Chris Adams
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Rating: PG-13
Category: X
Spoilers: None, slight reference to 'Milagro'
Summary: Not everything needs an explanation…
Note: Honestly, I am not mad…!
Mulder was watching TV when he saw it again.
Slowly, his mouth gaping slightly open, he placed the remote control on the armrest of his sofa. Not taking his eyes off the thing, he reached to his jacket on the table beside him. He pulled the gun from it's holder and pointed it, shaking slightly, at the thing he saw.
With his other arm, he reached for his cell phone. Hitting the auto-dial button, he waited for Scully to answer.
"Hello?" She yawned.
"Sc..Scully…? It's here again…"
"Mulder? What's here? It's after midnight, Mulder…"
"That thing I told you about a couple of weeks ago. The one we decided was a bad dream. This is no bad dream Scully."
"Mulder, what are you talking about?"
"It's there, Scully, It's starting to move again…. Shi….!"
"Mulder?"
Mulder had dropped his phone on the carpet and was aiming his gun at the thing with both hands. His teeth were gritted together and his eyes wide open with fear.
He moved slowly backwards as the thing moved slowly towards him.
Mulder fired his gun, nothing came out but a click.
"Damn…" he threw it down, and picked up a chair standing near the wall. Made purely of wood, it was your regular four-legged school variety. God knows where Mulder had got it from, he couldn't remember. But he knew one thing. He was ready to use it.
The 'thing' Mulder had witnessed had first appeared in his apartment two weeks previously. Exactly two weeks, actually. Mulder had seen a lot of things, scary things, but this had really gotten to him. He had dismissed it as a bad dream, a nightmare, a product of his fertile imagination. Anything but a strange lump under his carpet. A strange, living thing under his carpet.
But that was what it was. It appeared down where the wall meets the floor, beside his TV, a small, rippling lump at first. It grew to about the size of a basketball, still rippling slightly, although the carpet never seemed to crease. Then this lump, this strangely organic thing, because it could only be described as a thing, would move, slowly at first, then getting slightly faster, sometimes wavering slightly from it's path, and head straight towards him.
Mulder's face was crumpled in confusion and terror as he swung the chair down at the floor. He moved around quickly in a mad dance, trying to avoid the thing. Anyone looking in on him would probably have laughed like hell at the strange sight. But Mulder wasn't laughing. Oh, no.
A leg cracked off the chair and rebounded away (ha ha missed), but Mulder continued thwacking the floor with the seat. He bit his lip and tasted blood in his mouth briefly, but he continued hitting. And the thing continued rippling. Slowly, ever rippling, beneath (come and get me) the carpet.
It was just over ten minutes later when Scully arrived. She knocked at Mulder's apartment door three times, glancing at the door to her left and shivering slightly. Cold? She wasn't sure.
"Mulder? Are you in there?" She tried the door handle. It wasn't locked, so she went in.
Mulder was seated on his sofa, his arms crossed but his thumb resting below his chin. He turned nervously to Scully.
"It was here again, Scully." He pointed towards the opposite wall. Scully's glance followed his pointing finger, but she saw nothing but a chair, splintered in several places, missing three legs.
"What the hell is it Scully?"
"What Mulder? There's nothing there but a broken chair. Very broken…"
"It's gone."
"Tell me what you saw."
And so Mulder told his story, similar to the one he had told her a fortnight ago in the office when she had offered him a coffee, stared blankly into space and ignored her, deep in thought.
And so she comforted him, made him a warm drink, and assured him he had been having a nightmare or seen a large rat. All was well in the Mulder household.
Two weeks passed and it happened again.
Again, Mulder was caught by surprise, again watching TV. At first it wasn't noticeable, then it became the size of a golf ball, and continued growing, writhing and vibrating slightly under the dark blue carpet.
Biting his tongue, he reached for his gun. Glancing, hardly taking his eyes off the slowly approaching organic moving thing, he checked it was loaded. It was.
BLAM! BLAM BLAM!
Three bullets rebounded away from him. The lump wobbled slightly (Gosh he shot me how dare he) and quickly retreated to the wall, vanishing like a mouse into a mouse-hole (next time sucker next time).
This wasn't a mouse, though. Uh-uh. Mulder looked at the three circles in the carpet, singed black around the edges. Slight dents were in the wood below. He shook his head as if to rid it from the thoughts
A tentative knock on the door. Mulder opened it and found a small crowd gathered on the landing. The doors of the elevator at the end of the corridor opened and another group arrived. Most were wearing night-gowns, or sweaters hurridly thrown on. One man, bald and quite fat (Mr Harris, from downstairs, some distant attendant in his brain reminded him) spoke first.
"Are you OK? We thought we heard gunshots!"
