A/N: Hello fellow fanfictioners. The following story is just going to be an X-File. I wanna say it maybe takes place around Season 5? Yeah, let's just say Season 5.
Anyway, I'll shut up now. Hope you enjoy.

Rated T just to be safe.

Ross County, Ohio
9:12 P.M.

"Mr. Pierce, there is a man here to see you."

The approximately sixty-year-old man stretched his aching joints as he rubbed his gray beard, staring at the door where his receptionist would be, waiting for his reply over the phone. His tired eyes took one glance to his watch as he grunted, "Uh, tell him I'm busy."

"He says it's urgent," His assistant's voice and her quick yet dainty footsteps seemed to get closer, along with a louder pair. "Um, excuse me sir! S-Sir, you can't go in there!"

The door flew open to show his young receptionist all flustered with alarm shown in her pretty face, and a man gently pushing her aside so he may have entry. The man was tall, around his age, fairly well-built, tanned skin, and unruly dark hair. Clearly Native-American.

Mr. Pierce stood up, crossing his arms. "Is it really so urgent that you must come in during late hours, scare my receptionist, and rudely barge into my office?" He questioned firmly.

"You're making a mistake!" The large man immediately shouted.

"And what the hell mistake is that?" He looked up to find his receptionist had vanished.

"You're not only risking your lives, but the lives of innocent people. You must stop!"

Mr. Pierce was not happy with the response. With a stern look, he warned. "Don't make me call security."

The native strode forward, grasping him by his shoulders tightly."The mound, you cannot take it down, they will be furious!"

Before Pierce could push off the frightful man and grab the phone, two men in uniform walked in stiffly, pulling the man off of him.

"If you do not stop it now, it will begin! You cannot let it begin—" The panicked voice eventually faded as security dragged him away.

Silence surrounded him for several moments, until the light, shaky voice of his receptionist broke it. "Sir?"

Mr. Pierce looked up at her blankly, only half of her was body sticking out from behind the door.

"Sir, are you alright?"

He forced a smile for her, walking over to her calmly and patted her shoulder comfortingly. "I'm fine, thank you. I think you should head home now, you look stressed."

She returned a grateful smile and walked out to gather her things quietly.

Mr. Pierce settled back into his chair, shaking off the events of this evening, and went straight back to work.

11:36 P.M.

The chill night breeze hummed eerily and caused the trees to gently lean, and the dark clouds parted every now and then to behold the full moon. Two faint lights on his old blue truck were the only good source of light Pierce would get to find his way down the dirt road. His wife had complained he needed a new car, but with the low amount of cash he was rolling in at the moment, he refused to waste money on one.

He clicked his tongue to the radio tunes, flipping through radio stations with one hand off the wheel. But his content mood came to a halt when "Bennie and the Jets" had turned into mindless buzzing. He switched to another station. Same thing. Switched again. Nothing. He let out an annoyed sigh, gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white.

Then his car lights began to fade, and followed by that his car began to slow. He pressed harder on the pedal, but nothing worked. Once the car stopped, he jumped out and kicked the tire in a fit of anger. "Damn it, no good piece of shit!"

After a long string of curses and moments of frustration, he plopped back into his truck and shut the door. He snatched his cellular device from the seat beside him, dialing it quickly and waiting as patiently as he could.

"Hello, this is the Pierce family, please leave a message and we'll get back to you as so as we can, thank you."

He threw his cell phone back into the passenger seat and scratched his beard thoughtfully. Out of the corner of his eye, a rustle in the forest to his right caught his attention. He sat still for a moment, waiting for anymore movement. It never came.

He breathed in deeply, mentally shaking his head to himself. He wasn't the one to get easily spooked; he messed with crazy people all the time at work. But that Native-American man was stuck in his mind, and he couldn't figure out why. Once again, trying to ignore any of that matter, he reached for his cell to call a tow truck.

A very loud and inhuman shriek pierced the silence of the forest, and before Pierce could even look up with wide eyes, he let out a most wretched and pained scream. His head slammed back against his window, red substance flowing down it. He struggled, waving his arms around and grabbing at his attacker. He felt his strength dying out on him, pain overcoming him, felt himself drowning in his own blood, and could hear the dreadful, raspy breathing of his enemy.

As he felt death creep closer, the last thing he saw before the darkness had swallowed him for eternity was a pair of pale yellow eyes.

A/N: *queue X-Files theme* :P

Yeehaw, getting my first real story started. And no worries, our two favorite FBI agents will be sure to appear in the next chapter.
Until then, have a good day.