Third Wheel II--- Deathfetch
by DavidB226Morris
Classification: Ordinary XF
Rating: PG (some graphic content but nothing to get upset about, Scullyangst)
Spoilers: Arcadia
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to Chris Carter and 1013Productions. The
character of Daniel Torrance originates with Stephen King, but I doubt that he
would recognize this version of him.
Summary: The newly assembled X-Files team goes on their first case as a unit:
investigating the death of an anthropology professor with a background in
mysticism.
Feedback: Welcome at DavidB226Morris@aol.com
Author's Notes: This story takes place during the supposed 'rift' in the
Mulder/Scully relationship in Season 6. Don't worry, there is a method to the
madness. Much of the inspiration for this story came from Darrell
Schweitzer's short story 'The Adventure of the Death Fetch
WILMINGTON,DELAWARE
MARCH 11,1999
10:47 A.M.
The smell was awful.
Of all the phrases that Special Agent Dana Scully could think of to describe the
location of their latest investigation, that phrase seemed to sum it up most
accurately. The place stunk.
This phrase, while it happened to be completely accurate, was not totally
descriptive of their current situation. After all, she was standing in the
bathroom of the house, a location that could hardly be expected to smell the
sweetest. Furthermore, this was the room where a man's corpse had been found
less than twenty four hours ago, so the location could be expected to give a
particularly unpleasant odor.
Yet that was not what disturbed her about the scene. As a forensic pathologist,
she was expected to and had come into contact with the dead under many
unpleasant circumstances. Furthermore, in more than five years of working on
the X-Files, she had encountered so many odd configurations of dead bodies that
this particular location should not normally have even registered on her radar
of' unusual'
No, what troubled here was not the presence of death. Rather it was the fact
that after more than a day, the smell of decay and rot lingered so
unpleasantly. Indeed, when she had first entered the house of Professor Ernest
Jacobson, she had come to the erroneous conclusion that the corpse was still in
the house. Not that anyone could have blamed her for making such a judgment
with the rank smell still present.
Internally, she gathered herself. There was no point in focusing on it. The
crime scene was here, she was going to have to deal with it. In any event after
being around death if so many forms, she had realized that it wasn't that
difficult to get used to it.
Her partner, Fox Mulder, entered the room. Though he was usually more
uncomfortable around the dead than she was, he showed no signs of paleness or
weak stomach.
"Honestly, Mulder, you always take me to the nicest places." said
Scully lightly." If it's not crawling through sewers to investigate
Flukemen or climbing through forests to search for invisible creatures, it's
looking at the toilets of college professors."
"Not just any college professor." As always, Mulder seemed a bit
relieved to get off the subject of their immediate surroundings. "Ernest
Jacobson was one of the leading professors in the field of anthropology. He is
the author of several treatises on ancient Chinese and Indian cultures. His
book on the ancient tribal rituals of Northwest Asia is
considered the tops in his field. "
"And he ends up dead with his throat cut in his home because?"
"Some kid was really upset with his final exam?"
Scully rolled her eyes. There was just no putting up with Mulder sometimes.
"Where's Agent Torrance?", Scully asked
"He's downstairs talking with the police."
Though neither agent was willing to discuss it, Mulder and Scully were both
curious to see how their new colleague would handle himself when working on an
X-File. He had only been assigned to their unit for three weeks, and he had not
yet officially worked on a case with them. In their first assignment back at
the X-Files, Mulder and Scully had worked undercover as a husband and wife at a
housing project and Torrance had been something of a persona non grata, helping
the two agents move their stuff into the house. Though the two agents had been
involved in a couple of other unofficial 'cases' since then, this was the first
time that the three agents had been assigned to a single case as a unit.
As though their thoughts had summoned him, Special Agent Daniel Torrance
appeared in the doorway.
"Can we talk somewhere?"
The other two agents looked at each other. "You have a preference?"
said Scully.
"Hey, I don't care where just as long as it's away from that
smell."
"Hard to argue with that." The two agents walked out of the bathroom,
Mulder's hand discreetly moving to the small in Scully's back as they left.
"It doesn't look like this anything was stolen." said Torrance,
pulling out a notebook. "Jacobson's wallet was on his nightstand. No
jewelry or stuff to speak of."
"One of the uniforms mentioned a wall safe." said Scully.
Torrance shook his head. "Still locked when we came here. The police
managed to open it. Cash and Krugerrands that he collected seem to be all
present and accounted for. "
"Who found the body?" asked Mulder.
