[X-Files] Fanfic: L'Étreinte du Vampire Sanglant (Casefile, Mulder & Scully, R-violence)
Title: L'Étreinte du Vampire Sanglant
Author: Colebaltblue
Pairing/Character: Mulder, Scully
Word Count: 6,420
Rating: R (violence)
Spoiler Warning: no specific ones
Summary: An X-File taking place season 5-ish (although really could be any season). Agents Scully and Mulder investigate the murder of Kate Davies, a young woman in New York City. Mulder believes the work to be of a sinister vampire, Scully has other theories.
A very big thank you to tlynnfic for the beta and encouragement and for staying up with me last night while I finished writing this.
Written as a final gift for pukajen in xf_santa.
Scully could see the glow of the light from the office spilling out of the open doorway as she made her way down the hallway. She could hear the clack of the computer keys and then the interruption of the shuffling papers from inside.
"Morning Scully," Mulder greeted her, eyes intent on the papers he held in his hands, as she turned into the office.
"Good morning Mulder," she said, setting her briefcase on the chair. "Hard at work on a Monday morning I see. Did you even go home?"
"Scully, you wound me!" Mulder looked up at her. "The cafeteria doesn't serve hot sandwiches on Sundays so I have to go home for something."
She handed him a cup of coffee that she had picked up for him on her way in. He took it with a sparkle in his eyes and smiled his thanks.
"Wait until I tell you about our new case."
Scully took a sip of her coffee and braced herself for what was coming. Moving her briefcase to the floor she took a seat in the chair across the desk from him, crossing her legs and settling in. The excitement was pouring off of him in palatable waves brining to mind a Fox Terrier quivering in anticipation. She smiled at the thought.
"Oh yeah?" she prompted.
"Yes. It's a tale of murder, intrigue, darkly romantic heroes and the theater."
"I saw that one, wasn't the guy wearing a mask?" Scully tipped her head to the side, playing his game.
"Ha, ha. Very funny, Scully," he said, well aware he was being mocked. "No. This is even better."
"Oh, do tell."
"Even better than that. I'll show." He stood up, grabbed his jacket and an envelope that she knew from experience would contain her plane tickets. "I"ll meet you at the airport in two hours and maybe, if you're nice, I'll even save you a seat at the gate!" He disappeared out the door, leaving her standing there with her cup of coffee, the envelope, and her briefcase on the floor next to her.
For a moment she considered being upset with him. Knowing Mulder's types of cases they would be gone for days and would probably lose at least one suit in the adventure. What if I had plans tonight? She thought to herself. You know, a date wouldn't be completely outside of the realm of possibility, she continued before rolling her eyes. She didn't, he knew that, she knew that, and they both knew that he'd be sprawled across two seats at the gate in an hour and a half and that when she arrived 5 minutes after him he'd make a big show of having to move over for her.
She picked up the folder containing the case notes from their last case that she had left on his desk in a Sisyphean hope he'd finally type them up himself and stuffed them in her briefcase and followed him out the door locking it behind her.
***************
Mulder watched as Scully walked down the terminal, prim and proper in her suit that looked a size too big for her. They have a petites section for a reason, he thought to himself. She was carrying her briefcase and pulling a rolling a suitcase behind her. He watched as she spotted him and navigated the rushing crowds to walk over to where he sat.
"Curious?" he said as he begrudgingly gave up the seat next to him. She just looked at him in response. He waited, hoping she'd take the bait.
Finally, "well, since you're so eager to tell me, I'll just let you."
"Did you ever see 'Halloween', Scully?" Mulder asked, settling in to the chair and the story. He looked out the corner of his eye at her while locking his fingers together behind his head, elbows askew.
"Of course I did, my girlfriends and I would watch it on sleepovers to prove to each other how tough we really were."
"Oh?" Mulder asked, looking her up and down with his harmless leer, "did you sit around in your underwear playing Truth or Dare too?" "You're sick, you know that?"
"Before there were horror movies spilling blood and guts all over the silver screen, there was horror theater."
Grand Guignol, Scully thought to herself, but kept quiet, letting Mulder tell the story at his pace.
"Its heyday the roaring twenties in Paris, but New York had a thriving horror theater scene all of its own. Every night, patrons would file in to the theater, sit in their seats, and be shocked and horrified as they watched nubile young women be raped and murdered."
"Yes, because that is exactly what I would like to do with my Saturday night."
"They would alternate horror and comedy shows every night," he continued, "just to break it up. Usually it would be a short horror play followed by a short comedy, and then a slightly longer horror show."
"So we are going to be investigating non-existent theaters, patronized by long-dead men and women?" she asked.
"Scully, where is your sense of imagination?" he asked, putting his hand over his heart and feigning hurt.
"I left it behind two cases ago when you had me autopsy that cow that someone had sewed a goat head on to."
"Rumor has it, that in one of these theaters, there was actual killing going on," he continued, trying to entice her.
"Mulder, please tell me we are not going to," she consulted her ticket, "New York City, just to investigate seventy year old murders?"
"Not seventy year old ones, Scully, recent ones." He reached into his bag and pulled out a case file, one without the 'X' designation and handed it to her.
Scully opened it and looked through it, "So we will be investigating a murder? Where is the x-file in that?"
"It is said that if you kill a young virgin and bathe in her blood you will live for ever. People who did so were considered vampires. Throughout history there have been documented cases of, mostly women, murdering young women and virgins and bathing in their blood. It was said that as one of the most famous actresses of the theater in New York never aged. It was said that as she got older, she got shut out of the prime roles and the younger women who took them began to disappear. She would step in at the last minute and take their place. One day, she disappeared herself. However, she reappeared not quite two years later calling herself something different. Young women who hung around the theater continued to disappear, but the new leading lady always got the prime roles."
"So we're going to be going to investigate seventy year old murders of virgins by a washed up actress?" Scully tried not to get excited at what appeared to be a fairly normal case, as far an x-file went.
"No, we're going to be finding this murdering actress, who has apparently never stopped murdering." Mulder could tell that Scully, despite herself, was interested. "Two college students went to explore the old theaters after a lecture on the plays by one of their professors. The guy swears that one-minute she was with him, the next she had disappeared without a sound. Her exsanguinated body was found three days later in an alleyway two blocks away. We're going to investigate."
"… And instead of this being a simple murder case involving a girl, the guy from class who had a crush on her, and two very overactive imaginations - not including yours of course - you're convinced it is a dead or at least very near death actress from horror theater?"
"Essentially, but I don't think my imagination has any bearing on this case."
"Let me guess, the guy contacted you and begged you to clear his good name by finding the unaged actress who is the real killer?"
"It's a good case, Scully."
Scully sat up as she heard their flight called and began gathering their bags.
"Just tell me one thing, Mulder. If we were going to be investigating a form of theater that began in Paris, why, oh why, could you not have found a murder case there to investigate." She said as she turned headed down the jetway.
Mulder smiled after her. Maybe he'd consider buying her a new suit from Macy's on this trip. She would probably forgive him then.
Scully made her way down the dank basement hallway lined with racks of medical equipment, looking for suite 201. She adjusted her visitor's badge as she rounded the last corner and spotted the double doors just in front of her. Taking a moment to straighten her jacket, she stuck her chin out and opened the door. One of the city's medical examiners was bent over an exam table, his back to her. He stood and turned to face her as she entered.
