"Denouement"
Episode One, Season One: Denouement (1)
Writer: Samantha Wil
Series Index
“Denouement”
Time was an enigma. It’s measured in different increments, never quite in the same way as the next person. Universally, most time is told in terms of when Christ was born. Some may have a different way of telling time - those who take an important moment in their own lives and start counting the ticks of the clock that way. Three days since the death of a beloved pet. Two weeks since a nasty breakup. Six months since one was told they were dying of a terminal illness. Five years since one’s last alcoholic drink. A decade since one’s soul mate died. Eighteen years since one was abducted from their home by strangers who wanted to use them to end the world. Twenty-eight years one was put up for adoption. Eighty-three years since a government conspiracy started to rule the lives of society.
William Van de Kamp was fascinated by time, the impact that certain events had on people. Will told time from the moment he knew for a fact that he was different. All small children have imaginary friends, but Will had ones who saved his life and continued to help him even as an adult. Everyone knew about conspiracies and some even believed them, but Will lived and breathed by the plots. Some people believe in magic, but Will believed he possessed it. It was one event, one fractured moment in time, that unraveled his life’s destiny: his abduction.
He was just eleven years old when he was snatched off the snowy streets of Wyoming. A black sedan stopped, strong arms pulled him inside, a needle in his neck, the drowsiness, the fear, the panic. He’d woken up on a cold floor in a bare room. His captors asked him to do things that he cried he didn’t know how to do. Read minds, move things by just thinking about it, kill a man with his brain. The whole time, at least one of his three imaginary friends had stayed with him and told him what to do. They had helped him escape, helped him find his parents, and helped him move far far away from the bad men.
The men who abducted him were never found, and Will never saw them again. He told his parents everything, told them he could read their minds, feel their emotions, move things with his mind. He demanded answers, answers he knew that they could not give even before the three dreaded words escaped his father’s lips. You were adopted. They could not offer him comfort or give him an explanation. Instead, they sent him to psychologists and hospitals. Soon, Will began to deny what he could do just to stop the tests and evaluations. After a year of endless doctors and psych wards, he was told that he was dealing from post traumatic stress disorder after his kidnapping and was fabricating everything because of his ordeal.
Except, Will knew better. He couldn’t explain why these things happened to him, but he knew he wasn’t making up lies or false truths. Through the years, his journey of truth led him to the one place where he was positive he would find it.
-
FBI Headquarters
November 14, 2030
“Agent Brody, have you ever heard of an agent William Van de Kamp?”
The name rang a sense of familiarity in her mind. The agent was sort of a legend in the FBI mainstream. He had single-handedly caught more criminals while assigned to VCU for two years than anyone else in that time frame. He then moved onto criminal investigation for another two years where he was known to be one of the best profilers of his time. Suddenly, he dropped off the map and wasn’t spoken about again. His name was only spoken in hushed whispers and his newer exploits were never spoken of. Special Agent Van de Kamp had basically ruined his FBI career because he joined some department in the bureau which was deeply frowned upon.
“Yes, I’m familiar with him,” she replied.
Glancing towards the corner of the room, she saw a stiff and bulky man standing there. He looked military based upon his stance. Next to him stood a pretty brunette female with a cigarette dangling from his fingertips. The two people surveyed the meeting, outsiders looking in. Suddenly, Brody felt like a caged animal.
“Then you know he’s found himself in something called the X-Files. You’re a shining young star within the FBI, and I feel that you could deal with the X-Files in an appropriate manner.”
“Deal with it, Sir?”
Her attention suddenly snapped back onto the deputy director. Something about the way this meeting was turning out didn’t settle quite right within Brody. The two figures standing in the corner only made that feeling intensify.
“You will evaluate his proceedings and help us determine how to resolve the issue.” The deputy director cleared his throat. “You are dismissed, Agent Brody.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said numbly.
Standing up, she took one last glance at the mysterious people in the room before she exited. Her heels clicked loudly on the tiled floor of the Hoover building as she made her way down to the basement where Agent Van de Kamp was waiting for her arrival.
William Van de Kamp held one of the most impressive dossiers that Brody had ever seen. He had graduated top of his class at Yale University with a degree in psychology and then proceeded to graduate at the FBI Academy with high honors. Quickly, he rose within the FBI, some saying he’d be the youngest director within ten years time. Then somewhere from point A to B, he’d shattered all hopes of high power. Stumbling wholeheartedly onto a dumping ground of phony UFO sightings and urban legends, he had fallen faster than any rising star in the FBI’s history. Some said he went insane after all the horrific things he saw during the course of his career. Others said he just couldn’t stand the pressure of the expectations laid out in front of him. Either way, he was considered the biggest joke in the bureau.
Brody knocked softly on the door to the X-Files office. No one responded. Just as she was about to knock once more, a chair squeaking could be heard from inside. Footsteps crossed the room. A bolt unlocking and then another. Then, the door opened to reveal the infamous William Van de Kamp.
Even though his shoulders slouched forward, he towered over Brody. His floppy brown hair was brushed messily off to the side. A few days stubble graced his jaw. A small array of light freckles was splattered across his unusually pale nose and cheeks. His vibrant green eyes stared at Brody with little interest.
“Agent Van de Kamp, my name is Riley Brody. I’m your new partner,” she introduced herself with her hand extended forward
“Who’d you piss off to get this gig?” he joked.
Ignoring her offered hand, he retreated back into the office and plopped down behind his desk which was cluttered with several mountains of folders and paper. The mess extended to the surrounding area of the desk. Pictures of every supernatural being and phenomenon covered every inch of the walls. A giant poster for a movie entitled “From Hell It Came” was tacked to the wall behind the sole desk. Perhaps what was most out of place in the room filled with paranormal paraphernalia was the case of classic baseball cards hanging from the plaster.
“I didn’t piss off anyone, Agent Van de Kamp. I’m actually quite excited to work with you. I’ve been wondering if the legend lives up to the man.”
“Call me Will,” he said with a small smirk gracing his features as he gazed up at her. “Agent Van de Kamp is such a mouthful.”
“Well, we should play equally then. Call me Riley.”
“So, Brody, I gotta say I’m sort of impressed that they sent you down here to the toxic waste dump to work with me,” explained Will as Brody frowned. “You were a straight ‘A’ student at Brown University - graduated in the top ten of your class with honors. You then went to the FBI Academy and graduated with more honors. Found yourself in VCU, celebrated quite a few victories and was on the fast track. Then, all of a sudden, you ask for a transfer out of VCU and they throw you to the dogs in the X-Files. Surely, Brody, you pissed off someone.”
“You did your homework.”
Brody crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the enigma that was William Van de Kamp. There was something about the man that was dark, twisted. It was as though all the secrets of the world were ones that he knew, that he held power that no one else imaginable could ever hope to achieve. He played his game shroud in mystery with a mask of indifference and sarcasm. His persona filled the room, and Brody found herself more than a little intimidated.
“If someone’s going to come down here to spy on me, I might as well know their history and deep, dark secrets.”
“What makes you think I’ve come down here to spy on you?” she snapped. “I’m an FBI agent just as you, and I would prefer to be treated with respect.”
“Alright,” started Will feebly, “I apologize.”
The apology didn’t do anything to settle the score in Brody’s mind. The once thrilling mention of working with such an agent as Will was now replaced with regret. The decision to leave VCU was rapidly becoming painful and gaping. The people there were intense and focused but were also compassionate and friendly. It was just too hard to remain there after everything that had happened, to live with the mistakes that were made on her last case. The X-Files seemed like a breath of fresh air, a time to regroup and evaluate. It seemed like it would not be her escape but rather her undoing.
“Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials, Brody?”
“I don’t believe but I don’t disbelieve either.”
“You can’t have it both ways. You gotta have an opinion.”
For the first time since their meeting, Will looked actually interested in her. There were no bitter jokes or indifferent remarks. His full attention was on her, the files lay completely forgotten on his desk.
“I believe that it is arrogant, in the least, to say we are the only living creatures in the entire galaxy, in all of space. That is to say that just because others may exist does not mean that they have contacted us or live among us. Honestly, I don’t believe that they are here or are going to come. I do not believe that they are little green men who abduct people to perform horrifying tests. It’s ludicrous.”
“I don’t believe they’re little green men either,” jested Will with a smirk. “I do believe they are among us. I believe that they have enrooted themselves into our society, planted themselves in our government. I believe they are slowly colonizing our planet, infecting it with viruses and enslaving innocents. I believe there are conspiracies that men before us have failed in every respect to stop because the power got to their heads… or maybe they didn’t fully grasp the consequences of their actions. Either way, our very existence is in danger of being extinct.”