"Cleaning woman named Angela Ralston. Miss Ralston claims that she came
here yesterday at 8:30 as she has every Thursday. The minute she got in the
house she noticed the smell and went upstairs and found Jacobson dead in his
bathroom. "
"Does Miss Ralston have anyone who can verify her story?"
"Doesn't need anyone to. The house is wired with security cameras."
said Mulder.
"How do you know that?" asked Torrance.
Mulder didn't answer but instead pointed to the wall across from them. A small,
unobtrusive camera lens answered Torrance's question.
Torrance's face grew red, but he gamely went on. "There is no sign of
forced entry and according to Miss Ralston, the door was locked when she got
here."
"Which begs the question, how did our killer come in and how did he
leave?"
asked Scully
"It also begs the question: what the heck are we doing here? Rob, Laura,
any comment?"
Mulder internally winced. Ever since he and Scully had done their undercover
assignment, Torrance had been quietly mocking them about it. "You know, it
was funny the first few times, but now it's starting to get tired."
"Fine, but one last thing; if by any chance the three of us have to work
undercover, I'm picking the names." Torrance paused and then smiled
a little." So, I repeat: why is this case file different from other case
files?"
"I didn't know you were Jewish." said Mulder
"I'm not, but since I am the youngest person here I figured I should be
the one to ask." Torrance got serious. "So what's your theory?"
Mulder looked blank. "What do you mean?"
"The killer got in the house because he has the power to walk through
walls? The murderer is a mutant who crawled up through the drainpipe? What
makes this case an X-File?"
Mulder paused, then gave one of his trademark smiles. "Right this
way.", he said and walked into the Jacobson living room.
Scully silently rolled her eyes. Mulder could never simply tell anyone what it
was that drew him to a crime scene. He always had to make a big production
number out of it. At least he hadn't brought his slide projector with him.
In the living room, Mulder walked towards Jacobson's television---- one which
had been fitted with a VCR.
"The first thing that the police did when they got here was check with the
home security company to see if they had picked up any record of any intruders
at Jacobson's house. The security company checked their files and said
they had picked
up evidence of a trespasser but they assumed it was a glitch in the
camera." Mulder produced a videotape and put it in the machine.
Scully and Torrance both watched the television with more than a little
curiosity.
The tape showed the hallway at 11:35 the previous night, according to the
timecode. The front door opened and a middle-aged man entered house. No one
needed to be told that the man in the videotape was Professor Jacobson.
Jacobson then proceeded to lock the door behind him and then walked up the
stairs. The camera then cut to the upstairs hallway where Jacobson walked into
his bathroom.
"I don't see the point of all this." said Torrance
"Keep watching. We're coming to the good part." said Mulder
For three minutes the camera showed an empty hallway. Then suddenly another man
appeared in the periphery of the camera. He was dressed for the outside in a
heavy coat. He moved swiftly towards the bathroom door. Just as it reached the
door, the figure turned and looked directly at the camera.
The face was clearly that of Ernest Jacobson.
Before any of the agents could remark on this strange turn of events, something
even odder happened. The figure disappeared suddenly. Then a horrible,
bloodcurdling scream rang out from the television. At this point, Mulder
stopped the tape.
"It's not a mutant in the toilet, but it's strange enough for me."
"Is there any chance that tape has been tampered with?" asked Scully.
Mulder shook his head. "I talked with one of the video experts. What you sees
what you get."
"And what do you think we have?"
Mulder opened his mouth to begin his lecture, then stopped. "You all
right, Torrance?"
Torrance had gone slightly pale after seeing the videotape. His young-old eyes
had grown wide as if he had recognized something beyond what Mulder and Scully
had seen. He managed to gather his self-control after a moment. "I'm
sorry, I just...felt a goose walk over my grave, that's all."
Neither Mulder nor Scully quite believed him, but they both made a mental
decision too not deal with the problem right away. Scully again asked Mulder
what he had thought we had.
"In superstition of many cultures," began Mulder again "it is
believed that a man who is about to die may encounter his spirit likeness. The
Germans refer to this likeness as a doppelganger; other cultures like those in
India and the Far East call it the death-fetch. These apparitions are held as
dire portents if you see them, and if you are touched by this figure, you will
supposedly meet an instant death."
Scully shook her head. "Are you telling me that you think a ghost killed
Jacobson?"
"It's as good as any other explanation for what we saw on that tape."
"Mulder, it is far more likely that someone disguised himself as Jacobson
in order to fool the camera and somehow tampered with the tape to make it seem
like he ......"
