Here's the other half. Enjoy! Marcia
An hour of searching the attic had revealed little to the agents other
than the fact that Scully had an allergy to dust. Mulder sat down on a
trunk that he had just rummaged and exhaled slowly. "Nothing here. Not
even a scrapbook. Mrs. Fenmore has a very impersonal attic."
Scully sneezed and sat down next to him. "Don't you find that just a
bit odd in and of itself. No pictures, no old newspaper clippings, not
even a wedding album. You'd think…" She looked up and saw her partner
staring at the opposite wall as though mesmerized. "I'm talking to you,
Mulder."
"And you're doing a very good job of it too, Scully." Mulder forced a
smile. "Doesn't seem to you like this is a small attic for a big house?"
Scully looked around her. "Come to think of it, yes."
"Usually this older homes have dormers that are centered. This one
has the dormer off-center. At least, it looks that way from inside."
Scully followed his gaze. "A false wall?"
Mulder nodded and pointed his finger at the wall in front of him like
he was holding a gun. He slowly pulled the make believe trigger and
made a clicking sound with his tongue. "I'm betting a sliding panel or
something."
Scully walked over and began to rap gently on the wood. A solid thunk
resounded back at her and she moved on another few inches. Thunk.
Thunk. Thunk. One hit after the other produced the same sound. She
stopped when she hit an old chivarobe and continued on the other side.
Thunk. Thunk. "Nothing Mulder."
Fox stood up and walked over to the large piece of furniture and pushed
it. It gave slightly so he pushed harder. "Hey, Scully, give me a hand."
Scully shrugged her shoulders and joined him in pushing against the
wardrobe. "It's no use, Mulder, it's not moving." She leaned against
the wall gasping for breath.
He stepped out and stared for several moments at the heavy wooden
furniture. Reaching out, he opened the doors and began pulling old
gowns out of it and laying them on the boxes and trunks that cluttered
the attic. Then, he stepped inside. "C'mon in Scully."
Scully shook her head. "It might be a bit crowded."
Mulder stuck his head out and grinned at her. "Not at all, lots of
space." He held out his hand and she took it letting him guide her into
the chivarobe. She stepped through into the other half of the attic.
The dust and disorder was left behind and she found herself standing in
a neatly kept room with a large overstuffed chair and a table that held
an ornate lamp with a tasseled shade. It wasn't the chair that held her
attention. It was the opposite wall with its manacles and chains that
drew her attention. The contrast was astounding from one side of the
room to the next, but it was the brown coloring that covered the wood
floor that left her gagging. Someone had bled a great deal.
Mulder walked over and pulled experimentally on the chains that were
welded to the wall. "Interesting rec room."
Scully shrank back until the chair hit the back of her knees dumping
her unceremoniously on the seat. Seated, the full view of the area was
brought home very quickly and she hastened to stand up. "Let's get out
of here."
Mulder dropped the chains and left them clank against the wall. "Yeah,
I have a few questions to ask Mrs. Fenmore. Like how many men have bled
to death in this house."
******
The old woman sobbed gently when they confronted her. She seemed to
age a dozen years and shrivel into herself. "I thought it would stop
when they had gone. It should have stopped."
"Talk to me, Mrs. Fenmore." Mulder's voice was gentle and soothing.
"I want to believe you. Just talk to me."
The red-rimmed eyes found his brown ones and he smiled encouragingly.
"Tell me about the others. The ones that came before."
"I have a sister…no, I had a sister…she's dead, but she's not gone."
She took his hand and held it like a lifeline. "You do understand,
don't you?" She glanced up at Scully who was maintaining a clinical
detachment. With no help coming from that quarter, she returned her
gaze to Mulder. "Cynthia was a wild child. She loved men, and she
gloried in what she could do with them. My father was always an
extremely jealous man. When he found out that Cynthia had already given
herself, he was furious. He found the young man that she was seeing,
took him up to the attic and forced her to watch as he chained him to
the wall, cut his wrists and left him to bleed to death. She was
heartbroken…and defiant. Whenever she would show interest in another
man, Father would remind her of the chair in the attic. Eventually, her
needs would grow stronger than her fear and she would meet with someone
else. Father always found out." The old voice petered out slowly as
the old memories surfaced and Ruth Fenmore was reliving the horror of
the decades past. "I rather liked that Peter. He always brought me
chocolate. It took him a long time to die." Mulder shot Scully a look
that screamed I told you so.
