The Twelve Days Murderer
Disclaimer: They're not mine and never will be. I'm over it.
A/N: This fic needs just a little bit of explaining, I think. It's not my traditional cutesy scenario where Mulder and Scully wind up kissing. In fact, to provide a minor spoiler...there is NO kissing in this fic. The murderer is kind of violent too....so if you're looking for Christmas cheer, you'll have to wait for next fic, which is tentatively titled "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy." Hehe. That one will be pure fluff...to balance out the world. This story is a one-shot that I wrote really late one night, typed up, and shipped out to my betas. My main reason for emailing it to Cait and Jen was to ask "is this too demented to post?" but they both liked it, and here it is. Enjoy.
Scully came into the office bearing coffee.
Mulder looked up, hearing her enter as well as smelling the delicious coffee smell she'd brought in with her.
"Please tell me that's for me..."
Scully smiled, handing over the cup she bought for him. "You can have this one...but I get the fancy stuff."
Mulder gratefully took his coffee, but wondered at what she was talking about. Plus, he was looking for any excuse to divert his attention from the mounds of paperwork that sat on his desk. "What did you get?"
"White chocolate mocha," Scully answered, taking a happy sip from her cup.
"Sounds good. Can I try?" Mulder asked, tentatively reaching for her prize.
Scully put on a fake look of shock. "I--" She was about to answer when there came a knock at the door. Nobody ever knocked on their door...
"Come in," Mulder called nicely, restraining his urge to mess with whoever was on the other side of the door.
"Agent Mulder," a young blonde haired agent nodded, greeting him. "And Agent Scully."
The pair looked at the newcomer in wonder, waiting for him to announce his reasons for coming all the way downstairs.
"My name is Jeremy Cadington. I'm with violent crimes, and I have a case that may or may not pique your interest."
Mulder was already interested. Nobody bothered to find their way to the basement without good reason. Whatever he had, it was something big.
"I'm listening." Mulder said calmly, pulling his best Frazier Crane.
"It's not paranormal...at least not with respect to your definition of the word. It's a far cry from an X File; it's just a serial killer, but I could sure use some help with catching this SOB." Cadington looked at Mulder and then to Scully, to make sure that they were interested. If they wouldn't help, he was just wasting his time. "I know that both of you are excellent profilers, and this case is extremely bizarre. We just can't seem to find enough to nail the killer."
"What exactly is this case about? Who's he killing, and why?" Mulder asked, annoyed at the runaround they were getting.
"That's just the thing. Do you know what today is?" Agent Cadington asked, moving the folder he'd held at his side.
"It's December twentieth," Scully replied.
"And how many days 'til Christmas?" Cadington prompted.
"Six..." Mulder replied, still not clear on what he was getting at...what did this have to do with the killer? He imagined that Cadington was about to tell them.
Agent Cadington pulled a photo from his folder and began. "On the fourteenth this man showed up dead. He worked at a music store and was the drummer in an up and coming local band. This was found at the scene..." Cadington handed Scully a plastic evidence bag that contained a slip of paper.
She read the note, her eyes widening a little. "Pah rum pah pum pum, me and my drum...cute." She replied.
"We've had similar murders occurring every day since," Cadington informed them.
Mulder looked up in surprise and Scully shook her head. "You're talking about six murders then? One every day..." That was incredible. "Have they all taken place in the DC area?" She asked.
Cadington nodded. "The general area, but yeah."
"Unbelievable," Mulder breathed.
"We're waiting for number seven. If we're right, we're due for something in connection to six geese a laying..."
Mulder's eyes narrowed. "You're kidding...this is a bunch of bull"
But Cadington's only response was to pull the rest of the photos he had from his file. Carefully he lined up the victims for the two agents to see.
"Lady dancing...a ballet teacher who was strangled with the ribbon from one of her own slippers."
Mulder and Scully both grimaced slightly at the sight of the pink satin ribbon, laced up carefully around her neck.
"Cigar store owner was burned severely; not the traditional 'piper piping' but still. A lot of the victims have been strangled...this girl worked at a dairy shop...your maid a milking, and this one was a swimmer who was drowned and covered in white feathers."
