Title: In The End
Author: David William Cooper
E-Mail: Doctor_Hannibal_Lector@Hotmail.com
Rating: R
Category: Angst, X-File, Novel, End of The World, Crossover (X-Files/End of Days)
Keywords: Doggett/Reyes Relationship
Detication: To the lovely and talented Crystal who at the request is having me do this and I really don't mind, I have been lookin to try my hand at a Post Colonizational fic novel. To you, Crystal! To us...and our brilliant idea...I hope.
Summary: It is just a week away. The new Millennium. What surprises will it bring? One man, Jericho Cane has just that week to stop the Anti-Christ from taking over the world. But when the Agents of the X-Files get word, they rush out to see what the hell is going on. And in one week...it's the End of Days...
Feedback: Please...I love it.
Archive: Just ask.
Disclaimer: Nothing that is X-Files related is mine, it is the wonderful creations of Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions, anything outside that, is mine, and before you use my characters, please ask. Thank you, and thank you Carter for your wonderful characters to use. End of Days is not mine either and I just wish to borrow some stuff! So don't get mad!
***Author's Note: I have never done any "End of Days" fan fictions. I don't think I have even read any. But there is always a time to start, right? And I am doing this one for a very special person to me. She is one of my best friends. I've known her quite a while and I was asked to do this for her, but not as in detail as I have it. She said end of the world/post colonization. That is what I am doin, and I am hopin that she will like it. I don't know just yet. Hard to say, since at this point I am not really too far...well...just this...so...uh...anyway. This is a good change for me. End of the World seems like a lot of fun, don't it? Anyway, enjoy and here's to you, Crystal!***
Chapter Three
Good, Bad, I'm The Guy With The Gun
N.Y.P.D Headquarters
New York City
Thursday, December The Twenty Third
Jericho made his was slowly and gloomily to the doors of the twenty-third precinct. He hated going to work so late. It was already eight thirty and to him, eight thirty in the damn morning was too late to go to work. It was like getting laid at four in the morning. Who in the hell does that anymore? Really...the silver metal doors greeted him and Branis as they came up to them after they parked the Ford Mustang that Jericho drove, but allowed Branis to drive it today, since he wasn't in the best of moods. The area was coated with a light fluff of snow and the metal handle was cold against Jericho's warm skin. He shot back for a second, and then opened it. Phones rang, faxes buzzed and people talked as they entered, a normal working day. To his left was his desk, alone and dolor, to his right was the "Pen" as they called it, where they kept all the fucks that they'd cleaned off the street for holding until they could be later processed and directed to where they needed to be in the jail. He made his way to his desk, but was stopped when he saw Maria. He hadn't seen her in over a week and he was getting worried that she might not be all too well.
Maria was a two cent whore that had the serious hots out for Jericho. And he had the hots for her, but he always saw it wrong to date a Police Informant, as she liked to think of herself as. She was always helping him track down drugs and gun sales, and that was enough to merit her a place as a Police Informant. And in return for her service, Jericho would let her spend the night at his place or give her a share of the Pot and Blow that he'd collected on the busts. He always got away with it, and no one ever asked questions, since it was well known around there that you don't fuck with Jericho Cane. You did and you were either in Intensive Care or dead. Again, this was only since his old friend was killed by Rondell and he never forgave himself for letting him kill his brother. It was a thing that most cops in the area knew...and with New Year's coming...he was in an even worse mood then he normally was in. And as a rule of thumb, you don't fuck with him when he was in a bad mood. He sat down and twirled in his chair, and waited for Maria to come over and see him. Her six inch stiletto's made Jericho a little hot -- and the mini skirt she was wearing wasn't helping the matters much. She knew what he liked...and she knew how to turn him on. It didn't take too much to do that...especially when he was in a good mood.
"Hey Jerry."
"Hey Love."
"How's life?" she asked, sitting down.
"Good...can't really complain, how about yourself?"
"I'm okay, business is doing alright, but then again it is the slow time of the year and I won't get too much clientele around. Most are either too lazy or have to be with family outta state, but I do get the occasional drifter and I am making it. Cold as hell, though."
"I can imagine."
"Oh...yeah..." said Branis...trying to force himself to avoid getting a hard on from this bitch. And it was hard...really, really, really hard. And her breasts didn't help much either...the way they just sat there...for him to see...damn he wanted to fuck this woman and do it hard.
"Branis...could you leave us? This is a personal matter between me and Maria." said Jericho, knowing exactly what Branis meant when he said 'oh...yeah'...it wasn't too hard to tell with him as it was. His fuckin motto was "If it has tits or tires...I'm in love!". He even had a shirt that bragged that. It was sickening to Jericho because he was the kind of guy that didn't really give a damn about women much more. He would screw one if she was up for it, but he didn't invite unless it was asked for. And he never liked to go "lookin for the drunkest skirt in town". And there was plenty of them around. Hell, most of New York City was just that, drunk half-assed skirts who came from abused homes and drunken husbands that needed the cash so they worked as whores in the main streets and downtown. The idea bothered Jericho...some...but not enough to do anything about it unless Maria or one of her "sisters" were raped and then it was personal and the person that raped the woman would end up in the trash can the next morning.