A woman with pink curlers in her hair tried to stand on her toes and looks past Mulder into the room.
"What's going on in there?" she asked.
"Roaches." Mulder smiled. "Big problem in this building, don't you think? Gotta get rid of 'em somehow!"
Mulder noticed Mr Harris and the curler woman looking at each other in an odd fashion before he closed the door.
Was he going mad? He didn't think so somehow. He'd seen too many things to be mad. Not now (mad gonna get you madman). What the hell was that? It was like it was teasing him.
Next time, he would be prepared. If, and when, it came back.
He didn't have long to wait.
Two weeks passed and it happened again.
Mulder sat on his sofa, TV off
His computer screensaver rolled across his PC's Monitor strange, slithering shapes. After a while he couldn't bare to look at it much longer and hit the mouse The screensaver flickered off and he turned off his computer.
And (here I come) waited.
It appeared larger this time, although that may have just been Mulder's imagination. No, it did definitely look larger.
Mulder sat.
It moved across the floor of course - under the carpet, and Mulder watched it. It didn't ripple the carpet. I mean, if you put a basketball underneath a carpet, it would crease up at the edges, right? But it was if the carpet was actually expanding to accommodate the bulge beneath it. And it moved (come on then) faster towards (what you waiting for) him.
Mulder pounced.
Swinging his right arm out, he grabbed the long, eight inch kitchen knife (reasonably priced at his local store - get yours now! Ideal for chopping carrots and killing carpet monsters!, he mused, but it hadn't spent long in the kitchen), and with his left, he grabbed his freshly-loaded gun.
First he shot at it, all nine rounds (darn you thats quite annoying really! please stop it please) and then plunged at the thing with the blade. It shivered slightly, rocking from side to side (ok that wasnt really very fair now was it that hurt) then headed back to it's non-existent home beyond the wall. A few seconds later it re-emerged as if to take a look (just a little look a little safety check then I'll get him this time) then retreated when Mulder advanced with his knife. It vanished, but Mulder stabbed the floor a couple of times Just in case.
He breathed out heavily realising he had been holding his breath. His hand was shaking. He dropped the knife and the gun, rocked backwards slightly swallowed as his vision blurred. He willed himself not to faint, to stay conscious, he knew what might happen If he didn't. His computer became two and he fainted on the sofa.
"Mulder? Sir he's coming round " Scully looked at Mulder. She looked like a doctor. Well duh. "Did it… did it get me?"
"What?"
Skinner approached behind Scully Mulder noticed two other people in the room, one crouching and examining his carpet.
"Agent Mulder, what exactly happened here? Who did you shoot?"
"Mulder, the woman across the hall said she heard eight or nine shots, and the guy below heard a hell of a commotion up here. When I saw you there on the sofa I thought you were… you had…"
"It came back Scully."
"What came back? That lump thing? Mulder, we decided it was a rat Or your imagination "
"No! It was there! You think I'd shoot at a rat nine times then stab the thing? It SPEAKS to me, dammit!"
"What? Mulder you fainted, you were out cold for nearly forty minutes. Maybe you hit your head... "
"I hear it in my head. It wants to kill me." Skinner silently made mental notes, trying not to look too disturbed. Or to laugh.
"Mulder we're gonna take you to hospital .."
"0hhh, no. I'm not mad if that's what you think Scully."
"No, I don't think you're mad. Not completely mad, anyhow. I think you saw something. An unidentified carpet lump." She grinned.
"We need to examine your weapon too. Perhaps you should think about some help too, Agent Mulder. The neighbours aren't too appreciative of carpet shoot outs at midnight." Skinner sighed and walked out of the room.
"C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up " Mulder realised he had a cut on his arm, he expected he'd need stitches. Must have cut himself on the knife. Must have. He glanced at it, laying on the floor. No blood on the blade.
Two weeks passed and it happened again
Mulder had expected it though. Some hellish things had happened in the last fortnight. He heard it all the time now, well, every few minutes, although it had grown chattier all the time. It wasn't a voice, it just appeared in his mind, like a thought.
(nearly time now isnt it dont you fight me this time dont wake the neighbours they dont like carpet shoot outs at midnight oh the wit!)
He hadn't given up though. It was able to talk to him, fill his mind with crap that had made him depressed and angry all week. Thoughts that had made him tell Scully to get lost on Monday. But they had made friends, they always did. He still didn't tell her about it.
But it wasn't able to see what he was doing.
And so, just hours earlier, he had followed Scully into one of her autopsies, out of curiosity he had told her. She had looked at him strangely but agreed to let him in. He had picked up the bottle of red liquid from the shelf, the biggest in the row, the only one without the standard FBI label.