"That's really over-elaborate....and sick," Mulder said.
"I thought you said you needed help profiling. You seem to have the pattern down," Scully observed.
"Yeah, but we need help stopping this whacko. There're only five more days 'til Christmas."
"Whoever he is, he's definitely highly psychotic, probably imagines that each of these gifts are important somehow. Possibly they're a sacrifice to a false god, or to Satan. His murders are a terrible twist on the 12 Days of Christmas song. He'd have to be extremely obsessive too...possibly OCD...he's fixated on this song. Each victim has to be perfectly matched to the day and the gift. And, he's definitely counting down to Christmas. I believe his last murder will be something big. He'll make it a grand finale of sorts."
Cadington looked at Mulder, about to say something when his cell phone rang.
"They have the victim of the day," he announced a minute later. "It was another drowning...they found the body in the part. You two interested?"
Mulder gave a quick look to his paperwork, then to his partner.
"Whaddaya say, Scully?" He asked.
She sighed. "Why not?"
They grabbed their coats and tailed Agent Cadington to his car.
Agents had already stepped in and circled off the crime scene with bright yellow caution tape.
Scully ducked under it and saw the horrible sight that lay beyond.
The victim was another girl. Her face was that awful purplish white that comes only with drowning.
She'd been dunked in the pond, Scully wagered. Then, she grimaced at the realization. More often than not, there were geese in the pond.
The body was set in a makeshift nest, and when they moved her, they discovered six eggs that had been placed carefully beneath her.
"You just have to wonder..." Mulder breathed. "I've seen a lot of sick murderers...people who could do things to make your skin crawl and fear humanity and her evils forever...but I have to tell you, Scully, I've never seen anything like this...And none of the murderers I've witnessed the work of ever pulled seven murders in seven days right outside of DC."
Cadington looked at them, begging silently for help. "We have cops out in swarms, but it's to no avail. Whoever is killing these people keeps beating us to the punch. We can't get ahead of them."
"Five golden rings," Mulder mused.
"What?" Cadington asked, lost in his own thought.
"The next victim will represent the five golden rings. That's an important part in the song...it's longer than the other ones....The victim could be from a jewelry store. Find all the prominent ones....he'll go after someone important, and if we find out who that is, we have a chance."
Cadington paused. "You're talking about hundreds, possibly more though...how could we find the store he's going to hit?"
"Stake out all of the largest jewelers. His kills are getting flashier, like I originally suspected...the closer he gets to Christmas. He drown this girl in public and left her all done up in the nest. He'll want five to be big."
Cadington nodded, and went about making the dozen calls he would need to get people into place for the following day.
Scully looked at Mulder. "Do you really think we can stop him? I mean the odds..."
"The worst part about this case is that it's a waiting game. All we can do is guess and check. We have virtually nothing on the killer, except a very vague profile and that damned song. He could be anyone."
Scully sighed. "And his next victim could be anyone as well. He connects them, but like the piper victim, it could be metaphorically related, or anything..." Scully looked back toward the crime scene. "I'm going to head to the lab, and see if maybe we can pick up anything there."
Mulder spit a sunflower seed. "They won't. This killer is careful. He doesn't use his bare hands, and my guess is that you won't find a shred of DNA on any of the bodies. He wants to make sure that his murders continue up until the first day of Christmas."
"Still, as he gets down to the wire, he might get careless...or we might just get lucky somehow," Scully pointed out.
"We have to wait," Mulder told her. "That's the only way to see who he kills and how."
They didn't prevent the next murder, however. On December 21st they discovered a dead jeweler, as they'd suspected, with five golden rings on his fingers.
"How did we miss it?" Mulder yelled, ready to kick something in rage.
Cadington didn't answer at first. He wasn't sure. "We weren't looking at the names...just the size of the store. We wanted the larger ones..."
"But you didn't notice a small store called 'The Five Golden Rings,'" Mulder asked incredulously.
Scully looked at him, silently telling him to lay off of Cadington. It wasn't anyone's fault really.
"There are a million jewelry stores in the area. We staked out the largest of them. You said it'd be flashy, so we assumed that meant a well known place."