In that moment, everything about the future of their partnership suddenly became crystal clear. His willingness to believe in government conspiracies would be what would unravel him and would be her downfall as well. There was no way that she could tear this man down, to demolish his very beliefs because higher authority requested it of her. She would not be able to live with herself if she helped them in the demise of William Van de Kamp, if she helped them crush a man to rid of a burden. Guilty by association never rang so true in Brody’s ears.
“You believe aliens live within our government? That they… control our society?”
“Come here and lemme see your neck.”
“Excuse me?”
“Lemme see your neck.”
Taking a tentative step forward, Brody lifted her shoulder length, dark brown hair to expose her neck. Will got up from his desk and stepped behind her. His cold hands lifted the clasp of her necklace up as the other hand ran down her smooth neck. The very contact made Brody shudder.
“The good news is you’re not an alien. The bad news is I’ve given you goose bumps.” He chuckled softly before returning to his desk.
“You can tell based upon my neck if I-I’m alien?”
“Well, a certain type of alien at least. Hybrids, I think, who have bumps on the base of their necks. I’m not quite that well versed in the differences of alien physiology yet.”
If it had been any other situation, Brody would have laughed out loud at the context of the conversation. Aliens and government conspiracies were always possible but more often than not were proven false. Brody never really considered that the outlandish tales to be real. Although, she had never met someone who was so true to his convictions of the subject before either.
“Do you just go around looking at everybody’s necks before you give them the time of day?” questioned Brody with amusement lacing her words.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were mocking me.”
Will turned towards his computer and clicked away quickly. The projector on the ceiling flickered to life as an image of a dead body in a morgue was brought up. The body was male and face down on the examination table. On the back of the man’s neck were two protrusions. The image disappeared and was replaced by a picture of the man on his back. On his chest was a bullet wound. Surrounding the wound was a metallic-like circle.
“This guy died from a gunshot wound to the chest,” explained Will lazily. “When they pulled the bullet for forensics, they found that it was comprised of melted down magnetite. How good is your chemistry, Agent Brody?”
“Uh, magnetite is a ferromagnetic mineral - it’s the most magnetic of all the natural minerals on Earth. I just never heard of someone crafting a bullet out of this.”
“Mister Gunshot Wound was never identified. In fact, his body disappeared from the morgue the day after he arrived. The toxicology reports vanished into thin air as well. Everything was gone but these few pictures I have. What really gets me is that the coroner doesn’t recollect any significant findings, doesn’t note the bumps on the neck or the ring around the wound as anything out of the ordinary in his total piece of bullshit story - or. if you wanna get technical, his bogus report.”
“Well, clearly this man died of a gunshot wound,” reasoned Brody.
“Oh, no, see, I’m not doubting that. Even I can note the obvious cause of death as that. I wanna know what that ring is, what those bumps are, why the bullet was composed of magnetite, why the coroner denies any significant findings, why the body disappeared, why the toxicology finds were destroyed. This goes beyond a simply autopsy of a murder victim. Someone was trying to cover up this man’s death, who this man was.”
Will flipped through several more shots of the dead man including close ups of the projections on the neck and the metallic colored ring around the gunshot wound. Brody tore her gaze away from the screen to glance at her new partner. A smirk danced on his face, a glint shining wildly in his deep green orbs.
“Where are we going?” she questioned.
“The Mountain State.”
-
Beckley, West Virginia
November 15, 2030
Will pulled into the parking lot of the local morgue. Cutting the engine, he turned towards Brody as though he was to say something. Thinking better of it, he hauled his tall frame out of the sedan and headed briskly to the front door without waiting for Brody. Immediately, he went up to the front desk.
“I’m Special Agent William Van de Kamp,” he introduced himself as he produced his badge. “I need to speak with Doctor Conners.”
“Uh, hold on a second. I’ll go get him.”
The secretary disappeared into a back room when Brody entered the building. She looked more than just a little upset that Will had taken off without her. Will didn’t dare look at her, didn’t dare reveal that he cared what she thought. She was sent to spy on him, to shut down the X-Files, to keep the conspiracies quiet. Maybe, just maybe, if he convinced her of what was really out there, she could respect his crusade and mislead her bosses.
“I hear you’re with the FBI. How can I help you?”
An elderly man in a lab coat appeared. So this was the coroner who wrote down false findings and kept his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. Except, something about him didn’t feel right, didn’t feel human. Will’s heart pounded in his chest and conclusions were jumping to his mind. He had spent his whole life trying to deny his instincts, deny what he saw or what he could do. It hadn’t been until he came to the FBI that he allowed his intuition to roam freely, to guide him in his pursuits.
“Doctor Conners, you were the one who performed the autopsy on the John Doe who disappeared from the morgue a week ago, is that correct?” Brody took the lead.
“Yes, that’s correct. The cause of death was a gunshot wound to the heart. From what I can remember, he was a perfectly healthy young man who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“What about the bumps on his neck?” questioned Will.
“There was nothing irregular about that. Some people’s spins are just more clearly visible than others through the skin.”
“And the metallic color around the wound?” Brody asked as Will snorted in disbelief.
“Well, the bullet was made from magnetite. I’ve never quite seen anything like it before. Could have just been an allergic reaction from the metal. We’ll never really know since I never got to see the final toxicology reports.”
“Somehow I highly doubt that,” commented Will. “I want to know your real findings, Doctor Conners.”
“Sir, I have told you all that I have found in my preliminary tests. There was nothing extraordinary about the murder victim.”
“Then where is the body? Why go through the trouble to get rid of the body? Can you answer me that?” he shouted.
“Will, stop,” whispered Brody.
Her hand found itself on his arm. It was meant to calm him down, but it only enraged him more. Brushing her off him, he stepped forward towards the doctor with fire burning in his eyes. He wanted answers and not the runaround. There was an intense ringing in his ears, a warning to tell him to back down. His instincts were kicking in, telling him to turn around and not look back. Except he didn’t think that he could just back down without answers.
“Will, let’s go.”
“I’ll be back, Doctor Conners, and when I do, I want answers.”
Will forced his legs to jerk backwards and follow Brody outside. The farther he got away from the doctor, the ringing seemed to lessen in its intensity. He was only vaguely aware of Brody questioning him, her voice harsh as she demanded what the hell that was about. There were no answers to her inquiries.
His mouth felt like a desert. His throat felt as though it were closing up. The ringing in his head was replaced with a dull ache. It always happened when he got too close to those hybrids. His whole body would react, multiple warnings flickering on deep in his core. He couldn’t explain it.
“I wanna see the crime scene.”
-
Brody hung back as she watched her partner investigate the motel room. A couple had been staying there under the name Robert Petrie. They were an older couple identified in their mid-sixties. The man had towered over his petite wife according to the owner of the motel. The woman was a redhead and the man a brunette, both of them had streaks of gray in their hair. The man had been friendly, joked about the World Series games last month. The woman seemed detached, almost cold, as she lingered behind the male.
“Was there anything unusual about the couple, Mister Davis?” questioned Brody.
Will tore through the motel room looking for clues. The drawers lay discarded on the floor, the sheets ripped from the bed. He was going above and beyond the usual call of duty detective work.
“You mean if anything screamed murdering psychos?” the motel owner asked.
“I wouldn’t put it that way but yes.”
“Uh, the guy asked about the mountains.”
“What about the mountains?”
“Asked if you could just roam around on ‘em or if you had to have a guide.” The owner paused. “Why is he tearing the place apart?”
Will seemed frustrated as nearly everything was taken apart. It was as though he were looking for something specific, some little clue that only he knew about. Brody was baffled by the display.
“He’s just… investigating thoroughly,” she replied. “What else can you tell me about Mister Petrie and his wife?”
“You’re way too young to remember, but there used to be a show called The Dick Van Dyke Show and the main character was named Rob Petrie. I found it a little odd that this fellow had the same name.”
“It’s a fictional name?”
Her attention snapped to the motel owner. So the murderers may have been using aliases from a television show that had aired over a half century before. Slowly, her gaze found itself back on Will who was examining the carpet in the corner of the room.
“Well, I suppose someone may have the same name. You never know. I just thought it was sorta funny after that guy turned up dead in here. They seemed like a nice, wholesome couple. You know, the husband dragging his wife on a vacation she didn’t want to go on. It’s a classic.”
“So they were on vacation?”
“I suspect. Saw ‘em getting suitcases out of the trunk of their car.”
“Was it a rental?”
“I dunno. It was a sedan though. It was too dark to see anything specific about it.”
Will pocketed something silver into his jacket pocket before standing up and making his way over towards his partner and the witness.
“Mister Davis, can you let us know if you see them come back here?” requested Will.
