Hello, in this story, the events that take place happen in modern times, like the new series this year. This story does not contain spoilers, nor does it have anything to do with the conspiracy episodes. It's written as a regular episode that takes place in the recent season. I do not own the X-Files, I'm just borrowing their characters.

Thank you, and enjoy!

_..._

Tall, Thin, and Faceless

Prologue

Clearwater National Forest, Idaho

"NOLAN!" a man in a disheveled uniform yelled. His screams were becoming more desperate and tired as the hours dragged on. The chilled night air set in his bones and traveled in the frosty mist that obscured the landscape evermore. How many more hours could he do this? And for how many more days? To sweep the forest thoroughly would require weeks, and he didn't have that long. The sheriff's eyes were already ringed with exhaustion and his neck was scruffy from days of neglect.

If he were to pause and squint through the darkness, he could still hear his men calling out like he was, and for that he was ever grateful. He was staying further from them unintentionally, for he could barely make out the beams of their flashlights waving wildly around. He called out again:

"NOLAN!" His calls were getting progressively angrier. He was angry at humanity, uneasy at the odds of his son still being alive, and furious at himself for how useless his efforts have been for the past few days. His eyes shimmered with frustrated tears similar to the way his badge shone in the moon's light.

Barking from the police dogs echoed around him. It was mindless animal noise, though they sounded as aimless as he was. He was certainly by himself when the air became suddenly frigid. He cupped his hands over his mouth and breathed heat into them. He felt a presence that made him stop cold in his path. When he turned to scream his son's name once more, he thought he caught a glimpse of something.

Before he could register what it was, a ringing erupted that reverberated in his brain, ears, eyes… everywhere. His fingers gripped at his ears nearly ready to rip them off. He looked up through bleary eyes and saw… some thing in the distance. A man? He frantically grabbed his pistol and recklessly fired off an entire round in its general direction.

Even in the delirium of this sudden fresh hell, he knew he had missed it. The pistol fell from his hand and he quickly grasped for his camera in his back pocket. He was prepared to capture the identity of this man at the very least if he couldn't kill him. He held the camera and flashed the picture- again, and again, and again. It was gone by the time he looked up.

When the static finally cleared from his mind, he looked down at one of his hands that clutched his face. He must have been bleeding profusely from his nose because it was covered in blackened rouge liquid. He felt warm drips running down his jaw and streams running from his eyes. Was all that blood as well? Or tears? The sheriff did not want to know. Whatever he had taken a picture of, what and how in the hell did it do this to him? Soon, he could hear the approach of human footsteps and padded paws crushing the dry grass and deadened leaves around him. Warm flashlights danced around him as his men were already tripping over their own questions at him. What in hell happened? What are we shooting at? What did you see? God, Chief! His lieutenant shook his shoulder until he looked up and met his gaze.

"Good god, chief, are you-" The dogs suddenly whined and cowered behind him. When the lieutenant turned around to them he gasped at the sight before him.

"What in the hell…"

The trees were bleeding.