Mulder sighed, more frustrated at his inability to stop the crime than at Cadington.
"Four days," Mulder reminded them, angrily. "How are we gonna find this bastard in four days? He kills to such a pattern, but at the same time, completely lacks one. All of his victims are connected to the song, but anyone could be next. Four calling birds."
"Pet shops...ones that specialize in breeds of talking birds," Scully mused.
"Start there...if we find a body tomorrow, then we were wrong. I can't think of anything though," Mulder sighed, defeated.
But they were wrong. On the twenty-second they discovered a Verizon salesclerk strangled with telephone cords and left by a communications tower.
Mulder was going insane. There had to be a way to catch this guy. Some other pattern...he was sure he was overlooking something. If the killer was as OCD as his profile said, then there was something else.
But by day three, Mulder still hadn't found what it was, and the morgue collected another body. This time, a French manicurist, dead a
nd cut to pieces.
It was more violent than the others, but other than that it didn't lead to much. The victim wasn't as carefully connected to the song though. Three French hens, but she wasn't a hen. It was a stretch.
Mulder, Scully, and Cadington puzzled over it, and worried. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve.
Two turtle doves...
Mulder was struck by something. Something that made him jump up to the map of locations where each murder occurred. He began with the first and followed them along, then called to Cadington and Scully, yelling.
"Cadington! Where was the last murder at?" He asked.
The agent pointed to the map, following Mulder's finger, as it traced the perfect outline of a crucifix. His eyes widened in surprise.
"If you follow from the first one, it makes the Catholic sign of the cross. Our murderer is religious...highly Catholic and now we have a general idea of where the next murder will take place," Mulder announced, pointing to the map.
Though the police were out in force, it didn't stop the Twelve Days murderer from asphyxiating a newlywed couple in their home that Christmas Eve.
Scully's shoulders slumped in mourning for the young couple she'd never known in life. They were married a month before; very happy, and very much in love. Two turtle doves.
They had been correct about the location, but it hadn't helped. Two people had died anyway.
There was a solitary note pinned to the door, in the center of the Christmas wreath.
Let there be peace.
Scully was angry and disgusted. It was so senseless. The poor couple was a day away from celebrating their first Christmas together...only to be murdered silently in their home. For what? Why was this guy killing in the first place?
Mulder examined the map again. "A partridge in a pear tree....what will he do? His final act? It'll be in this section of town, and something big. I still believe that. Are there any large Christmas trees here? Or an important Catholic church?"
Cadington shook his head. "I don't know...." Then, his eyes lit up. "There's a parade..." He leapt out of his seat. "There's a Christmas parade that goes right through here...and the main attraction is a giant float with a tree and Santa."
Scully's stomach churned. "You think he's going after Santa Clause on Christmas day?"
"I'd bet even money on it," Mulder said, also sickened at the thought.
There were agents scattered everywhere along the parade route. They were ready for just about anything...anything of course, except for what actually happened.
At the end of the parade route, the Santa on the large float hung himself from the highest branch of the oversized tree behind him.
The crowd gasped in horror and tried to convince the children that Santa was just playing a joke on them.
Mulder and Scully rushed to the float with a slew of other agents. They'd been expecting an assassination, not a suicide.
Santa's pocket contained a letter, which Scully fished out and read immediately.
...And a partridge in a pear tree.
That would be me, for I am through with your commercial Christmas. Everything is about stereos and video games, and damnable golden rings. People have forgotten the true meaning of this day, so I will serve as a gruesome reminder. Let everybody know that the commercialism of Christmas, so frequently embodied in Santa Clause, is dead.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
Mulder and Scully looked hopelessly at the dead man in the Santa suit.
Scully felt a little sick at the entire thing. Mulder helped her off of the float and they began walking along the deserted parade route.
"That was the worst case I've ever been assigned," Scully lamented, leaning on Mulder for support.
He didn't feel much better. "We couldn't stop him. It didn't matter how I profiled him. I got the bastard down, but I couldn't stop him."
Mulder turned, suddenly. "What if he was right?"
