TITLE: Secrets Beyond Time
EMAIL: [email protected]
WEBSITE: http://nychen.com/xf/
CATEGORY: xfiles || angst
RATING: PG-13 || violence
SUMMARY: a madman takes scully prisoner.
SPOILERS: none
DISCLAIMER: i don't own anything except this story.
ARCHIVE: post anywhere just remember to give me credit and links
WRITTEN: 01.23.98
LAST UPDATED: 05.07.02
[ SECRETS BEYOND TIME // Part 1 of 2 ]
[ Unknown location - outside || Unknown time ]
It was raining outside. The wind blew the raindrops in a slanted direction, and the tree branches flung themselves freely about. The sky was a deep navy blue, enriching its glow onto the eerie clouds.
The rain soaked itself into the man's tank top. The original white color was dirtied in mud and had splashes of red everywhere. The man stretched out his arms, welcoming the water falling from above. His mouth opened, and his tongue lashed out for some of the liquid.
Then the man wearing the stained shirt closed his mouth, and brought down his arms. He walked farther away from the house, leaving it behind. His footprints led into the woods, as beside them, were another set of footprints. He quickened his walk, not wanting to lose the prints as the rain washed them away.
He was led farther into the woods, and the grassy rasps lengthened the deeper he went. In a few minutes, he stopped. He knelt down, staining his jeans with more mud. What he saw restored upon his face a widened smile.
A wicked smile.
There, half buried in the grass and mud, was a glimmer of gold.
A gold cross.
Her cross.
He reached out his arm, chiseled and built, and dug his fingers into the mud. He used his pinky to hook the necklace, and pulled its hidden half out of the mud. Then he held it up to the sky, the blue a contrast to the gold. The heavenly drops of rain washed away the grime on the necklace, and the cross shined brightly.
[ Unknown location - inside || Unknown time ]
She hadn't heard him walk back into the house. She hadn't heard anything since he captured her. He tried reasoning with her, tried persuading her to make it easy for herself, to welcome his coming into her life. But she didn't listen, she didn't hear anything he tried to say, and so he made it difficult for her.
He hadn't wanted to make things difficult, but she left him with no choice. First, he told her that all she had to do was lay on the floor. But she didn't follow his orders. This had made him mad. Second, he told her that all she had to do was to take off her clothing. But she didn't follow his orders. This made him furious. Thirdly, he told her that all she had to do was say three words to him. But again, she didn't follow his orders. Again, this inferiorated him.
But this time, she struck on his last nerve. And he lost control.
He walked up to her, closing her into the room corner. His shadow hovering over her small figure. He reached out to touch her, but she flinched. Her flinch was sequence to a number of reactions.
She flinched, and kicked him in the knee. She had squeezed herself tightly against the wall and used that force to kick him. She then fell forward and crawled on her knees away from him. He laid on the floor for a few seconds, for the injury gave her only a few seconds to get away.
But the man got up and stepped even closer to her. And landed a powerful fist into her back. Scully screamed aloud and her chin hit forcibly against the carpet floor. She couldn't get up, for he had her wrists tied behind her back.
The impact of his fist forced all the oxygen out of her lungs. The impact of her chin forced her teeth to cut her lips. The lushish blood flowed onto the carpet beneath her cheek. Scully could taste the bitterness and the pain. She couldn't help but to moan and to continue seeking large intakes of oxygen.
The man stood a foot away, grinning in his happiness. He could hear her whimpering on the floor. His ears were perked and he wanted more from her. With his boot, he pushed her body and flipped her over onto her back. The woman now laid in front of him, for him to take. To conquer.
Scully slightly opened her eyes, only to see the face of the man she now feared. He got closer, intentionally invading her privacy. Her space. Her body. Scully tried to inch away using her legs, but the man hurriedly straddled on top of her and sat heavily on her hips.
The man's weight surprised Scully, for her eyes opened more widely. She moaned, not knowing that the more she did, the more the man wanted her. She tried desperately to move, to free her arms, but his weight on top of her's pressed down on her hands. They were pushing into her back, and she clenched her jaw, trying to forget the ever- growing pain.
The man warranted her attention. He licked his lips and Scully's eyes were soon immediately inline with the madman's. She didn't want him to know she feared him. But she knew he knew.
His eyes were a shade of green. Emerald green, mesmerizing and clearly insane. The expression on his face didn't change, except for his wicked smile. They stared at each other for what seemed like an infinity. But she couldn't take it anymore.
Scully broke the stare.
She looked away, and he parted his lips and leaned closer to her face. He whispered quietly, as if he was telling her a secret.
"Don't move."
Scully squinted, as if looking for a reason, and she got it just as quickly. While in the midst of thought, Scully hadn't noticed the man reach behind his back and pull out his knife.
The man took his eyes off the woman, and looked at his knife. Its stainless steel color blazed in the window light.
"The Gator-Edge knife. That's what the professionals call it," the man said as he pressed a button, and a blade flashed through the air, "Useful for anything, useful for everything. Its 7 inches long weighing just under 3 ounces. It's made in - Italy."
At that word, Italy, Scully noticed the man paused. And she looked from the knife to the man's face, bearing a grim smile. But it returned as he saw her watching him.
"You want to see it?" the man grinned again, and neared the knife closer to the woman's face. "Be patient."
Scully was alert now. This man was opening himself up to her. Telling her details that he needn't tell her, and she needn't know. This was not a good sign. For most criminals only reveal themselves if they plan to get rid of their victim. Scully shivered. And she vowed to pay attention to every word and movement the madman made.
The man slowly put the knife down beside the woman's head. And again, he reached behind his back and pulled something out. A handkerchief. He pulled it straight and let it hang loosely, as if to let her see the designs on it.
It had the initials IMU.
Suddenly the man flung the handkerchief in the air, twisting it into a rope-like form. He smiled.
Scully knew what was coming.
"Lift your head and open your mouth."
She refused, disobeying his orders again. She didn't move, but only parted her lips to say 'No.'
The man kept his smile. Then lifted his body inches off from the woman's. He looked into her eyes, seeing the relief as more than twice her body weight was eased off. But then he sat back down, with a downward force that surprised the woman, whose body arched inwards just enough so that the man could hurriedly wrap the handkerchief around and tie it around her jaw. The force had opened the woman's mouth enough to shove the handkerchief knot into.
Feeling dumbstruck, Scully tried to speak through the handkerchief, but everything she said, came out as a mumble. And the man grinned.
Scully struggled underneath him, and the man reached for the knife. Scully froze as the knife gingerly touched the skin on her neck. The man leaned close and whispered.
"Don't move."
Holding the knife in his left hand, the man ran the edge of the blade across Scully's collarbone. With his right hand, he gingerly moved his fingers underneath Scully's blouse. His fingers, rough with touch, ran along her ribs, feeling each bone's structure.
Scully dared not move. She could feel the blade digging into her tender skin. She could feel the fingers chilled against her body. They were cold. And her body tightened its muscles against its intruder. Scully dared not move.
His fingers ran along down her ribcage, and he felt her body tighten. He moved his fingers onto her stomach, feeling her muscles, a toned body that was yet so tender.
Suddenly the man took out his right hand and brought it up to her face to stroke her hair. She gasped. He continued on. Sweeping aside the hair on her cheeks. He then saw the red liquid. The blood from her cut lips had smeared a bit alongside her right cheek. Digging the knife deeper across her collarbone, he fingered his right hand and smeared the blood more. Playing with the liquid, he looked the woman in the eyes, and lifted his index finger towards his mouth.
