parts for years. Her 
husband has died recently and she is trying to determine if she wants 
to sell the house or not. Mr. Kride was not very enlightening about 
much else. All he was clear on was that this house is haunted and 
that the 'dark spirit' that walks the halls at night is dangerous. He 
thinks we should leave as soon as possible."

"And did you tell him that we weren't planning on making this our 
vacation hideaway?" she asked, her voice soft with sleep and humor, 
her eyes closed. 

He chuckled, his arms tightening around her in appreciation of her
wit.

"I did. He just told us to 'beware the dark spirit'" Mulder's voice 
rose in an appropriately 'spooky' tone as he quoted the old man.

"And you think that's what I saw in the kitchen..don't you?" she 
yawned, languidly turning her body into his, wrapping her arms around 
his waist and tucking her head under his chin.

He let his hands come up around her back to rub her spine gently, his
fingers moving in small stroking circles. 

"That would be my guess...if I were to make such an assumption. But
I'm not convinced that any of this is for real." he said.

That woke her up.

"What? Are you feeling ok?" she asked, putting one hand on his
forehead. He grinned at her, nuzzling his cheek against her palm.

"Scully, I may be a believer compared to you, but I'm not entirely
gullible. Doesn't this whole set up seem like...well, a set up? I feel
like we've dropped into a cliche...and except for the encounter you 
question, we have yet to find anything that points to real ghosts."

She tilted her chin up to give him an appraising look.

"Well, well...the sky must be falling..Fox Mulder wants proof for
something." she said, one side of her mouth quirked. 

"Miracles can happen..." he paused as a particularly strong gust of
wind rattled the shutters. The candle was still lit, she took note,
casting a warm glow on the bed and creating a flickering aura around
her partner's dark head. From here, tucked in Mulder's arms..warm
under the covers, the room seemed a lot less overwhelmingly ugly. 

"So we're in a haunted house." Scully said, resting her lips on the
hollow of his throat and closing her eyes. "We've met the old woman,
we've been startled by the caretaker...we've had a few visitations and
the faucet dripped blood. We've explored the attic and the secret
passageways...what's left?"

"A murder?" Mulder offered. "Professor Plum did it in the kitchen with
a candlestick."

She laughed into his chest, letting her hands slide down the heated
silk of his back to lightly cup his buttocks. A tiny tremor rippled
through his body and she gloried in the small power she held over his
reactions even as she curled slender fingers between his lean thighs.
His breath left him in a soft rush and suddenly he was rolling, over
her, on top of her...trapping her under him, dragging her arms up and
away and over her head. 

He grinned down at her, his mossy eyes gone dark as a moonlit forest
pool, the candle flame dancing and sparkling in the limpid black
centers. 

"I thought you were tired.." he teased, his voice low and soft. She
could feel the hard weight of his body pressing into the piloting
softness of hers, the evidence of his intentions imprinting it's heat
on her stomach. She wiggled deliberately beneath him, smiling up into
his face.

"All this talk of you wanting proof to believe in something has
startled me fully awake..." 

"I'll give you something to startle you.." his voice was a low growl
as he lowered his mouth to her breasts.

As they began to move together, neither of them noticed the tiny
movement across the room as a book on the dusty shelf slowly moved
aside and the bedside candle glittered in the depths of a watching
eye.

++++++

It was a man's scream that woke her. She sat straight up, her hand
reaching automatically for the bedside table where she kept her gun at
home. Only she wasn't home, and there was no gun on the table. 

The scream had barely died out before the pair had disentangled
themselves from the twisted sheets, diving for discarded clothing in
the dark. Mulder banged his shin on the bedpost and his muffled curse
was interrupted by the scratch of a match being lit. Scully set the
newly relit candle on the dresser, filling the room with enough light
to see by.

He smiled wryly at her as he pulled his jeans up and buttoned them.
She'd already managed to pull her sweatshirt over her head.

"Screams in the night wasn't on your list. How could you have
forgotten that?"

"No one's perfect, not even me.." she paused as she pulled on socks.
"Could you tell where it came from?" she asked as they shoved feet
into shoes and tucked guns into waistbands.

"Downstairs?" he said uncertainly. A peal of thunder shook the walls,
reminding them that it was still storming outside. It couldn't have
been more than a few hours since they'd drifted to sleep, judging by
what she could see of her watch. Maybe 2 or so in the morning?

She followed Mulder's tall frame as he pushed open their door and
peeked into the hallway. A glance at her over his shoulder told her
that it was clear. They stepped out onto the creaking floorboards,
moving towards the stairs. A faint light seemed to be drifting
upwards. Scully frowned, trying to clear the last of sleep's cobwebs
from her mind. 

Moving behind her partner a few steps behind, falling into the old
pattern of keeping single file to minimize themselves as a target,
they approached the head of the staircase and stopped to scan the
gloom of the foyer below.

A shadow moved, a flicker of light.

Mulder looked at her again, sending his intentions to her with
silent words. She nodded and they moved down the stairs, peering into
the shadows that leaped and pooled along the floor. 