"Vanished into thin air?" said Mulder wryly.
"Mulder, ghosts do not exist, and they do not kill people."
Mulder was about to open his mouth when he suddenly got support from an
unexpected source.
"First of all, he didn't say it was a ghost. He said that it was a death
fetch. I'm not entirely clear what the difference is, but I believe that there
is a substantial one. Second of all, ghost may not be able to kill people, but
there is direct evidence that they can cause harm to befall others."
Scully looked at Daniel Torrance with a look that was equal parts shock and
astonishment. This was the first time that he had come to the scene of an
X-File and already he was debating with Scully like he had been dealing with
the supernatural all his life. Great , she thought sourly, now I have
to deal with two of them.
"On what are you basing your information?" She spoke to both
agents but it was clear that she was talking to Torrance.
"From your own cases. " Scully was surprised; she didn't think that
anyone besides Mulder had ever looked at the mish-mash filing systems that the
basement office held.
Noting Scully's look of astonishment, Torrance gave a small grin. "Hey, I
had to-do something to keep myself occupied while the two of you were playing
house."
He got serious once again. "Look, I'm not saying that Mulder's right
and that this deathfetch or whatever killed Jacobson. But looking at this as an
impartial observer, I find equally hard to believe that this was done by an
ordinary man."
"Men are capable of gruesome things."
"Yeah?" Mulder had that look in his eye. "How many criminals do
you know who have the power to enter a house, stab and dismember a college
professor without having him put up any sort of struggle or noise, and then
just disappear without leaving a trace?"
Torrance looked at his notes and nodded. "The cops have found no signs of
any foreign fingerprints or any hair or blood from anybody but Jacobson."
He then looked at Mulder. "If what you say is true, who do you think
killed him? I assume that these spirit likenesses don't just show up on their
own."
Mulder nodded. "According to Eastern legend, there are certain priests who
have the power to raise these images."
"Like the Voodoo shamans of the Caribbean?" Torrance asked
"Yes, but these priest----the Chan-Tzo --- are considered far more
powerful then those who practice Voodoo. According to the legend, the ability
to raise the dead is one of the relatively minor powers that they
control."
"And where do we find this Chan-Tzo?"
"According to the writings on them, they live in the Plains of Leng
somewhere near northwest Tibet."
"Which is where Professor Jacobson traveled when he was gathering material
for his writing." said Scully thoughtfully.
"And that is why I think we should have a talk with some of the people
that Jacobson worked with when he did that research" said Mulder. He
headed towards the door, Torrance close at his heels. "You coming,
Scully?"
Scully hesitated. It was rare for Mulder to ask her if she wanted to come with
him on one of his "fishing expeditions" But she didn't think that she
had the strength to handle going with him listening to a complete lecture on
the rites and practices of the Chan-Tzo.
"I'm going to the coroners. See if the autopsy on Jacobson shows us
anything."
Go ahead, the voice inside her said. Hide behind your medicine.
Pretend that everything is rational and ordinary. Science is right; Mulder's
wrong. She hushed the voice and it shut up.
Mulder shrugged. "Your loss." He and Torrance left. As they went
outside, Scully heard Torrance ask Mulder: "If this deathfetch thing
really did kill Jacobson, shouldn't we tell the M.E. that they should
rule it a suicide?"
Mulder paused. "You'd better watch out Torrance, I think that I am
starting to rub off on you."
WILMINGTON MORGUE
5:34 P.M.
Scully removed her gloves and gave an exhausted sigh. It had been a long
day.
Normally, she did not greatly object to being left behind to do the autopsies
that Mulder usually made her do. It helped her escape from the madness that was
the world of the X-Files into the sanity that was the world of forensic
science.
The autopsy of Ernest Jacobson, however, was the exception to the rule. She had
known that it was going to be messy--- one can not do an orderly examination on
the body of a man who has been severely mutilated without having forensic
difficulties--- but she did not expect to find what she did, or as was the case
of Mr. Jacobson, what was missing.
"Tough one?" Scully looked up. It was Torrance. Alone.
"Where's Mulder?" Even as she asked, she had a vague idea what had
happened.
"He went down to Goldley Beacom to see if he could dig up some information
on the history of Professor Jacobson. Asked if I wouldn't mind getting the details
of Jacobson's autopsy."
"And you said yes." Scully had difficulty restraining a smile.
Torrance noticed it.
"Am I missing something here?"
"Welcome to the club. You have just received your first Mulder
ditch."
"Excuse me?"