Scully stared, not blinking. The man's index finger had some of her blood on it. The man brought it near his lips, parted them, and licked the blood off slowly. Scully stared, not blinking.
"Yum."
Insanity. The man's emerald eyes were insane. Scully blinked and the blade slashed across her neck. It was quick, a millisecond of pain and the blood began to flow again. Scully gasped, and coughed. Choking on her own saliva. She was afraid. She could not conquer her fears.
He conquered her.
[ Riverdale, Georgia || Unknown time ]
He was obsessed. The search was endless. He felt like he was the only man looking for her. No one was helping him. No one was able to control him. His thoughts were constantly on her. And he didn't want to stop thinking.
Then it happened.
A clue.
"Agent Mulder, the local police spotted the car several miles off highway I 85. We think it's her blood."
Hope.
Finally, a drop of hope in a lake of prayers.
Mulder grabbed his overcoat and ran out after the officer. The photograph he was examining flew from the desk and landed underneath it. It was a black and white photograph from the security camera that last caught sight of a woman being dragged away from her own apartment hallway. The date stamped in the corner of the photograph was September 23. Three days after, she was still missing.
She was Dana Katherine Scully.
[ Unknown location - inside || September 24 ]
He waited until she stopped coughing. It annoyed him. He wanted more from her. He needed more from her. And he was going to get it.
Anyway he desired.
The tears watered her eyes, and Scully worried for her blurred vision. She needed every sense. She sniffed and her senses worked their way into her memories. She smelled him. His odor stifled her, the scents of musky cologne nauseated her. She could smell his sickness. She could taste her own blood. And she licked her lips, they were dried and she hadn't notice until now.
He was still smiling when she eyed him. With the blade only inches away, Scully was afraid of moving, fearing another one of the madman's reaction.
The man, tired of playing, exchanged his smile for a grimmer face. One that was serious, one that was the master of pain. His features seemed to darken in the moonlight. Scully took notice. His eyes were no longer glowing as bright, his pupils dilated and they stayed tiny blots, and she saw his muscles tense.
Scully mumbled a plea.
But the man didn't hear. He didn't want to hear. He was tired. He used his fingers and ran them along the woman's neck. Along where she was cut. He smeared the blood along the cut. And pressed the skin as he smeared the blood. He felt the woman wince, but he only pressed harder. Then when his fingers came to the deepest cut, his fingers paused. He used his two fore-fingers and parted them as they each took a side of the cut. His fingers pulled apart at the woman's tender skin, ripping the wound and causing more bleeding, more pain, more pleasure for him.
Her moan came out as a cry for him to stop. But Scully knew the effect was the opposite, and she could not stop the pain. The throbbing in her head, from the piercing stab into her back, the burn on her lips, and the rip of her skin. She could almost feel a literal parting of the Red Sea. And she knew that her only hope lay in prayers, for she would not be able to stop the madman from stopping the pleasure he took from her life until she had no more life in her to take.
And Scully wanted to die.
[ Jonesboro, Georgia || September 24 || 12.53am ]
"Where is she?"
Mulder was desperate. He knew the longer she was gone, the less of a chance she would return alive. He was a desperate man. A man now whose life depended upon evidence found, whose life depended on the survival of the woman he loved.
"Here! Mulder, get over here!"
"What?! What is it?"
"I think, I'm pretty sure its Agent Scully's badge."
Her badge. His arm reached to hastily grab the badge from the officer's hand. Mulder flipped the badge open, sighing a relief as he saw the picture. Her picture. Her ID.
2317-616.
[ Unknown location - outside || September 25 || 02.11am ]
"Wake up little girl."
He took pleasure from making her his inferior. His voice came across as demanding, yet it was spoken gently, as if he was warning her to stay awake so she would know to fear him.
Scully shivered at the voice. It's deep calling, it's calling for death. She laid still on the floor, where he had left her. Opening her eyes, the dizziness swam in. All of reality struck at once, and Scully dry heaved. Her eyes closed, not ever wanting to open again, and her body positioned itself ready to hibernate until it gained back all its nutrients and energy.
But the madman had other plans.
When the woman didn't move at his command, the anger inside him began to build. He clenched his jaw, his hands got sweaty and his eyes twitched. It was time the woman learned her lesson. He didn't care if she was a federal officer of the law. No law was going to save her from his wrath.
His arms reached out with power and grabbed the woman's wrists. He had cut the ropes loose and taken off the handkerchief when she was asleep, for he had the conscience of a man, he wasn't an animal. Or maybe he was. For now, he wanted meat. And she was his.
As his hands held tight, Scully slumped back even more, preventing the man from moving her without effort. She then fought to loosen her wrists, for his grasp was tightly held onto where the ropes had previously bound her, and the marks were of damaged skin, pink and rash burned.
When the man decided to let go, Scully fell onto her back; her head dizzy as ever. What she wasn't prepared for were the kicks to her ribs. His boot had steel toes, and with each pounding kick to her ribs, Scully yelped in agony. She tried to shelter herself by shrinking into a little ball, clasping her arms around her head, and bending her knees towards her head to block the kicks. But somehow, they still reached her bones, and after several minutes, Scully was ready to collapse and give into darkness.
Her body had taken its toll, the bruises were forming with every kick. Her hips hurt, and her ribs were screaming for mercy. But throughout the ordeal, Scully kept her mouth shut, not wanting to tempt the man. Not wanting to give him any pleasure.
With this non-verbal stimuli, the man gave the woman on the floor one more hard kick to the hand covering her head. He could at least see the blood beginning to flow from her body. The blouse was growing weary and had blotted red stains in several places. He stopped the kicking, happy to see the woman shivering. Seeing her quiver and shake involuntarily with pain. He smiled.
He was eager to say something. But he held his tongue. She wasn't worth talking to. He pulled her up, not caring if she struggled, for his strength was 10 times hers, as was his size. He grasped her by her shoulders, for he had weakened her so that she could barely stand up straight. Handling her with shoves and pushes, they made it to the doorframe of the next room.
Scully could feel herself slipping away, her body wanting to give in. She couldn't see where she was going, the blood from her cut forehead was dripping over her eyelids. She could taste the new blood in her mouth, her nose was bleeding, maybe even broken. The steel toe had smashed her hand bones and she had heard the bones break as it sandwiched between her face and the shoe.
She was too weak. She was too vulnerable. She was too desperate for help. She was giving in.
The man pushed her, but Scully's legs wobbled with each step forward, and the next push from the man, landed her on the ground. She didn't even have the strength to leverage her face from hitting the floor.
"Get up!"
The voice thundered in her ears, but she didn't really hear. She didn't want to hear. Her brain didn't want to function. Scully just laid on the floor, wanting to end it all before the end came to get her. She could only force a small mumble from her bloodied lips.
"Please..."
[ Jonesboro, Georgia || September 25 || 02.17am ]
They should be flying. Or at least driving faster than they were. Mulder could not sit still. If he had his way, he would've chosen to drive himself, but AD Skinner wouldn't allow it. He kept thinking 'Why? Why didn't he trust me?' But that didn't matter much anymore.
Soon, his thought wondered back to the case. This wasn't happening. Or was it. 'The past is the past, that's what I have to focus on. I need to think.' Mulder kept silent in the car ride to the house.
The investigating officers and him had traced the vehicle license plate number to a tag issued in Marietta, a few miles off from where the vehicle was found. They then linked a man by the name of Ivan Millard Ugene, who lived in an old abandoned house far off the roads of the highway.
