X FILES belongs to Chris Carter. Any resemblances to persons living or dead are strictly coincidental.

This is my first multichapter X-File story. Let me know what you think! The first chapter is short because it's the intro (you know--before the opening credits).

SMITHFIELD GERIATRIC CENTER

LANSDALE, PENNSYLVANIA

10:35am

The residents' lounge at Smithfield Geriatric Center was a tasteful but boring room decorated in shades of mauve, with rented plants in the corners and one large picture window overlooking busy Gwyn Avenue and the local Hyundai dealer. Strategically placed speakers wafted soft muzak, but if it was supposed to contribute to anybody's quality of life, it failed miserably. Residents and staff alike had learned to tune it out as they went about their routine. A few residents amused themselves by staring out the window. One or two others, far gone in dementia, stared at visions that only they could see. One woman worked alone on a jigsaw puzzle. But most of them were fixated on the morning talk shows--one of their few links with the outside world. Today's topic was cross-dressing exotic dancers and their colleagues who hate them.

"Now I've seen everything," shouted one elderly woman as she grabbed the arm of her deaf companion. "Why back in my day, people would never even talk about..."

Even though the other woman couldn't hear what was being said to her, she nodded politely. After all, she could still see the guests on the TV show. It wasn't too hard to figure out what they were talking about. Besides, she always watched this show because it was fun to watch the guests fight.

The nurse on duty, Gert Stevenson, stood in a corner of the lounge with her medicine cart. She grinned at the conversation and shook her head as she pushed tablets into a tiny paper cup. But before she could give them out, she heard a shriek and a loud "Git! Get out of my room! Get out of here now!" followed by an anguished wail. Hastily locking her medication cart and stuffing the pills into her pocket, she ran down the hall and around the corner. She made an abrupt stop in the doorway of room 37.

In his wheelchair in the middle of the room, sat a patient, Donald Cosentino, rocking slightly and holding his right wrist. His eyes were screwed shut in a deep frown. But when he saw Gert he sat up straight and reached for his wheels.

"Mr. Cosentino?"

"Oh now what? Go away," he said irritably as he turned his wheelchair away from her.

"I heard a noise. I came to see if you were okay."

"Of course you heard a noise. There's always noise around here. Noisiest place--no wonder you can't get any sleep around here."

Gert walked slowly into the room, and saw the remote control on the floor, out of Mr. Cosentno's reach. She crouched down to pick it up for him and he took it from her. Gert gasped.

"Mr. Cosentino, what happened to you? How did you get that mark?"

"What mark? There's no mark."

Gert gently grasped his hand. There was a mark on his wrist, three connected spirals. "This one. The one right here."

"You dumb broad, that's not a mark. That's just from breakfast when I spilled hot coffee on myself."

"All the skin is reddened. If you had told us when it first happened we could have treated it sooner. In fact, why didn't Joelle tell us about this? She's your private aide. She should have told us right away."

"Now don't go blaming Joelle."

"Where was she?"

Mr. Cosentino shrugged. "Nowhere special. She went to the bathroom--I can mind myself for five minutes, you know. What, she can't even go to the bathroom now?"

Another nurse walked by the door and Gert called out to her, "Lisa, would you bring me the blood pressure cuff?"

"Aw, will you just leave it alone?" Mr. Cosentino roared.

Gert ignored him. "And where is Joelle? Get Joelle now."

Lisa turned to go, calling, "Joelle! Joelle!"

xfXFxfXFxfXFxf

In the bathroom in the hall, just two rooms down from 37, a young black woman in a scrub suit stood with her back against the door. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing hard. In both hands she clutched a pendant worn on a chain around her neck.

When her breathing slowed a bit, she put her hand up to her forehead and pulled it away quickly. There was a glistening red wetness on her fingertips. She gasped and bounded to the sink, grabbed a paper towel and wet it, and proceeded to clean the laceration at her hairline. Then she took a bandaid from her pocket and put it over the cut, wincing as the adhesive pulled at her hair. Finally, she rewound her headscarf to hide the injury.

There was a sharp rap at the door. "Joelle, are you in there?"

The young woman jumped, then called over her shoulder, "Yes, Lisa. I am coming out."

"There's been an incident in 37! They need you right away."

"I am coming." Joelle turned away from the sink. But as her hand touched the doorknob, she looked down and saw her pendant dangling outside her uniform. It had three connected spirals.

Quickly she shoved it under her top.

A/N I hope you liked it! Please leave a review and let me know what you think--am I on target or not?

Next chapter--Mulder and Scully (of course).