At the base of the stairs, Mulder froze and she nearly walked into
him. Peeking around him, she saw what he was looking at. There it was
again. The same apparition she had run into in the kitchen. It stood
in the same position, bony hands clenching and unclenching at it's
sides, baleful red eyes glowering at them from under a white bone
brow. 

She cocked her head to one side, staring at the thing intently. It
didn't seem to be moving towards them. In fact...it seemed to be
..flickering.

And then it vanished.

She felt her partner's eyes on her and she looked up at him,
nodding..knowing what he was asking.

"Yeah. That's what I saw." she muttered. "Something fishy about it.."

"You mean besides the fact that it appeared and disappeared in front 
of our eyes?" he mocked gently. She was shaking her head.

"No..something else. Something familiar." She frowned suddenly, her
eyes narrowing as she stared across the room. "What's that?" She put a
hand on her partner's arm, and he slowly raised his gun.

"Don't shoot.."

The man's raspy voice floated out of the inky black against the far
wall and she was not surprised to see Mr. Kride step out into the
flickering light of their candles. Was the man a perpetual lurker?

"What are you doing down here, Mr. Kride?" Mulder's voice sounded as
suspicious as she felt.

The man's voice was quavering with fear.

"I..I was walking through the house, checking to see that the storm
wasn't comin' in..and I saw *it*."

Scully rolled her eyes and folded her arms, leaning against the end of
the balustrade. Here we go again.

"You saw the ghost?" Mulder asked, stepping forward, his gun dropping
back to his side.

"Oh, yes sir. I saw it plain as day. This house is a terrible
place...haunted."

Irregardless of her own thoughts on the matter, her curiosity was
piqued and she would bet one shiny new nickel that Mulder's was too. 

"You see this ghost often?" Mulder asked, she could hear *something*
in his voice that made her wonder if seeing the apparition had made
him a believer in the "hauntedness" of the house. 

A tiny trickle of dust caught her eye and she let her gaze slip
upwards while Mulder moved closer to Kride. A second thin trail of
sparkling motes caught in the light of the candles and she frowned.
Was the chandelier moving?

"Mulder?" her voice was low..coated heavily in warning. The monstrous
thing was  indeed moving. A part of her mind idylly noted that her
partner was now standing directly under the thing. 

Mulder had just turned to look at her, a question on his lips, when a
sound similar to the whispered snap of a glass rod drifted gently to
her ears. In slow motion, she saw the blanket of cobwebs lift as if in
an updraft and the ceiling start to fall away in a hitchcockian camera
move. There was no time for a shout or even a gasp. She simply hit
Mulder like a linebacker, driving both of them in the direction she'd
happened to be pointing in.

When it touched down on the floor directly behind them, the once
harmless light fixture hit the ground in a massive explosion of glass
and crystal shrapnel cutting, slicing and dicing the all-too fleshy
entities surrounding it. She landed on top of Mulder with a thud that
knocked the wind out of her, hearing the dreadful sound of a muffled
snap under her and the accompanied howl of pain from her partner.

It was a moment before she could catch her breath, but she still
rolled off him, her brain already certain she'd heard the sound of a
bone breaking..and it hadn't been hers. Her fears were confirmed when
she saw Mulder curled around himself in agony, one hand clutching his
wrist with white knuckles, breaths coming in short gasps. 

Ignoring the myriad cuts on her back and arms, ignoring the other man 
in the room who was staring blankly at the shattered carcass of the 
chandelier, she crawled over to Mulder and dragged him up into a 
sitting position. Shock was thankfully setting in, numbing the pain. 
It was clear to the naked eye that he had broken his right wrist.

"Jeezus Scully," he gasped, his body hunching over the broken
appendage. "Next time you save my life could you loose some weight?"

She couldn't refrain an amused snort. Only Mulder would crack a joke
when he'd broken a bone. She let herself run a hand softly down his
cheek in mute apology and then she set her hand to the injury,
prodding as lightly as she could. His face drained of what little
color it had left as he struggled to hold still. It was a bad
break..she needed her bag, and it was in the trunk of the Olds.

"It was him.." the breathless whisper behind her as she knelt over
Mulder only served to light her temper. "He wants you out of here.."

It was the caretaker, of course.

That sounded like his line.


"Help him sit, make sure he doesn't touch his wrist. I'll be right
back." she said, her voice steely. Mulder was looking shockier by the
minute.

As soon as she was satisfied that the old man was going to support
Mulder, she got up to go to the front door, digging the keys out of
his jeans pocket.

"Where are you going? It's storming out there." the caretaker looked
aghast, his face cut into sharp relief by the yellow light of the
candles. As if to punctuate the man's words, thunder rattled the walls
again.

"The car. My doctor bag is out there." she muttered, not caring to
justify her actions any further to the man. She flung open the door
before he could say anything more and she stepped out into the gale.

Easier said than done, she thought after a total of 4 seconds in the
cataclysmic downpour. She ducked her head and ran through the ankle
deep mud river of the drive, trying to keep her footing as wind and
water blasted at her like a typhoon. The entire world blanked white as
a flash of lightning shattered the dark and the thunder that cracked
with it sent a concussion wave through her body. She had to fight
every instinct she had not to flatten herself into the mud.