Ugene was clear of any previous charges, his record was clean. Maybe the man wasn't the man they were looking for, but Mulder had to try. He had to risk his hunch on something, anything to keep looking for his partner. She was at stake, and his career didn't matter compared to that fact.
Mulder grew impatient. His thoughts were trained on her, and he couldn't help himself.
"Can't you drive faster? We don't have time to waste. She doesn't have much time!"
He then felt his seatbelt tug, and the car was in motion. Speeding toward its rescue for a woman whose time had come.
[ Marietta, Georgia - inside || September 25 || 02.31am ]
"Bitch!" shouted Ugene as he rubbed his ankle. The woman on the floor wasn't regretting her actions. But she would soon. He hadn't expected her to bite his ankle when he neared her. She was going to get it.
In fiery, his eyes dimmed and formed slits. His breathing pressured, and he pulled her up from the floor. 'Damn bitch!' he thought, then he saw the perfect punishment for her. Ahead was the fireplace, built inside stones.
Ugene smiled his wicked smile.
[ CONTINUED IN PART TWO ] [ SECRETS BEYOND TIME || Part 2 of 2 ]
[ Marietta, Georgia - inside || September 25 || 02.41am ]
The man's chiseled and built arms reached down and grabbed the woman up straight. His arms pushed her towards the wall, and the ragged knife-like stones torn away at her flesh, ripping through several tender layers of skin on her right shoulder.
Scully clenched her jaws as she let out a loud moan. The tears from her eyes held tight and were kept back by the anger, the desire for revenge, and the pain.
Landing hard on her knees, Scully grasped her right arm and hugged it closer to her body, but close behind her, was him again. Ugene reached out and pulled her up, dragging her across the floor, past the bloodied carpet, staining it with fresh blood. He had wound his fingers deep into her copper red hair, each finger threaded with fiery.
Scully didn't fight.
Not because she didn't want to, but because she no longer had any strength left. The constant throbbing in her head and all over her body chilled her bones. She ached from head to toe. Her neck strained back at an arch as she felt her body bump into the furniture in the room. Each time, each bump, she would moan in pain.
Then it just stopped.
The tears flowed freely, mixing with blood, as the strands of her hair struggled to stay bound to her scalp. The room looked oblivious and Scully lost any memory of where she had been taken.
Ugene tugged at the hair, each time, her moan would follow. He loved it. Every bit, the medicine that he craved, seeing someone suffer. Sadist. He was born to enjoy other's pain. And this woman, he had the most pleasure torturing.
He tugged harder, the woman twitched. Her body although weak, would limply move about and try to escape. But she had played his game too long, and he had weakened her too much.
One more time.
He tugged harder, she moaned louder. He looked down at the woman, her arm still grasping her shoulder, which was now bleeding tremendously. He cared not.
Or did he.
For his fingers let loose the handful of copper 'wires,' and the woman's head dropped to the floor, hitting the cement.
A final moan.
[ Marietta, Georgia - outside || September 25 || 03.30am ]
It was raining outside. The wind blew the raindrops in a slanted direction, and the tree branches flung themselves freely about. The sky was a deep navy blue, enriching its glow onto the eerie clouds.
The rain soaked itself into the man's tank top. The original white color was dirtied in mud and had splashes of red everywhere. The man stretched out his arms, welcoming the water falling from above. His mouth opened, and his tongue lashed out for some of the liquid.
Then the man wearing the stained shirt closed his mouth, and brought down his arms. He walked farther away from the house, leaving it behind. His footprints led into the woods, as beside them, were another set of footprints. He quickened his walk, not wanting to lose the prints as the rain washed them away.
He was led farther into the woods, and the grassy rasps lengthened the deeper he went. In a few minutes, he stopped. He kneeled down, staining his jeans with more mud. What he saw restored upon his face a widened smile.
A wicked smile.
There, half buried in the grass and mud, was a glimmer of gold.
A golden cross.
Her cross.
He reached out his arm, chiseled and built, and dug his fingers into the mud. He used his pinky to hook the necklace, and pulled its hidden half out of the mud. Then he held it up to the sky, the blue a contrast to the gold. The heavenly drops of rain washed away the grime on the necklace, and the cross shined brightly.
[ Marietta, Georgia - inside || September 25 || 03.41am ]
The darkness shrouded her vision. The muscles in her body called out, helpless, motionless. She didn't want to move. She didn't have the courage to move. When her eyes opened slowly, she dizziness swam in and she saw everything spinning. She closed her eyes again, wanting to wish away her fears. Wanting to wish away her reality.
But reality remained.
Scully's stomach growled. She hadn't eaten in at least 24 hours. Her body felt damaged, both by a lack of energy and a lack of esteem. Scully looked up at the ceiling. Its whiteness etched in the sharp paint drippings. A dagger-sharp reminder of what she was experiencing.
Horror. Complete horror and dementia.
Scully took in a deep breath, then gasped at the pain the soulful air brought with it. Her lungs hurt. She assumed two rib bones were cracked. To observe, Scully moved ever so slightly to avoid touching the swellings on her ribcage. She kept her body still, only reaching her arm and examining herself. Where her fingers touched, her skin responded with goosebumps, her skin fevered in the cold.
The floor she lay on was flat and hard. The floor she had laid on for several hours after she lost consciousness was comforting her, it provided a stiffening relief for her back. But the stiffening was bringing her body temperature down.
When Scully breathed, she could see her wispy breaths in the cold damp room. The dampness brought on a numbed sense of feeling, rushing the symptoms of shock hurriedly towards the inevitable. Trying desperately to stay calm, Scully cleared her mind of any negative thoughts, concentrating on only how to escape.
How to survive.
Having nothing left to risk but her life, which she ultimately decided was no longer such a risk, Scully shifted her position. With all her effort, she pushed herself onto her left side. Scully scoped out the room, her eyes wandering over the details. She was determined to sketch a picture of the room, and plan her escape.
The escape from a madman.
The room had few furniture accessories in it. There was a sofa in front of her and Scully couldn't see past it. Near her legs, a coffee table made of mahogany and a separate chair from the sofa. Above her head, there was a crystalline chandelier. Its crystal lights dangled, and the lights reflected off and created a dazzling mirage of images on the walls.
Scully listened.
There was not a sound in the room. Or anywhere else. Somewhere, Scully knew, was a man who would return and make her life death. She had no time to waste. Scully ignored the pain in her body, and shakingly pushed herself up from the floor.
When she finally did, she sighed. Her breath showing the work she had accomplished. The air rose up in a smoke-like sequence. For support, Scully leaned up against the sofa back. It's lush leather gave her a relief. It chased away her fears. But only for a moment. For what she heard, made the fear rush back.
The light switch.
It clicked on and off, shining upon the room, then faded as soon as it came. The light was no longer on. And darkness loomed.
The madman had returned.
[ Marietta, Georgia - inside || September 25 || 03.53am ]
She hadn't heard him walk back into the house. She hadn't heard anything since he captured her. Scully froze. She panicked, not knowing what to do, then it hit her. 'Hide.' Gathering up the last of her strength she pressured all her weight onto the sofa, and lifted herself from the floor. She hurried, pausing every few milliseconds as she thought she heard his breathing. Ignoring all the pain and blood-rush, Scully leaned back and rolled onto the front side of the sofa.