"Every time Mulder and I look at a case, he asks me to stay behind---do an
autopsy, talk to witnesses, whatever--- then he goes off by himself to
investigate some wild theory that he has about the case. He always gets into
some kind of trouble and I always have to bail him out."
Though she had tried to sound amused, Torrance detected the presence of
something else in her tone. For a moment, he paused considering the pros and
cons of talking about personal matters with people that he hadn't known for
that long.
One of the drawbacks of his 'gift' was that he was aware of particularly strong
emotions felt by relative strangers. Right now, he was sensing that Agent
Scully felt some very deep emotions towards her partner, and one of them was
resentment. Not because of anything Mulder had done towards her, but something
he had done for someone else---- some woman that Scully thought of as
"that dark-haired bitch"
He supposed that he could look closer into the female agents mind, but he
didn't like doing that--- he thought of it as peeking. It would be better
to make a vague suggestion and then lead the conversation in a direction that
would end unrevealing the truth to both him and Agent Scully.
"So what's the deal with you and Agent Mulder?"
Scully was flummoxed. No one ever directly asked her about her
relationship with her partner. Even her mother knew better than to ask her
about their relationship. It was understood that she and Mulder were only
partners. To assume anything else was to violate the well established
boundaries that she had laid out. That was the story that she had told herself
and that was what everyone else agreed too.
But Daniel Torrance either hadn't been around long enough to learn these rules
or else knew them and was setting them aside.
"Agent Mulder and I are partners. That is all we are."
Realizing that he had stepped over some imaginary line with her, Torrance tried
to backtrack. "Look, I didn't mean to insinuate anything by asking you
that. Understand that the two of you are professionals. It's just
that...." He trailed off, unsure of how to proceed.
"Just what?"
In for a penny, in for a pound thought Torrance. "Ever since I
started working here the two of you have been acting like you don't... like
each other."
Now Scully was truly flabbergasted. She had thought things had been fine
between her and Mulder. It not taken them long to fall back into their old
patterns working cases---- he taking the role of a wild believer, her being the
rational skeptical one. Everything had been going normally.
Or had it? Scully found her mind going back to the events before El Rico.
She had gotten the Gunmen to gather information on Diana Fowley and she had
tried to prove that the woman that Mulder put such faith in could not betrusted.Mulder had stubbornly remained loyal to the idea
of her trustworthinesseven though the evidence
strongly suggested otherwise. The situation had been asclose
to an actual fight that she and Mulder had ever had in all of their years ofworking together.
When they had been reassigned to the X-Files, she had thought that they hadput the unpleasantness behind them. But it suddenly
occurred to her that they haddone nothing to resolve
the situation. Like so many other things in the course oftheir
partnership, it had been tabled for a later discussion, and the subject had notcome up again. But it was still there And the hostility
that she and Mulder hadworked up between them over
this issue was apparently evident--- obvious enoughfor
a relative stranger to have picked up on it.
"Look if this awkwardness between the two of you is there because of me,
let metransfer out."
Scully was surprised--- and a little moved--- at Torrance's eagerness to repair
thesituation that had arisen between the two of them.
"This has nothing to do with you, Agent Torrance. This is something thatMulder and I have to work out for ourselves."
Torrance looked at her and shrugged. Apparently, he had touched on a subjectwhich was very sensitive to his partners character.
Maybe later he could get the twoof them talk about
their problems,but now was not the time for it to be
dealt with.
"What happened to Mr. Jacobson?" he asked.
Scully looked at her notes, glad that the conversation was no longer dealingwith her partner. "This is a real case of
overkill. Death was caused by extremetrauma to the skull
from some kind of blunt instrument. I couldn't tell you to amedical
certainty what it was."
Torrance seemed a bit surprised. "I thought his throat was cut."
Scully nodded. "Ear to ear. I believe however that it was done
post-mortem. Thekiller also committed a number of
other injuries to the body after he killed him. Hetore
most of the flesh away from the skin and managed to carve something into thebare bone of the forehead."
Torrance looked a little revolted. "Talk about insult to injury. You have
any ideawhat these symbols mean?"
Scully shook her head. "They're not Chinese or Japanese. I sent a photo to
thebureau and asked if they could find some way of
translating them."
"So what do you think happened?"
Scully pondered the question. "The murder was committed in a very ritualisticfashion. Given that and the carving on the
forehead, I believe that this wascommitted by an
Oriental cult that Mr. Jacobson may have encountered in histravels
in the Far East. A member of this cult disguised himself as the Professor inorder to mislead the security cameras and the
investigators, caught Jacobson offguards and killed
him."