"I'm Dr. Scully," she said, stepping forward.
"Oh, right, from the FBI?" he said, stripping off his gloves. He stepped over to a pile of folders and started looking through them. "You're here about the Davies case, correct?"
"Yes," Scully replied as he selected one and glanced through it.
"It's a pretty run-of-the-mill case, I'm not quite sure why you'd be interested, but here you are," he said, handing it to her.
Scully looked through it, making note of the the cause and manner of death and the additional notes about the crime scene.
"The body hasn't been released yet, it is in storage if you'd like to look over it yourself. I'm sure we can find an exam table for you."
Scully nodded and made her way over to a table shoved against the wall on the other side of the room. She found a spare set of scrubs and an extra smock in the female locker room and got changed. They pulled Kate Davies out of cold storage and set her up on the extra exam table. The medical examiner before her had done an excellent job on the autopsy and had sewn the body up neatly afterwards. Any samples would be useless, but Scully checked over the condition of the body, made note of the small puncture wound on the neck. A long, thin, cylindrical instrument is what the medical examiner ruled, inserted directly into the neck where it pierced the jugular.
Almost no blood had been found at the crime scene, indicating that Davies had bled out elsewhere and had most likely been moved to the location she was found at. There were no other obvious physical marks or signs of trauma from the outside. Davies' file indicated, however, that she had suffered blunt force trauma to the back of her head where she had been struck with a large and heavy object. If any evidence were to be found of Davies' murder, it would probably be in the form of a bloody awl, a big bat, and an awful lot of blood, but not much else.
"Do you know when the body will be released?" she asked, after she finished her exam
"Yeah, her parents are coming in to identify her later today, we'll release the body to them. Did you need anything else?"
"No, if you could just have copies of the autopsy and the notes made and sent over to my hotel, I would appreciate it." Scully stripped off her gloves as looked at Kate's young and beautiful face, now cold and lifeless but no less pretty as it had been in life no doubt.
Scully stripped off her borrowed scrubs and showered in the locker room. She left after extracting a promise from the examiner that he would personally ensure the files made it to her hotel that evening. Now, it was time to track down Mulder, who was no doubt finding plenty of trouble of his own to get into.
***************
She stepped into the dark and decaying theater, the smell of dust and age was almost overwhelming. Someone had set up construction lights on stands on the stage, offering patches of bright light on the stage and backstage area and even darker shadows just beyond which only contributed to the essence of decay in the building. The theater showed a rotting grandeur, hinting at its former glory.
"Scully!" Mulder shouted, his head popping up from the orchestra pit. "It's incredible, isn't it?"
She made her way down the aisle as he jumped the wall and started up towards her.
"What is incredible is that this space has been left to molder in this city, instead of being torn down and converted into retail or residential space."
"This was the scene of the crime, so to speak, many times a night. The stage is still stained from all the stage blood." Mulder said, gesturing widely about him, inviting her to imagine the theater with him.
"Captivating, I'm sure. But, what does this have to do with finding Davies' killer? Do you think she was killed here in the theater?"
"No, probably not here. Perhaps nearby. Let's take a moment though, Scully, and savor the history of this place."
"What I'd like to do, Mulder, is find out who killed Kate Davies and go home."
"Spoilsport."
Scully gave Mulder a look. He turned to walk back down the aisle towards the stage and she followed him up the steps and on to the stage. The theater showed even more of its age from up here. Scully looked up, scanning the rafters, seeing the hanging ropes, broken chains, and burst sandbags.
"This isn't the best part though, Scully. The best part is down below." Mulder gestured and turned backstage. She followed him through a side door and down a narrow set of stairs which spilled them out into a hallway lit by a row of single, hanging, bare bulbs.
"Mulder, please tell me we're not breaking and entering?"
"Kinda spooky, huh?" he said, looking over his shoulder at her. "No, I got the key from the property manager with the help of a detective friend I have here."
"Yeah, real spooky. Where are you taking me?"
"There are three levels of this, dressing rooms, practice rooms for the orchestra, prop rooms, costume rooms, they just go on and on."
Scully stopped as he opened another door and peeked inside. "Mulder, what are we looking for?"
"Who, Scully. Elizabeth, Countess Bathory."
"Who?"
"She was the lady Dracula. She bathed in her subject's blood, thinking it would lead to eternal life. According to legend she murdered hundreds of her subjects all in the quest for eternal beauty and life."
"And you think she is here?"
"No, but I think whoever is here is doing the same thing and I think Kate Davies was just her latest victim." Mulder turned to look at her in the doorway of the prop room. "Think about it Scully, if you had the key to eternal life, would you be able to say no?"
Scully raised an eyebrow at him. "Mulder, I am going back upstairs, then I am going down to the county office and getting a hold of a copy of the blue prints for this place. Then, we will come back with a team and we will search it for evidence of Kate Davies' murder."
"Can you grab me a hot pastrami on your way back please?"
He turned around, already intent on the next clue around the next corner.
Scully shook her head and headed back up the stairs.
***************
"What have you got?" Mulder said, sitting down at the seat across from her in the deli.
"You have a hot pastrami, I have a turkey on wheat. We both have the blueprints to the theater which I had to sweet-talk a clerk into releasing." Mulder smiled at her, before picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.
"You're right about the three levels, but it appears that the plans for the third level were half-finished. I was also able to track down and locate that property manager and she has some time to meet with us there this evening."
Mulder smiled around a mouthful of pastrami. He chewed and nodded at her.
"This is the best pastrami I've ever had."
"Mulder!"
"All right, but first we're going to the public library to do a little research."
"On Lady Dracula?"
"No, on Theater Grand Guignol. I hope you brought your Dramamine Scully, we're going microfilming for the afternoon!"
Mulder leaned over Scully as she scanned through the newspapers. She had tried for over an hour to get him to sit down and work on his own machine, but he would leap up and interrupt her own work at every opportunity. They had eventually tracked down a name, Sylvia Barr, the top billed actress at the theater. Sylvia had headlined almost every major show produced by the theater for years. There were very few news stories about the theater or Sylvia, but plenty of gossipy quips in the society pages and once the murders started, the occasional sensational news story.
"Mulder, this is strange, either Sylvia started out as a mature-looking twelve year old and quit working as a very young looking thirty-two year old. Or, she worked twenty years without appearing to age a day." Scully pointed at the pictures she had found of Sylvia, one from early in her career, introducing her as the new leading actress of the theater and the other from about twenty years later taken outside of a police station after Sylvia was brought in for questioning about the murders.
"Quit working?"
"She must've, I can't find any record of her after Laboratory of Hallucinations in 1937, about two years after the murders began. She's never billed for another play after that, either as a lead or even a bit part. The newspaper never mention her again either."
Mulder murmured in agreement, scanning the advertisement for Laboratory of Hallucinations, a play about a doctor who catches his wife and her lover together, as revenge he performed a lobotomy on the lover, turning him into a zombie. It promised plenty of gratuitous nudity and violence.
"Keep scanning Scully," Mulder said, flicking his finger down the page. "Go forward a few years."
Scully scanned quickly into 1940 and found the section advertising Theater Grand Guignol. "The Horrible Passion," she read off the microfilm.