Wet metal under her fingertips. Unable to see much of anything in the
howling blackness, she let her hands trail along the car's side..
blinking mud and water out of her eyes as she went. The trunk. Cold
hands fumbled with the keys and then the trunk was popping open,
threatening to slam back down in the freakish wind. She braced herself
against it and hauled the big black bag out into the elements with
her.

Just as she shut it again, another strobe of lightning flashed,
illuminating everything and in a white freeze-frame she saw that two
of the tires on the car were completely flat. It stunned her into
inaction for a moment and she blinked, certain she'd seen things that
weren't there. Crouching down, she was able to look more closely.
Indeed, the tires were so deflated, the weight of the car now rested
on the rims of the wheel wells. Even if they wanted to leave now, they
couldn't. Not with two tires down.

She picked up the bag with two hands and began to stagger back up the
river to the looming black shape of the house atop the hill.

By the time she made it back to the porch she was utterly drenched and
shivering like a wet cat. Pushing back into the house, dripping wet,
she found the foyer empty.

She stood there for a long moment without moving, a pool of water
forming at her feet.

GodDAMNit!

"Mulder!" she yelled, crunching through the remains of the chandelier
to the base of the stairs. What the hell had he done with her partner?

"Mul-DER!" his name echoed in the huge house. The word that bounced
back to her told her how much fear was now present in her voice.

"He's up here." snapped Mrs. Hallery, floating like a shade out to the
top of the stairs. "We put him in his room." 

Where had she come from? She must've been awakened by all the racket
of the murderous chandelier.

She pushed past the old woman and trudged, dripping water, down the
hall.

Mr. Kride stood against a wall, his eyes still wide.

"The ghost wants you out.." he whispered.

Her eyes narrowed at the older man and then she half growled:

"No, *I* want *you* out."

He hesitated only a moment before leaving the room. Mrs. Hallery
followed reluctantly after, hesitating for a moment at the threshold
before a glare from Scully drove her the rest of the way out.

She finally turned to Mulder, who was half-dozing on the bed. Someone
had taken his shoes off. She sighed and set the bag on the floor by
the bed. She quickly stripped out of her newly soaked clothes, digging
around in Mulder's bag until she found a dry T-shirt. Pulling it over
her nakedness, she snapped open the medical case and pulled out a 
couple painkillers. When she faced her partner, he was watching her 
with shock hazed eyes.

"This'll help." She said gently, pushing the sweat-damp forelock out
of his eyes. "You'll have to dry-swallow them.." she murmured
apologetically, her mouth curling in a smile. "Since the faucet is
probably just running blood right now."

He gave a weak chuckle and lifted the pills to his mouth. They were
almost there when he stopped and lifted his eyes to hers.

"These are going to make me sleep aren't they?" he frowned.

She nodded. "That's a *good* thing. That way I can set your wrist."
she explained firmly...seeing that he was about to argue with her.

He set the pills on the bedstand and shook his head.

"No way Scully. It might not have been a ghost, but we saw something
down there. Somebody or something tried to kill us with that
chandelier. I'm not going to knock myself out until I know what's
going on."

She gave a deep sigh, frowning fiercely.

"I have to set that wrist Mulder. The tires on the car are flat, and
until this storm clears up we can't use our phones. Do you want to
have to have your wrist re-broken when we get back to a hospital?"

He shook his head again.

"Just set it Scully."

"For crying out loud Mulder. This isn't the movies. I don't have a
thick piece of leather for you to bite down on."

"A bullet?" he asked, his eyes sparkling in his white face.

She puffed out her cheeks and let loose a whoosh of irritated air as
she looked at him. The really annoying thing was that he was right.
Their car had been coincidentally rendered useless and though it might
have been an accident, that chandelier 'had' waited to fall till
Mulder was directly under it. It wouldn't do to have him helplessly
drugged right now. 

He didn't let her drop her gaze from his, and they both knew the
moment she caved.

She lit a couple more candles, bringing them closer to the bed.

"Ok Mulder." she pulled a splint and a few other things out of her bag
and leaned over the side of the bed. One small hand rested on the
center of his chest. "This is going to hurt like hell." With his good
hand, he reached up to cover hers with a squeeze. He tried on a grin.

"Don't worry doc. I bet you've fantasized about making me scream in
pain.." his eyes were gentle.

"There is that..." she raised a brow as she carefully pulled his arm
up, setting both hands on it. She bit her lip momentarily, wondering
if she should have sent the 'caretaker' out of the room like she had.
He might have been useful in holding Mulder down. A twitch of the
corner of her mouth vetoed the idea of hunting him down. No. She
didn't trust the guy.

"Ok Mulder, I'll count to three. Try not to move."

He nodded, his cheeks sallow in the candlelight, his jaw set. She saw
his adam's apple bob once, nervously and then he closed his eyes.

"One....Two...." and then she 'pulled' his wrist bone out and away,
her other hand quickly and skillfully guiding the offset bone into
place. His body arched in shock and pain, every vein on his throat
standing out as his teeth ground together in an effort not to make a
sound. To his credit, he did not cry out or even move that much..and a
moment later she wasn't surprised when his body went completely slack.
He'd passed out.