Just as Ugene walked into the room, he saw a shadow disappear from the wall. He took in a deep breath and sighed loudly, knowing and wanting the woman to hear his entrance.
To warn her of her time.
Holding her breath, Scully laid silently and motionless on the sofa cushions. Behind her, she could hear a sigh, a loud sigh. She could feel his presence. She needn't sense him with effort. His entrance brought with him something frightening. She could hear something dripping onto the hardwood floor.
Constant dripping.
He looked down, seeing the water dangle at the edge of his shirt and then drip onto the floor. He looked around his house, on the walls he had picture frames. Photographs of his family. His mother, and father, and himself. He turned his head at each one, then stopped. He saw something. Something reflected.
Not something.
But someone.
The woman.
Still keeping calm, Scully was thinking through her head a plan. She then saw the moonlight dim around her, and she turned her head, in time only to see something shiny launched toward her head.
[ Marietta, Georgia - outside || September 25 || 04.10am ]
Cold. Wet. She was numb. Things were being moved. 'No,' she was being moved. Scully blinked her eyes open, seeing her surroundings blur in motion. Her arms were flailed out above her head, and she could see someone in front of her pulling at her legs. The coldness awakened her, the wetness scared her.
She was outside.
With each constant drag and lengthy pull, Scully felt the roots and scraggly rocks scrap alongside her back. She cried out, but no words came, only her own dry grasps. The rain fell on top of her, each drop feeling like pins stinging her skin.
Scully tried to observe, but the rain fell into her eyes and the mud and grime prevented her from seeing any thing clearly. She was helpless, she could only go along for the ride, until he stopped.
He was tired again. Ugene had dragged her deep into the woods now. No one would find her here. He didn't care that there was a path, because if they did find the woman, by that time, she would be dead. He puffed against the damp air, the rain streaking down his hair and mixing in with his sweat. He hadn't yet reached the place, he had to go some more. Ugene continued his journey.
Her skin began to bleed again. The rocks had slashed through her blouse in several places, and the rocks and roots jabbed her, cut her, and with every inch of ground, blood rubbed up against the earth.
She couldn't tell what day it was, she didn't care. She couldn't tell what time it was, she didn't care. She couldn't survive this torture, she didn't want to.
The rain poured on the two figures in the woods. The rain washing away all the blood that trailed, all the evidence that could have been found, if only time wasn't the enemy, and nature wasn't the criminal.
Flashes of lightning began to strike, and thunder roared as the man kept at his pace, dragging the woman's limp body through the woods. The flashes were bright, they came in and out of vision as Scully fought to stay conscious. She was seeing lightning face to face, and she wanted it to strike her dead.
She wished she was dead.
[ Marietta, Georgia - inside || September 25 || 04.22am ]
"We're inside the building, and we've searched it. No one's here. But people were here. I think we should get..."
The first thing he saw was the blood. In the rooms was blood. On the carpet and the wall, and the floor in the living room. Mulder knelt down near the hardwood floor, rubbed his finger into the blood and lifted it up to his eyes. Up close, he saw the redness, the color of blood. He wanted to wish it away, but he just stared at it.
"Mulder!"
His stare broke, and Mulder wiped the blood from his finger onto his beige overcoat. He went over to the officer, and found the answer to his prayers.
"I think he must've taken her into the woods further up that hill. You can still see some shoe prints. We should call for back up and hurry, there's a storm coming soon."
Without a word, Mulder rushed out towards the forest. Each step of each foot, replaced the ones the rain was quickly washing away.
"Scully, I'm coming."
[ Marietta, Georgia - outside || September 25 || 04.31am ]
"We're here."
The man stopped and dropped the woman's feet into the mud. He turned around and saw her. She was drenched and puddled with mud, the blood from her face had washed away, but the stains of red remained near her shoulder. Ugene neared the woman, he knelt down besides her and reached his right arm out towards her face. With his fingers, he gingerly touched and felt her jaw-line.
She was beautiful. Her skin was still soft, and her face still emitted signs of life. Her breathing was slow, and her eyes were closed, but he knew she was only resting. He stared at her features in the rain, her hair was mud-brown, and her body was pink. The rain doused her blouse transparent, and Ugene could see the damage.
Her bruises were formed in an directional angle downwards. Her ribs seemed a slight purple and blue. He could see her bra; it was beige, hidden underneath the white blouse. He pondered her beauty for such a statuette petite woman.
He couldn't resist her. He wanted her now. In the rain. And he would take her.
Thunder clapped loudly as Scully felt someone warm climb on top of her. She flickered open her eyes, and the rain dripped in. She closed them, but not before she saw the madman straddle his legs on each side of her chest. Scully opened her mouth to scream, but a large rough hand clasped over her mouth.
"I know of the secrets beyond time."
And with those words, the man pulled from behind, his knife, switched the blade out and raised his arm and flung it down into the woman's stomach.
Scully screamed, but the sound was muffled.
A tree had fallen in the forest, but there was no one to hear.
And it was like the tree never fell at all.
[ Marietta, Georgia - outside || September 25 || 04.25am ]
The men were combing the forest as well as they could, but to no avail yet. They didn't know where to look. They didn't know how to look. For their callings of the woman were answered with only the sound of thunder, and their search were answered with only the flashes of lightning.
They were desperate, they tried. Mulder was desperate, he tried. Each person was yelling out the woman's name, but Mulder didn't speak a word. Perhaps he was more frightened of the answer he would receive than the answer he would not.
With the rush of things, the officers armed themselves with dogs and flashlights. Even with all the cautions taken, and all the looking, no one noticed a man slip away and slip out from the opposite side of the forest. The man's tshirt was dripping with rain-washed blood, and as the man ran onto the road in a blind fiery of happiness; he hadn't noticed the incoming car.
And in the mix of thunder and lightning, the man was struck in a high speed accident and flung over the roof of the car. He landed behind the car, on his back. The car screeched to a sudden stop, and a man wearing glasses stepped out. He walked over to the body, and shielded his glasses from the rain. Then he opened his coat pocket and unfolded a sheet of paper.
Surely he wasn't mistaken. AD Skinner identified the man he hit as Ivan Millard Ugene.
Dead.
[ Marietta, Georgia - outside || September 25 || 04.55am ]
Her body was huddled up in agony, tight as a ball. She had her arms bearing her stomach, clutching it tightly, trying to keep herself from going deeper into shock. She knew she was losing too much blood too fast. Her breathing went from short rasps to slow long breaths. Her vision dimmed in and out, from black to white.
Scully was laying in a puddle of red mud. She was curled up, but her body was still suffering. The rain and cold winds were lowering her body temperature quickly, and with each intake of air, her body shook more rapidly out of control. She could feel the chills running through her body, her skin soaking in the wetness of the rain, blood and mud.
She was dying.
Her left hand was extended inches from her face. The man had taken it and put something in it as he whispered to her, his last words.
"There is no God."
Her hand shook and Scully loosened her fingers. Her hand opened up, and inside on her palm, was her cross. Shining in the rising sunlight. She could see the necklace interlaced with her fingers, but with her last breath, her last violent shake of fear and warmth, her hand lost its power and the cross fell into the mud and sank in as the rain washed over it.
Scully uttered her last words, in hopes of defying the madman.
"God, please help me."
As she felt the blood in her drain away and her body stop shaking, she closed her eyes from life. A last vision of a bright light and muffled words came from a man who now believed in God, and who wore her blood on his overcoat.
"Scully, I'm here."