Scully shook her head. "He still didn't need to prove himself in such a horrible way."
Mulder shrugged. "Maybe he did. I mean, think about how the entire world has transformed Christmas into a Hallmark, retail-marketing event. This was his last stand against everyone and their new values of Christmas Do you think that commercialism alone could drive a man to this?"
"I think that he was a very sick individual." Scully replied. "Besides, he was a hypocrite in the end. He wanted Christmas to be about togetherness and holiness....murder is against the commandments. He tore thirteen people, and himself from their families, friends, and the world. That goes completely against his own message."
"Lot's of murderers wind up being hypocrites...how many crazy people really care if they're motives are in harmony with their actions? He still makes a good point, even if it was in bad taste. Christmas is a religious holiday, and is about family and friends...not material goods."
"But gift giving can be part of the love of family and friends. Signs of affection and gratitude can come in material forms," Scully countered.
"Maybe Christmas is just what anybody wants to make it. He chose death rather than accepting a national standard for Christmas. Makes you wonder."
"Makes me sick," Scully told him. "Cases like this one just make me lose all faith in humanity."
Mulder looked at her, not knowing how to comfort his partner.
A cry of pain pierced the street.
Scully looked to Mulder, unsure of what it meant, but he was already off and running. She sighed and followed.
"Scully!" Mulder called to her, before she was in full view.
Fearing the worst, Scully rounded the corner and saw Mulder on the ground. He was with a woman - a very pregnant woman who was in labor.
Scully softened at the sight and went to the girl.
"She's in labor, and I'm pretty sure that the baby is coming...now," Mulder told Scully, trying to hide how much he didn't want to watch a live birth.
The woman moaned with a contraction. "It just happened. I was shopping and stopped to watch the parade...and then my water broke."
"It's fine, you'll be okay. I'm a doctor," Scully said, trying to reassure the poor woman.
"Are you sure? I thought labor took hours, but the baby is coming right now. Is that normal?"
Scully smiled. "Most women wish they were that lucky....but you're right. Most take longer. You'll be fine delivering immediately, as long as the baby is in position and you're properly dilated."
It had been awhile since Scully had delivered a baby down in Florida, but she remembered it well. With her help, the stranger in the street gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl. They wrapped her in scarves, and Mulder ran to get the car and get them to a hospital.
Standing at the nursery window, Mulder looked in for the baby that his partner delivered.
Scully came back from talking to their mystery woman, Elizabeth Delrose. "She named the baby Maria Noelle." She told Mulder, coming up alongside him. She peered in at the infants.
"It's amazing."
"Yeah, you did a great job today, Scully," Mulder said, congratulating her.
"I didn't mean that," Scully said flatly. "I mean that it's amazing what you and I see in a given day. I witnessed humanity at it's worst, and then helped deliver a Christmas miracle. It's just incredible."
Mulder let her stare on in silence for awhile, but a thought nagged at him, until he fully remembered.
"Hey, shouldn't you be with the Scully clan for dinner?" He asked. It hadn't been his intention to keep her busy all weekend, but here it was mid afternoon on Christmas Day, and she still hadn't gone home.
"I don't really feel like driving...it's been a long day," Scully said, sighing with fatigue.
"I can drive you," Mulder offered, knowing that he had nothing pressing to do for the rest of the night.
Scully perked at his suggestion. "That would be great...but you'll have to stay for dinner."
Mulder would have argued, but it was what Scully wanted, and after what they'd just gone through, he didn't feel like fighting over it.
"Sure, that'd be nice," he replied. They took one last glance at Maria Noelle, and headed out to Scully's mother's.
Later that night, Scully was still thinking about the days events as she sat on the couch in the warmth of Mrs. Scully's home. Mulder was with her; his arm draped loosely behind her on the back of the couch.
"For what it's worth Scully, Merry Christmas." Mulder said, pulling her close to him, in a sort of embrace.
With her family around her, and her closest friend, Scully let go of the thoughts that had been clamoring around in her head. This was what Christmas was about, and she was finally at peace with the case. It was over, after all.
"Merry Christmas, Mulder," She replied.
The End
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