She took quick advantage of his state to manipulate the wrist..making
sure it was aligned as well as she could make it. Luckily it had been
a clean snap..no splintering that she could tell...and she was able to
make a pretty good effort to straighten the bone. Then her hands flew
to the splint and she rapidly strapped it on, tightening it as best
she could around the swelling. She was going to have to give him
something for that. A moment later and she had the arm strapped and
immobilized against his t-shirted chest with a sling. 

Scully was digging through her bag for an anti-inflammatory when he
stirred.

Perching on the side of the bed again, she let her hand cup his cheek
as his lashes stirred. She smiled at him, her fingers lightly stroking
back the soft hair.

"Still refusing those painkillers?" her voice was soft and held a hint
of a challenge.

"What painkillers?" he asked, his voice harsh. He glanced down at his
splinted wrist. "All done doc?" 

She nodded. "Yeah. All done. I want to give you something for the
swelling though. It won't knock you out, but it might make you
drowsy..and it will cut the pain just a little."

"I think I can handle that." Mulder's face was still paper-white from
the hurt, but she didn't think he was going to pass out again. She
knew that the adrenaline from the pain would help numb it until the
Ibuprofen kicked in. It would still throb, but it would be bearable.

"Did you say the tires on the car were flat?" he asked, after he'd
swallowed the new pills. She sighed, nodding and crawling onto the bed
with him..lying against his good side, breathing in the comforting
scent of his skin. A frown wrinkled her brow.

"Yeah. Two.. from what I could see."

"Why the hell would someone do that?" He mused. "It doesn't make
sense. Not when every other sign we've had has pointed to the fact
that we're not welcome here."

"Sign? You mean the chandelier?" she thinned her lips. "We can't be
sure that that was deliberate."

"Maybe not, but it was awfully suspicious. Maybe there really is a
ghost here. It did appear right under the chandelier.. like it was
luring us under it." he suggested, looking down at her with a serious
expression on his face.

She sighed.

"Mulder.." she didn't even know where to start. "This place is about
as haunted as my sock drawer at home." She cut him off before he could
spill the witty remark he was about to make. "No. Mr. Kride, or
whatever his name is, is so clearly trying to snooker Mrs. Hallery
into something that he might as well post a sign. That 'ghost' we saw
looks about as real as anything you'd see in the Haunted House at
Disneyworld."

"Snooker?" he grinned, still looking at her. "Isn't that like Pool?"

She ignored him.

"Come on Mulder. Why was he out and about in the middle of the storm
earlier? He's probably the one who flattened our tires too."

"But why would he do that? What could his motives possibly be for
something like that?"

"I don't know..." she sighed. "Look, why don't you try to sleep? The
sun will be up soon and hopefully the storm will have cleared up by
then. We can call AAA and have the car towed the hell away from this
nuthouse."

His eyelids were already drooping as he nodded agreement. The
adrenaline was retreating, leaving him in a state of dull exhaustion.
She watched him carefully until his face relaxed completely. Then,
noiselessly, she slid off the bed and hunted around on the floor for
anything of hers that was still dry. Her bag was still sitting in the
room next door, so she took up the candle and walked, barelegged, out
into the drafty hallway.

She didn't stop at the door to the red room, however, something urged
her forward out to the main entryway.

The chandelier's sparkling remains made a miniature galaxy of stars
out of the foyer floor as she moved down the steps with her single
candle.She knelt amidst the fragments to get close to the base of the
fallen giant. 

Holding her candle as close as she could to the stem of the thing, she
tried to find some evidence of foul play...something concrete that she
could pin a fact to. The chain that had held the monstrous thing aloft
looked to have simply broken. Peering at it, it could have been age
and strained metal..certainly the fixture was over 70 years old. She
looked upwards, trying to see the ceiling, but gave up after a moment.
It was too far up and the place where the chandelier had hung from was
shrouded in darkness. 

Sighing, she got to her feet, brushing glass shards off her knees. She
was about to climb the stairs when something gold caught her eye.
Bending down, she found another link of the chain that had held the
fixture up. This one was clearly the weak link. It was bent into a
warped C shape that was bent over backwards. And there in the center,
was what looked like some sort of corrosion..corrosion that had eaten
away part of the metal. 

Her lips curved into a grim smile. She knew that there was no
'haunting' going on here. This was clearly sabotage..and by a living
hand. What ghost would need to use acid to break a chain?

She picked it up with the bottom of her t-shirt and held it there,
more ammunition. She wasn't certain who she was trying to prove
anything to, but she liked to tell herself it was Mulder.

She headed up the stairs, back to her room.

It was hard, she thought, her eyes flickering into every shadowed
corner and crevice, not to let your imagination carry you away with it
in a situation like this. Even knowing that the house was *not* 
haunted, she was still having a hard time keeping her heartbeat 
steady as she pushed into the darkened red room and arrowed over to 
her abandoned bag on the bed. She was about to scoop it up, ready to 
make a rapid return to her partner when a sound spun her around.