[ END ]
[ SECRETS BEYOND TIME // Part 2 of 2 END ]
EMAIL: [email protected]
WEBSITE: http://nychen.com/xf/
CATEGORY: xfiles || angst
RATING: PG-13 || violence
SUMMARY: a madman takes scully prisoner.
SPOILERS: none
DISCLAIMER: i don't own anything except this story.
ARCHIVE: post anywhere just remember to give me credit and links
WRITTEN: 01.23.98
LAST UPDATED: 05.07.02
[ SECRETS BEYOND TIME // Part 1 of 2 ]
[ Unknown location - outside || Unknown time ]
It was raining outside. The wind blew the raindrops in a slanted direction, and the tree branches flung themselves freely about. The sky was a deep navy blue, enriching its glow onto the eerie clouds.
The rain soaked itself into the man's tank top. The original white color was dirtied in mud and had splashes of red everywhere. The man stretched out his arms, welcoming the water falling from above. His mouth opened, and his tongue lashed out for some of the liquid.
Then the man wearing the stained shirt closed his mouth, and brought down his arms. He walked farther away from the house, leaving it behind. His footprints led into the woods, as beside them, were another set of footprints. He quickened his walk, not wanting to lose the prints as the rain washed them away.
He was led farther into the woods, and the grassy rasps lengthened the deeper he went. In a few minutes, he stopped. He knelt down, staining his jeans with more mud. What he saw restored upon his face a widened smile.
A wicked smile.
There, half buried in the grass and mud, was a glimmer of gold.
A gold cross.
Her cross.
He reached out his arm, chiseled and built, and dug his fingers into the mud. He used his pinky to hook the necklace, and pulled its hidden half out of the mud. Then he held it up to the sky, the blue a contrast to the gold. The heavenly drops of rain washed away the grime on the necklace, and the cross shined brightly.
[ Unknown location - inside || Unknown time ]
She hadn't heard him walk back into the house. She hadn't heard anything since he captured her. He tried reasoning with her, tried persuading her to make it easy for herself, to welcome his coming into her life. But she didn't listen, she didn't hear anything he tried to say, and so he made it difficult for her.
He hadn't wanted to make things difficult, but she left him with no choice. First, he told her that all she had to do was lay on the floor. But she didn't follow his orders. This had made him mad. Second, he told her that all she had to do was to take off her clothing. But she didn't follow his orders. This made him furious. Thirdly, he told her that all she had to do was say three words to him. But again, she didn't follow his orders. Again, this inferiorated him.
But this time, she struck on his last nerve. And he lost control.
He walked up to her, closing her into the room corner. His shadow hovering over her small figure. He reached out to touch her, but she flinched. Her flinch was sequence to a number of reactions.
She flinched, and kicked him in the knee. She had squeezed herself tightly against the wall and used that force to kick him. She then fell forward and crawled on her knees away from him. He laid on the floor for a few seconds, for the injury gave her only a few seconds to get away.
But the man got up and stepped even closer to her. And landed a powerful fist into her back. Scully screamed aloud and her chin hit forcibly against the carpet floor. She couldn't get up, for he had her wrists tied behind her back.
The impact of his fist forced all the oxygen out of her lungs. The impact of her chin forced her teeth to cut her lips. The lushish blood flowed onto the carpet beneath her cheek. Scully could taste the bitterness and the pain. She couldn't help but to moan and to continue seeking large intakes of oxygen.
The man stood a foot away, grinning in his happiness. He could hear her whimpering on the floor. His ears were perked and he wanted more from her. With his boot, he pushed her body and flipped her over onto her back. The woman now laid in front of him, for him to take. To conquer.
Scully slightly opened her eyes, only to see the face of the man she now feared. He got closer, intentionally invading her privacy. Her space. Her body. Scully tried to inch away using her legs, but the man hurriedly straddled on top of her and sat heavily on her hips.
The man's weight surprised Scully, for her eyes opened more widely. She moaned, not knowing that the more she did, the more the man wanted her. She tried desperately to move, to free her arms, but his weight on top of her's pressed down on her hands. They were pushing into her back, and she clenched her jaw, trying to forget the ever- growing pain.
The man warranted her attention. He licked his lips and Scully's eyes were soon immediately inline with the madman's. She didn't want him to know she feared him. But she knew he knew.
His eyes were a shade of green. Emerald green, mesmerizing and clearly insane. The expression on his face didn't change, except for his wicked smile. They stared at each other for what seemed like an infinity. But she couldn't take it anymore.
Scully broke the stare.
She looked away, and he parted his lips and leaned closer to her face. He whispered quietly, as if he was telling her a secret.
"Don't move."
Scully squinted, as if looking for a reason, and she got it just as quickly. While in the midst of thought, Scully hadn't noticed the man reach behind his back and pull out his knife.
The man took his eyes off the woman, and looked at his knife. Its stainless steel color blazed in the window light.
"The Gator-Edge knife. That's what the professionals call it," the man said as he pressed a button, and a blade flashed through the air, "Useful for anything, useful for everything. Its 7 inches long weighing just under 3 ounces. It's made in - Italy."
At that word, Italy, Scully noticed the man paused. And she looked from the knife to the man's face, bearing a grim smile. But it returned as he saw her watching him.
"You want to see it?" the man grinned again, and neared the knife closer to the woman's face. "Be patient."
Scully was alert now. This man was opening himself up to her. Telling her details that he needn't tell her, and she needn't know. This was not a good sign. For most criminals only reveal themselves if they plan to get rid of their victim. Scully shivered. And she vowed to pay attention to every word and movement the madman made.
The man slowly put the knife down beside the woman's head. And again, he reached behind his back and pulled something out. A handkerchief. He pulled it straight and let it hang loosely, as if to let her see the designs on it.
It had the initials IMU.
Suddenly the man flung the handkerchief in the air, twisting it into a rope-like form. He smiled.
Scully knew what was coming.
"Lift your head and open your mouth."
She refused, disobeying his orders again. She didn't move, but only parted her lips to say 'No.'
The man kept his smile. Then lifted his body inches off from the woman's. He looked into her eyes, seeing the relief as more than twice her body weight was eased off. But then he sat back down, with a downward force that surprised the woman, whose body arched inwards just enough so that the man could hurriedly wrap the handkerchief around and tie it around her jaw. The force had opened the woman's mouth enough to shove the handkerchief knot into.
Feeling dumbstruck, Scully tried to speak through the handkerchief, but everything she said, came out as a mumble. And the man grinned.
Scully struggled underneath him, and the man reached for the knife. Scully froze as the knife gingerly touched the skin on her neck. The man leaned close and whispered.
"Don't move."
Holding the knife in his left hand, the man ran the edge of the blade across Scully's collarbone. With his right hand, he gingerly moved his fingers underneath Scully's blouse. His fingers, rough with touch, ran along her ribs, feeling each bone's structure.
Scully dared not move. She could feel the blade digging into her tender skin. She could feel the fingers chilled against her body. They were cold. And her body tightened its muscles against its intruder. Scully dared not move.
His fingers ran along down her ribcage, and he felt her body tighten. He moved his fingers onto her stomach, feeling her muscles, a toned body that was yet so tender.
Suddenly the man took out his right hand and brought it up to her face to stroke her hair. She gasped. He continued on. Sweeping aside the hair on her cheeks. He then saw the red liquid. The blood from her cut lips had smeared a bit alongside her right cheek. Digging the knife deeper across her collarbone, he fingered his right hand and smeared the blood more. Playing with the liquid, he looked the woman in the eyes, and lifted his index finger towards his mouth.