"And the carving on the forehead?" asked Torrance.
"A warning to others."
"Well, that explanation would probably satisfy the bureau."
"But you don't agree with it?
"Well, who are you trying to convince with this story. Me? Agent Mulder?Yourself?"
Scully could have lived without Torrance's observations being so accurate.
She was about to make a remark to that effect when her cell phone rang.
"Scully, its me."
"What did you find at the professors office, Mulder?"
" Do you have any idea what the lettering on Professor Jacobson's forehead
is?"
Scully wasn't sure where this conversation was going, but she decided to playalong. "All I can tell you for certain is that the
language is Asian."
"Could it possibly be Burmese?"
"I don't know, Mulder; I failed Oriental dialects in college."
Mulder ignored the strained witticism. "I just ran into one of Jacobson'scolleagues, Professor Stanley Nessen.
According to him, the week before he diedJacobson
began to receive a series of letters that alarmed him."
"What did they say?"
" I don't know. Apparently they were written in some kind of foreign dialect.Professor Nessen says
that its Burmese, but he doesn't know the language wellenough
to provide a translation, I couldn't say for a certainty, but the dialect in theletters resembles what was carved on Jacobson's
forehead"
"Mulder, do you have any idea what this is about?"
"Jacobson spent most of his career investigating the distant past. Maybesomething from that far back finally caught up with
him."
FBI CRIME LAB
ALEXANDRIA,VIRGINIA
4:02 P.M.
"Interesting specimen you provided us with." Professor Nen looked at the threeagents.
"It's Burmese? " asked Mulder.
"Yes but not just Burmese. This is an archaic form that was most often
used bycriminals in the Far East. It's so out of date
I doubt that there are barely a hundredpeople in the
world who still use it. No one in the Bureau is as expert on it; we hadto get three different translators in order to get a
complete translation."
"What does it say?" asked Torrance.
Nen hesitated.
"It seems that someone went to an awful lot of trouble to send this
letter, but thewriting is that of a madman. The
author indicates that the author indicates that heis
dead and has been for several years."
"Does it say how he died? " asked Mulder.
"That's even more odd. He claims that the priests of the Chan-Tzo murderedhim, but first they performed acts of horrible
torture on him. The authors says thatthey finally
killed him and that they brought him back to life as a--- corpse man---what we
would call a zombie. And that he has come back to bring about retributionupon those who have wronged him. It's absurd, of
course."
"Have you ever heard of the Chan-Tzo, Professor?"
"My grandfather used to tell me frightening stories about them. He said
that inthe distant past, the Chan-Tzo were the most
powerful magicians that ever existed.Supposedly they
had the power to bring the dead back to life and the ability tocontrol these demons as their slaves. Ridiculous, but it
scared the heck out of a nineyear old."
"Do you have any idea who wrote this message?" asked Scully.
"The writer never directly identifies himself. The closest he ever comes todoing so is this phrase here. It roughly translates to
'the one you left behind'Handwriting analysis doesn't
match with any known criminal, either here orabroad."
"Can you get anything from the paper?"
"Its an old Oriental rice-paper. No watermarks or anything else that we coulduse to trace it. "
"Is there anything you can tell us?" A hint of exasperation showed
itself inTorrance's voice. "A hunch, a guess as
to what this writer wanted?"
"There is something in this last passage. The authors says that he 'will
deal withyou and all the others who betrayed me.'
"So maybe our guy is going to kill again." said Torrance
thoughtfully.
"Maybe he already has.", said Mulder. "What about the letters
that were carvedinto Jacobson's forehead?"
"They're similar to the writing that was in the letter. There isn't a
proper Englishphrase but they directly translate to:
the closest we can make it out to be 'JusticeRevenge."
As they left the crime lab, Mulder pulled out another document. "I justreceived this from the teletype. Five days ago, a French
professor of archeologynamed Armand Pujois was found dead in his bedroom. His throat had been cutfrom ear to ear and his body was horribly mutilated.
"
"Any connection between Pujois and
Jacobson?" asked Torrance.
" Ten years ago Pujois spent three months in
America collaborating with aGoldley Beacom professor on the mythology of the Soul Eaters."
said Mulder.
"Jacobson?" asked Scully.
"Professor Stanley Nessen."
FAIRFAX
7:23 P.M.
A middle aged woman opened the door of the home of Professor StanleyNessen.
"Excuse me is Professor Nessen in?" asked
Mulder
"I'm his wife; what is going on here? "
"Can we speak your husband?" inquired Scully.