"A nanny who kills her charges, then herself," he continued. "Scully, look at the picture. Does that look familiar?"
"You mean, of the main actress?"
"Yeah."
"Mulder, it's just a drawing, you're not suggesting-"
"That it's Sylvia?"
"Yes, that it's Sylvia, in fact, it doesn't even list her, this is Carrie Potter who plays the nanny."
"Carrie Potter who bears and uncanny resemblance to Sylvia?"
Scully looked up at Mulder, furrowing her eyebrows, "Mulder, it's a drawing, in fact, the artist probably was the same artist and was just used to drawing Sylvia and kept the same style for the lead actress in the playbill."
"Regardless, print it out and let's go."
"Go where?"
"While you've been getting seasick I've tracked down the son of the last owner, a William Pillion, living right here in the city."
"And let me guess, we have an appointment with him?" Scully began gathering up her things.
"Right, in forty minutes, which gives us barely enough time get across town to his apartment." They headed out.
***************
William hadn't been able to help them much beyond offering up a few photo albums that his father had saved. According to him, his father had left most of the stuff unsorted in boxes, which were currently in the attic of a farmhouse in Connecticut. Mulder had asked him if William had remembered any of the theater, but he simply claimed he was too young to remember anything. Mulder had taken a few photos of Sylvia and Carrie from him with the promise to return them as soon as they found out what happened in his theater.
They had returned to the theater just around nightfall to meet a friendly property manager named Cassandra who had let them back in to the theater.
"We have problems with the kids breaking in more often than we'd like. The alarm system here doesn't have motion censors in all the rooms or hallways, so if they manage to get in through a window without breaking it, they can usually get pretty far into the building before tripping a silent alarm."
Cassandra led them through the darkened theater and down a set of stairs to the lower levels.
"I hear you got a copy of the blueprints of the building? That's excellent, it will save us a lot of trouble. I've been managing this property for five years now and haven't been down here except a couple of times. You probably know it better than I do at this point."
"What do you know about the theater?" Mulder asked, catching up with Cassandra as she headed down a corridor.
"Oh, not much, only that it was a former horror-show theater and a lot of the property belonging to the theater is still stored down here. Mister Pillion isn't interested in selling the building, though. I think it's sentimental to him."
"What about any ghost stories, or stories about strange happenings around here?" Mulder asked. Cassandra led the way down to the lowest level.
"Oh, those. Well, like all old buildings it has its fair share. Mostly ones having to do with the plays, them actually being real and all that, instead of just pretend. There was a nasty rumor floating around about one of the actresses, though, that she never aged and murdered girls to somehow stay young. I never got how that was a ghost story, though."
"An actress who never aged?" Mulder was intrigued. Mulder and Scully split the hallway, each opening doors and looking in the rooms with their flashlights.
"Well, I know it was before the years of plastic surgery, but you never know. Women have always gone to great lengths to remain young. Maybe that woman just went too far, you know? So people just started rumors about her." Cassandra followed them, peeking into the rooms around them.
They reached the end of the hallway. "This level is about half the size the blueprints say it should be," Scully remarked, staring at the door at the end of the hallway. "Where does this door lead?"
"That door? That door leads to a brick wall, near as I can tell. I don't think they ever finished this lower level."
"Can you open it?" Mulder asked, jiggling the locked door handle. It was the first locked door on the lower level they had encountered.
"Well, I can try my key, but we don't generally lock the doors down here so I don't know if it'll work." Cassandra stepped forward and fit her key into the lock. She jiggled it, biting her lip as she tried to turn it. "I can feel it, it wants to open, but I think it's stuck."
Mulder stepped forward and kneeled in front of the lock, looking at it. He pulled a thin tool from his back pocket and stuck it in, jimmying it slightly. The lock clicked open. He turned the door handle and the door swung quietly outward. Scully lifted her flashlight, shining it down what appeared to be a long hallway.
"Have you ever been down this way, Cassandra?"
"Yes, once, when I took over the property, but it just dead-ends in about twenty feet into a brick wall."
"If it just dead-ended into a brick wall, I think this hallways is a little too clean," Mulder said, shining his flashlight down. The floors were considerably less dusty than the ones they had just been walking on.
"Cassandra, why don't you go back upstairs and call the local police for us - have them send down a few people?"
Cassandra nodded, fear showing on her face, and turned and set off at a brisk clip up the cooridor.
"What do you think, Scully?" Mulder asked.
"I think that someone has been down here more than once in the last five years."
Scully unclipped her holster and loosened her coat jacket, feeling the adrenaline coursing through her body. Mulder moved out first, with deliberation and far less caution that she wished he'd have. His light illuminated the dark cooridor and the brick wall at the end.
They moved forward to the end and shined their lights over it. "What do you think, Scully?"
"False wall."
"Loose brick somewhere?"
"Or a pressure point."
Mulder began tapping lightly on the bricks. One sounded back slightly different. He turned to look at Scully, "Loose brick." He pushed the brick in and heard a click.
"Quick, what's on the other side?"
"Mulder…"
"Right," he said, pushing the walk open with his shoulder. It swung open with practiced ease. They moved forward together, flashlights raised.
The corridor stretched before them, dark, narrow, and disappearing into nothingness. Scully moved to Mulder's right, into their habitual positions. Mulder reached back and pulled his gun, Scully followed suite. Guns raised, flashlights pointing straight ahead they may their way down.
The noise was faint at first, just catching Scully's ears with quiet whispers. She cocked her head to the side.
"Mulder."
"I hear it, too."
The continued down the hallway, following the faint noise. Another hallway appeared out of the shadows on the left. They both slowed and came to a stop, shining their lights down it. Mulder looked at Scully, she nodded in agreement and they followed its path. The music was getting louder and louder.
The hallway abruptly ended before they had gone more than about twenty steps, but the music continued on. Scully reached out and placed her hand on the brick. It was warm to the touch.
"Mulder."
He nodded in response. Scully stepped forward and pressed her weight into the brick wall. It swung around quickly, and she stumbled after it, falling forward and into the next corridor. The wall swung shut behind her.
She righted herself and stood up, the music was playing louder still. Scully looked at the wall behind her, expecting Mulder to come through behind her. The wall remained shut. She stepped forward, slapping the wall.
"Mulder?"
"Scully?" she heard through the wall.
"Mulder?"
"Scully, it won't open."
"Lean on it," she said, anxiously.
"It won't open, Scully, it's stuck."
Scully turned around and shined her flashlight over the hallway she was now trapped in. The music was louder and there was a faint light coming from a doorway at the end.
"Mulder, get the back up, there's something down here."
"Be careful, Scully."
She stepped away from the wall and moved forward slowly and cautiously, flashlight and gun at the ready.
***************
Mulder took one last look at the wall before turning and sprinting back the way he came. He ran up three levels and burst out on to the back alley way out the rear door of the theater almost on top of a startled-looking Cassandra.
"Agent Mulder?"
"Scully is stuck down there."
A New York uniformed officer approached him, "Sir?" His squad car was parked in the alleyway, lights flashing.
"My partner is down there, trapped behind a brick wall, I need back up and someone to get her out. Now!" Mulder turned, not willing to wait for the officer, he could hear calling in on his radio.
"You!" he said, wheeling around and pointing at Cassandra, "figure out if there is another way down into the lowest level and get someone there." Cassandra nodded, eyes wide.