"Ruth." He rubbed her hands gently and pulled her face back to meet
his. "Tell me about Cynthia. What happened to Cynthia?"
"She's dead." Ruth stared at him like he was a bit crazed. "You know
she's dead. She went up to that room and watched her own blood flow
away. Then Father died as well. He needed her, not me. He follows her
now keeping her safe from men." The old woman began to laugh softly and
rock back and forth on the chair. "She even seduced my Steven and
Father killed him for it. My husband…my love."
Scully touched Mulder on the shoulder and pulled him away from earshot.
"You don't really think that a ghost is seducing men and then another
one is draining their blood? That is a bit bizarre even for an X-file."
"Bizarre or not, I know what I felt last night. I'm certain that the
first time was the father and the second time was Cynthia. The others
must be the poor souls that she seduced."
"Would you listen to yourself?" Scully pulled away from him. "Mulder…"
"A succubus, Scully!" He was becoming exasperated. "A ghost with a
yen. She desires, she takes, then the father steps in and retaliates.
That's how that poor guy died." Scully shook her head. "No."
"Yes!" Mulder was warming to his subject. "It works. Can't you see
that? That's why they die from loss of blood. He isn't physical
anymore so he doesn't need to actually cut them."
Scully tried to reason with him again. "If that is true, then why
hasn't he tried to kill you."
"He did." Mulder shivered. "Remember the hypothermia?"
"That was before the midnight encounter." Scully felt like she was
pointing out the obvious.
Mulder shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe it was a warning. Maybe he'll
come back tonight…or she will."
Scully shook her head but a worried look crossed her face. "I hope
you're wrong. We can't leave until the road opens."
******
Scully sat on the bed in her room fully dressed. She glanced at the
picture of the girl she now knew was Cynthia and tried not to be
horrified. She looked deeply into the picture half expecting to see the
flames leap up behind her, but the gladiolas remained firmly in place.
Swallowing hard, she pulled her jacket a bit tighter against an imagined
coldness and waited.
The knock on the door brought her to her feet in a leap. "Who is it?"
"It's me." Fox's familiar voice drifted through the heavy door. "If
it's all the same with you, I don't want to be alone."
She walked over and opened the door. Fox was leaning against the frame
with a soft smile playing across his face. "Can I sleep with you?"
Scully laughed nervously. "I wasn't planning to sleep much."
"Oh, good." Fox wiggled his eyebrows. "We can tell each other ghost stories."
She stepped aside and left him walk into the room. "Let's talk about
something else."
He slipped past her and jumped on the bed. "Whatever your pleasure."
Scully smiled and lay down on the bed next to him. "I think I'll try
to get a bit of sleep." She glanced up at the portrait of Cynthia and
then closed her eyes. If they stayed together, it would be just fine.
******
When Scully awoke, it was still dark but she could tell something was
wrong. She felt for the gun that was in her coat and found its
reassuring presence. Then she reached over to wake Mulder. The bed was empty.
She jumped up and turned on the light expecting him to be standing at
the window or seated in the chair, but the room was empty. A chill
passed up her spine and she swung around to stare at the picture of
Cynthia. The horrified look was back and the flames behind the girl
were actually moving, as they appeared to devour the background of the
painting. One of the figures on the ground writhed in agony and tried
to stand up.
Running through the hallway, she found the attic door and pulled on the
handle. The door was locked. "MULDER! MULDER!" She yanked the door
as hard as she could, bracing her leg against the wall for leverage.
"MULDER!" Stepping back, she took aim and fired three rounds into the
door hardware. She braced her leg again and then pulled with all her
might. The splinters of wood flew as the door gave tumbling her
backward into the wall. Righting herself, she flew up the steps and
fell into Ruth Fenmore who was sitting on a trunk in the front part of
the attic rocking back and forth and crooning.