This one was different than the thing she'd seen before. A man dressed
in fairly old fashioned clothes stood in the doorway. He looked solid,
looked real..but there was something..wispy about him. Almost as if
his edges were softly blurred. He simply stood there, staring at her
with blank, pleading eyes and then he turned and walked out.

Taking a deep, shaking breath, ignoring the burning wax that was
dripping onto her hand, she rushed after the man...bursting into the
hall..to see nothing. 

There had been something about the man that disturbed her far more
than the garish Halloween-costume creature she'd seen in the kitchen.
Her pulse was throbbing in her throat as she stood in the empty hall,
her bag still clutched tightly in her free hand. The look he'd given
her had been so sad. It had moved something inside her, made her ache
to erase that terrible grief in the man's eyes. She was trying to
rationalize the presence of a third person in the house, but her brain
seemed unwilling to fully accept the fact that what she had seen had
been...a living being.

And then, as she stood in the hallway..the door to the study creaked
open of it's own accord.

Blinking, she moved towards it cautiously, careful to remember that
Mulder had nearly been killed earlier by being lured into a trap.

Stepping into the study, she saw nothing. It was the same as they had
left it when they'd explored it earlier that night. Still, she
couldn't shake the feeling that there was something she was supposed
to see here. 

Moving towards the desk again she lifted the dust-crusted sheet,
exposing the papers again. Her brow wrinkled in a frown as she saw
another old newspaper sitting on top of everything. She was sure it
hadn't been there before. Picking it up, she tilted it into the light
of the candle and peered at the date. It was the same year as the
other papers, 1931, but it was a totally different publication. Her 
blood chilled as she looked at the photo on the front page. It was
...Mr. Kride.

Only he looked like he had not aged a day since the photo had been
taken. Swallowing, she quickly scanned the heading under the photo.

--Taken into custody today by the Kendell County Sheriff, Boyden Kride
was arrested today for the murder of his employer, George Hallery...--

A whisper of air was her only warning. She caught a moving shadow in
her periphery and then a kaliedescope of color burst behind her eyes 
and everything faded into a sparkling black.  

+++++


Mulder's eyes dragged open. The room was pitch dark. Outside, the rain
still beat against the side of the house. He gave an internal sigh.
Enough with the rain.

He bit his lip as he tried to readjust his position. He hated sleeping
on his back, but with his arm neatly wrapped and packed, there was no
other position for him. His head rolled on the pillow, looking for
Scully. Frowning, he reached out and felt only empty bed. 

After a moment, he forced his muscles into action, ignoring the
screaming throb coming from his wrist. He glimpsed the pale white
shadows of the two painkillers that still sat on the nightstand. He
resolutely looked away from them. He would never tell her how close
he'd come to swallowing them..taking peaceful oblivion over wakeful
pain.

He awkwardly lit a candle one handedly and held it up to peer around
the room. His door was ajar and he moved quietly towards it in sock
feet. 

"Scully?" he called out softly, poking his head out into the hall and
peering towards the bathroom. He could see the glint off the porcelain
sink that told him the bathroom door was open and it was empty.
Frowning now, he walked into the red room and saw her bag on the
bed..neatly opened and partially unpacked. A quick scan told him she
was not here either.

In a few moments he stood on the landing and looked down over the
monstrous corpse of the chandelier. 

"Scully?" his voice was louder now, his apprehension growing. Seeing
the wrecked chandelier had only reminded him that someone or something
had tried to kill him earlier. Fighting back the rising fear, he began
a systematic search of the house. Despite it's initial size, it was
fairly easy to search, and he didn't make any bones about trying to
stay quiet...calling Scully's name as loudly as he could. 

It was no surprise when Mrs. Hallery emerged from her room like a
white nightgowned specter.

"What do you think you're doing?!" she almost screeched, catching
Mulder as he flung open the door to the study, peering inside before
moving on to the next.

"My partner is missing.." he snapped at her, unwilling to waste time
talking to her.

The woman's sudden pale silence gave him pause and he spun on her,
grabbing her by her arms.

"Do you know where she is? If there's something that you're not 
telling me.." he growled at her, his face inches from hers. "Where is
she? Does that bastard Kride have her?"

The woman shook her head furtively.

"I don't know...I don't kn-ow...George went up to the roof..to fix a
shingle.." her voice was weak, her hands fluttered at her throat, she
seemed to be staring right through him. His frustration and worry were
making him impatient.

He thrust her from him and wrenched open the door that led to the
attic. Taking the stairs three at a time, he burst through the top
door and stopped dead in the attic, his nostrils flaring at the sudden
wetness in the air. 

A window was flapping open in the gusting winds, rain billowing
through the opening. Lightning chose that moment to paint the night
white and he turned his eyes away from the light. The thunder that
crashed with it vibrated in his bones. 

A thud on the roof caught his attention.

"Scully?!!" he caught the sill of the window one-handed and leaned out
into the raging storm, trying to twist his body to get a look at the
spine of the roof. A second flash of lightning illuminated the jagged
Widow's Walk and he saw a glint of red hair. Two figures struggling in
the wash of water and wind.

Cursing his broken wrist, he pulled himself one-handed up onto the
dormer that peaked over the window. Pressing his body against the rush
of water that sluiced down the soaked shingles he inched his way up as
fast as he could towards the top of the roof.