"Sorry about that, what's bugging you?"
"My friend...he...he is dead."
"Who?"
"Davis. They found him in the ally way. Tongue cut out. All bloody. Somethin bout end of a thousand years has come...Jericho...I"m scared! They didn't even know it was him! I had to go in an ID him! Damnit! And it's a couple days till Christmas and I was gonna...oh I am sorry for being such a bitch, but he was just a close friend." she said, starting to cry. He didn't like that. It made him feel bad when he saw a woman that he cared for crying and he had to do something about it, so he hugged her.
"It'll be okay. Okay? I'll check it out, just me, and I will tell you what I find as soon as I find it, okay?" he said, reassuring her.
"Thank you."
"Welcome." said Jericho, sighing and grabbing his coat. He walked out of the office and to his car, not saying a word to anyone. He didn't have to. As soon as he got in his car, he headed off to go see Max. And Max was gonna tell him what he needed to know, or Max was going to end up with a little extra blood on his floor.
Main Street Ally
New York City
Thursday, December The Twenty Third
John and Monica pulled up to the crime scene and got out of their rental car. Some of the blood was still left and the familiar yellow crime scene tape was dressed around the area where the body was. It was evident that the officers who had to take care of his really didn't give a damn and it was on the lower priority list. The white outline of the victim painted the black pavement. Some of the snow that had fallen earlier could be seen off in the corner in small piles of brown and black and white mush. The smell of Death was strong and Monica held back for a moment. She wasn't all to willing to just dive in. John looked at her caringly and then went over and knelt down and touched the blood with his hand, and then quickly remembered that he needed a latex glove and headed back to the car to get it. Monica just stood there...looking at the spot where the man was. In all her years as a Ritualistic Crime Investigator she'd never seen such a horrid crime. She was over come by the urge to vomit, but she fought it off and watched as John went back to the crime scene.
When he got back to the crime scene he motioned for Monica to join him...and she did...slowly making sure she was ready and wasn't gonna just throw up all over and ruin the scene. She grabbed his hand and squeezed a little, and he turned to look at her, with once again, all too caring eyes. It was as if he wanted to say something to her, but couldn't -- again -- because he was too damn scared of rejection. She smiled and they went back to working. She knelt down next to him and waved her hand around before finally saying something.
"Looks like someone shot him. But it's hard to say, because there is no sign of gunpowder on the ground, and the way this damn scene looks it could be on the 'Worst Scene's For Crimes'...I mean, they did a shit-worth job on this. They left so much to be found and ruined by the damn snow." said Monica.
"Your right...but what about this?" said Doggett, approaching the writing that was on the wall. It was written in blood and could be clearly read. John looked at Monica, with questioning eyes, as she was the Religion Expert and he was just an agent who went to church on Sunday and prayed for his life everyday before work.
"What's this thousand years shit?"
"Satan. It is foretold that every one thousand years he will come to Earth to seek his love who is reincarnated and sent to Earth to be with him and usher us into the new Age of Hell. Unless a lone agent of Light or Angel can stop it. But he or she must be pure of Heart and Soul and must do it before the clock strikes midnight on New Years Day. If not, the world will come to an end as we know it and it will be Satan's rule. The End of Days." said Monica, leaning to her side and back. John looked at her with frightful eyes, not sure whether to ask if she was okay or if she was right. It was some seriously scary shit she just explained to him. He didn't like the sound of it and a fear washed over him.
"Uh huh. And this man believed that?" asked John, forcing himself to remain calm and not show that he was frightened.
"I would assume so..." said Monica, listening to the car that was passing by. It stopped and a man got out. He was rough and rugged looking, as if he hadn't shaved in weeks, had short black hair and stone eyes. His arms were those of a man who spent hours in the gym and was used to being in fights. He carried a gun on his hip and she guessed he was a police officer.
"Names Monica. You are?"
"Jericho Cane. NYPD. I was asked to come here for a close friend. What are you doing here?"
"We are FBI." said John, walking over and shaking Cane's hand. Jericho's shake was solid as his look. Monica moved out of his way and let him take a look at the wall covered in blood. He looked back and sighed.
"What is that?"
"We don't know, for sure...yet."
"Can't be good."
"No sir, it can't. And I have a very bad feeling that soon enough we will find out what the man who wrote that meant...I have this bad, bad, bad feeling..." said Monica walking over to stand next to Jericho and John who were entranced by the wall...the End of Days was coming and it would take no prisoners.
