Title: Possession 
Author:Dantzi Jean 
E-mail:phantom_lass@hotmail.com 
Rating: Pg-13/R I'm not sure 
Timeline: sixth season 
Spoilers: none 
Archive: sure just e-mail me when you want to and my name stays on it 
Summary: Mulder and Scully go to a southern plantation to investigate some hauntings while
discovering a lot about themselves. 
Disclaimer:X-files the series and the characters do not belong to me I am just borrowing
them(sigh) No infringement intended. 
Author's Note: This idea just came to me one night watching Gone With The Wind so i hope you
like it. 



   The cold emptiness of winter had a firm and icy grasp on Mississippi that December morning of
1864. 
   Pockets of old snow lingered in the shadows of gently rolling hills, backwood hallows and
bottomland swamps, as did the occasional body of a dead soldier or horse who had been overlooked
rather then buried with those who had fallen along side him. The snow covered with spots and
puddles of dried blood giving testimony of the war that had raged just a few short months ago.
The footprints of a thousand marching soldiers lay in the ice-packed earth off to fight the war
they thought would end within a few weeks. 
    Colonel Edward Braxton sat on his coal black roan atop a wooded ridge. He pulled the great
folds of his cloak closer around him and attempted to ignore the bitter wind blowing through the
desecrated country side. The man could scarcely believe that this was his beloved Magnolia. The
plantation no longer resembled the idyllic memories he had taken with him when he enlisted to 4
years of hell. Trading the fine threads of a plantation farmer for the coarse gray of the
Confederacy uniform. Magnolia had once been paradise: lush and green and plentiful with cotton,
tobacco, fruit orchards, and the leather leaved trees that provided it's name. But now was
desolate, a lifeless landscape of raw earth and jagged stumps of the magnificence of what had
once been. The main house-which used to stand two stories high and the whitewashed brick and
chiselled limestone no longer resembled the tall proud structure he had known all his life but
now was a scorched ruin of the immaculate walls and columns. 
   He found that he could remain on the ridge no longer, he had to find out, he had to know. A
neighboring planter had written to him with news of home. The last letter had sent Edward racing
home almost abandoning his troop. 
   The last paragraph of the letter had read; 
"When I thought it was safe enough to go out, I rode out to Magnolia and found the place in
blackened ruins. I searched the entire spanse of the plantation, but could find so sign of Miss
Shannon there. The few slaves that remained could tell me little about her whereabouts or what
had become of her." 
     For the past fourteen days Edward Braxton had ridden hard  with the maddening mystery of
Shannon's death foremost in his mind. He had just reached the  end of the winding dirt road
which led to the main house when he was caught by a fit of coughing that almost rocked him from
the saddle.  The wet rattle of consumption sounded deep within his lungs and an ache that felt
as if a cannon ball were pressing on his chest.  Edward pulled out the Colt Navy.36 from 
it's holster on his hips and made his way in
to the house. 
    The house was burnt to the ground the ceiling was no longer over his head and the beautiful
carpeted floors were now stained with black under his feet. 
    Edward cautiously made his way up  the back stairs as the main staircase was no more, he was
entering Shannon's sitting room when a rustle came from behind him. 
   "Who's there?" he demanded, standing just inside the doorway and hearing no reply he shouted
again to the invisble intruder. "Who's there? Tell me or as God as my witness I shall run you
through with my blade!" 
   "My boy, Edward please it's only me." came the voice of the elderly man who lived a few 
miles away from Magnolia. 
    "What happened here?" Edward asked 
     Through a long tale Ashton had come to reside at Magnolia a few months before the yankees
took over the plantation. His plantation had been burned the year before and Shannon had been
kind enough to let him live there until the war was over. A Yankee captain had come one night
and took the place over and had taken Ashton to one of the slaves' quarters and lamed him so to
prevent him from going in search of help. He had last seen Shannon arguing with the Yankee
captain. He had heard screaming and had tried to get out of the shack he was in but failed to do
so because of the injury caused by the aYankees. He heard the Yankee captain laughing like
"lusifer himself" and the soldiers laughing and cheering. Through the doorway he saw Shannon
pull a gun from underneath her skirts. Edward had recognized the gun as a present he had given
her for protection before he left for the war.   After he had seen the gun Ashton had passed out
from the pain of his wound. 
    "But what about Shannon? What happened to Shannon?" Edward asked him eagerly. 
    "They killed her and buried her somewhere on the plantation." 
    "But *where*?!" he almost shouted losing patience with the man across the table. 
    "I'm sorry, son, I just don't know." 
     Edward had found a place for the neighbor at a shelter house for the poor then returned
home. He knew what he had to do. The thought of his beloved Shannon lying beneath the frozen
ground maddened him to the very brink. He would not rest until he found her and she was properly
laid to rest in the Braxton family crypt. He found a rusted shovel and a pickaxe in the corner
of  the looted shed. Picked a spot, and started digging. Again and Again he struck the earth out
of frustration and anger at himself, Yankees, the President, the war and the rest of the world.
He was determined to find Shannon. He *had* to. 