It seemed like an eternity before he curled his left hand around the
wet metal of the widow's walk and hauled himself over it with his
remaining strength. He looked up just as another bolt of lightning
sizzled through the air. Kride had Scully by the throat, lifting her
bodily off the ground, her legs and arms  flailing as she beat at his
hands and body. 

Still lying on his stomach on the tar paper of the roof, he slapped
his back for his gun, only then realizing that he had left it in the
room. No time for cursing. He shoved himself to his feet and launched
himself across the roof, knowing that he wouldn't be in time. 

Kride was lifting her up and over the spikes of the widow's walk,
grimacing like a maniac.

"I'll have it damn you!" he was howling, his voice screeching over the
storm. "I'll have it all...your house and your wife!"

It happened in slow motion. Kride had her over the side ..and
then suddenly..the big man jerked and staggered. His body seemed to
waver. His grip seemed to loosen. Mulder could see a dark stain
blooming on the man's back..and then a second. This time he heard the
faint report of the gunshot under the beating rain. 

He glimpsed a flash of ghost-white down on the ground, near a large 
tree. A nightgown? Mrs. Hallery?

Boyden Kride fell like a hewn tree.

And like a leaf from a branch, so did Scully.

Mulder lunged over the wicked metal spikes, his mind gibbering,
ignoring the metal tips that gouged into his ribcage..threatening
impalement. 

She was there..by some miracle, she was there. 

She hung over the side, fingers gripping the metal bars with all her
strength, her mouth open and gasping for air through her bruised
throat. Ignoring his broken wrist, he shook it free of the remains of
the tattered sling and grabbed onto both of her arms.

The pain was incidental as he hauled his partner back up onto the
roof, tumbling backwards as he did..pulling her on top of him.

The rain seemed...suddenly...to be easing, and he lay still, his eyes
closed as he held her close to him..gasping like a fish on the shore
of a lake. His fingers curled into the cold damp of her soaked
t-shirt, his arms pulled her against him as tightly as he could. 

The rain slowed to a drizzle..

..and stopped.

*******

Sunlight. It streamed through the cracks of the boarded up windows in
thin streamers of glittering dust. In unerring accuracy, one of the
needles of light found his eyes. He groaned and shifted his weight,
turning away from the irritant. There was a heavy warmth against his
side that hindered his escape from the glare. Eyelids fluttering, he
looked down at his partner. She was curled up against his side, fast
asleep. Turning and squinting he slowly realized that the sunlight
could only mean one thing.

The long night was finally over.

He clenched his teeth in pain as he slowly sat up, his wrist
protesting every movement. He had given in and taken the painkillers
after they'd gotten back to the room when Scully had announced that
she was going to have to reset his wrist. The pain had been bad enough
that he had caved. He'd drifted off into oblivion while Scully had
gone in search of Mrs. Hallery and his gun..the gun that they'd
discovered was missing upon return.

He had no idea if she had found their errant hostess. He still 
wondered if that had been her he'd seen in the rain. If it had been 
her who had shot Mr. Kride. It certainly made sense if you paired it 
with the missing gun.

But that was the only thing that made sense in this madhouse.

Scully stirred, her arm instinctively creeping out in search of the
vanished warmth of his body. He leaned down and touched her shoulder.
He was loathe to wake her after such a terrible night, but he wanted
to get the hell out of here.

"Scully?" his voice was groggy, the painkiller was still hazing both
his speech and his vision like a thin layer of scum on a pond. He gave
her a gentle shake. "Come on. The storm is over. Up and at em'"

Long lashes lifted, exposing sleepy blue eyes.

"Just a while longer.." she muttered, burying her head back into the
crook of her elbow. He grimaced at the terrible bruises that now shone
black and yellow on her throat. Nodding, he decided to let her sleep a
bit more and he gathered up their things himself. 

He collected her stuff out of the red room, noting that the crimson
furnishings looked even worse in the light of day..if possible. Then,
tucking their bags under his good arm, he trotted down the stairs and
across the foyer..depositing their things next to the door. 

He froze. He slowly straightened. And he turned around to look at the
floor.

There was nothing there. As in: the remains of the chandelier were
gone. Almost afraid to look, he tilted his chin up and with an
exhalation of air that was part sigh, part gasp, he saw the chandelier
hanging intact..covered with as much dust and streaming cobweb as it
had been when they'd first arrived.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, staring..but a moment later he
was trotting up the stairs to the attic. The window still hung open,
but now it was unmoving in the crisp, sweet smelling morning air. He
could hear birdsong just outside..and he took astonished note that the
black-boned tree that had scratched so menacingly at the window the
night before was now covered with luxurious fall foliage. 

He already knew what he would find on the roof, but it didn't stop him
from checking. If Scully and he shared any one trait, it was to be
thorough. Climbing up to the widow's walk was easy when the shingles
were dry, and a moment later he was standing on the old peeling tar
paper of the roof, looking at nothing. Not even a bloodstain.

It was quite a time before he moved. 

"Mulder? Are you up there?" he heard Scully's voice from below.