Scully stared, not blinking. The man's index finger had some of her blood on it. The man brought it near his lips, parted them, and licked the blood off slowly. Scully stared, not blinking.
"Yum."
Insanity. The man's emerald eyes were insane. Scully blinked and the blade slashed across her neck. It was quick, a millisecond of pain and the blood began to flow again. Scully gasped, and coughed. Choking on her own saliva. She was afraid. She could not conquer her fears.
He conquered her.
[ Riverdale, Georgia || Unknown time ]
He was obsessed. The search was endless. He felt like he was the only man looking for her. No one was helping him. No one was able to control him. His thoughts were constantly on her. And he didn't want to stop thinking.
Then it happened.
A clue.
"Agent Mulder, the local police spotted the car several miles off highway I 85. We think it's her blood."
Hope.
Finally, a drop of hope in a lake of prayers.
Mulder grabbed his overcoat and ran out after the officer. The photograph he was examining flew from the desk and landed underneath it. It was a black and white photograph from the security camera that last caught sight of a woman being dragged away from her own apartment hallway. The date stamped in the corner of the photograph was September 23. Three days after, she was still missing.
She was Dana Katherine Scully.
[ Unknown location - inside || September 24 ]
He waited until she stopped coughing. It annoyed him. He wanted more from her. He needed more from her. And he was going to get it.
Anyway he desired.
The tears watered her eyes, and Scully worried for her blurred vision. She needed every sense. She sniffed and her senses worked their way into her memories. She smelled him. His odor stifled her, the scents of musky cologne nauseated her. She could smell his sickness. She could taste her own blood. And she licked her lips, they were dried and she hadn't notice until now.
He was still smiling when she eyed him. With the blade only inches away, Scully was afraid of moving, fearing another one of the madman's reaction.
The man, tired of playing, exchanged his smile for a grimmer face. One that was serious, one that was the master of pain. His features seemed to darken in the moonlight. Scully took notice. His eyes were no longer glowing as bright, his pupils dilated and they stayed tiny blots, and she saw his muscles tense.
Scully mumbled a plea.
But the man didn't hear. He didn't want to hear. He was tired. He used his fingers and ran them along the woman's neck. Along where she was cut. He smeared the blood along the cut. And pressed the skin as he smeared the blood. He felt the woman wince, but he only pressed harder. Then when his fingers came to the deepest cut, his fingers paused. He used his two fore-fingers and parted them as they each took a side of the cut. His fingers pulled apart at the woman's tender skin, ripping the wound and causing more bleeding, more pain, more pleasure for him.
Her moan came out as a cry for him to stop. But Scully knew the effect was the opposite, and she could not stop the pain. The throbbing in her head, from the piercing stab into her back, the burn on her lips, and the rip of her skin. She could almost feel a literal parting of the Red Sea. And she knew that her only hope lay in prayers, for she would not be able to stop the madman from stopping the pleasure he took from her life until she had no more life in her to take.
And Scully wanted to die.
[ Jonesboro, Georgia || September 24 || 12.53am ]
"Where is she?"
Mulder was desperate. He knew the longer she was gone, the less of a chance she would return alive. He was a desperate man. A man now whose life depended upon evidence found, whose life depended on the survival of the woman he loved.
"Here! Mulder, get over here!"
"What?! What is it?"
"I think, I'm pretty sure its Agent Scully's badge."
Her badge. His arm reached to hastily grab the badge from the officer's hand. Mulder flipped the badge open, sighing a relief as he saw the picture. Her picture. Her ID.
2317-616.
[ Unknown location - outside || September 25 || 02.11am ]
"Wake up little girl."
He took pleasure from making her his inferior. His voice came across as demanding, yet it was spoken gently, as if he was warning her to stay awake so she would know to fear him.
Scully shivered at the voice. It's deep calling, it's calling for death. She laid still on the floor, where he had left her. Opening her eyes, the dizziness swam in. All of reality struck at once, and Scully dry heaved. Her eyes closed, not ever wanting to open again, and her body positioned itself ready to hibernate until it gained back all its nutrients and energy.
But the madman had other plans.
When the woman didn't move at his command, the anger inside him began to build. He clenched his jaw, his hands got sweaty and his eyes twitched. It was time the woman learned her lesson. He didn't care if she was a federal officer of the law. No law was going to save her from his wrath.
His arms reached out with power and grabbed the woman's wrists. He had cut the ropes loose and taken off the handkerchief when she was asleep, for he had the conscience of a man, he wasn't an animal. Or maybe he was. For now, he wanted meat. And she was his.
As his hands held tight, Scully slumped back even more, preventing the man from moving her without effort. She then fought to loosen her wrists, for his grasp was tightly held onto where the ropes had previously bound her, and the marks were of damaged skin, pink and rash burned.
When the man decided to let go, Scully fell onto her back; her head dizzy as ever. What she wasn't prepared for were the kicks to her ribs. His boot had steel toes, and with each pounding kick to her ribs, Scully yelped in agony. She tried to shelter herself by shrinking into a little ball, clasping her arms around her head, and bending her knees towards her head to block the kicks. But somehow, they still reached her bones, and after several minutes, Scully was ready to collapse and give into darkness.
Her body had taken its toll, the bruises were forming with every kick. Her hips hurt, and her ribs were screaming for mercy. But throughout the ordeal, Scully kept her mouth shut, not wanting to tempt the man. Not wanting to give him any pleasure.
With this non-verbal stimuli, the man gave the woman on the floor one more hard kick to the hand covering her head. He could at least see the blood beginning to flow from her body. The blouse was growing weary and had blotted red stains in several places. He stopped the kicking, happy to see the woman shivering. Seeing her quiver and shake involuntarily with pain. He smiled.
He was eager to say something. But he held his tongue. She wasn't worth talking to. He pulled her up, not caring if she struggled, for his strength was 10 times hers, as was his size. He grasped her by her shoulders, for he had weakened her so that she could barely stand up straight. Handling her with shoves and pushes, they made it to the doorframe of the next room.
Scully could feel herself slipping away, her body wanting to give in. She couldn't see where she was going, the blood from her cut forehead was dripping over her eyelids. She could taste the new blood in her mouth, her nose was bleeding, maybe even broken. The steel toe had smashed her hand bones and she had heard the bones break as it sandwiched between her face and the shoe.
She was too weak. She was too vulnerable. She was too desperate for help. She was giving in.
The man pushed her, but Scully's legs wobbled with each step forward, and the next push from the man, landed her on the ground. She didn't even have the strength to leverage her face from hitting the floor.
"Get up!"
The voice thundered in her ears, but she didn't really hear. She didn't want to hear. Her brain didn't want to function. Scully just laid on the floor, wanting to end it all before the end came to get her. She could only force a small mumble from her bloodied lips.
"Please..."
[ Jonesboro, Georgia || September 25 || 02.17am ]
They should be flying. Or at least driving faster than they were. Mulder could not sit still. If he had his way, he would've chosen to drive himself, but AD Skinner wouldn't allow it. He kept thinking 'Why? Why didn't he trust me?' But that didn't matter much anymore.
Soon, his thought wondered back to the case. This wasn't happening. Or was it. 'The past is the past, that's what I have to focus on. I need to think.' Mulder kept silent in the car ride to the house.
The investigating officers and him had traced the vehicle license plate number to a tag issued in Marietta, a few miles off from where the vehicle was found. They then linked a man by the name of Ivan Millard Ugene, who lived in an old abandoned house far off the roads of the highway.