    The third day after Edward Braxton had returned home Peter Osborne decided to take a ride to
the plantation. to check on the man who had been his best friend since childhood. He had
refrained from visiting Edward simply out of respect for the grieving. In his heart he knew
Shannon was dead, that those devilish Yankees had murdered her and performed God knows what
atrocities before that. For two days he had watched the Braxton plantation from his window, in
his home on the top of the ridge, he watched as a single lantern went to and fro across the
plantation grounds. 
     He had no idea what the man was doing out there but he was worried for his friend and
considered it his christian duty to help anyway he could.  He walked his horse up the long path
of the drive and saw a number of hole along the route and figured what Edward had been doing for
the past three days he had been home. 
     It did not take long to find the one he was searching for. An explosion of feeble coughing
drew Osborne's attention, he picked his way through blackened debris to what used to be the rear
parlor of the house. He found Edward lying on a couch that was black with smoke and fire. Edward
was deathly pale and was flushed with the color of fever. The sweat of the sickness was frozen
on the man's brow from the low temperature of winter. Osborne saw the man that was his friend
and knew death was close at hand. He removed his jacket and draped it over Edward's shivering
form. Another violent cough escaped his friend again. Osborne could hear the wet rattling in his
lungs and knew that he was in the final throes of pneumonia. Osborne kelt next to the couch and
took his friends hand. Weakly he felt the return squeeze of the bloody dirt-caked fingers.
Edward eyes opened. 
   "Thank you, Pete. Thank you for waking me." He said as he attempted to rise from his
makeshift deathbed and tried to take the shovel from beside the sofa. 
     It took little effort to restrain him. "Stay, you've done the work of twenty men. Now it is
time for you to rest. You deserve that much." 
    "But I am *not* deserving! I have failed, failed miserably to locate the remains of my
beloved Shannon. I must rise and continue the search! I simply must!" 
     Despite this outburst he pushed Edward back onto the sofa and held him there. "To search
for her this way is pure insanity. Rest, and soon you will see her on the other side of this
world, in heaven." 
     He felt Edward give in, "Of couse." muttered Edward "You are right I will see her again,
someday." 
     "Surrrender, my friend, surrender and claim your reward, your wife." Then abruptly Edwards
eyes cleared and his expression changed to what he could only decribe as celestial. For a brief
moment his eyes were full of rapture and pure joy. Then that joy faded and in it's stead horror
showed on Edward's features "Oh, dear God in heaven....no!" he yelled 
   "What is it? What is wrong?" 
   "She is not there! My beloved Shannon...she is lost!" 



End of prolougue***************************Part 1 coming soon

***************************************

Author's Note: I know another cliffhanger I'm famous for those so just bare with me and here's
the first part. Some of this is going to be POV so don't get confused on me. 