He turned back again and headed back through the door in the alleyway. The officer fell into step beside him, radio crackling as the call for back-up was repeated. The hallway under the theater had clearly not been uninhabited, but whether or not someone was down there with her at this moment was not a risk he was willing to take.
He could hear the police officer's boots running in step with his as he sprinted down the hallways and leaped down the stairs, back the way he had come. They reached the brick wall, the officer breathing heavier. The music was gone, the hallway eerily silent.
Mulder threw his shoulder against the brick wall; it didn't budge. He tried again. He began running his hands over the bricks, hoping for a loose one that would trigger the door opening again, but the bricks felt rough and solid under his fingertips.
"Scully?" He called, pressing his ear against the wall. He couldn't hear anything on the other side. "Scully?" He shouted, slapping his hand against the brick. In the distance he could hear the sound of the more police officers, coming up behind him.
"Sir, they brought the battering ram, stand back please," the officer said from behind him. Mulder stepped back and away, as police officers in gear lined up and swung the ram at the wall. It made contact and echoed back, the brick chipping. They swung again.
Then, Mulder heard it.
"WAIT! Stop!" he yelled, holding ups his hand, he moved forward and pressed his ear to the wall.
"Scully!" he yelled.
He heard a faint noise echo back. Turning he looked at the officers before stepping aside.
***************
Scully could hear the poundings of the battering ram against the brick wall from where she lay on the plush carpet, her head throbbing from where she had been hit. She put her hand to her forehead. The last thing she remembered was coming around and facing the doorway into a room. Then nothing.
"I wouldn't move if I were you."
Scully heard the voice and turned her head slowly to look at a blonde woman standing across the room. Scully's gun was in her hand, pointing at her. It hurt to look at her. She was dressed in an Oriental style dressing gown, her long blonde hair brushed straight and curled softly about her face. Her makeup was classic, pale, with bright red lips and dark-lined eyes.
Scully allowed her eyes to drift over the room she was in. Clothing racks were draped in cloth and dresses, a vanity was scattered with make-up and food wrappers. A pile of blankets in the corner indicated where the blonde in front of her probably slept, and a doorway into a tiled room was visable over her left shoulder. The smell of purfume only barely masked the strong metallic odor of blood, but not decay, in the room.
"I'm going to sit up now," Scully said, making her hands visible, palms facing the woman, moving slowly. The woman didn't say anything so Scully slowly raised herself up. Her head throbbed and the room spun. Concussion, she concluded.
Scully could hear the banging growing louder and more insistent. Mulder's voice was starting to carry as he shouted her name.
"They're coming for you," the woman said.
"No, they're coming for you," Scully replied. "You killed that girl, Kate, didn't you?"
The woman didn't say anything, just stared at Scully, gun steady on her. Scully could see an old record player spinning away on a table beside the woman. The source of the music.
"You killed her, here in this room."
"Yes." The woman's voice didn't change from the same low quiet tone she had been using all along.
"Why?"
A loud crash sounded from the hallway. The woman flinched, but kept the gun steady on Scully. Scully heard Mulder shout her name.
"In here!" she called back, eye's locked with the woman's. "She's got a gun."
The woman didn't move. Scully felt Mulder behind her in the doorway.
"Scully, are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she assured him. She could hear the shoes of more men, probably their back-up. The sound of the safeties clicking off told her there was at least four behind her, probably with their guns all trained on the woman before her. The woman still hadn't moved.
"Sylvia?" Mulder asked from behind her. The woman's eyes remained on Scully, but her lips twitched in a smile.
"I see you figured it out, bravo, but you're too late to save that last girl, or the next one," she said jerking her head back towards the room behind her.
Mulder moved into Scully's field of vision, hands raised.
"You were, are, a great beauty, Sylvia, and a good actress. Why did you do it?"
"Why not? I'm not the first who has killed in the quest to find eternal life, now am I?" Sylvia's smile grew, revealing white teeth, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"No, I suppose you're not," answered Mulder, moving slowly forward.
"I suppose I'm finished though now, aren't I?" she asked.
"That would depend on you, Sylvia," Mulder said, pausing.
She laughed a humorless laugh, "Not at all. Beauty and eternal life won't help me escape punishment for murder." She cocked her head to the side, transferring her gaze to Mulder, but keeping Scully's gun trained on her. "I suppose all that is left is to let me choose my own exit, now isn't it?"
"Sylvia," Mulder began.
Sylvia's eyes glittered as she slowly raised the gun to her own temple. "For my final act," she intoned softly and pulled the trigger.
The police rushed from behind Scully, swarming the body. Mulder hurried to her side and helped her up, hands running down her back, checking to make sure she was ok. She squeezed his hand briefly and stepped forward to Sylvia.
"Mulder, check the back room," she said as she knelt down, feeling for a pulse she knew wouldn't be there. Sylvia's blonde hair was marred by blood and little bits of brain matter at the exit wound, but her face was intact. It was young and beautiful now that she was close enough to see it in the low light of the room. She could hear the police behind her calling for a bus and verifying shots fired and no officers down. She looked up to see Mulder standing in the doorway. He looked grim. Catching her eye, he shook his head slowly.
She rose slowly and walked towards the back room. Inside was another young woman laying on the floor, skin pale and lifeless. The bathtub was full of blood, and the floors splashed with more blood. "She was probably preparing for another bath," Scully said to Mulder, softly.
A man in a suit came through the door into the room. Scully turned and looked at him. "The woman on the floor confessed to the murders," she said, gesturing to the blonde laying lifeless on the ground. "You'll find another body in the back room, her last victim." Scully jerked her thumb to the room behind her. The man moved forward, intent on his job.
Scully felt Mulder's hand on the small of her back, "let's get out of here." His voice broke through the rising chaos of the room.
***************
Scully could see the glow of the office light spilling out the doorway as she made her way down the hallway. Her heels clicked on the tile floor as she approached the door. The clacking of the keys on the computer beat a counter-time to her steps.
"Scully," Mulder greeted her as she entered in the office.
"Mulder," she responded.
"Jane Doe number 15671, also known as, Sylvia Barr. The medical examiner estimated she was about twenty-eight years old. There are no missing persons reports filed for someone matching her discription, no one has stepped forward to claim the body, and no one has reported knowing her." Mulder looked up from his computer screen. "The only one who seemed unsurprised by the fact that she was living in the theater was William Pillion, but he is on an extended vacation in Ireland and no one seems to know how to reach him."
Mulder reached forward and picked up a folder from his desk. He held it up for her and Scully stepped forward to take it from him. She opened it and scanned the birth certificate it contained. Sylvia Barr, she read, born in New York in 1905 to a Mary Barr and James Barr.
"Mulder, you can't…"
"The bathtub in the back room was found to contain at least six different samples of blood in it."
"Mulder, you can't gain eternal life by bathing in blood."
"I may not be able to, but I think Sylvia could."
"Mulder, she was a sociopath. Perhaps all of her family is dead, and that's why no one has stepped forward, perhaps they don't care. But, I think this," she said, waiving the folder at him, "is a coincidence. She never gave her name and never identified herself to us or the police."
"Scully…"
Scully cocked her head and looked softly at Mulder, "they NYPD said thank you for helping them collar a killer." Mulder looked at her with a mixture of exasperation and acceptance.