Brody gave her partner a questioning glare, but he just shook his head. The owner conceded. Will thanked him for his help and motioned for Brody to follow him out to the car. Once inside, he pulled out a silver tube and held it in front of his face.
“What is it?”
Will shrugged his shoulders. His finger grazed over a small button and a pointed metal stake shot out of the top. Both of the agents jumped back slightly. Brody had never seen anything like it before. Obviously, it was some kind of weapon, but she couldn’t even give it a general name.
“They hid it under the carpet. I guess they didn’t want anyone to find it,” supplied Will.
“Will, that’s evidence. You shouldn’t be touching it.”
“I’m not turning this in.”
“Then you’re withholding evidence. It’s illegal!”
The blade retracted back into the tube. Will placed it back into his breast pocket before turning over the engine of the car. He drove through the streets of Beckley until he arrived at the motel they were staying at.
-
Will sat in his motel room going over the geological properties of the Appalachians. Magnetite was present in the mountain range. Never before had he gotten such a lead in these hybrids before. He found one, a dead one, and craved to know all the information that he could. It had been eighteen years before that when Will first laid eyes on one of these creatures when he was kidnapped. He could remember seeing the bumps on the base of their necks, feel the danger that pulsated through his body as a warning.
A swift knock on his motel room door snapped Will out of his musings. Rolling off the hard bed, he made his way to the front door. Peering through the peephole, he saw his new partner standing outside with her arms clenched around her stomach. He opened the door to allow her entrance.
“You okay?”
“I want you to look at something,” she said in a rush.
She brushed passed him in just her pajamas. Looking white and sweaty, she breathed heavily as she picked up her hair off the base of her neck. Taking a step forward, Will peered down at the skin to see several small bumps.
“Did they get me?” she whispered.
He ran a finger over one of the bumps and chuckled softly. Brody twitched in anticipation. He pulled back the collar of her silk shirt to look down her back. More bumps were present.
“They’re hives,” he replied.
“Hives?”
“They’re all down your back too. Did you eat something you weren’t supposed to?”
“Oh my God...”
She whipped around, locked her arms around Will’s waist, and buried her head into his chest. It really wasn’t something Will as expecting, but he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and whispered that she was fine. Suddenly, she jerked back and looked up at her partner in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Brody. Don’t worry about it.”
For the first time, Will felt like he truly saw the real Riley Brody - a vulnerable young woman who was battling her morals against the requests of government officials who wanted her to destroy him. He felt sympathy towards her.
“Sit down.”
He gestured towards his rumpled bed covered in folders, papers, and his laptop. Brody reluctantly made her way across the room and sat down upon the bed. Clearing her throat, she watched as Will sat down on the floor with his back against the bed.
“Will… do you honestly believe that our John Doe was really an… an alien-human hybrid?” Brody asked softly.
Will closed his eyes, memories of his worst memory from childhood washing over him completely. These men were strong, powerful, and definitely not human. He could remember being scared out of his wits, could remember that they didn’t feel human just like the coroner felt earlier that day.
“I was abducted when I was eleven,” he replied.
“I know… I read it in your file.”
“They were these hybrids. I remember the bumps on their necks…” Will trailed off.
A part of him wanted to tell Brody everything, tell her how they wanted him to do things with his mind… things that he could in fact do, things that lay dormant inside of him and only resurfaced when he needed them the most. Another part of him didn’t trust Brody enough to spill everything despite the fact that it might change her opinion on this case, on him.
“Will…”
“They wanted me for reasons I can’t even begin to comprehend. My parents didn’t believe me. They took me to hospitals to get me evaluated. They thought I had some sort of mental disorder… because I was adopted and they didn’t know my family history. They thought my biological parents were unstable and that’s why they gave me up.”
“What did these men do to you?”
Will twisted his upper body to look at Brody. She seemed genuinely concerned as her gaze clung to him unblinking. He felt so naked, so exposed. He hadn’t talked about any of this since he was eleven or twelve. Don’t ask, don’t tell - that became the policy in the Van de Kamp household quickly after the whole ordeal.
“I don’t remember much,” he lied.
She didn’t look like she believed him for one second, but she let it go. Will had never been so grateful in his entire life. So instead of spilling his sob story to her, he swiftly changed the subject.
“Tell me about yourself,” he suggested.
“What do you wanna know?”
“Anything.”
Anything was better than talking about his kidnapping. He didn’t care if she told him about her awkward adolescent years or what was going on in her life now. Anything that didn’t pertain to him sounded just wonderful.
“Um… I have a big brother named Dean. Married with one little girl. He’s a high school history teacher. I also have a little sister named Blake. She’s a nurse at a hospital. What about you?”
“Only child. At least… I was the only kid my parents adopted. I dunno if I have any biological siblings running around.” Will relaxed against the bed. “Did you ever have an imaginary friend growing up?”
“I called him Frankie and told everyone he was a ghost who haunted our house.”
A smile broke out on Will’s face. He could hear Brody collapse on the bed behind him, a long sigh escaping through her lips. She was no doubt mortified that she told him about her imaginary friend.
“I had three,” commented Will. “Their names were Byers, Frohike, and Langley.”
“What? Where did you come up with those names?”
Will didn’t dare tell her he didn’t believe they were just figments of his imagination. He believed that they were real somehow. They had saved his life before, talked to him even until this day when he really needed someone. It was just easier to call them imaginary instead of letting anyone know he thought they were real.
“I had a wild imagination. I used to fight off garden gnomes too,” he joked.
“Are you sure the gnomes weren’t being possessed by aliens?” jested Brody.
The jab was meant to be playful, and Will let out a low chuckle. She was trying to break the ice, and he took it for that. He let her have her small victory of breaching the ironclad wall he built up around himself.
“Do you want to find your biological parents?” questioned Brody.
“I only think about it every day,” he answered honestly. “I wonder what they look like… what their hobbies are… what their jobs were… I just constantly wonder about them.”
“Have you tried to use your connections to find them?”
“Ha, it was a completely closed adoption. My mom said that they only thing they knew was that my mother was single when she gave me up. They asked about the father but were told he wasn’t even in the picture. I was about ten months old when my parents got me.”
“What about a confidential intermediary?”
“I tried. It didn’t work. I mean, it was like all files on my biological parents just disappeared. Nobody can find a record that they even existed. I knew that it would be impossible to find my birth father on my own… but I always thought I’d find my birth mother.”
Will got up from the floor and started to pace around the motel room. He wasn’t much for emotions or sob stories. In fact, he didn’t even know why he started to tell his pathetic tale to a woman who was sent to destroy his life’s work. She seemed so sincere though, seemed interested in his thoughts and feelings. Part of him was screaming that it was a ploy to get him to trust her. Another part was telling her she was true.
“I’m sorry if I’m prying,” she spoke softly as she sat up.
“My birth mother only requested one thing… she didn’t want them changing my name.”
“Maybe you have family name….?”
“Oh, yeah, because William isn’t unique at all,” he bit out.
“What about your middle name? Isn’t it some sort of animal?”
“Fox. Yeah, I’m convinced my mother was a druggie or something if she named me William Fox.”
“It has to be a family name. Have you ever tried looking at records of people named Fox?”
“It’s useless, Brody. They obviously didn’t want me, so I don’t know why I care so much.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his three friends flicker into the room. Byers, Frohike, and Langley had come to pay a visit. Turning his head towards them, he noticed that they all seemed sad or something with deep frowns etched into their eyebrows.
“Will, you okay?”
Snapping his attention to Brody, he looked at her briefly before turning back to the men. They had vanished without a trace. He didn’t have the heart to explain anything to her so he just nodded numbly before mumbling something about being exhausted. She understood immediately. She hoisted herself off the bed and walked towards him. Her hand ran down the length of his arm as she whispered, “Goodnight.” Then she was gone, off to her own room next door.
-
The next morning, Will woke up Brody early and headed out towards the Appalachian Mountains to investigate. Will wanted to find the Petrie husband and wife duo more than anything. They knew of alien-human hybrids, knew how to kill them. He craved to know their knowledge, to have someone to talk to who understood what was going on better than he. The mountains, he hoped, would be the key.
“Will, it’s six in the morning,” yawned Brody. “Why couldn’t we have waited a few more hours?”
Glancing over at his partner, he noticed she was freezing. Her hands rubbed together feverishly as she cowered into her jacket. Tearing his gaze away from her, he crouched down to study the mountain beneath him. He grabbed a few loose pieces of rock and placed them into his jacket pocket. When he got back to D.C., he wanted them tested for magnetite. Perhaps the Appalachians were where the Petrie twosome got their magnetite for their gun.
“Will, we have company,” she whispered.