"What's this do Scully?" he had asked in an interested voice. She had glanced up quickly from her work. "Don't play with it, Mulder. Strong acid. Burn through your skin if it gets on it "
"Oh ." He smiled, and as Scully looked back down, he tucked the bottle into his jacket pocket (it was noticeable, but he could hide it with his arm), said goodbye to Scully and hastily left.
(the countdown begins excited yet fox come on admit it you are gosh isnt this fun)
It appeared again, same time, same place.
(here we go now you can join me)
Moving (I was in you fox in your arm but you know that dont you and you liked it so much when you were out didnt you now its gonna be good for ever!!) slowly at first (for ever fox think about it now no fighting this time nice perfect world think fox think) but growing ever quickly across the (youre gonna love it its gonna be swell I tell ya then im gonna kill you fox kill you) floor towards (but you aint gonna argue son no no no or ill get you anyway the nasty way the real way in the real world scully crying think fox) Mulder sitting on the sofa, gritting his teeth and trying to block the thoughts out (nearly there) but without much luck.
It stopped about a metre in front of him. And started to grow (here I come fox nearly there now). It grew to about, say half a metre high, and the carpet at the top of the mound began to split slightly. Mulder saw a flash of red, which quickly was green, with no visible change. It looked like water, liquid swimming about on the skin of some unseen horror.
(dont fight now fox its time)
Mulder slowly reached to his right, still staring at the thing and moving as slowly as he could. He didn't think it knew if he just kept looking at the thing (ready fox are you ready to die ha ha did I fool ya just kidding not gonna kill you yet gosh I am funny).
Mulder slowly unscrewed the cap of the bottle, a large black skull and crossbones staring back at him from the red label. Being careful not to spill any of the red stuff on to his flesh, he moved his arm so it was directly above the emerging thing under his carpet.
(here we go lets all count kiddies three two one!)
Mulder upturned the bottle and the red liquid sloshed down on to the (gosh darn what are you doing now hell that hurts jesus christ fox what the hell is this stuff what the hell you doing???!!!) mound, the liquid glooped down the slopes of it and seeped into the small hole on the top, making a small hiss as it hit the exposed flesh. He saw the edges of the area of carpet singeing (dammit what the hell what the hell is this stuff gosh why are you doing this we were gonna be the bomb!! Owt Is this acid or something you little sucker you-!) away under the highly concentrated acid.
The liquid finished and Mulder put the bottle on to the table, and sat back to watch the show, pressing his fingers into the sides of his forehead to try and drown out the thoughts. The thing moved slightly but stopped, as if it were dividing its energy between moving and struggling under the acid, and deciding to devote all resources to struggling.
(I hate you fox I hate you! You dumped acid on me you little...!)
The carpet that had once covered the thing had mostly burned away and the swirling red and green mass of flesh was now exposed but shrinking rapidly. An oval-shaped area at the front was like black oil swirling round to a small white point. Mulder assumed this was the creature's (if it was a creature, he assumed it was, but then again he had been assuming a lot these days) eye, and promptly kicked it.
(ow you little goddam freak that was my gosh darn eye how dare you I cant see you BURNT me you hurt me why did you hurt me we could have lived and lived and its so much fun except now you burned me with this acid crap it hurts so much gosh it hurts I think im dying I wasnt meant to die you were meant to die)
The thing shrunk and after just a few minutes was just a small puddle on the floor. Like it was evaporating, the hissing sound subsided and the pool shrunk, a light haze rising off the ground until there was nothing left except bare wood, stained red, and singed pieces of carpet.
(I'll get you)
A gaping hole about a metre across was left in the centre of Mulder's room. Mulder smiled and rubbed his head. He realised he could no longer hear the thing speaking in his mind.
Thank God.
Mulder got up, made himself a ice-cold drink, and although it was midnight, turned on his TV.
( )
Two weeks passed and Mulder had his apartment re-carpeted.
THE END
Author's note:
Not everything needs an explanation, as we have learned from six years of The X Files. Personally, I love it when we are left wondering "What the hell…what if…" at the end of an episode. So, as much as I'd like to explain the above story, I can't. What was the thing under the carpet? How did it get there? Well, I don't know.
I can explain one thing - the inspiration for this story. A story in Stephen King's 'Nightmares & Dreamscapes' book was inspired purely from a picture. It shows a pleasant row of detached houses, in a perfect-looking suburban street. Only one of the houses is actually lifting off like a spacecraft. One window in the house is illuminated as it descends upwards. In the same book that the picture first appeared, by Chris Van Allsburg, there is another image, that of a man standing, holding a chair, his mouth twisted in terror, while in front of him a strange bulge in the carpet moves slowly towards him.
Underneath, a caption reads 'Two Weeks Passed and It Happened Again".
To me, this is a 'horror' story in its own right.