Mrs. Nessen hesitated for a moment and then gestured
for them to come in.
"Is this about Ernest?"
"Mrs. Nessen, in the past week two people who
your husband were familiar withhave met unnatural and
brutal ends." said Torrance.
"You don't think that my husband...No, its not possible. He couldn't
have."
"Why not?"
"Because in the last five days my husband has not left this house."
Mulder and Scully looked at each other. Torrance hadn't known the agents forthat long, but he had a good idea as to what it meant.
Something spooky wasunderneath this story.
"Are you sure? " asked Mulder.
"This past week has been a nightmare. He has canceled all his classes, herefuses to leave his study, but that's not the worst of
it. I think he is going mad."
"What makes you think that?" asked Scully. Torrance could tell that
she wasswitching from FBI agent to medico.
"He has removed all the mirrors and reflected surfaces from the house. Hesmashed the screen to his computer, he's boarded up the
windows, he won't eveneat with silverware. He won't
give any explanation."
Before anyone could even proffer a hypothesis as to what was happening,, ahusky voice thundered from upstairs. "Linda, who's in
the house?"
Mulder headed towards the landing. "Professor Nessen?
My name is AgentMulder. I'm with the FBI. I'd like to
have a talk with you." He began to make hisway
upstairs, Scully and Torrance close behind him.
There was a long pause. "How do I know you are who you say you are?"
"Open the door. I'll show you my badge."
"Absolutely not. Slide your badge under the door."
Mulder paused for a moment looked at Scully. Some signal passed betweenthem, before Mulder got to
his knees , took his badge out of his pocket and slid itinto
the gap between the door of the study and the floor.
There was another long pause before the door opened with the click of a lockbeing undone. Standing there was Stanley Nessen. He was an ordinary lookingman,
shorter than Mulder with thin graying hair, a modest athletic build, and darkeyes hidden beneath dark glasses. Under normal
circumstances he would have beenthe perfect model for
the typical academic. However, there was a certain level offrantic
nervousness in Nessen's eyes, an impression that was
made doublyunnerving by the growth of stubble on his
face. It was evident that something hadthrown the
fear of God into Nessen.
"I may be crazy to do this, but the fact is I can't spend my entire life lockedinside."
Mulder hesitated before speaking to him, as if he
knew what question hewanted to ask him first but was
afraid as to what the answer might be. Finally, heplunged
ahead. "Mr. Nessen, have we ever met
before?"
"Of course not."
"We didn't speak about the death of Ernest Jacobson?" Mulder was becomingmore puzzled and alarmed.
Upon hearing this, Nessen's face showed a certain
amount of concern. "Ernestis dead?" Mulder nodded. "I knew this would happen. I tried to
warn him,but hewas convinced
that it was impossible that he would be back."
"Then you know who killed him?" Scully was determined to keep thisconversation on a rational plane.
"Of course I do. I've known for a week who is responsible. "
"Why didn't you go to the police then?"
Nessen barked a laugh. "Because if it is who I
think and if he can do half ofwhat he says he can do,
there isn't a safe place in the world for me to hide."
"Professor, I think you had better explain to us just what this is all
about. "When Nessen hesitated, Mulder added:
"It may be the only way that we can saveyou."
Nessen paused for a moment before beginning to speak.
"Twenty years ago, I was going to college in Paris. There I met Armand Pujois.He had a great interest in the mysteries of the
East, particularly of the unexploredregions of Tibet,
an area which after hundreds of years had been explored by fewmen.
Pujois was convinced that great wealth and fame
awaited those who had thefortitude to explore the
great unknown. He convinced me, Jacobson, and half adozen
other people to put up the money for an exploration in search of the Plateauof Leng. What I didn't know until after we had begun
the journey was that in orderto raise the appropriate
funds, Pujois had corresponded with several knowncriminals and that one particularly vicious one named
Victor Javert was toaccompany
us."
"When we arrived in Rangoon to begin our journey in earnest, Pujoisrevealed that he had a map written in an obscure
Burmese dialect that wouldsupposedly lead us to the
Chan-Tzo. He and Jacobson were the only ones who couldread,
so they were put in charge of the expedition. However, after we set out, Javertmade it clear that he was in charge. He kept the
ammunition and the supplies andhe made it quite clear
that he would decide what we did on this voyage."
"The trip was a disaster. Much of our supplies either went bad or disappeared.We all suffered from the climate. Many of the
native guides we hired misled us.