Half of him expected it to be Rob Petrie and his wife to collect more bullet materials. Except, it was man who instantly turned Will’s insides around. The warning ring sounded throughout his head as he drew his gun. Brody followed suit.
“Sir, stay back and identify yourself. We’re with the FBI,” she commanded.
Will watched as the man kept his distance from the mountain as though he were afraid of it. Intuition told Will to shoot the man, antagonize him forward just to see what would happen. He was calmer than he was before with the coroner. Perhaps, it was the Appalachians that put him at ease.
“Haven’t seen you in a long time, William,” the man said.
Brody turned towards her partner, a burning question clear on her face. Instead of acknowledging her, he stared at the alien-human hybrid in front of him. He couldn’t recall the face for the life of him. Perhaps it was one of his abductors.
Curiosity got the better of Will as he took several steps forward. His gun was still raised, pointed directly at the heart of the hybrid. His finger toyed with the trigger of the gun, itching to jerk backwards and allow the shell to dislodge itself from the barrel. Taking another step forward, the buzzing in his head intensified until he couldn’t even think straight straight. His finger yanked back and a bullet went hurtling out of the handgun.
Brody gasped as the bullet hit the man square in the chest. He didn’t seem bothered by the buckshot in the least. A snort escaped the man’s thin lips as he advanced towards the two FBI agents. Will stumbled back until he tumbled onto his backside. The rocks dug into the palms of his hands.
“Stop!” shouted Brody as she fired a shot.
Her bullet did nothing to stop the man’s progress towards them. His eyes were coldly staring at Will with a determined gleam shining on his face. Suddenly, the man just froze and grimaced. Slowly his whole body started to change until he was covered in a metallic-like substance. Suddenly, the man darted forward into the side of the mountain like they were being pulled together by a cosmic force.
Will tore his gaze away from the point of impact to look at his shocked partner. She had ducked to the ground at some point and was laying only a few feet away from him. Her mouth moved as though to form words but nothing escaped her ruby lips.
“Awesome, huh?” questioned Will weakly with a smirk.
“Wh-what happened?”
“I think an alien-human hybrid just died because it has a weakness to magnetite.”
A small chuckle slipped out of Brody’s mouth. Will slowly stood up, wiping his bloodied hands on his jeans. He made his way over to his partner and extended his hands to help her up. With a soft smile, she grabbed his hands into hers and allowed him to hoist her up.
“I can’t believe this…” she whispered. “I can’t even comprehend what I just saw…”
“Brody,” he spoke softly, “you need to think about this in terms of what you’re going to write in your report. They will destroy you if you start writing about this kind of stuff with an open mind.”
Brody faltered, the creeping smile disappeared completely off her face. Nodding numbly, she took one last glance at the mountain before following Will to his car.
-
Arlington, Virginia
November 17, 2030
Will walked into his apartment feeling one step closer to the bigger truths that lay beyond common knowledge. He had watched a man die by magnetite, an element that he was just only beginning to comprehend. It was almost unbelievable that after all this time trying to find the aliens that kidnapped him when a kid he had finally found them. It was all thanks to the X-Files which gave him the perfect time and means to find cases that others would cast aside as nonsense.
The answering machine on his living room desk blinked brightly in the darkened apartment. Pressing the play button, a male voice filled the room asking Will to meet him in two hours. The man claimed he had information on his last case, about the hybrids Will was so desperate to figure out.
Agent Van de Kamp has a very solid belief system, and I believe that he will not rest until he finds a denouement that is fitting to his quest for the truths he so desperately seeks.
Will shivered involuntarily at the biting wind. His hair blew back on his head to allow his face a clear shot to be assaulted by the bitter November air. His informant was late or quite possibly a no show. It would be typical if the guy wouldn’t show because more often than not these so-called know-it-alls left him standing alone in the late hours of the night.
Though there is no concrete evidence that Agent Van de Kamp’s accusations are even remotely feasible, it would be in my good conscious to allow him to continue his work on the X-Files under a careful eye. I do not believe that he is a threat to himself or anyone else for that matter. He is simply a man of strong convictions.
“Agent Van de Kamp,” a male voice called.
Will turned around and spotted an older man with glasses approaching him cautiously. There was no intuition, no thoughts, or feelings to help Will determine whether or not this man was there to help him or harm him. Too many times before had he met with informants that were unstable, delusional, and proceeded to act in a series of deranged behaviors. They were mostly phonies, UFO nuts, people who didn’t possess any real knowledge. This man, however, looked grounded and stable. In the pit of Will’s gut, he knew this man had information for him.
“My name is Gibson Praise.”
I cannot explain what Agent Van de Kamp and I witnessed in West Virginia while on the John Doe case. We were unable to retrieve any evidence that it was nothing other than a body snatching from a morgue. There were no leads, no explanations, no helpful civilians. There seems to have been no motive, no reason for that body to disappear. It is in my professional belief that the murderer(s) snatched the body and discarded it to avoid forensic evidence to be found that would incriminate him/her.
“You said you had information for me about the John Doe who died in West Virginia,” Will commented to cut to the point.
“That John Doe was a military employee. If you check through records, you will come across his picture and dossier.”
“Are you saying that the military didn’t want this man to be revealed so they stole the body from the morgue and bought off the coroner?”
“I’m saying that a secret group of government men didn’t want anyone seeing the body because he wasn’t human anymore. He was made into what is called a Super Soldier. An ordinary man created into something extraordinary. The only way to kill a Super Soldier is by magnetite.”
We encountered a man whom Agent Van de Kamp claimed to be an alien-human hybrid. This man tried to kill us for attempting to get too close to the truth about our John Doe - who Agent Van de Kamp believes to be an alien-human hybrid as well.
“Why magnetite?” questioned Will.
“It’s believed that it off sets a Super Soldier’s iron levels and therefore terminates it. We’ve found nothing else that can kill one.”
“We?”
It is Agent Van de Kamp’s belief that these alien-human hybrids can be tracked by protrusions on the back of the neck. There could be a number of logical explanations as to why these men had bumps on their necks. Except, I cannot explain how the man who attacked us died. One minute he was advancing on Agent Van de Kamp and myself; the next he freezes as his whole body begins to change into what appears to be a metallic substance.
“My associates and I,” he replied. “My associates who killed that John Doe with the magnetite bullet.”
“Who are your associates?”
I cannot explain what happened next in rational terms. The man disappeared into the Appalachian Mountains. It was as though the two were magnets being drawn together. Although I do not agree with Agent Van de Kamp’s explanation of alien-human hybrids, I cannot deny what I saw nor even begin to comprehend it.
“Fox Mulder and Dana Scully.”
-
Heels clicked on a tiled floor lined with rows upon rows of filing cabinets. A brunette woman stopped in front of the B’s. Placing her cigarette into her mouth, she freed her hands to rifle through the folders. Her fingers wrapped around the file that read Brody, Riley A. Taking one last drag of her cigarette, she dropped it on the floor and stepped on it. She then flipped through the contents lazily.
“What are you doing?” a deep voice questioned.
“We put her in this position based upon good faith that we have enough on her to ruin not only her career but her life,” she responded coolly. “Except, I seem to remember reading about how Dana Scully didn’t exactly follow orders when it came to Fox Mulder.”
“You think she’ll be as big as a problem?” The bulky man stepped out of the shadows and stood next to the woman.
“I’m saying that William has dewy sensitive eyes and sad puppy dog looks. He’ll break her soon enough and get her to follow him faithfully.”
“He didn’t seem to break you with his dewy sensitivity and long looks, Walsh,” the man said in an amused tone.
She snapped the folder closed and cleared her throat. Placing it back into the filing cabinet, she pushed the drawer shut before she turned to look at the man.
“We should really update this filing system. It’s ancient and impractical,” she said calmly.
“You’ve already done the ultimate sin towards him, Walsh. Don’t get all sentimental and gloomy now.” The man smirked. “You’re just a Benedict Arnold. Get used to your new role.”
“Did I have a choice?” she snapped.
“There’s always a choice. You made your bed, now lie in it.”
Notes - This is my first X-Files project since the show was on the air. Therefore, I slowly have to get back into my grove. This little 'project' of mine is going to be like a TV show written in narrarive format. The first "season" will consist of twelve 'episodes' - sort of like a mid-season show. I am going to attempt to post every Sunday unless otherwise stated. Episodes 1-4 are completed. Do note that episodes 1-2 were not edited since I hadn't gotten an editor until the third epsiode rolled around.
Next Sunday - Part two of the series opener - Archelaus: After learning about Super Soldiers and the identity of his parents, Will starts to search desperately for answers.
I am currently looking for co-writers and editors. Please message/comment me with your email address if you're interested.
