Title: Night Marchers
Author: Paranoid Patty
Classification: X-file and a hint of MSR
Rating: PG-13 for violence and language
Feedback: scully4723@yahoo.com
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, and all things X-files belongs
solely to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, and Fox. I
claim no credit for them.
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NIGHT MARCHERS
CHAPTER 1
Nu'uanu Pali Lookout
Honolulu, Hawaii
12:39 AM
Saturday, October 16, 1999
A sudden, strong gust of wind hit Roy Tanaka from behind, making
him stagger forward a few feet until he could regain his balance. An
involuntary shiver ran through him; it was cool up here at the Pali Lookout,
especially at night. Taking a sip of water from his bottle, he gazed down at
the twinkling lights in the valley, then out toward the black water of Kaneohe
Bay. The thousands upon thousands of stars were bright beacons in the dark sky,
flickering softly. The whistling of the wind through the trees was like music
to him; he loved to come here at night, when there was no one here but himself.
During the day, busloads of tourists would crowd the lookout,
which was located on the Pali Cliffs. They would take pictures and read the illustrated
signs that told of how King Kamehameha and his warriors forced their enemies
off the cliff to meet their grisly death hundreds of feet below.
Roy breathed in the cool tropical air. He had lived on Oahu all
his life, and this was his favorite spot on the whole island. Here, he could
let his mind wander; lose himself in the simplicity and beauty of nature. He
closed his eyes and sighed, then replaced the cap on his bottle and set it on
the ground.
Suddenly, Roy heard footsteps in the darkness, though he couldn't
tell from which direction they came. He turned, looking for whoever it was that
had made them. He saw no one, only his car in the parking lot.
Memories of stories he had heard as a boy came to mind; the
ghostly apparitions of the "Night Marchers"- spirits of long-dead
Hawaiian warriors coming to take his life- made him smile. He didn't put much
faith in those tales. It was just a legend, made up to frighten young children.
*Relax,* he told himself. *It's only the wind.*
He stiffened. The footsteps had sounded again, this time
definitely behind him, and he could hear voices, chanting in Hawaiian,
accompanied by the beating of a lone drum. He could also see pale, flickering
lights through the trees. That's when he saw it: a man, wearing a loincloth, a
feathered cape, and a headdress. A small, round pendant hung from his neck. He
was wielding a spear, with a hideously barbed tip. The man was about three
yards in front of Roy, prodding Roy with his weapon. Roy backed up, until he
was at the edge of the cliff. All that separated him from the gruesome drop to
the valley floor was a waist-high concrete wall.
He looked in fear at the ancient Hawaiian warrior approaching him.
He could see others now, at least twenty of them, coming through the dark trees
toward him. The first one halted and raised his hand. The other warriors
stopped in their tracks, pointing their weapons at Roy, lifting them into
firing positions. The drumbeats grew louder. *Thump, thump.*
The leader dropped his hand and yelled out something in Hawaiian.
The warriors flung their spears at Roy. All he could do was scream.
~X~
J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building
Washington, DC
7:43 AM
Monday, October 18
Special Agent Fox "Spooky" Mulder leaned back in his
office chair, propping his feet up on his desk. His office, located in the
basement of the FBI Building, was home to the X-files: a small section outside
the Bureau mainstream that dealt with cases associated with the paranormal and
the occult. This was his life's work, his passion. On a shelf behind him was an
open jar of sunflower seeds. He reached into the container and grabbed a
handful, then plopped one into his mouth. Spitting out the shell, Mulder picked
up a manila folder sitting on the desk. Cracking another seed between his
teeth, he opened the file, and read it for what had to be the fifth time that
morning.
"Where are we going this time, Mulder?" A female voice
suddenly asked him. Mulder looked up from the folder at the woman standing in
front of his desk. She was about 5'3 in height, physically fit, with short
auburn hair, and smartly dressed in a black business suit. This was Mulder's
partner, Dana Scully. They had worked together for almost seven years now, and
though she didn't share her partner's belief in the paranormal, Scully's
scientific-based thinking and strict rationalism had saved Mulder's career, as
well as his life, countless times in the past. In addition to being his best
friend, Scully was the only person Mulder completely trusted. His eyes widened
in mock surprise, and a grin slowly began to creep across his face.
"Oh, I think you'll like where we're going, Scully," he
replied. "How about a nice, romantic vacation to beautiful Hawaii?" Scully
raised an eyebrow in obvious disbelief.
"You're putting me on."
"No. It's all in the folder." Mulder handed the case
file to her, and walked over to a slide projector on the far left wall and
switched it on, revealing a picture of a man, who was clearly dead. Dark spots
of blood stained his shirt, and his body was twisted in a way that looked as if
he had fallen from a great height. Mulder pointed to the screen where the image
was projected. "Roy Tanaka, age thirty-eight. See the way his body's
twisted? He fell about 800 feet from a place called the Pali Lookout, located
on the Pali Cliffs. It's a popular tourist spot. In 1795, King Kamehameha and
his army fought a battle up there against Kalanikupule - Oahu's chief - and his
forces. To win the fight, Kamehameha forced them off that very cliff to meet
their doom at the bottom."
Mulder turned to Scully, who was looking over the case file. She
glanced up from the folder when she realized her partner had stopped speaking.
She saw the familiar, expectant gleam in his eye.
Wanting to stop him before he got too full of himself, Scully
said, "He probably committed suicide. That's the most probable cause of
death."
"Then how do you explain this?" Mulder pushed a button
on the projector, and the picture changed. This time it showed Tanaka lying naked
on a silver autopsy table. Deep puncture wounds, at least ten of them, dotted
his upper chest and torso. Scully moved closer to the screen to get a better
view.
"I don't know," she answered, still staring at the
image. "They don't look like bullet holes. Looks like he was impaled by
something, but I'm at a loss as to what it was."
"There are thirteen puncture wounds on his body, all going
straight through. The autopsy results state that most likely he was shot with
arrows or spears, though no evidence or traces of metal or wood were found in
the wounds, and nothing was found at the crime scene." Mulder switched off
the slide projector and walked over to his desk.
"Better pack your bathing suit and suntan lotion," he
told his partner with a smile. "Our flight leaves in two hours. Our
destination: 'Paradise'. I'll meet you at your place in an hour." Mulder
picked up his jacket and briefcase, but not before grabbing another handful of
sunflower seeds. Putting the seeds in his pant's pocket, he moved toward the
door, saying jokingly, "Aloha, Scully."