Then as we started to explored the jungles, members of our expedition began to diein suspicious accidents or diseases that could of been
poisoning . We suspectedJavert, but we could prove
nothing."
"Finally after the fourth man died, we told Javert
that we would not travel anyfurther. He pulled a gun
on me and ordered us to give him a translation of themap..
The others agree, and when Javert was satisfied , he
took the map and all thesupplies that we had left and
left the remainder of us to our fate in the jungle.
We wandered hopelessly after that for several days until by sheer luck, we stumbledinto the camp of some nomads who managed to lead us
back into the Chineseprovinces."
Nessen paused.
"After that failed expedition, the three of us vowed to live far more sane
lives.
We thought that Javert had perished, and none of the
people who financed theexpedition seemed content to
leave him to rest in peace. Until two weeks ago, weall
thought that we were safe."
"But then you started to receive letters from Javert."
said Mulder.
Nessen nodded. "In his communications, Javert claims that he reached thePlains
of Leng. There the sub-human priests of the Chan-Tzo murdered him afterwhat may have been years of indescribable tortures,
and then brought him back tosome kind of half- alive
form as a hideously disfigured zombie. According to theseletters,
he is driven by both the will of his masters and his own desire for revengeon those who he believe betrayed him. He knows all
the secrets of the Chan-Tzopriests and he will not
hesitate to use them against me."
"At first, I thought he had to be lying, even after I learned of Armand Pujois'death. Then, five days ago while I was shaving, I
saw a second image appear in themirror, as if an
exact duplicate of myself was looking over my shoulder . I turnedaround
and slashed it with my razor blade. It disappeared like a soap bubble. I triedto tell myself that it was a hallucination, but that
became harder for me to believewhen I saw it three
more times. Then I had the sense to remove all the mirrors andreflective
surface from the room. I am sure that is how it gets in, Agent
Mulder."
"Mulder, you're not taking what this man says seriously" asked
Scully.
"Why not? Its the only realistic explanation for what's happening."
"I can think of a far simpler one. Javert
somehow managed to survive beingabandoned in the
Tibetan jungles and has come back to seek revenge on the peoplewho
tried to kill him."
"And how do you explain how he managed to enter the houses of both hisvictims without being seen? How do you explain that he
hasn't managed to leave atrace of being present?
"
"Mulder, you don't have to be Houdini to enter a house without a sign, andyou don't have to be Jack The Ripper to commit such a
brutal murder withoutleaving any evidence."
Mulder turned from Scully to Torrance. "Do you have any opinion?"
"It seems to me that the two of you are in agreement as to what's
happening. Itsthis fellow Javert
who is behind all this. You just don't seem able to agree onwhether
he is alive or dead."
"What do you think?"
"Doesn't matter." Mulder and Scully both looked at him in surprise.
" If he'sreally behind this, we have to stop
him. I imagine that it will be easier to do so if heis
alive, but it really doesn't matter. WE have to stop him somehow."
Mulder and Scully shared another look. This one said that they would be willingto set aside the process of hashing out who was
right until after the current crisishad passed.
"Scully, you and Torrance stay here and guard Professor Nessen. "
"What are you going to do, Mulder?"
"I'm going to search for Javert. If he's really
still stalking him, he's got to benearby." Mulder made to leave, but Torrance put his hand on his
shoulder.
"Oh, no you don't.You've already abandoned us
once during this case.Now,you think you're going to
leave us to go ghost-busting. I'm coming with you."
"That's OK, I can--"
"No it's not. I've been assigned to work with you, and I'm going to do
it."
Mulder looked at Scully with a mixture of concern and amusement.
"Fine. Torrance, lets go."
As the two male agents headed downstairs Torrance turned to Mulder."There's
still one thing I don't understand. Nessen said he
hasn't left home in thepast five days,but
you talked with him yesterday. How is that possible? "
"I don't think I talked to him at all." said Mulder. "I think
that I talked to ataelus." When
Torrance looked at him confusedly, he explained. "A taelus
is anevil magic spirit that can assume the shapes
of any one a person thinks of."
"Let me guess, the Chan-Tzo are adept at summoning these demons,
too."
When Mulder nodded, Torrance asked: "But what purpose would it be to send animage of Professor Nessen at Goldley Beacom. Javert surely must have known thathe
wouldn't find anything about Nessen there."
"I don't think it was sent there to learn about Nessen.
I think that Javert sentit
to gather information about me."
"You?"
"And the others who are investigating this case. I think he wanted to
learn allhe could about us."
"Why?"
Before Mulder could answer, they heard a woman scream. Mulder preparedto dash upstairs , but Torrance stopped him.