Writer: Samantha Wil
Series Index
“Denouement”
Time was an enigma. It’s measured in different increments, never quite in the same way as the next person. Universally, most time is told in terms of when Christ was born. Some may have a different way of telling time - those who take an important moment in their own lives and start counting the ticks of the clock that way. Three days since the death of a beloved pet. Two weeks since a nasty breakup. Six months since one was told they were dying of a terminal illness. Five years since one’s last alcoholic drink. A decade since one’s soul mate died. Eighteen years since one was abducted from their home by strangers who wanted to use them to end the world. Twenty-eight years one was put up for adoption. Eighty-three years since a government conspiracy started to rule the lives of society.
William Van de Kamp was fascinated by time, the impact that certain events had on people. Will told time from the moment he knew for a fact that he was different. All small children have imaginary friends, but Will had ones who saved his life and continued to help him even as an adult. Everyone knew about conspiracies and some even believed them, but Will lived and breathed by the plots. Some people believe in magic, but Will believed he possessed it. It was one event, one fractured moment in time, that unraveled his life’s destiny: his abduction.
He was just eleven years old when he was snatched off the snowy streets of Wyoming. A black sedan stopped, strong arms pulled him inside, a needle in his neck, the drowsiness, the fear, the panic. He’d woken up on a cold floor in a bare room. His captors asked him to do things that he cried he didn’t know how to do. Read minds, move things by just thinking about it, kill a man with his brain. The whole time, at least one of his three imaginary friends had stayed with him and told him what to do. They had helped him escape, helped him find his parents, and helped him move far far away from the bad men.
The men who abducted him were never found, and Will never saw them again. He told his parents everything, told them he could read their minds, feel their emotions, move things with his mind. He demanded answers, answers he knew that they could not give even before the three dreaded words escaped his father’s lips. You were adopted. They could not offer him comfort or give him an explanation. Instead, they sent him to psychologists and hospitals. Soon, Will began to deny what he could do just to stop the tests and evaluations. After a year of endless doctors and psych wards, he was told that he was dealing from post traumatic stress disorder after his kidnapping and was fabricating everything because of his ordeal.
Except, Will knew better. He couldn’t explain why these things happened to him, but he knew he wasn’t making up lies or false truths. Through the years, his journey of truth led him to the one place where he was positive he would find it.
-
FBI Headquarters
November 14, 2030
“Agent Brody, have you ever heard of an agent William Van de Kamp?”
The name rang a sense of familiarity in her mind. The agent was sort of a legend in the FBI mainstream. He had single-handedly caught more criminals while assigned to VCU for two years than anyone else in that time frame. He then moved onto criminal investigation for another two years where he was known to be one of the best profilers of his time. Suddenly, he dropped off the map and wasn’t spoken about again. His name was only spoken in hushed whispers and his newer exploits were never spoken of. Special Agent Van de Kamp had basically ruined his FBI career because he joined some department in the bureau which was deeply frowned upon.
“Yes, I’m familiar with him,” she replied.
Glancing towards the corner of the room, she saw a stiff and bulky man standing there. He looked military based upon his stance. Next to him stood a pretty brunette female with a cigarette dangling from his fingertips. The two people surveyed the meeting, outsiders looking in. Suddenly, Brody felt like a caged animal.
“Then you know he’s found himself in something called the X-Files. You’re a shining young star within the FBI, and I feel that you could deal with the X-Files in an appropriate manner.”
“Deal with it, Sir?”
Her attention suddenly snapped back onto the deputy director. Something about the way this meeting was turning out didn’t settle quite right within Brody. The two figures standing in the corner only made that feeling intensify.
“You will evaluate his proceedings and help us determine how to resolve the issue.” The deputy director cleared his throat. “You are dismissed, Agent Brody.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said numbly.
Standing up, she took one last glance at the mysterious people in the room before she exited. Her heels clicked loudly on the tiled floor of the Hoover building as she made her way down to the basement where Agent Van de Kamp was waiting for her arrival.
William Van de Kamp held one of the most impressive dossiers that Brody had ever seen. He had graduated top of his class at Yale University with a degree in psychology and then proceeded to graduate at the FBI Academy with high honors. Quickly, he rose within the FBI, some saying he’d be the youngest director within ten years time. Then somewhere from point A to B, he’d shattered all hopes of high power. Stumbling wholeheartedly onto a dumping ground of phony UFO sightings and urban legends, he had fallen faster than any rising star in the FBI’s history. Some said he went insane after all the horrific things he saw during the course of his career. Others said he just couldn’t stand the pressure of the expectations laid out in front of him. Either way, he was considered the biggest joke in the bureau.
Brody knocked softly on the door to the X-Files office. No one responded. Just as she was about to knock once more, a chair squeaking could be heard from inside. Footsteps crossed the room. A bolt unlocking and then another. Then, the door opened to reveal the infamous William Van de Kamp.
Even though his shoulders slouched forward, he towered over Brody. His floppy brown hair was brushed messily off to the side. A few days stubble graced his jaw. A small array of light freckles was splattered across his unusually pale nose and cheeks. His vibrant green eyes stared at Brody with little interest.
“Agent Van de Kamp, my name is Riley Brody. I’m your new partner,” she introduced herself with her hand extended forward
“Who’d you piss off to get this gig?” he joked.
Ignoring her offered hand, he retreated back into the office and plopped down behind his desk which was cluttered with several mountains of folders and paper. The mess extended to the surrounding area of the desk. Pictures of every supernatural being and phenomenon covered every inch of the walls. A giant poster for a movie entitled “From Hell It Came” was tacked to the wall behind the sole desk. Perhaps what was most out of place in the room filled with paranormal paraphernalia was the case of classic baseball cards hanging from the plaster.
“I didn’t piss off anyone, Agent Van de Kamp. I’m actually quite excited to work with you. I’ve been wondering if the legend lives up to the man.”
“Call me Will,” he said with a small smirk gracing his features as he gazed up at her. “Agent Van de Kamp is such a mouthful.”
“Well, we should play equally then. Call me Riley.”
“So, Brody, I gotta say I’m sort of impressed that they sent you down here to the toxic waste dump to work with me,” explained Will as Brody frowned. “You were a straight ‘A’ student at Brown University - graduated in the top ten of your class with honors. You then went to the FBI Academy and graduated with more honors. Found yourself in VCU, celebrated quite a few victories and was on the fast track. Then, all of a sudden, you ask for a transfer out of VCU and they throw you to the dogs in the X-Files. Surely, Brody, you pissed off someone.”
“You did your homework.”
Brody crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the enigma that was William Van de Kamp. There was something about the man that was dark, twisted. It was as though all the secrets of the world were ones that he knew, that he held power that no one else imaginable could ever hope to achieve. He played his game shroud in mystery with a mask of indifference and sarcasm. His persona filled the room, and Brody found herself more than a little intimidated.
“If someone’s going to come down here to spy on me, I might as well know their history and deep, dark secrets.”
“What makes you think I’ve come down here to spy on you?” she snapped. “I’m an FBI agent just as you, and I would prefer to be treated with respect.”
“Alright,” started Will feebly, “I apologize.”
The apology didn’t do anything to settle the score in Brody’s mind. The once thrilling mention of working with such an agent as Will was now replaced with regret. The decision to leave VCU was rapidly becoming painful and gaping. The people there were intense and focused but were also compassionate and friendly. It was just too hard to remain there after everything that had happened, to live with the mistakes that were made on her last case. The X-Files seemed like a breath of fresh air, a time to regroup and evaluate. It seemed like it would not be her escape but rather her undoing.
“Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials, Brody?”
“I don’t believe but I don’t disbelieve either.”
“You can’t have it both ways. You gotta have an opinion.”
For the first time since their meeting, Will looked actually interested in her. There were no bitter jokes or indifferent remarks. His full attention was on her, the files lay completely forgotten on his desk.
“I believe that it is arrogant, in the least, to say we are the only living creatures in the entire galaxy, in all of space. That is to say that just because others may exist does not mean that they have contacted us or live among us. Honestly, I don’t believe that they are here or are going to come. I do not believe that they are little green men who abduct people to perform horrifying tests. It’s ludicrous.”
“I don’t believe they’re little green men either,” jested Will with a smirk. “I do believe they are among us. I believe that they have enrooted themselves into our society, planted themselves in our government. I believe they are slowly colonizing our planet, infecting it with viruses and enslaving innocents. I believe there are conspiracies that men before us have failed in every respect to stop because the power got to their heads… or maybe they didn’t fully grasp the consequences of their actions. Either way, our very existence is in danger of being extinct.”