Ugene was clear of any previous charges, his record was clean. Maybe the man wasn't the man they were looking for, but Mulder had to try. He had to risk his hunch on something, anything to keep looking for his partner. She was at stake, and his career didn't matter compared to that fact.
Mulder grew impatient. His thoughts were trained on her, and he couldn't help himself.
"Can't you drive faster? We don't have time to waste. She doesn't have much time!"
He then felt his seatbelt tug, and the car was in motion. Speeding toward its rescue for a woman whose time had come.
[ Marietta, Georgia - inside || September 25 || 02.31am ]
"Bitch!" shouted Ugene as he rubbed his ankle. The woman on the floor wasn't regretting her actions. But she would soon. He hadn't expected her to bite his ankle when he neared her. She was going to get it.
In fiery, his eyes dimmed and formed slits. His breathing pressured, and he pulled her up from the floor. 'Damn bitch!' he thought, then he saw the perfect punishment for her. Ahead was the fireplace, built inside stones.
Ugene smiled his wicked smile.
[ CONTINUED IN PART TWO ] [ SECRETS BEYOND TIME || Part 2 of 2 ]
[ Marietta, Georgia - inside || September 25 || 02.41am ]
The man's chiseled and built arms reached down and grabbed the woman up straight. His arms pushed her towards the wall, and the ragged knife-like stones torn away at her flesh, ripping through several tender layers of skin on her right shoulder.
Scully clenched her jaws as she let out a loud moan. The tears from her eyes held tight and were kept back by the anger, the desire for revenge, and the pain.
Landing hard on her knees, Scully grasped her right arm and hugged it closer to her body, but close behind her, was him again. Ugene reached out and pulled her up, dragging her across the floor, past the bloodied carpet, staining it with fresh blood. He had wound his fingers deep into her copper red hair, each finger threaded with fiery.
Scully didn't fight.
Not because she didn't want to, but because she no longer had any strength left. The constant throbbing in her head and all over her body chilled her bones. She ached from head to toe. Her neck strained back at an arch as she felt her body bump into the furniture in the room. Each time, each bump, she would moan in pain.
Then it just stopped.
The tears flowed freely, mixing with blood, as the strands of her hair struggled to stay bound to her scalp. The room looked oblivious and Scully lost any memory of where she had been taken.
Ugene tugged at the hair, each time, her moan would follow. He loved it. Every bit, the medicine that he craved, seeing someone suffer. Sadist. He was born to enjoy other's pain. And this woman, he had the most pleasure torturing.
He tugged harder, the woman twitched. Her body although weak, would limply move about and try to escape. But she had played his game too long, and he had weakened her too much.
One more time.
He tugged harder, she moaned louder. He looked down at the woman, her arm still grasping her shoulder, which was now bleeding tremendously. He cared not.
Or did he.
For his fingers let loose the handful of copper 'wires,' and the woman's head dropped to the floor, hitting the cement.
A final moan.
[ Marietta, Georgia - outside || September 25 || 03.30am ]
It was raining outside. The wind blew the raindrops in a slanted direction, and the tree branches flung themselves freely about. The sky was a deep navy blue, enriching its glow onto the eerie clouds.
The rain soaked itself into the man's tank top. The original white color was dirtied in mud and had splashes of red everywhere. The man stretched out his arms, welcoming the water falling from above. His mouth opened, and his tongue lashed out for some of the liquid.
Then the man wearing the stained shirt closed his mouth, and brought down his arms. He walked farther away from the house, leaving it behind. His footprints led into the woods, as beside them, were another set of footprints. He quickened his walk, not wanting to lose the prints as the rain washed them away.
He was led farther into the woods, and the grassy rasps lengthened the deeper he went. In a few minutes, he stopped. He kneeled down, staining his jeans with more mud. What he saw restored upon his face a widened smile.
A wicked smile.
There, half buried in the grass and mud, was a glimmer of gold.
A golden cross.
Her cross.
He reached out his arm, chiseled and built, and dug his fingers into the mud. He used his pinky to hook the necklace, and pulled its hidden half out of the mud. Then he held it up to the sky, the blue a contrast to the gold. The heavenly drops of rain washed away the grime on the necklace, and the cross shined brightly.
[ Marietta, Georgia - inside || September 25 || 03.41am ]
The darkness shrouded her vision. The muscles in her body called out, helpless, motionless. She didn't want to move. She didn't have the courage to move. When her eyes opened slowly, she dizziness swam in and she saw everything spinning. She closed her eyes again, wanting to wish away her fears. Wanting to wish away her reality.
But reality remained.
Scully's stomach growled. She hadn't eaten in at least 24 hours. Her body felt damaged, both by a lack of energy and a lack of esteem. Scully looked up at the ceiling. Its whiteness etched in the sharp paint drippings. A dagger-sharp reminder of what she was experiencing.
Horror. Complete horror and dementia.
Scully took in a deep breath, then gasped at the pain the soulful air brought with it. Her lungs hurt. She assumed two rib bones were cracked. To observe, Scully moved ever so slightly to avoid touching the swellings on her ribcage. She kept her body still, only reaching her arm and examining herself. Where her fingers touched, her skin responded with goosebumps, her skin fevered in the cold.
The floor she lay on was flat and hard. The floor she had laid on for several hours after she lost consciousness was comforting her, it provided a stiffening relief for her back. But the stiffening was bringing her body temperature down.
When Scully breathed, she could see her wispy breaths in the cold damp room. The dampness brought on a numbed sense of feeling, rushing the symptoms of shock hurriedly towards the inevitable. Trying desperately to stay calm, Scully cleared her mind of any negative thoughts, concentrating on only how to escape.
How to survive.
Having nothing left to risk but her life, which she ultimately decided was no longer such a risk, Scully shifted her position. With all her effort, she pushed herself onto her left side. Scully scoped out the room, her eyes wandering over the details. She was determined to sketch a picture of the room, and plan her escape.
The escape from a madman.
The room had few furniture accessories in it. There was a sofa in front of her and Scully couldn't see past it. Near her legs, a coffee table made of mahogany and a separate chair from the sofa. Above her head, there was a crystalline chandelier. Its crystal lights dangled, and the lights reflected off and created a dazzling mirage of images on the walls.
Scully listened.
There was not a sound in the room. Or anywhere else. Somewhere, Scully knew, was a man who would return and make her life death. She had no time to waste. Scully ignored the pain in her body, and shakingly pushed herself up from the floor.
When she finally did, she sighed. Her breath showing the work she had accomplished. The air rose up in a smoke-like sequence. For support, Scully leaned up against the sofa back. It's lush leather gave her a relief. It chased away her fears. But only for a moment. For what she heard, made the fear rush back.
The light switch.
It clicked on and off, shining upon the room, then faded as soon as it came. The light was no longer on. And darkness loomed.
The madman had returned.
[ Marietta, Georgia - inside || September 25 || 03.53am ]
She hadn't heard him walk back into the house. She hadn't heard anything since he captured her. Scully froze. She panicked, not knowing what to do, then it hit her. 'Hide.' Gathering up the last of her strength she pressured all her weight onto the sofa, and lifted herself from the floor. She hurried, pausing every few milliseconds as she thought she heard his breathing. Ignoring all the pain and blood-rush, Scully leaned back and rolled onto the front side of the sofa.
Just as Ugene walked into the room, he saw a shadow disappear from the wall. He took in a deep breath and sighed loudly, knowing and wanting the woman to hear his entrance.