Author: David William Cooper
E-Mail: Doctor_Hannibal_Lector@Hotmail.com
Rating: R
Category: Angst, X-File, Novel, End of The World, Crossover (X-Files/End of Days)
Keywords: Doggett/Reyes Relationship
Detication: To the lovely and talented Crystal who at the request is having me do this and I really don't mind, I have been lookin to try my hand at a Post Colonizational fic novel. To you, Crystal! To us...and our brilliant idea...I hope.
Summary: It is just a week away. The new Millennium. What surprises will it bring? One man, Jericho Cane has just that week to stop the Anti-Christ from taking over the world. But when the Agents of the X-Files get word, they rush out to see what the hell is going on. And in one week...it's the End of Days...
Feedback: Please...I love it.
Archive: Just ask.
Disclaimer: Nothing that is X-Files related is mine, it is the wonderful creations of Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions, anything outside that, is mine, and before you use my characters, please ask. Thank you, and thank you Carter for your wonderful characters to use. End of Days is not mine either and I just wish to borrow some stuff! So don't get mad!
***Author's Note: I have never done any "End of Days" fan fictions. I don't think I have even read any. But there is always a time to start, right? And I am doing this one for a very special person to me. She is one of my best friends. I've known her quite a while and I was asked to do this for her, but not as in detail as I have it. She said end of the world/post colonization. That is what I am doin, and I am hopin that she will like it. I don't know just yet. Hard to say, since at this point I am not really too far...well...just this...so...uh...anyway. This is a good change for me. End of the World seems like a lot of fun, don't it? Anyway, enjoy and here's to you, Crystal!***
Chapter Three
Good, Bad, I'm The Guy With The Gun
N.Y.P.D Headquarters
New York City
Thursday, December The Twenty Third
Jericho made his was slowly and gloomily to the doors of the twenty-third precinct. He hated going to work so late. It was already eight thirty and to him, eight thirty in the damn morning was too late to go to work. It was like getting laid at four in the morning. Who in the hell does that anymore? Really...the silver metal doors greeted him and Branis as they came up to them after they parked the Ford Mustang that Jericho drove, but allowed Branis to drive it today, since he wasn't in the best of moods. The area was coated with a light fluff of snow and the metal handle was cold against Jericho's warm skin. He shot back for a second, and then opened it. Phones rang, faxes buzzed and people talked as they entered, a normal working day. To his left was his desk, alone and dolor, to his right was the "Pen" as they called it, where they kept all the fucks that they'd cleaned off the street for holding until they could be later processed and directed to where they needed to be in the jail. He made his way to his desk, but was stopped when he saw Maria. He hadn't seen her in over a week and he was getting worried that she might not be all too well.
Maria was a two cent whore that had the serious hots out for Jericho. And he had the hots for her, but he always saw it wrong to date a Police Informant, as she liked to think of herself as. She was always helping him track down drugs and gun sales, and that was enough to merit her a place as a Police Informant. And in return for her service, Jericho would let her spend the night at his place or give her a share of the Pot and Blow that he'd collected on the busts. He always got away with it, and no one ever asked questions, since it was well known around there that you don't fuck with Jericho Cane. You did and you were either in Intensive Care or dead. Again, this was only since his old friend was killed by Rondell and he never forgave himself for letting him kill his brother. It was a thing that most cops in the area knew...and with New Year's coming...he was in an even worse mood then he normally was in. And as a rule of thumb, you don't fuck with him when he was in a bad mood. He sat down and twirled in his chair, and waited for Maria to come over and see him. Her six inch stiletto's made Jericho a little hot -- and the mini skirt she was wearing wasn't helping the matters much. She knew what he liked...and she knew how to turn him on. It didn't take too much to do that...especially when he was in a good mood.
"Hey Jerry."
"Hey Love."
"How's life?" she asked, sitting down.
"Good...can't really complain, how about yourself?"
"I'm okay, business is doing alright, but then again it is the slow time of the year and I won't get too much clientele around. Most are either too lazy or have to be with family outta state, but I do get the occasional drifter and I am making it. Cold as hell, though."
"I can imagine."
"Oh...yeah..." said Branis...trying to force himself to avoid getting a hard on from this bitch. And it was hard...really, really, really hard. And her breasts didn't help much either...the way they just sat there...for him to see...damn he wanted to fuck this woman and do it hard.
"Branis...could you leave us? This is a personal matter between me and Maria." said Jericho, knowing exactly what Branis meant when he said 'oh...yeah'...it wasn't too hard to tell with him as it was. His fuckin motto was "If it has tits or tires...I'm in love!". He even had a shirt that bragged that. It was sickening to Jericho because he was the kind of guy that didn't really give a damn about women much more. He would screw one if she was up for it, but he didn't invite unless it was asked for. And he never liked to go "lookin for the drunkest skirt in town". And there was plenty of them around. Hell, most of New York City was just that, drunk half-assed skirts who came from abused homes and drunken husbands that needed the cash so they worked as whores in the main streets and downtown. The idea bothered Jericho...some...but not enough to do anything about it unless Maria or one of her "sisters" were raped and then it was personal and the person that raped the woman would end up in the trash can the next morning.