In that moment, everything about the future of their partnership suddenly became crystal clear. His willingness to believe in government conspiracies would be what would unravel him and would be her downfall as well. There was no way that she could tear this man down, to demolish his very beliefs because higher authority requested it of her. She would not be able to live with herself if she helped them in the demise of William Van de Kamp, if she helped them crush a man to rid of a burden. Guilty by association never rang so true in Brody’s ears.
“You believe aliens live within our government? That they… control our society?”
“Come here and lemme see your neck.”
“Excuse me?”
“Lemme see your neck.”
Taking a tentative step forward, Brody lifted her shoulder length, dark brown hair to expose her neck. Will got up from his desk and stepped behind her. His cold hands lifted the clasp of her necklace up as the other hand ran down her smooth neck. The very contact made Brody shudder.
“The good news is you’re not an alien. The bad news is I’ve given you goose bumps.” He chuckled softly before returning to his desk.
“You can tell based upon my neck if I-I’m alien?”
“Well, a certain type of alien at least. Hybrids, I think, who have bumps on the base of their necks. I’m not quite that well versed in the differences of alien physiology yet.”
If it had been any other situation, Brody would have laughed out loud at the context of the conversation. Aliens and government conspiracies were always possible but more often than not were proven false. Brody never really considered that the outlandish tales to be real. Although, she had never met someone who was so true to his convictions of the subject before either.
“Do you just go around looking at everybody’s necks before you give them the time of day?” questioned Brody with amusement lacing her words.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were mocking me.”
Will turned towards his computer and clicked away quickly. The projector on the ceiling flickered to life as an image of a dead body in a morgue was brought up. The body was male and face down on the examination table. On the back of the man’s neck were two protrusions. The image disappeared and was replaced by a picture of the man on his back. On his chest was a bullet wound. Surrounding the wound was a metallic-like circle.
“This guy died from a gunshot wound to the chest,” explained Will lazily. “When they pulled the bullet for forensics, they found that it was comprised of melted down magnetite. How good is your chemistry, Agent Brody?”
“Uh, magnetite is a ferromagnetic mineral - it’s the most magnetic of all the natural minerals on Earth. I just never heard of someone crafting a bullet out of this.”
“Mister Gunshot Wound was never identified. In fact, his body disappeared from the morgue the day after he arrived. The toxicology reports vanished into thin air as well. Everything was gone but these few pictures I have. What really gets me is that the coroner doesn’t recollect any significant findings, doesn’t note the bumps on the neck or the ring around the wound as anything out of the ordinary in his total piece of bullshit story - or. if you wanna get technical, his bogus report.”
“Well, clearly this man died of a gunshot wound,” reasoned Brody.
“Oh, no, see, I’m not doubting that. Even I can note the obvious cause of death as that. I wanna know what that ring is, what those bumps are, why the bullet was composed of magnetite, why the coroner denies any significant findings, why the body disappeared, why the toxicology finds were destroyed. This goes beyond a simply autopsy of a murder victim. Someone was trying to cover up this man’s death, who this man was.”
Will flipped through several more shots of the dead man including close ups of the projections on the neck and the metallic colored ring around the gunshot wound. Brody tore her gaze away from the screen to glance at her new partner. A smirk danced on his face, a glint shining wildly in his deep green orbs.
“Where are we going?” she questioned.
“The Mountain State.”
-
Beckley, West Virginia
November 15, 2030
Will pulled into the parking lot of the local morgue. Cutting the engine, he turned towards Brody as though he was to say something. Thinking better of it, he hauled his tall frame out of the sedan and headed briskly to the front door without waiting for Brody. Immediately, he went up to the front desk.
“I’m Special Agent William Van de Kamp,” he introduced himself as he produced his badge. “I need to speak with Doctor Conners.”
“Uh, hold on a second. I’ll go get him.”
The secretary disappeared into a back room when Brody entered the building. She looked more than just a little upset that Will had taken off without her. Will didn’t dare look at her, didn’t dare reveal that he cared what she thought. She was sent to spy on him, to shut down the X-Files, to keep the conspiracies quiet. Maybe, just maybe, if he convinced her of what was really out there, she could respect his crusade and mislead her bosses.
“I hear you’re with the FBI. How can I help you?”
An elderly man in a lab coat appeared. So this was the coroner who wrote down false findings and kept his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. Except, something about him didn’t feel right, didn’t feel human. Will’s heart pounded in his chest and conclusions were jumping to his mind. He had spent his whole life trying to deny his instincts, deny what he saw or what he could do. It hadn’t been until he came to the FBI that he allowed his intuition to roam freely, to guide him in his pursuits.
“Doctor Conners, you were the one who performed the autopsy on the John Doe who disappeared from the morgue a week ago, is that correct?” Brody took the lead.
“Yes, that’s correct. The cause of death was a gunshot wound to the heart. From what I can remember, he was a perfectly healthy young man who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“What about the bumps on his neck?” questioned Will.
“There was nothing irregular about that. Some people’s spins are just more clearly visible than others through the skin.”
“And the metallic color around the wound?” Brody asked as Will snorted in disbelief.
“Well, the bullet was made from magnetite. I’ve never quite seen anything like it before. Could have just been an allergic reaction from the metal. We’ll never really know since I never got to see the final toxicology reports.”
“Somehow I highly doubt that,” commented Will. “I want to know your real findings, Doctor Conners.”
“Sir, I have told you all that I have found in my preliminary tests. There was nothing extraordinary about the murder victim.”
“Then where is the body? Why go through the trouble to get rid of the body? Can you answer me that?” he shouted.
“Will, stop,” whispered Brody.
Her hand found itself on his arm. It was meant to calm him down, but it only enraged him more. Brushing her off him, he stepped forward towards the doctor with fire burning in his eyes. He wanted answers and not the runaround. There was an intense ringing in his ears, a warning to tell him to back down. His instincts were kicking in, telling him to turn around and not look back. Except he didn’t think that he could just back down without answers.
“Will, let’s go.”
“I’ll be back, Doctor Conners, and when I do, I want answers.”
Will forced his legs to jerk backwards and follow Brody outside. The farther he got away from the doctor, the ringing seemed to lessen in its intensity. He was only vaguely aware of Brody questioning him, her voice harsh as she demanded what the hell that was about. There were no answers to her inquiries.
His mouth felt like a desert. His throat felt as though it were closing up. The ringing in his head was replaced with a dull ache. It always happened when he got too close to those hybrids. His whole body would react, multiple warnings flickering on deep in his core. He couldn’t explain it.
“I wanna see the crime scene.”
-
Brody hung back as she watched her partner investigate the motel room. A couple had been staying there under the name Robert Petrie. They were an older couple identified in their mid-sixties. The man had towered over his petite wife according to the owner of the motel. The woman was a redhead and the man a brunette, both of them had streaks of gray in their hair. The man had been friendly, joked about the World Series games last month. The woman seemed detached, almost cold, as she lingered behind the male.
“Was there anything unusual about the couple, Mister Davis?” questioned Brody.
Will tore through the motel room looking for clues. The drawers lay discarded on the floor, the sheets ripped from the bed. He was going above and beyond the usual call of duty detective work.
“You mean if anything screamed murdering psychos?” the motel owner asked.
“I wouldn’t put it that way but yes.”
“Uh, the guy asked about the mountains.”
“What about the mountains?”
“Asked if you could just roam around on ‘em or if you had to have a guide.” The owner paused. “Why is he tearing the place apart?”
Will seemed frustrated as nearly everything was taken apart. It was as though he were looking for something specific, some little clue that only he knew about. Brody was baffled by the display.
“He’s just… investigating thoroughly,” she replied. “What else can you tell me about Mister Petrie and his wife?”
“You’re way too young to remember, but there used to be a show called The Dick Van Dyke Show and the main character was named Rob Petrie. I found it a little odd that this fellow had the same name.”
“It’s a fictional name?”
Her attention snapped to the motel owner. So the murderers may have been using aliases from a television show that had aired over a half century before. Slowly, her gaze found itself back on Will who was examining the carpet in the corner of the room.
“Well, I suppose someone may have the same name. You never know. I just thought it was sorta funny after that guy turned up dead in here. They seemed like a nice, wholesome couple. You know, the husband dragging his wife on a vacation she didn’t want to go on. It’s a classic.”
“So they were on vacation?”
“I suspect. Saw ‘em getting suitcases out of the trunk of their car.”
“Was it a rental?”
“I dunno. It was a sedan though. It was too dark to see anything specific about it.”
Will pocketed something silver into his jacket pocket before standing up and making his way over towards his partner and the witness.
“Mister Davis, can you let us know if you see them come back here?” requested Will.
