The house is one any average suburban family could afford, but it's empty of furniture, light, and has only one, young, confused resident tonight. A dark-haired boy feels his way around the place, groping at the walls in search of a light switch. The winter night sky is cloudy so that even the moon can't shine out.
"Hello?" His call goes unanswered just like all of his attempts. The boy's breath is visible and seems to pierce his lungs with the chill. Where am I? He wonders. Who am I? I don't remember how I got here. Wait- I don't remember anything! Fear goes coursing through his veins. Nothing is familiar, the house, the sky, even his own thoughts feel alien. "Help!" He starts to scream. He wants to run and hit something, anything; if it would just bring his heart rate down. His only objective is to get of the house and find another living human being. He goes to his knees and starts crawling. His right shoulder never leaves the wall, and he can only hope it will lead him out of the labyrinth of a house.
The entire time, the only thing he's sure of, is that he's alone. But even that, isn't true. A creak stops the nameless boy in his tracks. He strains his ears, waiting for any sign of life, but none presents itself. The dark-haired kid continues on, only getting a few feet before the creaking meets him again.
"Who's there?" He shouts, whipping his head back and forth. He locates a window and nearly collapses in relief to find an exit. Hope fills his gaze as he squints at the glass, just to find a man staring back at him. The boy stands and sprints away without hesitation. Noises seem to fill the house as the man enters in pursuit. He's after me! The boy thinks. His bare feet hit the floor with a smack as he runs through room after room. But everywhere he goes the silhouette of the man stands behind every window. Again and again, the same man is there.
Eventually, the boy throws himself into an empty closet, slamming the door closed hard enough to make the hinges shake. His panting fills the enclosed space. All the boy can do is cradle his kneels against his chest and fight back hot tears.
"What is happening?" No response. "Who is that man?" No response. "Who am I?" Nothing. "Why don't I remember anything?" Silence. He waits for about five minutes, letting his breathing slow along with his heart. "I must get out." The boy mutters, and pushes the door open. The second he's exposed, pale hands reach out from the darkness and find his neck.
The boy's screams fill the home, and don't stop until every light in the neighborhood is on.
Scully folds her arms as she enters Mulder's storage basement of an office. He's got his legs kicked up on the table top and a file in his lap. He flips through it with a grin that Scully knows can only mean trouble and a whole lot of air travel. She sighs and preps herself for the paranormal mania of dialogue that will surely follow her question.
"Is that an X-File?" Mulder's smile widens as he looks up at her unamused expression.
"No, but I have a feeling it could be." He returns his feet to the ground and points into the file. "About two days ago in Denver, Colorado a murder attempt was made against a boy estimated to be around 11 or 12. The boy was found in an empty, for-sale, suburban house by a neighbor who was awakened by his screams in the middle of the night. He looked to have been nearly strangled to death by bare hands, but when everyone arrived, the culprit had disappeared. Upon further investigation," Mulder's eyes fly over the print faster now. "It was discovered the boy had no recollection of how he had gotten into the house, anything about his past, nor even his own name."
"A John Doe?" Scully raises an eyebrow, Mulder nods and leans forward.
"I've asked to take this case, Scully. I have a feeling." Agent Scully fights back a groan; Mulder's feelings have a knack for being misguiding and right at the same time.
"What do you expect to find?"
"I don't know." He shrugs. "But I'll find out tomorrow after our flight to Denver, Colorado." He stands and offers her the file. Scully looks down at it and back at him without taking it.
"There has to be something you're not telling me. A boy with amnesia and a failed murder hardly qualifies as an X-File." The two hold eye contact for a full three seconds before Mulder gives in.
"The John Doe reported seeing the attempted murderer over and over again in outside windows while insisting he was in the house too. The kid also doesn't seem to actually exist. There is absolutely no record, no missing child reports fitting him. This John Doe, along with the rest of the world, has no idea who he is." Scully does her best to look not intrigued, but she is. The agent takes the file out of her partner's hand and gives in.
"Then I guess we're going to Colorado."