"Regardless, I'm still filing this under the 'V's'."
Author: Colebaltblue
Pairing/Character: Mulder, Scully
Word Count: 6,420
Rating: R (violence)
Spoiler Warning: no specific ones
Summary: An X-File taking place season 5-ish (although really could be any season). Agents Scully and Mulder investigate the murder of Kate Davies, a young woman in New York City. Mulder believes the work to be of a sinister vampire, Scully has other theories.
A very big thank you to tlynnfic for the beta and encouragement and for staying up with me last night while I finished writing this.
Written as a final gift for pukajen in xf_santa.
Scully could see the glow of the light from the office spilling out of the open doorway as she made her way down the hallway. She could hear the clack of the computer keys and then the interruption of the shuffling papers from inside.
"Morning Scully," Mulder greeted her, eyes intent on the papers he held in his hands, as she turned into the office.
"Good morning Mulder," she said, setting her briefcase on the chair. "Hard at work on a Monday morning I see. Did you even go home?"
"Scully, you wound me!" Mulder looked up at her. "The cafeteria doesn't serve hot sandwiches on Sundays so I have to go home for something."
She handed him a cup of coffee that she had picked up for him on her way in. He took it with a sparkle in his eyes and smiled his thanks.
"Wait until I tell you about our new case."
Scully took a sip of her coffee and braced herself for what was coming. Moving her briefcase to the floor she took a seat in the chair across the desk from him, crossing her legs and settling in. The excitement was pouring off of him in palatable waves brining to mind a Fox Terrier quivering in anticipation. She smiled at the thought.
"Oh yeah?" she prompted.
"Yes. It's a tale of murder, intrigue, darkly romantic heroes and the theater."
"I saw that one, wasn't the guy wearing a mask?" Scully tipped her head to the side, playing his game.
"Ha, ha. Very funny, Scully," he said, well aware he was being mocked. "No. This is even better."
"Oh, do tell."
"Even better than that. I'll show." He stood up, grabbed his jacket and an envelope that she knew from experience would contain her plane tickets. "I"ll meet you at the airport in two hours and maybe, if you're nice, I'll even save you a seat at the gate!" He disappeared out the door, leaving her standing there with her cup of coffee, the envelope, and her briefcase on the floor next to her.
For a moment she considered being upset with him. Knowing Mulder's types of cases they would be gone for days and would probably lose at least one suit in the adventure. What if I had plans tonight? She thought to herself. You know, a date wouldn't be completely outside of the realm of possibility, she continued before rolling her eyes. She didn't, he knew that, she knew that, and they both knew that he'd be sprawled across two seats at the gate in an hour and a half and that when she arrived 5 minutes after him he'd make a big show of having to move over for her.
She picked up the folder containing the case notes from their last case that she had left on his desk in a Sisyphean hope he'd finally type them up himself and stuffed them in her briefcase and followed him out the door locking it behind her.
***************
Mulder watched as Scully walked down the terminal, prim and proper in her suit that looked a size too big for her. They have a petites section for a reason, he thought to himself. She was carrying her briefcase and pulling a rolling a suitcase behind her. He watched as she spotted him and navigated the rushing crowds to walk over to where he sat.
"Curious?" he said as he begrudgingly gave up the seat next to him. She just looked at him in response. He waited, hoping she'd take the bait.
Finally, "well, since you're so eager to tell me, I'll just let you."
"Did you ever see 'Halloween', Scully?" Mulder asked, settling in to the chair and the story. He looked out the corner of his eye at her while locking his fingers together behind his head, elbows askew.
"Of course I did, my girlfriends and I would watch it on sleepovers to prove to each other how tough we really were."
"Oh?" Mulder asked, looking her up and down with his harmless leer, "did you sit around in your underwear playing Truth or Dare too?" "You're sick, you know that?"
"Before there were horror movies spilling blood and guts all over the silver screen, there was horror theater."
Grand Guignol, Scully thought to herself, but kept quiet, letting Mulder tell the story at his pace.
"Its heyday the roaring twenties in Paris, but New York had a thriving horror theater scene all of its own. Every night, patrons would file in to the theater, sit in their seats, and be shocked and horrified as they watched nubile young women be raped and murdered."
"Yes, because that is exactly what I would like to do with my Saturday night."
"They would alternate horror and comedy shows every night," he continued, "just to break it up. Usually it would be a short horror play followed by a short comedy, and then a slightly longer horror show."
"So we are going to be investigating non-existent theaters, patronized by long-dead men and women?" she asked.
"Scully, where is your sense of imagination?" he asked, putting his hand over his heart and feigning hurt.
"I left it behind two cases ago when you had me autopsy that cow that someone had sewed a goat head on to."
"Rumor has it, that in one of these theaters, there was actual killing going on," he continued, trying to entice her.
"Mulder, please tell me we are not going to," she consulted her ticket, "New York City, just to investigate seventy year old murders?"
"Not seventy year old ones, Scully, recent ones." He reached into his bag and pulled out a case file, one without the 'X' designation and handed it to her.
Scully opened it and looked through it, "So we will be investigating a murder? Where is the x-file in that?"
"It is said that if you kill a young virgin and bathe in her blood you will live for ever. People who did so were considered vampires. Throughout history there have been documented cases of, mostly women, murdering young women and virgins and bathing in their blood. It was said that as one of the most famous actresses of the theater in New York never aged. It was said that as she got older, she got shut out of the prime roles and the younger women who took them began to disappear. She would step in at the last minute and take their place. One day, she disappeared herself. However, she reappeared not quite two years later calling herself something different. Young women who hung around the theater continued to disappear, but the new leading lady always got the prime roles."
"So we're going to be going to investigate seventy year old murders of virgins by a washed up actress?" Scully tried not to get excited at what appeared to be a fairly normal case, as far an x-file went.
"No, we're going to be finding this murdering actress, who has apparently never stopped murdering." Mulder could tell that Scully, despite herself, was interested. "Two college students went to explore the old theaters after a lecture on the plays by one of their professors. The guy swears that one-minute she was with him, the next she had disappeared without a sound. Her exsanguinated body was found three days later in an alleyway two blocks away. We're going to investigate."
"… And instead of this being a simple murder case involving a girl, the guy from class who had a crush on her, and two very overactive imaginations - not including yours of course - you're convinced it is a dead or at least very near death actress from horror theater?"
"Essentially, but I don't think my imagination has any bearing on this case."
"Let me guess, the guy contacted you and begged you to clear his good name by finding the unaged actress who is the real killer?"
"It's a good case, Scully."
Scully sat up as she heard their flight called and began gathering their bags.
"Just tell me one thing, Mulder. If we were going to be investigating a form of theater that began in Paris, why, oh why, could you not have found a murder case there to investigate." She said as she turned headed down the jetway.
Mulder smiled after her. Maybe he'd consider buying her a new suit from Macy's on this trip. She would probably forgive him then.
Scully made her way down the dank basement hallway lined with racks of medical equipment, looking for suite 201. She adjusted her visitor's badge as she rounded the last corner and spotted the double doors just in front of her. Taking a moment to straighten her jacket, she stuck her chin out and opened the door. One of the city's medical examiners was bent over an exam table, his back to her. He stood and turned to face her as she entered.