Possession 


    I looked at the case file Mulder handed me and peered at the contents within. A couple in
Vicksburg, Mississippi had reported strange happening in their renovated plantation. And Mulder
being Mulder wanted to talk to the couple Mr. and Mrs. Loughlin. THe couple had bought a
burnt-down plantation house and had turned it into a dream home and it was a dream home from the
pictures in the file showed a picturesque home and the perfect southern home. 
    Mrs. Laughlin had reported strange things moving in the kitchen and she had claimed to have
seen the ghost of one Shannon Braxton which she presumed haunted the house and a fires had
started with no apparent cause of combustion. 
    I stole a sideways look at Mulder who had a sunflower seed in his mouth and his eyes on the
road. He seemed a little more driven with this case then with our recent cases his eyes
positively sparkled when he related to me the happenings of this house. His hair had grown
longer then usual and that gave him a rough appearance that he hid under the daytime suits that
I almost always saw him wear. 
   "So what about the history of the house?" I asked him 
   "Well, It's quite interesting in fact," he began and I just pushed the recline button on my
chair and listed to his rich baritone. 
   "The house survived the battle of Vicksburg only because it was used as a camp for a Yankee
troop headed by Captain James Bates, quite a hero in his time, the master of the house was away
fighting the war and had left his wife, Shannon Braxton, behind. It's not too clear what
happened from there, Shannon was killed while being raped by the captain and Bates died of a
gunshot wound, neither of their graves have ever  been found." He looked for acknowledgement and
I nodded. 
   "What about the husband?" I asked curious now. 
   "He came home in December of 1864 and a friend said he died of pneumonia a couple days after
he returned, he is buried in the family's vault." he added as a n afterthought. 
    we talked very little after that and we finally arrived at the plantation house, the
Laughlin's had been kind enough to let us stay at the house to see for ourselves the ghosts of
Magnolia.  I thought as we knocked on the front door of the house. The house
was a perfect story book house the whitewash columns, and the high windows, like Gone With The
Wind. A woman in her mid thirties answered the door with wide rimmed glasses on and a look of
interest. 
   "Mrs. Laughlin? I'm Agent Scully and this," i said indicating to Mulder "is Agent Mulder. I
belive you are expecting us?" I said holding my badge out for her to see. 
   "Oh yes, I'm sorry I was just into my novel, I'm a writer and I wasn't expecting you till
later tonight." 
    I wasn't really listening to what Mrs. Laughlin was saying but I was fascinated by the
grandeur of the antebellum home, a huge chandelier was at the head of the winding staircase
which was immaculately white and the brass fixtures over the hearth and the door were polished
and beautiful it was the perfect dream home. 
    Country music was blaring from the west wing of the second floor of the house and a male
voice resounding through the ceiling, at my puzzled look upwards Mrs. Laughlin explained that
her husband--Jerome was an artist and she a writer, he designed her book covers and was working
on one now and the music helped him with the creative process. 
    A house keeper then appeared from the back door of the parlor e were sitting in and took
Mulder and I up to our rooms up to our rooms, I was given the blue room and Mulder the gold, I
was later to learn the reasons for the names of these rooms, there was an adjoining door to our
rooms and as we both situated into our own rooms I found myself relaxing and almost forgetting I
was on assignment. 
     Later that night the housekeeper came and took us to the dining room for supper, I not
having many fancy clothes settled for a dark blue pant set I had bought the week before. 
     I walked down to the dining room to where we were to eat Mrs. Laughlin was sitting next to
a man in his late thirties and talking happily with him, this man I presumed was her husband,
Jerome. The man approached me with a smile. 
   "Hello, Agent Scully, I'm Jerome Laughlin." he said hand extended 
   "Nice to meet you Mr. Laughlin." I said sitting in a chair a little way off from the couple,
Mulder had not yet arrived, and the cook waiting for everyone hadn't served the dinner yet. 
    I engaged in polite conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Laughlin and was commenting on the size
of Magnolia when Mulder entered the room and sat next to me. Mulder being Mulder wanted to get
right down to the heart of the matter and asked. "What was the first incident that happened here
at Magnolia?" 
   "Actually," said Mrs. Laughlin who had assumed responsibility for the conversation, "I was
about eight years old when i first saw something here at Magnolia. I saw the ghost of Shannon
Braxton." She said simply. 
    Mulder glanced over at me as I took a bite of the lamb we were being served. 
   "I was trick-or-treating with a couple of friends when on a mutual dare we came up to the
house and walked up the drive-way, the house was reputed haunted, we were all quite scared and
when we heard a howl my friends ran back to the other end of the street, the howl turned out to
be an owl, I stayed staring at the house. I saw-at least I think I saw," she added giving me a
sheepish glance. "a woman standing on the second floor balcony of which the floor boards had
been burned out long ago in the fire. The lady was dressed in a silken nightgown of light blue,
which appeared to be soiled and torn. She was quite lovely. Her skin was white as the columns of
the house and a long fall of rich auburn hair trailed over her shoulder. But her face is what
disturbed me the most. It was one of pain and distress, and complete loss. The woman's eyes were
full of panic and despair. she stared across the grounds of the plantation as if desperately
searching, searching-- for someone." 
    I hated to interrupt on such a memory but Mulder was almost literally jumping out of his
seat shouting 'I told you so' "Mrs. Laughlin? Are you sure this apparition you saw  wasn't some
prank played on you by the other children?" 
   "No, I don't think so Agent Scully, It was something more then that. I really think that it
was some sort of spirit." she said truthfully to me. "That and me wanting to be closer to my
family is why I wanted to buy Magnolia I wanted it after that night it had some sort of hold on
me, it was as if I needed to own this place to make it real to convince people and myself that
what I saw that night was real and that it really did happen." 