Brody gave her partner a questioning glare, but he just shook his head. The owner conceded. Will thanked him for his help and motioned for Brody to follow him out to the car. Once inside, he pulled out a silver tube and held it in front of his face.
“What is it?”
Will shrugged his shoulders. His finger grazed over a small button and a pointed metal stake shot out of the top. Both of the agents jumped back slightly. Brody had never seen anything like it before. Obviously, it was some kind of weapon, but she couldn’t even give it a general name.
“They hid it under the carpet. I guess they didn’t want anyone to find it,” supplied Will.
“Will, that’s evidence. You shouldn’t be touching it.”
“I’m not turning this in.”
“Then you’re withholding evidence. It’s illegal!”
The blade retracted back into the tube. Will placed it back into his breast pocket before turning over the engine of the car. He drove through the streets of Beckley until he arrived at the motel they were staying at.
-
Will sat in his motel room going over the geological properties of the Appalachians. Magnetite was present in the mountain range. Never before had he gotten such a lead in these hybrids before. He found one, a dead one, and craved to know all the information that he could. It had been eighteen years before that when Will first laid eyes on one of these creatures when he was kidnapped. He could remember seeing the bumps on the base of their necks, feel the danger that pulsated through his body as a warning.
A swift knock on his motel room door snapped Will out of his musings. Rolling off the hard bed, he made his way to the front door. Peering through the peephole, he saw his new partner standing outside with her arms clenched around her stomach. He opened the door to allow her entrance.
“You okay?”
“I want you to look at something,” she said in a rush.
She brushed passed him in just her pajamas. Looking white and sweaty, she breathed heavily as she picked up her hair off the base of her neck. Taking a step forward, Will peered down at the skin to see several small bumps.
“Did they get me?” she whispered.
He ran a finger over one of the bumps and chuckled softly. Brody twitched in anticipation. He pulled back the collar of her silk shirt to look down her back. More bumps were present.
“They’re hives,” he replied.
“Hives?”
“They’re all down your back too. Did you eat something you weren’t supposed to?”
“Oh my God...”
She whipped around, locked her arms around Will’s waist, and buried her head into his chest. It really wasn’t something Will as expecting, but he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and whispered that she was fine. Suddenly, she jerked back and looked up at her partner in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Brody. Don’t worry about it.”
For the first time, Will felt like he truly saw the real Riley Brody - a vulnerable young woman who was battling her morals against the requests of government officials who wanted her to destroy him. He felt sympathy towards her.
“Sit down.”
He gestured towards his rumpled bed covered in folders, papers, and his laptop. Brody reluctantly made her way across the room and sat down upon the bed. Clearing her throat, she watched as Will sat down on the floor with his back against the bed.
“Will… do you honestly believe that our John Doe was really an… an alien-human hybrid?” Brody asked softly.
Will closed his eyes, memories of his worst memory from childhood washing over him completely. These men were strong, powerful, and definitely not human. He could remember being scared out of his wits, could remember that they didn’t feel human just like the coroner felt earlier that day.
“I was abducted when I was eleven,” he replied.
“I know… I read it in your file.”
“They were these hybrids. I remember the bumps on their necks…” Will trailed off.
A part of him wanted to tell Brody everything, tell her how they wanted him to do things with his mind… things that he could in fact do, things that lay dormant inside of him and only resurfaced when he needed them the most. Another part of him didn’t trust Brody enough to spill everything despite the fact that it might change her opinion on this case, on him.
“Will…”
“They wanted me for reasons I can’t even begin to comprehend. My parents didn’t believe me. They took me to hospitals to get me evaluated. They thought I had some sort of mental disorder… because I was adopted and they didn’t know my family history. They thought my biological parents were unstable and that’s why they gave me up.”
“What did these men do to you?”
Will twisted his upper body to look at Brody. She seemed genuinely concerned as her gaze clung to him unblinking. He felt so naked, so exposed. He hadn’t talked about any of this since he was eleven or twelve. Don’t ask, don’t tell - that became the policy in the Van de Kamp household quickly after the whole ordeal.
“I don’t remember much,” he lied.
She didn’t look like she believed him for one second, but she let it go. Will had never been so grateful in his entire life. So instead of spilling his sob story to her, he swiftly changed the subject.
“Tell me about yourself,” he suggested.
“What do you wanna know?”
“Anything.”
Anything was better than talking about his kidnapping. He didn’t care if she told him about her awkward adolescent years or what was going on in her life now. Anything that didn’t pertain to him sounded just wonderful.
“Um… I have a big brother named Dean. Married with one little girl. He’s a high school history teacher. I also have a little sister named Blake. She’s a nurse at a hospital. What about you?”
“Only child. At least… I was the only kid my parents adopted. I dunno if I have any biological siblings running around.” Will relaxed against the bed. “Did you ever have an imaginary friend growing up?”
“I called him Frankie and told everyone he was a ghost who haunted our house.”
A smile broke out on Will’s face. He could hear Brody collapse on the bed behind him, a long sigh escaping through her lips. She was no doubt mortified that she told him about her imaginary friend.
“I had three,” commented Will. “Their names were Byers, Frohike, and Langley.”
“What? Where did you come up with those names?”
Will didn’t dare tell her he didn’t believe they were just figments of his imagination. He believed that they were real somehow. They had saved his life before, talked to him even until this day when he really needed someone. It was just easier to call them imaginary instead of letting anyone know he thought they were real.
“I had a wild imagination. I used to fight off garden gnomes too,” he joked.
“Are you sure the gnomes weren’t being possessed by aliens?” jested Brody.
The jab was meant to be playful, and Will let out a low chuckle. She was trying to break the ice, and he took it for that. He let her have her small victory of breaching the ironclad wall he built up around himself.
“Do you want to find your biological parents?” questioned Brody.
“I only think about it every day,” he answered honestly. “I wonder what they look like… what their hobbies are… what their jobs were… I just constantly wonder about them.”
“Have you tried to use your connections to find them?”
“Ha, it was a completely closed adoption. My mom said that they only thing they knew was that my mother was single when she gave me up. They asked about the father but were told he wasn’t even in the picture. I was about ten months old when my parents got me.”
“What about a confidential intermediary?”
“I tried. It didn’t work. I mean, it was like all files on my biological parents just disappeared. Nobody can find a record that they even existed. I knew that it would be impossible to find my birth father on my own… but I always thought I’d find my birth mother.”
Will got up from the floor and started to pace around the motel room. He wasn’t much for emotions or sob stories. In fact, he didn’t even know why he started to tell his pathetic tale to a woman who was sent to destroy his life’s work. She seemed so sincere though, seemed interested in his thoughts and feelings. Part of him was screaming that it was a ploy to get him to trust her. Another part was telling her she was true.
“I’m sorry if I’m prying,” she spoke softly as she sat up.
“My birth mother only requested one thing… she didn’t want them changing my name.”
“Maybe you have family name….?”
“Oh, yeah, because William isn’t unique at all,” he bit out.
“What about your middle name? Isn’t it some sort of animal?”
“Fox. Yeah, I’m convinced my mother was a druggie or something if she named me William Fox.”
“It has to be a family name. Have you ever tried looking at records of people named Fox?”
“It’s useless, Brody. They obviously didn’t want me, so I don’t know why I care so much.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his three friends flicker into the room. Byers, Frohike, and Langley had come to pay a visit. Turning his head towards them, he noticed that they all seemed sad or something with deep frowns etched into their eyebrows.
“Will, you okay?”
Snapping his attention to Brody, he looked at her briefly before turning back to the men. They had vanished without a trace. He didn’t have the heart to explain anything to her so he just nodded numbly before mumbling something about being exhausted. She understood immediately. She hoisted herself off the bed and walked towards him. Her hand ran down the length of his arm as she whispered, “Goodnight.” Then she was gone, off to her own room next door.
-
The next morning, Will woke up Brody early and headed out towards the Appalachian Mountains to investigate. Will wanted to find the Petrie husband and wife duo more than anything. They knew of alien-human hybrids, knew how to kill them. He craved to know their knowledge, to have someone to talk to who understood what was going on better than he. The mountains, he hoped, would be the key.
“Will, it’s six in the morning,” yawned Brody. “Why couldn’t we have waited a few more hours?”
Glancing over at his partner, he noticed she was freezing. Her hands rubbed together feverishly as she cowered into her jacket. Tearing his gaze away from her, he crouched down to study the mountain beneath him. He grabbed a few loose pieces of rock and placed them into his jacket pocket. When he got back to D.C., he wanted them tested for magnetite. Perhaps the Appalachians were where the Petrie twosome got their magnetite for their gun.
“Will, we have company,” she whispered.