"That scream came from down here."
Drawing their guns, the two agents fast walked into the kitchen. When Torrancesaw what awaited them in that room, he could not
stop a gasp of horror fromcoming out of his mouth.
Linda Nessen had apparently been attempting to keep
herself busy by washingthe dishes in the sink. And
despite the fact that her body had been horriblymutilated
in a manner very similar to Ernest Jacobson, from a distance it still lookedlike she was standing over the sink washing the
dishes.
For a moment, Torrance was at a complete loss for words. Then he managedto gather himself together and say : "But
how--how?"
In answer, Mulder reached into the sink and pulled out a plate. It was evidentthat it had been cleaned and polished so that a
person could look into it and see onesreflection. The
inference was clear.
Torrance paused for a moment. "Mulder, do you have any idea how we canfight this thing?"
Mulder looked at Torrance grimly. "There might be a way but we have to findhim". He stood up. "And it doesn't look like
we'll have to go very far". Mulderpounted
towards the window over the sink. Outsid Torrance
could see a pair ofburning red eyes.
Torrance followed Mulder outside the house, wondering what fresh horrors hewas going to have to face.
Scully was on full alert, realizing that Nessen was
probably at a great risk. Shehad heard the scream and
had been about to head downstairs when he stopped her breaching his hand to her
arm.
"That was Linda?
As Torrance followed Mulder behind the house, he could see a vaguelyhuman figure standing in the bushes. Instinctively
he knew that here they wouldfind the source of the
violence that they had been tracking.
"Nicholas Javert!" yelled Mulder.
"Come out with your hands up."
The figure in the bushes paused for a mment, seemed
to hesitate, and thenlaughing stepped forward.
Torrance could not stand the sound of that laughter. Itcrawled
over his skin like the sound of breaking glass.
Then he saw the figure and it took his breath away.
The figure was in the shape of a man, but it could only be considered a humanbeing in the loosest possible sense of the word. The
skin was gone from his face,showing a horrible skull.
His eyes lay sunken into the remnantsof his head. Hisnose wasgone. His mouth held
teeth that were horribly deformed and stained ablackish
gray. There was a gaping hole in the cavity of his chest right over wherehis heart should have been. In its place, Torrance
could see a bright roaring fire. Hishands were held
out in front of his body. In them was a statue of some kind.Torrance
could see it very clearly as the fire from the mans chests gave out a brightglow. It appeared to be a small dog with the wings of
a bat carved out of jade.
Torrance's hands began to shake uncontrollably and he nearly dropped hisgun.Though Mulder gave no sign
of it, Torrance could tell that he was shaken uptoo.
"Raise your arms and put the idol down."
The figure laughed its horrible chuckle again and began to chant in a sinistersounding foreign tongue.
Scully couldn't believe what she was seeing. She wanted to blink but she wasafraid that if she did what she was seeing would
disappear.
In the corner of her eye she could still see Professor Nessen
sitting at his desk,holding his rifle. Yet the figure
that was approaching her from down the hallwaylooked
exactly like Nessen---only different. It was hard to
tell from the distance awaythat the figure was, but
the other Nessen's face looked strangely different
somehow----
it was contorted twisted into a malevolent glare that seemed to represent hatredand malevolence.
"Hold it right there!", she yelled and held her gun in front of her.
The otherNessen gave no indication that it had heard
and continued to approach. Almostwithout thinking,
she fired at him. The bullet seem to penetrate the chest--- but itdid nothing to stop the figure.
Without thinking, Torrance pointed his gun at the figure. "Stop or I'llshoot!"
The figure laughed again without stopping its chanting . Torrance fired at thefigure. The bullet hit it in the chest---- and nothing
happened. The chantingcontinued.
"Javert! Stop this now!"
"Or what? What will you do, mortal?" The figures voice filled him
with anunspeakable horror. Torrance would never be
able to explain what it was thatbothered him the most
about Javert's voice. All that he could say was that itsounded wrong. It sounded dead.
In answer, Mulder fired his gun. Only he didn't aim his piece at the figureshead or chest. Instead, he aimed his shot directly
at the bat-winged dog.
The instant the bullet shattered the idol, two things happened simultaneously.The figure gave off a loud and inhuman
scream, and a huge flash of light filled theair. Mulder and Torrance both had to shield their eyes. When at
last they could seeagain, the figure of Nicholas Javert lay prostrate on the ground.
EPILOGUE
BASEMENT OF THE J.EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING
3:21 P.M.