"I'm Dr. Scully," she said, stepping forward.
"Oh, right, from the FBI?" he said, stripping off his gloves. He stepped over to a pile of folders and started looking through them. "You're here about the Davies case, correct?"
"Yes," Scully replied as he selected one and glanced through it.
"It's a pretty run-of-the-mill case, I'm not quite sure why you'd be interested, but here you are," he said, handing it to her.
Scully looked through it, making note of the the cause and manner of death and the additional notes about the crime scene.
"The body hasn't been released yet, it is in storage if you'd like to look over it yourself. I'm sure we can find an exam table for you."
Scully nodded and made her way over to a table shoved against the wall on the other side of the room. She found a spare set of scrubs and an extra smock in the female locker room and got changed. They pulled Kate Davies out of cold storage and set her up on the extra exam table. The medical examiner before her had done an excellent job on the autopsy and had sewn the body up neatly afterwards. Any samples would be useless, but Scully checked over the condition of the body, made note of the small puncture wound on the neck. A long, thin, cylindrical instrument is what the medical examiner ruled, inserted directly into the neck where it pierced the jugular.
Almost no blood had been found at the crime scene, indicating that Davies had bled out elsewhere and had most likely been moved to the location she was found at. There were no other obvious physical marks or signs of trauma from the outside. Davies' file indicated, however, that she had suffered blunt force trauma to the back of her head where she had been struck with a large and heavy object. If any evidence were to be found of Davies' murder, it would probably be in the form of a bloody awl, a big bat, and an awful lot of blood, but not much else.
"Do you know when the body will be released?" she asked, after she finished her exam
"Yeah, her parents are coming in to identify her later today, we'll release the body to them. Did you need anything else?"
"No, if you could just have copies of the autopsy and the notes made and sent over to my hotel, I would appreciate it." Scully stripped off her gloves as looked at Kate's young and beautiful face, now cold and lifeless but no less pretty as it had been in life no doubt.
Scully stripped off her borrowed scrubs and showered in the locker room. She left after extracting a promise from the examiner that he would personally ensure the files made it to her hotel that evening. Now, it was time to track down Mulder, who was no doubt finding plenty of trouble of his own to get into.
***************
She stepped into the dark and decaying theater, the smell of dust and age was almost overwhelming. Someone had set up construction lights on stands on the stage, offering patches of bright light on the stage and backstage area and even darker shadows just beyond which only contributed to the essence of decay in the building. The theater showed a rotting grandeur, hinting at its former glory.
"Scully!" Mulder shouted, his head popping up from the orchestra pit. "It's incredible, isn't it?"
She made her way down the aisle as he jumped the wall and started up towards her.
"What is incredible is that this space has been left to molder in this city, instead of being torn down and converted into retail or residential space."
"This was the scene of the crime, so to speak, many times a night. The stage is still stained from all the stage blood." Mulder said, gesturing widely about him, inviting her to imagine the theater with him.
"Captivating, I'm sure. But, what does this have to do with finding Davies' killer? Do you think she was killed here in the theater?"
"No, probably not here. Perhaps nearby. Let's take a moment though, Scully, and savor the history of this place."
"What I'd like to do, Mulder, is find out who killed Kate Davies and go home."
"Spoilsport."
Scully gave Mulder a look. He turned to walk back down the aisle towards the stage and she followed him up the steps and on to the stage. The theater showed even more of its age from up here. Scully looked up, scanning the rafters, seeing the hanging ropes, broken chains, and burst sandbags.
"This isn't the best part though, Scully. The best part is down below." Mulder gestured and turned backstage. She followed him through a side door and down a narrow set of stairs which spilled them out into a hallway lit by a row of single, hanging, bare bulbs.
"Mulder, please tell me we're not breaking and entering?"
"Kinda spooky, huh?" he said, looking over his shoulder at her. "No, I got the key from the property manager with the help of a detective friend I have here."
"Yeah, real spooky. Where are you taking me?"
"There are three levels of this, dressing rooms, practice rooms for the orchestra, prop rooms, costume rooms, they just go on and on."
Scully stopped as he opened another door and peeked inside. "Mulder, what are we looking for?"
"Who, Scully. Elizabeth, Countess Bathory."
"Who?"
"She was the lady Dracula. She bathed in her subject's blood, thinking it would lead to eternal life. According to legend she murdered hundreds of her subjects all in the quest for eternal beauty and life."
"And you think she is here?"
"No, but I think whoever is here is doing the same thing and I think Kate Davies was just her latest victim." Mulder turned to look at her in the doorway of the prop room. "Think about it Scully, if you had the key to eternal life, would you be able to say no?"
Scully raised an eyebrow at him. "Mulder, I am going back upstairs, then I am going down to the county office and getting a hold of a copy of the blue prints for this place. Then, we will come back with a team and we will search it for evidence of Kate Davies' murder."
"Can you grab me a hot pastrami on your way back please?"
He turned around, already intent on the next clue around the next corner.
Scully shook her head and headed back up the stairs.
***************
"What have you got?" Mulder said, sitting down at the seat across from her in the deli.
"You have a hot pastrami, I have a turkey on wheat. We both have the blueprints to the theater which I had to sweet-talk a clerk into releasing." Mulder smiled at her, before picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.
"You're right about the three levels, but it appears that the plans for the third level were half-finished. I was also able to track down and locate that property manager and she has some time to meet with us there this evening."
Mulder smiled around a mouthful of pastrami. He chewed and nodded at her.
"This is the best pastrami I've ever had."
"Mulder!"
"All right, but first we're going to the public library to do a little research."
"On Lady Dracula?"
"No, on Theater Grand Guignol. I hope you brought your Dramamine Scully, we're going microfilming for the afternoon!"
Mulder leaned over Scully as she scanned through the newspapers. She had tried for over an hour to get him to sit down and work on his own machine, but he would leap up and interrupt her own work at every opportunity. They had eventually tracked down a name, Sylvia Barr, the top billed actress at the theater. Sylvia had headlined almost every major show produced by the theater for years. There were very few news stories about the theater or Sylvia, but plenty of gossipy quips in the society pages and once the murders started, the occasional sensational news story.
"Mulder, this is strange, either Sylvia started out as a mature-looking twelve year old and quit working as a very young looking thirty-two year old. Or, she worked twenty years without appearing to age a day." Scully pointed at the pictures she had found of Sylvia, one from early in her career, introducing her as the new leading actress of the theater and the other from about twenty years later taken outside of a police station after Sylvia was brought in for questioning about the murders.
"Quit working?"
"She must've, I can't find any record of her after Laboratory of Hallucinations in 1937, about two years after the murders began. She's never billed for another play after that, either as a lead or even a bit part. The newspaper never mention her again either."
Mulder murmured in agreement, scanning the advertisement for Laboratory of Hallucinations, a play about a doctor who catches his wife and her lover together, as revenge he performed a lobotomy on the lover, turning him into a zombie. It promised plenty of gratuitous nudity and violence.
"Keep scanning Scully," Mulder said, flicking his finger down the page. "Go forward a few years."
Scully scanned quickly into 1940 and found the section advertising Theater Grand Guignol. "The Horrible Passion," she read off the microfilm.
"A nanny who kills her charges, then herself," he continued. "Scully, look at the picture. Does that look familiar?"
"You mean, of the main actress?"