    After that conversation at the dinner table nothing more was said about Magnolia or the
hauntings that had occurred there. Mrs. Laughlin gave us a tour of the house and then left us to
retire to our own rooms. 
    I sat in my room going over the case history again to make sure nithing was missed, a knock
at my door drew my attention. 
   "Come in." I said and turned to greet the unseen guest. 
    Mulder smiled and looked at me and said, "Welcome to Magnolia." 
before turning and walking back to his own room. 
    I took a bath and prepared for bed 'Welcome to Magnolia' I thought to myself before I
settled into a  deep dreamless sleep. 

END OF PART 1*********************PART 2 COMING SOON

*******************************************

That night  Mulder found himself caught in the midst of a dream. Or, more  precisely, the
clutches of a terrifying nightmare. 


    I am standing in the center of a dark thicket surrounded by bush and bramble. Overhead a
full moon hangs high in the sky in the autumn sky, casting an eerie glow to the trees and bushes
around me. At first, I couldn't identify my surroundings.But then as I left the shelter of the
grove of trees I saw the old mansion, and realized where I was. I was standing on the grounds of
Magnolia years before it's apparent revitalization. 
    Something else puzzled me I was no longer an adult but a child of maybe eleven or twelve. I
was also in a Halloween costume, Batman. I was alone and I could not keep my gaze from the
mansion. I could not understand why I was there I had grown up mostly on the east coast not in
the heart of the south. I walked toward the old mansion, 
and was nearly to the front steps of the house when something drew my attention. It was the
sound of forlorn weeping, and it came from the balcony directly overhead. Curious to know the
source of the crying, I looked upward and saw a ghostly figure standing above me where no person
could possibly stand. At first, the woman seemed unfamiliar. She was beautiful, small and
petite. Her hair was dark auburn in color and her nightgown was made of the sheerest light blue
silk. The only thing unlovely about the woman was her face. She seemed to be in the painful
throes of some horrid emotion, torn between grief and absolute terror. 
    Then without warning, my dream changed and I was a full grown man, still standing looking
upwards at the woman, who was no longer a stranger. Instead of the ghostly woman was Scully on
top of the balcony clutching the railing with a frantic grasp. Her face held an expression I had
never seen, and agonizing mixture of intense fear and suffering. The familiar negligee of
delicate lace and light blue silk was filthy and nearly torn from her delicate frame. Even from
where I was I could distinctly see the inflamed fingermarks and bruises along the slim column of
her neck as well as ugly dark bruises and welts on her breasts. 
    "Scully!" I called and rushed foreward to make my way up to my frightened partner to comfort
her to wipe away the agony on her face as I had done so many other times before. But my body did
not respond to my commands of movement. I was rooted helpless to the spot where I stood. I could
only watch in horror as the french doors of the balcony swung open. Laughter emerged from those
doors as evil as the devil himself. The laughter and darkness reached out and took hold of
Scully and pulled her into the dark recesses of the plantation house. 