"Sorry about that, what's bugging you?"
"My friend...he...he is dead."
"Who?"
"Davis. They found him in the ally way. Tongue cut out. All bloody. Somethin bout end of a thousand years has come...Jericho...I"m scared! They didn't even know it was him! I had to go in an ID him! Damnit! And it's a couple days till Christmas and I was gonna...oh I am sorry for being such a bitch, but he was just a close friend." she said, starting to cry. He didn't like that. It made him feel bad when he saw a woman that he cared for crying and he had to do something about it, so he hugged her.
"It'll be okay. Okay? I'll check it out, just me, and I will tell you what I find as soon as I find it, okay?" he said, reassuring her.
"Thank you."
"Welcome." said Jericho, sighing and grabbing his coat. He walked out of the office and to his car, not saying a word to anyone. He didn't have to. As soon as he got in his car, he headed off to go see Max. And Max was gonna tell him what he needed to know, or Max was going to end up with a little extra blood on his floor.
Main Street Ally
New York City
Thursday, December The Twenty Third
John and Monica pulled up to the crime scene and got out of their rental car. Some of the blood was still left and the familiar yellow crime scene tape was dressed around the area where the body was. It was evident that the officers who had to take care of his really didn't give a damn and it was on the lower priority list. The white outline of the victim painted the black pavement. Some of the snow that had fallen earlier could be seen off in the corner in small piles of brown and black and white mush. The smell of Death was strong and Monica held back for a moment. She wasn't all to willing to just dive in. John looked at her caringly and then went over and knelt down and touched the blood with his hand, and then quickly remembered that he needed a latex glove and headed back to the car to get it. Monica just stood there...looking at the spot where the man was. In all her years as a Ritualistic Crime Investigator she'd never seen such a horrid crime. She was over come by the urge to vomit, but she fought it off and watched as John went back to the crime scene.
When he got back to the crime scene he motioned for Monica to join him...and she did...slowly making sure she was ready and wasn't gonna just throw up all over and ruin the scene. She grabbed his hand and squeezed a little, and he turned to look at her, with once again, all too caring eyes. It was as if he wanted to say something to her, but couldn't -- again -- because he was too damn scared of rejection. She smiled and they went back to working. She knelt down next to him and waved her hand around before finally saying something.
"Looks like someone shot him. But it's hard to say, because there is no sign of gunpowder on the ground, and the way this damn scene looks it could be on the 'Worst Scene's For Crimes'...I mean, they did a shit-worth job on this. They left so much to be found and ruined by the damn snow." said Monica.
"Your right...but what about this?" said Doggett, approaching the writing that was on the wall. It was written in blood and could be clearly read. John looked at Monica, with questioning eyes, as she was the Religion Expert and he was just an agent who went to church on Sunday and prayed for his life everyday before work.
"What's this thousand years shit?"
"Satan. It is foretold that every one thousand years he will come to Earth to seek his love who is reincarnated and sent to Earth to be with him and usher us into the new Age of Hell. Unless a lone agent of Light or Angel can stop it. But he or she must be pure of Heart and Soul and must do it before the clock strikes midnight on New Years Day. If not, the world will come to an end as we know it and it will be Satan's rule. The End of Days." said Monica, leaning to her side and back. John looked at her with frightful eyes, not sure whether to ask if she was okay or if she was right. It was some seriously scary shit she just explained to him. He didn't like the sound of it and a fear washed over him.
"Uh huh. And this man believed that?" asked John, forcing himself to remain calm and not show that he was frightened.
"I would assume so..." said Monica, listening to the car that was passing by. It stopped and a man got out. He was rough and rugged looking, as if he hadn't shaved in weeks, had short black hair and stone eyes. His arms were those of a man who spent hours in the gym and was used to being in fights. He carried a gun on his hip and she guessed he was a police officer.
"Names Monica. You are?"
"Jericho Cane. NYPD. I was asked to come here for a close friend. What are you doing here?"
"We are FBI." said John, walking over and shaking Cane's hand. Jericho's shake was solid as his look. Monica moved out of his way and let him take a look at the wall covered in blood. He looked back and sighed.
"What is that?"
"We don't know, for sure...yet."
"Can't be good."
"No sir, it can't. And I have a very bad feeling that soon enough we will find out what the man who wrote that meant...I have this bad, bad, bad feeling..." said Monica walking over to stand next to Jericho and John who were entranced by the wall...the End of Days was coming and it would take no prisoners.