"Yeah."
"Mulder, it's just a drawing, you're not suggesting-"
"That it's Sylvia?"
"Yes, that it's Sylvia, in fact, it doesn't even list her, this is Carrie Potter who plays the nanny."
"Carrie Potter who bears and uncanny resemblance to Sylvia?"
Scully looked up at Mulder, furrowing her eyebrows, "Mulder, it's a drawing, in fact, the artist probably was the same artist and was just used to drawing Sylvia and kept the same style for the lead actress in the playbill."
"Regardless, print it out and let's go."
"Go where?"
"While you've been getting seasick I've tracked down the son of the last owner, a William Pillion, living right here in the city."
"And let me guess, we have an appointment with him?" Scully began gathering up her things.
"Right, in forty minutes, which gives us barely enough time get across town to his apartment." They headed out.
***************
William hadn't been able to help them much beyond offering up a few photo albums that his father had saved. According to him, his father had left most of the stuff unsorted in boxes, which were currently in the attic of a farmhouse in Connecticut. Mulder had asked him if William had remembered any of the theater, but he simply claimed he was too young to remember anything. Mulder had taken a few photos of Sylvia and Carrie from him with the promise to return them as soon as they found out what happened in his theater.
They had returned to the theater just around nightfall to meet a friendly property manager named Cassandra who had let them back in to the theater.
"We have problems with the kids breaking in more often than we'd like. The alarm system here doesn't have motion censors in all the rooms or hallways, so if they manage to get in through a window without breaking it, they can usually get pretty far into the building before tripping a silent alarm."
Cassandra led them through the darkened theater and down a set of stairs to the lower levels.
"I hear you got a copy of the blueprints of the building? That's excellent, it will save us a lot of trouble. I've been managing this property for five years now and haven't been down here except a couple of times. You probably know it better than I do at this point."
"What do you know about the theater?" Mulder asked, catching up with Cassandra as she headed down a corridor.
"Oh, not much, only that it was a former horror-show theater and a lot of the property belonging to the theater is still stored down here. Mister Pillion isn't interested in selling the building, though. I think it's sentimental to him."
"What about any ghost stories, or stories about strange happenings around here?" Mulder asked. Cassandra led the way down to the lowest level.
"Oh, those. Well, like all old buildings it has its fair share. Mostly ones having to do with the plays, them actually being real and all that, instead of just pretend. There was a nasty rumor floating around about one of the actresses, though, that she never aged and murdered girls to somehow stay young. I never got how that was a ghost story, though."
"An actress who never aged?" Mulder was intrigued. Mulder and Scully split the hallway, each opening doors and looking in the rooms with their flashlights.
"Well, I know it was before the years of plastic surgery, but you never know. Women have always gone to great lengths to remain young. Maybe that woman just went too far, you know? So people just started rumors about her." Cassandra followed them, peeking into the rooms around them.
They reached the end of the hallway. "This level is about half the size the blueprints say it should be," Scully remarked, staring at the door at the end of the hallway. "Where does this door lead?"
"That door? That door leads to a brick wall, near as I can tell. I don't think they ever finished this lower level."
"Can you open it?" Mulder asked, jiggling the locked door handle. It was the first locked door on the lower level they had encountered.
"Well, I can try my key, but we don't generally lock the doors down here so I don't know if it'll work." Cassandra stepped forward and fit her key into the lock. She jiggled it, biting her lip as she tried to turn it. "I can feel it, it wants to open, but I think it's stuck."
Mulder stepped forward and kneeled in front of the lock, looking at it. He pulled a thin tool from his back pocket and stuck it in, jimmying it slightly. The lock clicked open. He turned the door handle and the door swung quietly outward. Scully lifted her flashlight, shining it down what appeared to be a long hallway.
"Have you ever been down this way, Cassandra?"
"Yes, once, when I took over the property, but it just dead-ends in about twenty feet into a brick wall."
"If it just dead-ended into a brick wall, I think this hallways is a little too clean," Mulder said, shining his flashlight down. The floors were considerably less dusty than the ones they had just been walking on.
"Cassandra, why don't you go back upstairs and call the local police for us - have them send down a few people?"
Cassandra nodded, fear showing on her face, and turned and set off at a brisk clip up the cooridor.
"What do you think, Scully?" Mulder asked.
"I think that someone has been down here more than once in the last five years."
Scully unclipped her holster and loosened her coat jacket, feeling the adrenaline coursing through her body. Mulder moved out first, with deliberation and far less caution that she wished he'd have. His light illuminated the dark cooridor and the brick wall at the end.
They moved forward to the end and shined their lights over it. "What do you think, Scully?"
"False wall."
"Loose brick somewhere?"
"Or a pressure point."
Mulder began tapping lightly on the bricks. One sounded back slightly different. He turned to look at Scully, "Loose brick." He pushed the brick in and heard a click.
"Quick, what's on the other side?"
"Mulder…"
"Right," he said, pushing the walk open with his shoulder. It swung open with practiced ease. They moved forward together, flashlights raised.
The corridor stretched before them, dark, narrow, and disappearing into nothingness. Scully moved to Mulder's right, into their habitual positions. Mulder reached back and pulled his gun, Scully followed suite. Guns raised, flashlights pointing straight ahead they may their way down.
The noise was faint at first, just catching Scully's ears with quiet whispers. She cocked her head to the side.
"Mulder."
"I hear it, too."
The continued down the hallway, following the faint noise. Another hallway appeared out of the shadows on the left. They both slowed and came to a stop, shining their lights down it. Mulder looked at Scully, she nodded in agreement and they followed its path. The music was getting louder and louder.
The hallway abruptly ended before they had gone more than about twenty steps, but the music continued on. Scully reached out and placed her hand on the brick. It was warm to the touch.
"Mulder."
He nodded in response. Scully stepped forward and pressed her weight into the brick wall. It swung around quickly, and she stumbled after it, falling forward and into the next corridor. The wall swung shut behind her.
She righted herself and stood up, the music was playing louder still. Scully looked at the wall behind her, expecting Mulder to come through behind her. The wall remained shut. She stepped forward, slapping the wall.
"Mulder?"
"Scully?" she heard through the wall.
"Mulder?"
"Scully, it won't open."
"Lean on it," she said, anxiously.
"It won't open, Scully, it's stuck."
Scully turned around and shined her flashlight over the hallway she was now trapped in. The music was louder and there was a faint light coming from a doorway at the end.
"Mulder, get the back up, there's something down here."
"Be careful, Scully."
She stepped away from the wall and moved forward slowly and cautiously, flashlight and gun at the ready.
***************
Mulder took one last look at the wall before turning and sprinting back the way he came. He ran up three levels and burst out on to the back alley way out the rear door of the theater almost on top of a startled-looking Cassandra.
"Agent Mulder?"
"Scully is stuck down there."
A New York uniformed officer approached him, "Sir?" His squad car was parked in the alleyway, lights flashing.
"My partner is down there, trapped behind a brick wall, I need back up and someone to get her out. Now!" Mulder turned, not willing to wait for the officer, he could hear calling in on his radio.
"You!" he said, wheeling around and pointing at Cassandra, "figure out if there is another way down into the lowest level and get someone there." Cassandra nodded, eyes wide.