"Mrs. Fenmore!" Scully shook her. "Where's Mulder? Where is he?"
The old woman looked up at her through tearful eyes. "They took my
Steven too you know."
Scully hurled herself against the doors of the chivarobe knowing that
they would be locked tight. The concussion reverberated up her arm and
she knew that she would be bruised. Stepping back, she threw her weight
against it again and then again. She was soon rewarded with the sound
of the old wood giving under the repeated impacts but the door remained
tightly shut. Half-sobbing, she banged on the doors. "MULDER!" "MULDER"
Gasping for breath, she listened carefully. The only sound were the
gentle sobs of Ruth Fenmore behind her. She shivered as the coldness
she had felt in her room returned and drifted over her. Desperate, she
turned and began to talk to the attic. "Cynthia, if that's you, help
me. Do something. Don't let him join the others just because you
needed to hold someone." There was no answer but the small eddies of
heat and cold stopped leaving only the cold behind. "Cynthia, you might
have not been as strong as your father when you were alive, but dead,
he's no longer a threat to you. Can't you see that? You can stand up
to him now." The cold seemed to gel and become thick. "Cynthia, do you
want to see him die?" The doors of the wardrobe swung open of their own
accord. "Thank you." Scully mouthed the words as she dove into the opening.
Fox was lying against the wall of the room. Scully stepped forward and
was stopped by a coldness that felt like glass. "I have to help him.
Let me pass."
A sound much like wind filled the small room even though there were no
windows. "This is wrong. He did nothing. Your daughter wanted him, he
didn't want her."
The wind howled stronger and she felt her hair move from her face.
"Don't you think you've fed the flames long enough? How many innocent
sacrifices are you going to make?"
The wind died down suddenly and Scully almost fell forward as the
resistance to her pushing disappeared. Startled, she looked up to see
Ruth Fenmore standing in the room. "Father, you have done enough. You
have taken everyone and everything from Cynthia and from me." The voice
cracked. "Especially from me. I would have given you everything you
wanted, but you didn't ask. It was always Cynthia." The old woman
pulled herself up to her full height and pulled off an almost regal
bearing that shocked Scully. In the dim light of the attic, she did
look beautiful. "I have never asked you for a thing, but I'm asking now.
Leave him be."
A blast of frigid air filled the small room and then was gone. Scully
ran to Mulder and lifted his head off the floor. Holding him in her
arms to warm him, she turned to the old woman. "Thank you."
"He's gone." The woman whispered brokenly. "He's really gone. I've
held on to him all these years thinking that he would love me."
Scully looked down at Mulder and took his pulse with her fingertips.
"He did, Ruth. He gave you what you asked for."
Ruth smiled before turning and leaving the room.
******
Mulder practically danced down the stairs to where Scully was waiting.
"You look perky." Scully laughed at him. "Not at all like a man who
just barely escaped becoming a ghost."
Mulder smiled at her. "Yep, it feels good to be alive. We'll go back,
write this up, and…" "Nobody will believe us." Scully finished for him.
His face fell momentarily as he sighed. "True, but we keep trying."
Scully nodded. "That makes the X-files the rental car company of the
agency. We try harder." Mulder laughed. "We're on our way to Number one."
Ruth Fenmore walked down the hallway to stand next to the two agents.
"I have a great deal to thank you for."
"And we have a great deal to thank you for." Scully reached over and
gave her a hug. "You chose a great time to tell off your father."
"He's gone." Ruth nodded. "He won't be back."
Mulder's eyes got wide and he jumped down the last three steps barely
missing Scully. Scully turned to him in surprise. "What got into you?"
Mulder straightened his suit and looked outraged. "Someone pinched me."
"Pinched you?" Scully's eyes widened. "Pinched you where?"
Ruth laughed. "Father's gone, but I still have company."
Mulder gave a half smile and then backed out the front door. "I'll
meet you in the car Scully."
Scully looked up the staircase. "And thank you, Cynthia." Laughing,
she hugged Ruth and hurried after her partner.
All characters trademarked by Fox Television and the X-files creator,
Chris Carter.Storyline copyright 1999 Marcia Colpan All Rights Reserved