Scully took two steps forward… and hit something. The tiny, empty vial rolled across the floor, teetered, and fell. The ring of shattering glass resonated through the basement. A crack: an insignificant flaw in the wood's grain, yet it told all. There was something below this basement- a hidden, secret hideaway.
Even before her brain had reached its inevitable conclusion, she was searching. There. Right there. Something she was sure Mr. Sikes had walked over a thousand times; a perfectly square area of floor, the pattern in the wood just a little off, a slight miscalculation in the carpenter's design. Feeling around the edges, there was an indentation large enough to grip, and up it came.
The light barely permeated the seeping blackness of the room. Scrambling down the steps, Scully dug out her flashlight and shone it about. A desk, a chair, the doorway to what looked to be the bathroom, and a casket. She shuddered at the sight of the closed casket, hoping she wouldn't find a use for one too soon. She walked carefully towards the bathroom, almost expecting Brandon to come popping out, fangs bared. It was empty.
A sad looking scrap of blanket lay haphazardly in the corner. She raised an eyebrow, wondering what in the world a blanket was doing in the bathroom, and then she saw it. One side of a handcuff clamped onto the piping. Holstering her weapon, Scully kneeled next to the cover. A familiar scent rose out of the moldy darkness; an aroma reminiscent of one too many stakeouts in close quarters and twenty hour workdays without air-conditioning. Mulder. She brushed her fingers against the scraped copper pipes, their speckled green protection scoured off by the handcuff's friction. He was here.
She stood abruptly. He had to be close by, but where?
"He'll suffocate, alone in the dark." She said to herself, mentally replaying Brandon's last words. Suffocate… suffocate… The word echoed in her mind. She stepped out of the bathroom and scanned the rest of the basement. As her eyes rested on the casket, she knew. Scully leapt towards the coffin, flicked open the latch, and pushed up the lid. It creaked as it opened.
"Mulder." She whispered, eyes misting as she looked into the box. Bits of dark violet material wrapped serpent-like around his fingers; the satin lining over his face shredded. His pale hands lay quietly at his sides, the left one still surrounded by the handcuff. His poor suit was twisted and misshapen from his struggle; the wooden lid of the sarcophagus marred and scratched where it peeked through the tattered lining. Mulder's dark eyebrows and lashes seemed painted on his sallow face, and his cerulean lips pouted even in death.
Scully brushed his chocolate hair back off his forehead and ran her hand down his stubbly, cold cheek. The collar of his shirt was one jagged crimson stain, and, as her fingers hovered over his punctured throat, tears ran freely down her face.
What had his last moments been like? Did he call her name, screaming for an answer that had come too late? As the air grew thin did he panic, desperately clawing for escape? Or were the marks merely convulsive movements, reacting to the buildup of carbon dioxide in his lungs? Did he fight, or did he go meekly into the night; so sure of death that he welcomed it, welcomed the release? How many times did Brandon use him? Scully was a doctor; she knew the signs of massive anemia when she saw it. How many hours were spent chained up in the bathroom, squirming against the wall and waiting for the inevitable? Did it hurt? The pain had faded with her, but Smithe said Brandon's powers didn't work on men very well, especially men as large as Mulder. If he had to feel that pain the whole time…
"Oh, Mulder." She choked out, cupping his face in her hand. She had so many things she wanted to tell him; so much he needed to know… Her heart felt like it was beating its way out of her body, pounding blood so hard that the tiny pulse in her thumb seemed magnified. Bum-bum. Bum-bum. Bum-bum. Bum-bum. Bum-Bum-bum. Her breath stopped. That irregular beat…
It wasn't hers.
END