Chapter 1: A Professional at Work
Summary:
Mind of a killer.
This is chapter 1 of a longer piece that will travel into MSR territory. I guess its 4th season…
Disclaimer:
My cousin tells me that I'm crazy. Brett tells me I should write more. Copyright laws tell me that the X-Files are not mine.
A/N: Please read and review. I am a real person (I think).
XXX
He did not pride himself on the swiftness of his kill. The deftness of his actions, the light-footedness he possessed, and his raven perception were not inherent. If asked to pinpoint the moment the adrenalin hit him, he would have to say that the click of the gat-lock as it swung freely on its buttered hinges was the point of grand rapture. It was so easy. He was trained to fight, flight, and forget, but he knew that this time was not the same. He couldn't dives himself of his arrogance. His pride. No, not in the swiftness, but the vitality preceded by the human self-deception of immortality was what allured him on countless prior missions. It was that he was a god that slithered with the countenance of a snake. He could go undetected, and yes, strike swiftly, but always divest himself of his skin. Tonight, like a constrictor, he would strangle, subdue, and wait for submission before consumption.
XXX
Five miles away in a dark basement office a red light began to flash while tape was fed through a recorder. On the other end of the line a synthesized voice on an MP3 file recognized the connection and began to play.
