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Second to last chapter!


Chapter 8 – Rescue

The car lurched as Mulder sped down the Beltway towards the row of elegant mansions along the Potomac. Not surprisingly, it wasn't long before he was pulled over by a policeman.

Rolling the window down and flashing his badge, he shouted, "Damnit, I'm a federal agent! This is an emergency; you have to let me go!"

"Please calm down, Sir. You just need to…"

"No, listen to me! You know Morris? The river killer? I found him and he is currently with his next victim. Unless you want her blood on your head, let go to her and call for backup to 59 Wolfe Street. Okay?"

The policeman was visibly shaken. "I… I'll go do that right away, Sir. Right this very minute. I am so sorry. Go, and Godspeed!"

Mulder let out a stream of curses as he accelerated the car and headed towards the house again. "Damn police!" He knew in the back of his mind that the man was just doing his job, but he was panicking. He knew that, too. "I can't lose her," he murmured to himself. "Not now. Not ever. Please don't let me be too late!"

Not being a religious man, Mulder was not one to pray. Tonight, though, he needed all the help he could get.


Scully's face was ashen as the full realization of this horror hit her. "Oh my God. It's you! You are the river killer. Varrick?"

"River killer?" he scoffed. "Oh, that title is so impersonal and melodramatic, don't you think, Dana?" Her chuckled and moved closer to her. She flinched and began to back away.

She could not stop her voice from wavering as she said, "Please, Varrick, calm down. Don't do this to me. I am your friend, you know that."

"Oh, Dana. This is not about friendship. Or love. Or lust, for that matter. It's about basic instincts – those intense desires that need to be sated. I need to kill. It's the only thing that keeps me sane."

As he spoke, a strange reddish glow came over his eyes.

"Who… what are you?"

He just grinned sadistically. "Does that really matter at this point? Trust me; it will be of no importance to you in just a few short moments."

Scully suppressed a whimper as her back hit the cellar wall. She was out of room to back up. Furtively, she glanced at the door.

"What, thinking about escape? Come now, Dana, why bother? Death is not as bad as it's cracked up to be, I'm sure. After all of the physical and psychological suffering that your body has and will endure in the next few moments, it deserves some peace at last."

"No! No, Varrick. You're sick. Maybe you can come with me and talk to someone…?"

A scowl appeared on his face. "Oh, right. Now I remember why you can't understand it. Still waiting for your dashing partner, eh, Dana? Or, should I say, your 'boyfriend'? Ha, that was so painfully transparent. Did you know that that type of relationship is not allowed between partners in the bureau? Not that it matters anymore, but just thought you should know…"

"That is none of your business!"

Varrick ignored her. "You were planning to run to him tonight, weren't you? Right after our date. I have to say, Dana, that hurts. It really does. What does he have that I don't?" Stop! Don't answer that. I know that whatever you say will just make me angrier.

You see, Dana, the other women that I killed I did it just for the pure bliss and satisfaction that is intrinsic in killing. With you, however, it's personal. You chose someone else over me. Very unfortunate decision on your part, Dana. I actually did really like you, almost enough to let you live. But now…" He paused, pulling aside an old blanket to reveal a canister clearly labeled "Neronge". "Well, now that's just too bad."

He kicked the cap off the container and grinned at Scully's terrified face as she watched the whitish gas seep out into the room.

"Goodbye, Dana."


Mulder's car screeched into the long driveway. He stopped it and jumped out, not bothering to even remove the keys. He slowed as he neared the house, drawing his revolver and approaching cautiously.

From the outside, the whole place gave off the misleading appearance of being beautiful and full of peace. The sun sinking lazily into the sky lit up the shadowy corners of the eaves and cast flickers of sparkling light across the well-manicured grass. On any other night, in any other situation, the sight would have been breath-taking.

Completely oblivious to the tranquility of the moment, Mulder walked up to the porch and peered through the front window, seeing only emptiness within. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he readied his gun. One the silent count of three, he came crashing through the door. "Scully!" he yelled.

There was no response. He swept through the entire first floor of the house, finding only Scully's deep blue jacket draped neatly across a couch. "Scully!" he shouted again, his voice growing more desperate as each moment passed.

Mulder came to a dead stop when he saw the door that led to the lower level. He heard a faint sound coming up the stairway and under the crack of that door. His mind instantaneously registered the significance of this.

"Oh my God. No! Scully!" he shouted as he barreled down the stairs, praying that he was not already too late.

"Varrick, please," Scully whimpered. She had intended to appear strong and calm regardless of her circumstances, but it was proving impossible. The sight of the gas drifting forward until it nearly engulfed her had robbed her of any emotional control.

When the Neronge finally hit her, it tasted bitter and cruel. She felt her eyes begin to tear as she fought the impulse to breathe in.

Suddenly, she felt Varrick's arms snake around and pull her to him violently. The shock of that force caused her to gasp, sucking in the toxic air.

Varrick grinned as he inhaled deeply, then marked her neck with his teeth. Scully was too weak to even make an attempt to fight him off. Images began blurring and spinning in front of her – the empty cellar, Varrick's cruel smile, the hazy gas, then, inexplicably, Mulder's face.

Mulder, she thought groggily. I never got to tell him. Then, her head swam and everything went black.


Mulder near panicked when he found the heavy cellar door locked. Desperately, he readied his gun and fired it directly at the lock. It exploded and the door crashed open.

His relief dissipated as he was greeted with the sight of a still-grinning Varrick letting Scully's body slump to the floor. The red eyes turned to him. "You're too late," Varrick hissed, chuckling evilly. He looked down lasciviously at Scully, then took a threatening step toward Mulder.

Reacting completely on instinct, Mulder fired. It hit Varrick square in the chest. Varrick just looked mildly surprised before his body completely disintegrated on the spot.

Mulder's eyes widened in shock at this, but he pushed Varrick to the back of his mind as he took in Scully's inert form. Taking a deep breath, he rushed into the room and swept her up in his arms. He then ran out, but not before choking on a breath-full of Neronge.

Finally, he managed to stumble up the stairs. He was beginning to feel dizzy form the inhalation of the gas. He heard the blaring of approaching sirens in the distances and was suddenly grateful for his earlier run-in with the police officer.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mulder stumbled against the front door. Trying to bring the world back into focus, he looked down at Scully. "Come on, keep breathing. Don't give up, Scully," he croaked with what was left of his voice.

He made his way wearily down the porch. When he reached the grass, he could not help falling to his knees, making sure to slow his fall enough so as not to injure Scully.

He lay her gently down on the grass and leaned over her. Despite the foggy haze that was threatening to overwhelm him, he retained enough sense to check for a pulse. He was sure that he felt beating in her neck, but it was faint.

Just as he had allowed himself to begin to relax, he heard a choking, gurgling sound escape her throat. Checking again, eh found that she had stopped breathing.

Summoning every last ounce of his strength, Mulder drew a deep breath and lowered his mouth to hers, pushing his life-giving oxygen into here lungs.

He did this once. Twice. Three times. "Come one, Scully, breathe!" he pleaded in a strangled, broken voice. "Please." He was growing faint from his own expulsion of air.

Finally, he heard her cough and gasp in a shaky breath. Content that she was alive, Mulder wrapped an arm around her body and finally succumbed to the blackness that surrounded him.


So, enough "Breathe" references in there? lol

Only one more chapter to go now (look for lots of MSR, of course!).

As always, please continue to review, it'll mean so much to me. I want to know how I'm doing!