Please Note- Scully and Mulder are vampires. The missing parts will be filled in the following chapters.
The month of April is supposed to bring happiness, warmth, and that bounce in your step. This April, the April of 2024, brought everything but the aforementioned. That morning should have been a sign, but since her too-close-for-comfort meeting with Krishna, she had allowed herself to ignore what Delta would have called signs.
Walking into the bathroom, she glanced at the mirror and saw a vibrant, brilliant blue blur. Turning quickly, she realized it was nothing but she had the urge to touch the reflective glass. As her skin touched the mirror the glass spider-webbed. She watched as deep grooves embedded themselves in the glass. The gold frame made an odd sound.
"Shit!" She blocked her face and as shards of glass began to explode and shoot at her, time seemed to slow. She turned her head , her hair covering her pale cheeks, and suddenly time hit full force knocking her into the wall and showering her with glass.
"Son of a gothic mother of God! Nice one! Just blow up in my Goddamned face for no fcking reason! Thank you very fcking much, asshole." Dana could be the calmest person on earth, but set her fuse and pray you were already dead.
"What did you do? Blowing up the mirror will not fix your face. Not to mention you almost blew up the bathroom." Mulder walked in the doorway, looking at his lover. His brown hair fell in his eyes, blocking his view. As he moved the whisp of hair, his hazel eyes moved to her deep blue ones. He stated the obvious.
"You're bleeding," She smiled at him seductively.
"Crave a lick, love?"
"No thanks, I've had my fill of blood for the day. Though, I never stop craving you."
"I suppose the blood will go to waste then. Go wait in the car while I clean up."
"Okay, do you know anything about this informant?"
"Nope, although the informant is a guy. His writing was definitely not feminine."
xXx
Her wet hair blew in the raging wind. The raindrops stung her skin as they seemed to plummet down the ground. Hot tears burned her eyes ans gave a strange warmth to her reddened, icy, bloody cheeks. Blood seeped from her wounds. Wounds were all over her, but the deepest one had severed her heart.
Her only son was in front of her, covered in blood. A slash oozing blood decorated his forehead; deep scratches embedded themselves in his chest. Old scars were scattered across his stomach and new, unhealed scars would make themselves at home across his body now.
The worst of it lay beside her feet. Her love, soul mate, and her life was also smudged in blood. Bruises were forming, blood was pooling. The thick red liquid ran from his nose, lip, and other numerous odd gashes in his paling blue flesh. Once touched by Krishna, he felt dazed as Krishna came for his soul. And now his body was dead. Mulder was gone and Dana Scully was in shock.
She whispered the "Our Father" in English while it raced in her mind in a dozen other languages. Her knees hit the bloody mud first, then her elbows and forearms. Liquid mud splashed onto Mulder's face and Scully's eyes wandered from his closed eyes to her 23 yesr old son's heartless face above her. He held the athame that had scored her lover's flesh.
She mumbled something in Russian as new strength and defiance pulsed through her veins.
"What was that?" William's stone face seemed waxy in the way it repelled the droplets of rain. His nearly jet black hair barely moved an inch because of the dried blood covering it. His hair was, of course, dyed. He had inherited his mother's red hair and his father's hazel eyes. Both were in the mud just down the short hill in front of him. His mother's eyes narrowed.
"I said that you were never my son, just a little bastard child. I forgot you were so uneducated not to know your own root language."
"Say what you want, for who could hear a pathetic little whore over this wretched storm?"
"Kiss off. Krishna will never take you! But he will take me when it is my time."
"All talk, the little whore is. Why don't you show me some action, maybe a nice fck."
"As you wish." Suddenly Scully grasped the pendent around her neck and executed a short precise yank. The gold chain snapped and fell heavily into her hand. William's attention shifted to the pendent.
"No!" The athame flew from his strong hand and ripped through Scully's flesh, clipping her brachial artery. Pain shot through her arm, but she knew it would pass as she pulled the sacred knife out from her arm. Blood slipped from her wound and traveled the route of a previos raindrop, hitting the heart shaped pendent where the thorns were located. Ever so softly she whispered the words of her greatest friend. The friend who brought death and pain to many, but saved even more. She whispered the last and yet wisest words ever spoken by the lovely woman.
"Run from death and run from birth. If death is not your cup of tea or brand of Vodka, then refuse birth next time, for all those who are born die. It is just that some die faster than others." Thunder sounded and lightning flashed, and she slipped into oblivion. Memories of her many years whipped backwards through her mind and halted on the day in which decided her lover's fate.