From: Katvictory57@aol.com   
      
   TITLE: This Could Be Heaven Or This Could Be Hell Post 5 of 6   
   AUTHOR: Katvictory   
   RATING: I'd go NC17. Some nasty words. Violence.   
   CATEGORY: X-File, Angst, Alternate Universe, MT   
   SPOILERS: Clear up to "The Unnatural."   
   SUMMARY: Set in the "Into The Mystic" universe. Mulder's and Scully's   
   manhunt for a body swapping serial killer leads them to El Cajon,   
   California and a whole lotta trouble.   
   DISCLAIMERS: You know the drill -- Mr. Carter owns these people. He   
   owns the universe where they live. I expect no money. The song lyrics   
   quoted by Mulder ad nauseam are from "Hotel California" by Eagles   
   Frye and Henley. The lyrics Mulder sings to Scully are from "Only The   
   Good Die Young" by Billy Joel. I offer these artists the same   
   assurances I do Mr. Carter. I make no claim of ownership and expect   
   no money.   
   THANK YOU: So many to thank: Roda93, Idigomuse & Mori who rolled up   
   their sleeves and got their hands dirty doing the hard part, making   
   me a little less ignorant. And again, to Amy, Indi, Mori, Rae,   
   Laurie -- special people who encourage, badger, read, edit, burp me,   
   change me, and are my friends. Thank you!   
   This story is dedicated to Wong and Morgan, El Cajon Valley High   
   School Class of 1979. That's what hooked me on X-Files, learning that   
   we all attended ECVHS. The El Cajon, CA portrayed in this story is   
   pure fantasy, memories of a misspent youth. No relation to any town,   
   living or dead.   
   FEEDBACK: Please! Katvictory57@aol.com   
   Katvictory ECVHS Class of 1975   
   Go Braves!!!   
      
   "Mirrors On The Ceiling, Pink Champagne On Ice"   
      
   Fox Mulder tried the front door. It was locked. Even the churches   
   were locked these days. He hurried around to the back entrance as   
   quickly as his throbbing knee would allow, and was surprised to find   
   it open. It was a portal that led to the choir room. Pulling his   
   flashlight out, he debated going back for his partner. Wolfe was   
   probably not even at the church.   
   It was after 8:00 p.m. and the door was locked. Flipping the switch   
   on his flashlight, the high powered beam cut through the darkness,   
   settling his nerves a bit. As he made his way across the wide   
   linoleum floor, he tried to keep calm. Spotting a set of stairs, the   
   agent limped over to them. He guessed they led up to the choir loft.   
   He thought of his last case, of a similar trek up another set of   
   stairs, and the feel of four bullets shattering his body.   
   Mulder instinctively reached for his weapon. He was struck from the   
   side. Memories of attempting to play football in high school danced   
   across his mind at the feel of 300 pounds slamming into him. Football   
   had not been his sport. Bright flashes of light teased his vision as   
   his head made contact with the floor. Flashlight and weapon flew from   
   numbed fingers, skittering noisily across the room.   
   In the splintered glow, Mulder saw a hulking shape looming above him.   
   It was Father Wolfe, but the eyes -- the eyes seemed to glitter in   
   the near darkness. They were Karl Nix's eyes.   
   "Stop!"   
   The shout was clear and loud in the acoustically perfect room. Both   
   he and the huge man/beast that hovered over him turned.   
   "Drop your weapon!"   
   *Too late,* Mulder mused numbly, *I already dropped it.*   
   "I said Halt!! I'll Shoot!"   
   Mulder wanted to call out, "Just shoot him!" as he tried to make it   
   to his feet. Tendrils of darkness plagued the corners of his sight,   
   and the agent tumbled back down to the floor, his aching knee   
   cracking hard against the tile covered concrete. As he clutched at   
   his leg in agony, he heard the first shot. Then, there was a muffled   
   swear and another blast. He heard a third shot, and the sound of   
   something crashing to the ground -- then nothing.   
   "Scully!" Mulder called, trying once more to stand.   
   Slumping against the painted brick wall, struggling against a wave of   
   sudden nausea, he spotted his flashlight, its bright beacon still   
   shining into the corner. With a weary heave, the agent lurched over   
   to retrieve it.   
   "Scully!"   
   She was sitting on the floor, next to Father Wolfe. Blood and brain   
   matter oozed from the priest's shattered skull. Mulder lumbered to   
   her side. He hurriedly examined her, looking for signs of injury.   
   "He's dead," she whispered, looking at her blood-covered hands.   
   "Are you hit?" Mulder asked, his voice a croak. He slid a hand under   
   her chin, making her meet his eyes. His stomach sank at seeing two   
   pools of pain. They sparkled like sapphires, shiny with tears, when   
   she finally recognized him.   
   "Help me." Scully's voice was a small cry in the dim church. He held   
   her. His tears fell, unabated. It was a long time before her tears   
   would come.   
      
   ***************   
      
   Fox Mulder suffered through the ministrations of the EMTs at the   
   scene, but refused to go with them to the hospital. He made sure they   
   examined his partner, and it appeared there was nothing physically   
   wrong with her. The agent was relieved to hear Scully angrily refuse   
   their offer of further assistance. At least her ire gave a little   
   color to her face.   
   He met with the medics again before they left and was assured that   
   Scully checked out fine. Mulder glanced over to her, sitting   
   listlessly in a folding chair, her head down, hair hanging limply   
   about her face. He hated that word – `fine.'   
   It was almost 3 a.m. before they were allowed to leave. Mulder knew   
   Detective Laura Kirchman was cutting them a break even then. The   
   detective and everyone else would be on the scene throughout the day,   
   piecing together the capture and death of the "El Cajon Slasher" --   
   Father Melvin Wolfe.   
   Monsignor Robert Kieran had come and gone, leaving a number where he   
   could be reached if they needed him. He seemed almost as concerned as   
   Mulder at Scully's grief, but he reminded the agent of her words when   
   she realized who was destined to be the slasher's final victim --   
   Father Wolfe. Scully knew that dead or alive, the priest's life had   
   been over the moment Karl Nix had taken control of his body. Kieran   
   explained he'd be in town until after Father Wolfe's funeral if they   
   still needed him.   
   Mulder placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up to him,   
   but refused to meet his eye.   
   "Let's go, okay?" he whispered softly, helping her to her feet. She   
   rose and wordlessly allowed him to usher her to the car. "I'll   
   drive," he announced.   
   Scully simply walked around to the passenger side and climbed in.   
   With a sigh, Mulder compressed himself behind the wheel, stifling a   
   groan when he bent his leg. They drove in silence through the still,   
   hot night.   
   "Mulder," Scully spoke, not more than a block from the motel.   
   Mulder could see her eyes glittering with excitement, reflecting the   
   morning light.   
   "Take me to Ruby Letourneau's place.   
   ""What?" he asked in confusion.   
   "I know where he kept the ears," she exclaimed. "They're not at the   
   church; take me to the house.   
   "Mulder paused for a moment, cutting his eyes to her in concern as he   
   drove through the sparse pre-dawn traffic. At the last minute, he   
   passed their motel and continued down Second, heading toward   
   Wintergardens and Ruby Letourneau's home.   
      
   ***************   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)