"Nooooooo!" I screamed as I woke with a violent start. the memory of the dream still with me I
tried to reassure myself that I was truly awake. I sat upright and took long slow breaths trying
to calm myself.My room, gold on every surface, was lit with a faint glow. At first, I thought I
had forgot to turn the lamp next to the bed off before I went to sleep, in the next second I
knew it wasn't the case. The yellowish light reflecting on the bedroom wall and despite the
color of the room I knew it wasn't my light for the glow danced and leapt as if alive. I sprang
from the bed and crossed the bedroom to the window, I could only think of one reason for the
commotion outside. the Magnolia grove from the main highway to the house was on fire. Beyond the
glass panes leapt tongues of bright flame, and I could feel the heat of the blaze radiating from
the other side of the window. I opened the window and my emotion changed from fear into total
bewilderment. 
    The October night was cool dark and silent I stared down at the Magnolia grove beneath the
window. There was no fire there just dewy leaves and dense shadow. I took a deep breath and
relaxed know there were no cause for alarm but as I did so a peculiar odor came to my nostrils.
The smell of burnt magnolia, it was both sweet and sour at the same time, like nothing I'd ever
smelled before. I took a sharp look a the window and saw again that nothing was amiss. I
shrugged took a deep breath and went back to my bed with a troubling feeling hanging over my
head. And as I drifted into a dreamless sleep the scent of burnt magnolia lingered in the room
and in my mind. 


*      *        *          *           *          *           * 


After the final members of the wedding party had extended their heartfelt congratulations and
the last of the horse-drawn buggies had made it's way down the path that was littered with the
magnolia trees that led straight up to the main house, Edward Braxton and his new bride,
Shannon,  turned to one another. 
   "Now that our guests are gone," Edward said, a sly spark glinting in his dark green eyes,
"the remainder of the evening belongs to us and us alone." 
    Shyly the young bride smiled at her new husband. "Let us go upstairs." she suggested. Edward
detected that beneath that air of demure femininity lie a hint of something wild and untamed.
"Now." 
    Edward wasted no time he extended his arm to his new wife and led them up the long staircase
lit only by a single candle in his hand. 
    In the next moment they were in the master bedroom. tension filled the chamber. Mostly due
to their first night together as man and wife, as well as the anticipation of the passion which
had been honorably suppressed during their courtship. 
    Edward turned to the door and turned the latch. He turned toward his bride. Shannon had
already taken the pins from her hair and let it's long auburn locks spill forth in disarray.
Edward pulled at the constricting necktie at his troat and watched helplessly. Shannon's petite
arms reached around to undo the lacings of the wedding gown. The white dress fell from her
shoulders and pooled on the ground at her feet. Without further hesitation, Edward stripped off
his coat and shirt, the advanced to her. He heard her moan as he pressed his lips on hers gently
at first then with urgency and need that fuelled them both. Soon both husband and wife were
completely naked. Flesh pressing against flesh as Braxton took Shannon in his arms and carried
her to the big canopied bed they were to share from this day onward. 
   "Gently," whispered Shannon, as the man's weight bore down upon her. His deep fathomless eyes
showed compassion and tenderness as he slowed his pace. The young woman gasped at his entrance
to her body, a moment later though all pain tuned to pleasure. Gradually their coupling became
more urgent and frantic. They reached the pinnacle of ecstasy together, then collapsed into the
engulfing folds of the deep feather mattress. 
   "I love you Edward."whispered Shannon as she lay her head on the 
arms of her new husband. 
   "And I love you as well, my dear," reciprocated Edward pulling her closer "with all my heart
and soul." 
    After they had rested the two rose from their marriage bed and stood at the french doors,
staring past the panes to the southern night that stretched beyond. "All this is yours now, my
dear" vowed Edward. ":The plantation grounds, the magnolia grove and this wonderful house built
by my father is all yours now." 
    Shannon stared up into her husband's face, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of joy.
"All I really need is you, Edward, that is all I could really hope for." 
    The two newly weds embraced and stared out over the richness of the land know that they
would share this and their lives and a soon-to-be-family within the boundaries of the plantation
they had called Magnolia. 


END OF PART 2********************PART 3 COMING SOON