"Yeah!" he called. "I'll be right down."

Scully was waiting for him in the attic, her arms akimbo, staring
pointedly at his wrist. He shook his head, ignoring the doctor-words
he was about get lectured with.

"He's gone Scully. Kride's body is gone. And the chandelier..it's up
on the ceiling like it never fell.."

She blinked at him. He could see the gears clicking behind her eyes.
She knew that he wasn't lying to her. Mulder didn't lie to her. She
knew the things he was saying were easily verified..and yet, she could
no more accept them then she could turn into a giant striped Gnu.

He took her arm with his good hand and guided her down the steps, down
into the foyer, where she could see for herself.

"How?.." it was the only word she could get out. "It was..I saw.." she
was shaking her head, her cornflower eyes not leaving the huge light
fixture. After a moment, she crouched down and dug through the bag
that Mulder had carried down. She pulled her bathroom bag out and
lifted the broken lid that had contained the 'blood' sample. A faint
film of hard water mineral was all that clung to the inside of the
plastic shell.

She finally turned to him, and he saw the question in her gaze. Her
need for him to tell her what had happened. Apparently even his
version of reality would do in a pinch he thought with a little grin.

First, a question.

"Did you find Mrs. Hallery last night?" he asked, his brows raised.

She frowned.

"No. I couldn't find her anywhere. When I looked in her bedroom..it
was like she was never there..." she let out an explosive sigh. Her
eyes were resigned as she silently asked him to air his theory
already.

"You're not going to like it.." he said out loud.

"Just tell me." she'd regained some of her equilibrium and now she
simply stood, waiting.

"Ghosts, Scully. What else could it be?" He shrugged as if he was just
telling her that water was wet.

She sighed deeply.

"What about the bruises on my throat? How could a ghost do that?"

"Sometimes...apparitions can gain solidity. There have been cases
where people have had entire conversations with ghosts, thinking they
were talking to a living person..and finding out later that it was
someone who had died years before." He eyed the bruises in question
then. "What exactly happened last night anyway, Scully?"

She pursed her lips, her coppery hair falling forward as she bent her
neck slightly in thought. 

"I'd come downstairs to look at the chandelier, to see if I could
figure out how it had fallen. I found a piece of the chain that held
it up. It had been corroded somehow, but not with rust or anything..it
was something like acid. I'd taken the chain link and gone back
upstairs." She paused, a bit reluctant to tell the next part. 

"Someone..someone else, a man in old-fashioned clothes, led me into
the study. I saw an old newspaper that we'd missed before. It was from
1931 and there was a photo of Mr. Kride on the cover. The heading said
he'd been arrested for the murder of Mr. Hallery." she sighed, shaking
her head. "In the photo, Kride looked exactly as he did last night..it
must have been his grandfather." Her lips twisted wryly, knowing what
her story meant in the light of the things they'd discovered that
morning. "Kride grabbed me in the study. He knocked me out. I came to
up in the rain..he was yelling something at me..I could barely hear
him over the storm, but I got the impression that he wasn't speaking
to me at all..."

"Mulder..." she stopped with another sigh, shaking her head. He could
see windows and doors slamming behind her eyes. It was clear she
didn't want to face the ramifications of what her brain was telling
her was true.  "Look ..I called AAA already. A local guy should be
along soon to tow the car." she frowned, "assuming that the tires
haven't gone back to their previous inflated state."

"What do YOU think happened to Kride..and Mrs. Hallery for that
matter?" He challenged her.

She was silent for a long time, her eyes plastered on the center of
his chest. She always looked at his chest when she didn't want to meet
his eyes..it was Scully-speak for 'I'm fighting you on this, but I
can't really say why'. 

"Maybe Mrs. Hallery shot him with your missing gun. Maybe she did
something with the body last night."

Ok. It was plausible. He'd been thinking something along those 
lines. But Mrs. Hallery would have first had to shoot him somehow, 
then had to climb onto the roof herself..she would have had to pick 
up a man who was easily twice her size..

"Lets take a look outside. You didn't check out there last night, did
you?"

"No.." she admitted, a tiny line forming between her brows. 

Mulder pushed open the monstrous door, grimacing at the terrible
squeal that accompanied the action. They both stepped out onto the
porch..and they both stopped dead in the doorway.

It wasn't enough that they were both questioning reality as it was, he
thought. Now this.

The landscape looked like any other Indiana summer view. Rolling hills
of dark brown dirt and waves of sunburned blonde weeds stretched to
the horizon. Trees here and there marked out the places where other
houses nestled in the distance. And nowhere was there a single sign of
the downpour that that forced them to seek shelter the night before.

He watched his partner move slowly down the steps to kneel in the
hard-packed dry dirt of the drive. One hand came out to touch the
ground almost tentatively. Her face lifted back to his, a pale oval in
the clean morning light.

"It's bone dry." she said, the amazement shaking her voice just a
little.

Not speaking, Mulder descended the steps and walked around the side of
the house, his eyes scanning for any sign of a body, a clue..anything.
It wasn't long before his eyes landed on the dully glinting metal of
his gun. He squatted next to it and then looked up to the roof from
where he crouched. A perfect line of sight to where Kride had been
standing last night. And there, in the dry dirt, were small narrow 
footsteps.  He let a gust of air blow noisily from his lips.