To warn her of her time.
Holding her breath, Scully laid silently and motionless on the sofa cushions. Behind her, she could hear a sigh, a loud sigh. She could feel his presence. She needn't sense him with effort. His entrance brought with him something frightening. She could hear something dripping onto the hardwood floor.
Constant dripping.
He looked down, seeing the water dangle at the edge of his shirt and then drip onto the floor. He looked around his house, on the walls he had picture frames. Photographs of his family. His mother, and father, and himself. He turned his head at each one, then stopped. He saw something. Something reflected.
Not something.
But someone.
The woman.
Still keeping calm, Scully was thinking through her head a plan. She then saw the moonlight dim around her, and she turned her head, in time only to see something shiny launched toward her head.
[ Marietta, Georgia - outside || September 25 || 04.10am ]
Cold. Wet. She was numb. Things were being moved. 'No,' she was being moved. Scully blinked her eyes open, seeing her surroundings blur in motion. Her arms were flailed out above her head, and she could see someone in front of her pulling at her legs. The coldness awakened her, the wetness scared her.
She was outside.
With each constant drag and lengthy pull, Scully felt the roots and scraggly rocks scrap alongside her back. She cried out, but no words came, only her own dry grasps. The rain fell on top of her, each drop feeling like pins stinging her skin.
Scully tried to observe, but the rain fell into her eyes and the mud and grime prevented her from seeing any thing clearly. She was helpless, she could only go along for the ride, until he stopped.
He was tired again. Ugene had dragged her deep into the woods now. No one would find her here. He didn't care that there was a path, because if they did find the woman, by that time, she would be dead. He puffed against the damp air, the rain streaking down his hair and mixing in with his sweat. He hadn't yet reached the place, he had to go some more. Ugene continued his journey.
Her skin began to bleed again. The rocks had slashed through her blouse in several places, and the rocks and roots jabbed her, cut her, and with every inch of ground, blood rubbed up against the earth.
She couldn't tell what day it was, she didn't care. She couldn't tell what time it was, she didn't care. She couldn't survive this torture, she didn't want to.
The rain poured on the two figures in the woods. The rain washing away all the blood that trailed, all the evidence that could have been found, if only time wasn't the enemy, and nature wasn't the criminal.
Flashes of lightning began to strike, and thunder roared as the man kept at his pace, dragging the woman's limp body through the woods. The flashes were bright, they came in and out of vision as Scully fought to stay conscious. She was seeing lightning face to face, and she wanted it to strike her dead.
She wished she was dead.
[ Marietta, Georgia - inside || September 25 || 04.22am ]
"We're inside the building, and we've searched it. No one's here. But people were here. I think we should get..."
The first thing he saw was the blood. In the rooms was blood. On the carpet and the wall, and the floor in the living room. Mulder knelt down near the hardwood floor, rubbed his finger into the blood and lifted it up to his eyes. Up close, he saw the redness, the color of blood. He wanted to wish it away, but he just stared at it.
"Mulder!"
His stare broke, and Mulder wiped the blood from his finger onto his beige overcoat. He went over to the officer, and found the answer to his prayers.
"I think he must've taken her into the woods further up that hill. You can still see some shoe prints. We should call for back up and hurry, there's a storm coming soon."
Without a word, Mulder rushed out towards the forest. Each step of each foot, replaced the ones the rain was quickly washing away.
"Scully, I'm coming."
[ Marietta, Georgia - outside || September 25 || 04.31am ]
"We're here."
The man stopped and dropped the woman's feet into the mud. He turned around and saw her. She was drenched and puddled with mud, the blood from her face had washed away, but the stains of red remained near her shoulder. Ugene neared the woman, he knelt down besides her and reached his right arm out towards her face. With his fingers, he gingerly touched and felt her jaw-line.
She was beautiful. Her skin was still soft, and her face still emitted signs of life. Her breathing was slow, and her eyes were closed, but he knew she was only resting. He stared at her features in the rain, her hair was mud-brown, and her body was pink. The rain doused her blouse transparent, and Ugene could see the damage.
Her bruises were formed in an directional angle downwards. Her ribs seemed a slight purple and blue. He could see her bra; it was beige, hidden underneath the white blouse. He pondered her beauty for such a statuette petite woman.
He couldn't resist her. He wanted her now. In the rain. And he would take her.
Thunder clapped loudly as Scully felt someone warm climb on top of her. She flickered open her eyes, and the rain dripped in. She closed them, but not before she saw the madman straddle his legs on each side of her chest. Scully opened her mouth to scream, but a large rough hand clasped over her mouth.
"I know of the secrets beyond time."
And with those words, the man pulled from behind, his knife, switched the blade out and raised his arm and flung it down into the woman's stomach.
Scully screamed, but the sound was muffled.
A tree had fallen in the forest, but there was no one to hear.
And it was like the tree never fell at all.
[ Marietta, Georgia - outside || September 25 || 04.25am ]
The men were combing the forest as well as they could, but to no avail yet. They didn't know where to look. They didn't know how to look. For their callings of the woman were answered with only the sound of thunder, and their search were answered with only the flashes of lightning.
They were desperate, they tried. Mulder was desperate, he tried. Each person was yelling out the woman's name, but Mulder didn't speak a word. Perhaps he was more frightened of the answer he would receive than the answer he would not.
With the rush of things, the officers armed themselves with dogs and flashlights. Even with all the cautions taken, and all the looking, no one noticed a man slip away and slip out from the opposite side of the forest. The man's tshirt was dripping with rain-washed blood, and as the man ran onto the road in a blind fiery of happiness; he hadn't noticed the incoming car.
And in the mix of thunder and lightning, the man was struck in a high speed accident and flung over the roof of the car. He landed behind the car, on his back. The car screeched to a sudden stop, and a man wearing glasses stepped out. He walked over to the body, and shielded his glasses from the rain. Then he opened his coat pocket and unfolded a sheet of paper.
Surely he wasn't mistaken. AD Skinner identified the man he hit as Ivan Millard Ugene.
Dead.
[ Marietta, Georgia - outside || September 25 || 04.55am ]
Her body was huddled up in agony, tight as a ball. She had her arms bearing her stomach, clutching it tightly, trying to keep herself from going deeper into shock. She knew she was losing too much blood too fast. Her breathing went from short rasps to slow long breaths. Her vision dimmed in and out, from black to white.
Scully was laying in a puddle of red mud. She was curled up, but her body was still suffering. The rain and cold winds were lowering her body temperature quickly, and with each intake of air, her body shook more rapidly out of control. She could feel the chills running through her body, her skin soaking in the wetness of the rain, blood and mud.
She was dying.
Her left hand was extended inches from her face. The man had taken it and put something in it as he whispered to her, his last words.
"There is no God."
Her hand shook and Scully loosened her fingers. Her hand opened up, and inside on her palm, was her cross. Shining in the rising sunlight. She could see the necklace interlaced with her fingers, but with her last breath, her last violent shake of fear and warmth, her hand lost its power and the cross fell into the mud and sank in as the rain washed over it.
Scully uttered her last words, in hopes of defying the madman.
"God, please help me."
As she felt the blood in her drain away and her body stop shaking, she closed her eyes from life. A last vision of a bright light and muffled words came from a man who now believed in God, and who wore her blood on his overcoat.
"Scully, I'm here."
[ END ]
[ SECRETS BEYOND TIME // Part 2 of 2 END ]