He turned back again and headed back through the door in the alleyway. The officer fell into step beside him, radio crackling as the call for back-up was repeated. The hallway under the theater had clearly not been uninhabited, but whether or not someone was down there with her at this moment was not a risk he was willing to take.
He could hear the police officer's boots running in step with his as he sprinted down the hallways and leaped down the stairs, back the way he had come. They reached the brick wall, the officer breathing heavier. The music was gone, the hallway eerily silent.
Mulder threw his shoulder against the brick wall; it didn't budge. He tried again. He began running his hands over the bricks, hoping for a loose one that would trigger the door opening again, but the bricks felt rough and solid under his fingertips.
"Scully?" He called, pressing his ear against the wall. He couldn't hear anything on the other side. "Scully?" He shouted, slapping his hand against the brick. In the distance he could hear the sound of the more police officers, coming up behind him.
"Sir, they brought the battering ram, stand back please," the officer said from behind him. Mulder stepped back and away, as police officers in gear lined up and swung the ram at the wall. It made contact and echoed back, the brick chipping. They swung again.
Then, Mulder heard it.
"WAIT! Stop!" he yelled, holding ups his hand, he moved forward and pressed his ear to the wall.
"Scully!" he yelled.
He heard a faint noise echo back. Turning he looked at the officers before stepping aside.
***************
Scully could hear the poundings of the battering ram against the brick wall from where she lay on the plush carpet, her head throbbing from where she had been hit. She put her hand to her forehead. The last thing she remembered was coming around and facing the doorway into a room. Then nothing.
"I wouldn't move if I were you."
Scully heard the voice and turned her head slowly to look at a blonde woman standing across the room. Scully's gun was in her hand, pointing at her. It hurt to look at her. She was dressed in an Oriental style dressing gown, her long blonde hair brushed straight and curled softly about her face. Her makeup was classic, pale, with bright red lips and dark-lined eyes.
Scully allowed her eyes to drift over the room she was in. Clothing racks were draped in cloth and dresses, a vanity was scattered with make-up and food wrappers. A pile of blankets in the corner indicated where the blonde in front of her probably slept, and a doorway into a tiled room was visable over her left shoulder. The smell of purfume only barely masked the strong metallic odor of blood, but not decay, in the room.
"I'm going to sit up now," Scully said, making her hands visible, palms facing the woman, moving slowly. The woman didn't say anything so Scully slowly raised herself up. Her head throbbed and the room spun. Concussion, she concluded.
Scully could hear the banging growing louder and more insistent. Mulder's voice was starting to carry as he shouted her name.
"They're coming for you," the woman said.
"No, they're coming for you," Scully replied. "You killed that girl, Kate, didn't you?"
The woman didn't say anything, just stared at Scully, gun steady on her. Scully could see an old record player spinning away on a table beside the woman. The source of the music.
"You killed her, here in this room."
"Yes." The woman's voice didn't change from the same low quiet tone she had been using all along.
"Why?"
A loud crash sounded from the hallway. The woman flinched, but kept the gun steady on Scully. Scully heard Mulder shout her name.
"In here!" she called back, eye's locked with the woman's. "She's got a gun."
The woman didn't move. Scully felt Mulder behind her in the doorway.
"Scully, are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she assured him. She could hear the shoes of more men, probably their back-up. The sound of the safeties clicking off told her there was at least four behind her, probably with their guns all trained on the woman before her. The woman still hadn't moved.
"Sylvia?" Mulder asked from behind her. The woman's eyes remained on Scully, but her lips twitched in a smile.
"I see you figured it out, bravo, but you're too late to save that last girl, or the next one," she said jerking her head back towards the room behind her.
Mulder moved into Scully's field of vision, hands raised.
"You were, are, a great beauty, Sylvia, and a good actress. Why did you do it?"
"Why not? I'm not the first who has killed in the quest to find eternal life, now am I?" Sylvia's smile grew, revealing white teeth, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"No, I suppose you're not," answered Mulder, moving slowly forward.
"I suppose I'm finished though now, aren't I?" she asked.
"That would depend on you, Sylvia," Mulder said, pausing.
She laughed a humorless laugh, "Not at all. Beauty and eternal life won't help me escape punishment for murder." She cocked her head to the side, transferring her gaze to Mulder, but keeping Scully's gun trained on her. "I suppose all that is left is to let me choose my own exit, now isn't it?"
"Sylvia," Mulder began.
Sylvia's eyes glittered as she slowly raised the gun to her own temple. "For my final act," she intoned softly and pulled the trigger.
The police rushed from behind Scully, swarming the body. Mulder hurried to her side and helped her up, hands running down her back, checking to make sure she was ok. She squeezed his hand briefly and stepped forward to Sylvia.
"Mulder, check the back room," she said as she knelt down, feeling for a pulse she knew wouldn't be there. Sylvia's blonde hair was marred by blood and little bits of brain matter at the exit wound, but her face was intact. It was young and beautiful now that she was close enough to see it in the low light of the room. She could hear the police behind her calling for a bus and verifying shots fired and no officers down. She looked up to see Mulder standing in the doorway. He looked grim. Catching her eye, he shook his head slowly.
She rose slowly and walked towards the back room. Inside was another young woman laying on the floor, skin pale and lifeless. The bathtub was full of blood, and the floors splashed with more blood. "She was probably preparing for another bath," Scully said to Mulder, softly.
A man in a suit came through the door into the room. Scully turned and looked at him. "The woman on the floor confessed to the murders," she said, gesturing to the blonde laying lifeless on the ground. "You'll find another body in the back room, her last victim." Scully jerked her thumb to the room behind her. The man moved forward, intent on his job.
Scully felt Mulder's hand on the small of her back, "let's get out of here." His voice broke through the rising chaos of the room.
***************
Scully could see the glow of the office light spilling out the doorway as she made her way down the hallway. Her heels clicked on the tile floor as she approached the door. The clacking of the keys on the computer beat a counter-time to her steps.
"Scully," Mulder greeted her as she entered in the office.
"Mulder," she responded.
"Jane Doe number 15671, also known as, Sylvia Barr. The medical examiner estimated she was about twenty-eight years old. There are no missing persons reports filed for someone matching her discription, no one has stepped forward to claim the body, and no one has reported knowing her." Mulder looked up from his computer screen. "The only one who seemed unsurprised by the fact that she was living in the theater was William Pillion, but he is on an extended vacation in Ireland and no one seems to know how to reach him."
Mulder reached forward and picked up a folder from his desk. He held it up for her and Scully stepped forward to take it from him. She opened it and scanned the birth certificate it contained. Sylvia Barr, she read, born in New York in 1905 to a Mary Barr and James Barr.
"Mulder, you can't…"
"The bathtub in the back room was found to contain at least six different samples of blood in it."
"Mulder, you can't gain eternal life by bathing in blood."
"I may not be able to, but I think Sylvia could."
"Mulder, she was a sociopath. Perhaps all of her family is dead, and that's why no one has stepped forward, perhaps they don't care. But, I think this," she said, waiving the folder at him, "is a coincidence. She never gave her name and never identified herself to us or the police."
"Scully…"
Scully cocked her head and looked softly at Mulder, "they NYPD said thank you for helping them collar a killer." Mulder looked at her with a mixture of exasperation and acceptance.
"Regardless, I'm still filing this under the 'V's'."