He knew that Scully was trying to convince herself that they had had
some sort of shared hallucination. But the fact that his gun was now
lying out here in the weeds when he'd left it in his room..that was
going to be hard to logically step around. And what about these 
prints?

Footsteps alerted him to Scully's presence. He didn't move, nor did he
turn around, but there was a big grin stretching across his face.

He knew she could see the gun and the tracks. Explain that one my 
beloved skeptic. Tack it onto the end of your list.

"Mulder.." her voice was wavering. He knew he had her on this one.
She'd seen too much. The stark bruises on her throat were proof
enough. His broken wrist was still broken. They had *not* had some
sort of shared hallucination. 

The only thing that still  bothered him was the cliched spectral
moments they'd had the night before. The chains in the attic, the
moaning. The ghost under the chandelier. That didn't jibe. It seemed
too hoky..it had been what had thrown him at first.

"Mulder." she repeated his name. He felt her hand on his shoulder.
Picking up his gun and tucking it into his waistband, he turned to
her. The smile was still on his face. When she saw it, she shook her
head in exasperation..fighting a smile of her own. "The tow truck just
pulled up to our car."

*****

The man who hopped out of the cab of the tow had to be in his
eighties. He was as skeletal and grizzled and bent as any man who had
clearly been alive at the turn of the century had a right to be. He
was chewing on a stalk of wheat, his overalls dirty and showing signs
of a decade of use.

"Looks like you folks had yourself some bad luck.." he said as they
came up to him. He was standing at the side of the car looking down at
the flattened tires. 

Approaching the car, he watched Scully crouch down to run her hands
along the rubber of the sidewalls. There were two long tears in each
of the tires, but they were sitting on firm dirt. There was no sign of
the deep mud that had mired the Olds halfway up to the house.

"You two sleep in your car last night?" he asked as he walked around
to the back of the car, leaning down to look at the undercarriage and
scratching the back of his neck.

Mulder didn't feel the need to exchange a glance with his partner. It
was implied.

"No. We stayed up in the house." he heard Scully say cautiously.

"THAT house?" the man seemed stunned, the stalk of wheat falling from
between his toothless lips. His eyes shied away from actually looking
at the house. 

"Yes.." she seemed resigned. Mulder leaned against the side of the car
with a faint smile on his lips. This was the part where they got to
find out about the ghosts. This was his favorite part.

"Didja see em?" The man had straightened and was looking at the pair
of them suspiciously.. like they might be ghosts themselves.

"Who?" Mulder asked, egging the man on.

"The Hallerys and that creepy old caretaker a' theirs." Both he and
his partner remained silent and the man stepped closer to them as if
to tell them a secret.

"About 65 years ago, the caretaker killed Mr. Hallery...threw him off
the roof of the house. Old Mrs. Hallery saw the whole thing, but
didn't do a thing to stop it. She was a hard woman, I recall. I was
only a kid then, but I remember. They was gonna build the rail through
here around then. A new line up to Gary. The land value quadrupled,
but George Hallery..he wouldn't sell.  

"It was whispered around that time in town that Mrs. Hallery, she was
plotting with Kride. No one ever knew the whole story, but we guessed
that she and Kride wanted the money from the railroad that selling the
house would bring. I don't think she woulda done in her husband for
it, but Kride..he was always a wee bit off kilter. 

"When they came and took em' both away after they figured out what had
happened, they found a bunch of weird stuff in the house..odd things,
like machines that projected light shows and chains in the attic." The
old man took a breath, clearly delighting in the telling of the tale. 

"Kride confessed that he and the missus had tried to drive Mr. Hallery
out of the house by making him think it was haunted. It was working
too, but the Mister discovered Kride up in the attic making noise with
the chains and that's when he ended up dead."

"Was it raining the night that Mr. Hallery died?" Mulder asked. Scully
glanced at him uneasily, as if she didn't want to know that part of
it.

"Oh was it! It was the worst thunderstorm these parts have seen in
nigh 200 years. It near to washed me own Da's new barn down."

"That chandelier in there..." Scully asked, her voice crisp.."is there
a story behind it too?"

"The chandelier?" He furrowed his brow and scratched at his chin. 
"Yeah, I recall that. Mr. Hallery was nearly kilt by it when it 
fell. He shelled out big bucks to get a new one. He loved that 
thing..as I remember." A smile creased the old man's face. "He was a 
nice man, Mr. Hallery. He used to run the mercantile store in 
town..and he'd always have sweets for us kids."

The old man seemed to remember where he was suddenly. He peered
closely at the pair in front of him.

"So..didja see em'?" He asked again. "Last night was the anniversary
of Mr. Hallery's death. They say that odd things happen up there on
that night every year since."

This time he did exchange a look with his partner. She was sucking on
the inside of her lower lip in consternation. She let out a sigh.

"We did see something." she said finally. "But I'm not prepared yet to
say with certainty what it was."

Mulder chuckled.

That was probably as good as it was going to get.

END