Half of him expected it to be Rob Petrie and his wife to collect more bullet materials. Except, it was man who instantly turned Will’s insides around. The warning ring sounded throughout his head as he drew his gun. Brody followed suit.
“Sir, stay back and identify yourself. We’re with the FBI,” she commanded.
Will watched as the man kept his distance from the mountain as though he were afraid of it. Intuition told Will to shoot the man, antagonize him forward just to see what would happen. He was calmer than he was before with the coroner. Perhaps, it was the Appalachians that put him at ease.
“Haven’t seen you in a long time, William,” the man said.
Brody turned towards her partner, a burning question clear on her face. Instead of acknowledging her, he stared at the alien-human hybrid in front of him. He couldn’t recall the face for the life of him. Perhaps it was one of his abductors.
Curiosity got the better of Will as he took several steps forward. His gun was still raised, pointed directly at the heart of the hybrid. His finger toyed with the trigger of the gun, itching to jerk backwards and allow the shell to dislodge itself from the barrel. Taking another step forward, the buzzing in his head intensified until he couldn’t even think straight straight. His finger yanked back and a bullet went hurtling out of the handgun.
Brody gasped as the bullet hit the man square in the chest. He didn’t seem bothered by the buckshot in the least. A snort escaped the man’s thin lips as he advanced towards the two FBI agents. Will stumbled back until he tumbled onto his backside. The rocks dug into the palms of his hands.
“Stop!” shouted Brody as she fired a shot.
Her bullet did nothing to stop the man’s progress towards them. His eyes were coldly staring at Will with a determined gleam shining on his face. Suddenly, the man just froze and grimaced. Slowly his whole body started to change until he was covered in a metallic-like substance. Suddenly, the man darted forward into the side of the mountain like they were being pulled together by a cosmic force.
Will tore his gaze away from the point of impact to look at his shocked partner. She had ducked to the ground at some point and was laying only a few feet away from him. Her mouth moved as though to form words but nothing escaped her ruby lips.
“Awesome, huh?” questioned Will weakly with a smirk.
“Wh-what happened?”
“I think an alien-human hybrid just died because it has a weakness to magnetite.”
A small chuckle slipped out of Brody’s mouth. Will slowly stood up, wiping his bloodied hands on his jeans. He made his way over to his partner and extended his hands to help her up. With a soft smile, she grabbed his hands into hers and allowed him to hoist her up.
“I can’t believe this…” she whispered. “I can’t even comprehend what I just saw…”
“Brody,” he spoke softly, “you need to think about this in terms of what you’re going to write in your report. They will destroy you if you start writing about this kind of stuff with an open mind.”
Brody faltered, the creeping smile disappeared completely off her face. Nodding numbly, she took one last glance at the mountain before following Will to his car.
-
Arlington, Virginia
November 17, 2030
Will walked into his apartment feeling one step closer to the bigger truths that lay beyond common knowledge. He had watched a man die by magnetite, an element that he was just only beginning to comprehend. It was almost unbelievable that after all this time trying to find the aliens that kidnapped him when a kid he had finally found them. It was all thanks to the X-Files which gave him the perfect time and means to find cases that others would cast aside as nonsense.
The answering machine on his living room desk blinked brightly in the darkened apartment. Pressing the play button, a male voice filled the room asking Will to meet him in two hours. The man claimed he had information on his last case, about the hybrids Will was so desperate to figure out.
Agent Van de Kamp has a very solid belief system, and I believe that he will not rest until he finds a denouement that is fitting to his quest for the truths he so desperately seeks.
Will shivered involuntarily at the biting wind. His hair blew back on his head to allow his face a clear shot to be assaulted by the bitter November air. His informant was late or quite possibly a no show. It would be typical if the guy wouldn’t show because more often than not these so-called know-it-alls left him standing alone in the late hours of the night.
Though there is no concrete evidence that Agent Van de Kamp’s accusations are even remotely feasible, it would be in my good conscious to allow him to continue his work on the X-Files under a careful eye. I do not believe that he is a threat to himself or anyone else for that matter. He is simply a man of strong convictions.
“Agent Van de Kamp,” a male voice called.
Will turned around and spotted an older man with glasses approaching him cautiously. There was no intuition, no thoughts, or feelings to help Will determine whether or not this man was there to help him or harm him. Too many times before had he met with informants that were unstable, delusional, and proceeded to act in a series of deranged behaviors. They were mostly phonies, UFO nuts, people who didn’t possess any real knowledge. This man, however, looked grounded and stable. In the pit of Will’s gut, he knew this man had information for him.
“My name is Gibson Praise.”
I cannot explain what Agent Van de Kamp and I witnessed in West Virginia while on the John Doe case. We were unable to retrieve any evidence that it was nothing other than a body snatching from a morgue. There were no leads, no explanations, no helpful civilians. There seems to have been no motive, no reason for that body to disappear. It is in my professional belief that the murderer(s) snatched the body and discarded it to avoid forensic evidence to be found that would incriminate him/her.
“You said you had information for me about the John Doe who died in West Virginia,” Will commented to cut to the point.
“That John Doe was a military employee. If you check through records, you will come across his picture and dossier.”
“Are you saying that the military didn’t want this man to be revealed so they stole the body from the morgue and bought off the coroner?”
“I’m saying that a secret group of government men didn’t want anyone seeing the body because he wasn’t human anymore. He was made into what is called a Super Soldier. An ordinary man created into something extraordinary. The only way to kill a Super Soldier is by magnetite.”
We encountered a man whom Agent Van de Kamp claimed to be an alien-human hybrid. This man tried to kill us for attempting to get too close to the truth about our John Doe - who Agent Van de Kamp believes to be an alien-human hybrid as well.
“Why magnetite?” questioned Will.
“It’s believed that it off sets a Super Soldier’s iron levels and therefore terminates it. We’ve found nothing else that can kill one.”
“We?”
It is Agent Van de Kamp’s belief that these alien-human hybrids can be tracked by protrusions on the back of the neck. There could be a number of logical explanations as to why these men had bumps on their necks. Except, I cannot explain how the man who attacked us died. One minute he was advancing on Agent Van de Kamp and myself; the next he freezes as his whole body begins to change into what appears to be a metallic substance.
“My associates and I,” he replied. “My associates who killed that John Doe with the magnetite bullet.”
“Who are your associates?”
I cannot explain what happened next in rational terms. The man disappeared into the Appalachian Mountains. It was as though the two were magnets being drawn together. Although I do not agree with Agent Van de Kamp’s explanation of alien-human hybrids, I cannot deny what I saw nor even begin to comprehend it.
“Fox Mulder and Dana Scully.”
-
Heels clicked on a tiled floor lined with rows upon rows of filing cabinets. A brunette woman stopped in front of the B’s. Placing her cigarette into her mouth, she freed her hands to rifle through the folders. Her fingers wrapped around the file that read Brody, Riley A. Taking one last drag of her cigarette, she dropped it on the floor and stepped on it. She then flipped through the contents lazily.
“What are you doing?” a deep voice questioned.
“We put her in this position based upon good faith that we have enough on her to ruin not only her career but her life,” she responded coolly. “Except, I seem to remember reading about how Dana Scully didn’t exactly follow orders when it came to Fox Mulder.”
“You think she’ll be as big as a problem?” The bulky man stepped out of the shadows and stood next to the woman.
“I’m saying that William has dewy sensitive eyes and sad puppy dog looks. He’ll break her soon enough and get her to follow him faithfully.”
“He didn’t seem to break you with his dewy sensitivity and long looks, Walsh,” the man said in an amused tone.
She snapped the folder closed and cleared her throat. Placing it back into the filing cabinet, she pushed the drawer shut before she turned to look at the man.
“We should really update this filing system. It’s ancient and impractical,” she said calmly.
“You’ve already done the ultimate sin towards him, Walsh. Don’t get all sentimental and gloomy now.” The man smirked. “You’re just a Benedict Arnold. Get used to your new role.”
“Did I have a choice?” she snapped.
“There’s always a choice. You made your bed, now lie in it.”
Notes - This is my first X-Files project since the show was on the air. Therefore, I slowly have to get back into my grove. This little 'project' of mine is going to be like a TV show written in narrarive format. The first "season" will consist of twelve 'episodes' - sort of like a mid-season show. I am going to attempt to post every Sunday unless otherwise stated. Episodes 1-4 are completed. Do note that episodes 1-2 were not edited since I hadn't gotten an editor until the third epsiode rolled around.
Next Sunday - Part two of the series opener - Archelaus: After learning about Super Soldiers and the identity of his parents, Will starts to search desperately for answers.
I am currently looking for co-writers and editors. Please message/comment me with your email address if you're interested.