We Have Always Lived In The Castle
Part 1
by ConspiracyBuff
Rating: R
Synopsis: Mulder goes ghost hunting.
Notes: Thanks to everyone who has shown
renewed interest in my stories. This is written
especially for Joey and Sue, who have contributed
in so many ways.
Prologue
Scrambling into the butler's closet under the magnificent
stairwell, Mulder pulled the door tightly closed and huddled
in one tiny corner to wait. He desperately hoped this dusty
spot would provide him safe refuge from whatever inhabited
this abandoned and dilapidated house. Brushing cobwebs
from his hair, Mulder attempted to calm himself and think
rationally. Obviously, his options were extremely limited and
giving into hysteria would most certainly cost his life.
The sudden and unexpected storm still raged. Bone jarring
claps of thunder rocked the wretched house to its very
foundation. Flash flooding had mired his car in a rapidly
filling swamp. Mulder knew he wouldn't stand a chance
leaving on foot.
Tears of self-reproach and terror bordering on panic stung
his eyes. Mulder dashed the tears angrily with his fist,
recalling the thousands of times Skinner had lectured him
about keeping secrets and leaping headfirst into unknown
situations without backup.
Thinking of Skinner made Mulder feel even worse. He would
joyfully welcome the assistant director with open arms at the
moment. He wouldn't complain about the punishment that
would surely follow Skinner's gruff, yet warm embrace, either.
Instantly, Mulder's attention was snapped back to his present
surroundings. He felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle.
Goose bumps broke out along the flesh of his forearms.
Mulder was not alone.
Covering his mouth with both hands, the terrified agent tried
to prevent his chattering teeth from giving away his location.
Thursday night...
Unable to sleep, Mulder sat at his computer, surfing the 'net.
After hitting all the usual chat channels, he discovered a very
new and exciting paranormal research website. Clicking
delightedly through various and sundry links, Mulder finally hit
the jackpot, when he came across a page containing maps
and directions to a selection of houses within easy driving
distance of DC.
If the web site was to be believed, one particular dwelling had
nearly sixty years of documented witnessed accounts of
paranormal activity: Objects moving of their own accord.
Ectoplasm oozing from walls. Sudden and dramatic temperature
drops. All the stereotypical signs of haunting.
Willow House has remained silent and secluded for the last fifty
years. The present owner had made no attempts to restore the
once beautiful domicile. Due to its history and current state of
disrepair, the distinguished old home is now uninhabitable.
The web site owner cautioned any intrepid explorers interested
in visiting to Willow House to reconsider.
Of course, this warning only heightened Mulder's curiosity. He
printed the map and directions, then book marked the site before
logging off for the night.
Friday afternoon.....lunchtime
Mulder begged out of lunch, lying to Scully, claiming a slight
temperature and headache.
Dr. Scully promptly sent him home, refusing to listen to any
further arguments.
Instead of going straight to bed as his doctor ordered, Mulder
changed into jeans, sneaks and a ratty old sweatshirt. He
packed a satchel with audio and video recording equipment,
his nifty new Sony digital camera, spare weapon, bottled water
and his ever present bag of sunflower seeds.
As Mulder hopped into his car, he felt a thrill of excitement. He
hoped to witness at least one spectral manifestation and capture
it on tape. His smile widened, imagining the expressions on Scully
and Skinner's faces, when he presented them with irrefutable
proof of the existence of ghosts.
Meanwhile back at the ranch...
Scully snatched up the ringing telephone, "Scully.
Is that you, Mulder?"
"No, it's Skinner. Where is Mulder, anyway? I need to
speak with him," replied the gruff assistant director.
Scully sighed, "He said he had a headache, sir. He felt a little warm,
so I sent him home with instructions to go straight to bed. Is there
something I can help you with, sir?"
"No. Thanks anyway, Dana. I'll give him time to catch a nap, then
call him at home." Skinner informed her before hanging up, "I really
appreciate how well you look out for Mulder. I know I don't tell you,
often enough. Thanks again, Dana."
As Mulder cruised along the freeway, the wind picked up, buffeting
the car occasionally. He flipped on the radio to listen for a weather
report. The radio announcer dutifully informed Mulder of only a slight
chance of rain, sometime after midnight. Sighing with relief, Mulder
turned off the radio and returned his attention to the map he had
conveniently printed from the website, last night.
Suddenly a jarring ring jolted him back to reality. Mulder cursed, as
he snatched the ever present cell phone from his belt, "Mulder."
"I thought you were home sick with a fever and headache," questioned
the ever vigilant Skinner.
"Uh...well," Mulder stalled, "I didn't have any aspirin in my apartment.
I'm at the pharmacy, right now. I'm going straight home from here,
Walter....and straight back to bed."
Skinner snorted, "See that you do. I'll be calling back later to check on you."
Angrily stuffing the phone back onto his belt, Mulder mimicked Skinner's
surly tone before returning to his map, "I'll be calling back to check on you!"
Easing onto the rutted lane, Mulder navigated carefully avoiding axle
busting potholes and low hanging tree limbs. A stand of ancient willows
lined each side of the narrow road, their branches meeting in the middle
to form a leafy canopy. The effect was lovely, yet claustrophobic as dusk
rapidly descended. Mulder switched on the headlights as an added precaution.
Rounding a wide curve, Mulder caught his breath at his first glimpse of Willow House.
Tall, dark and foreboding, the cut stone exterior and slate roof gave the
impression of invulnerability. Willow House reminded Mulder of a story
book castle. He chuckled softly and hoped there were no dragons or trolls
living in the moat.
As Mulder parked in the circle drive, he recalled the story he'd read about
the ill-fated couple who had originally built Willow House...
1940...
Wilhelm Ruprecht, had spent his youth amassing a fortune. At the
age of sixty, he took eighteen year old Lily DuBonnette as his bride.
Wilhelm arranged for the construction of Willow House, while he and
his lovely new wife toured the Continent for their honeymoon.
All went well at first. Lily was thrilled with her new status as lady of
the house. She spent untold thousands of Wilhelm's hard earned dollars,
furnishing her new home. She threw lavish parties and entertained her friends
and family like royalty.
Eventually, Ruprecht returned to his offices, neglecting his young bride.
Lily became bored, as any eighteen year old girl would, and soon began
looking for new forms of stimulation.
Tom Dressen, Ruprecht's handsome young personal assistant, soon
became Lily's newest past time. The young couple shared many stolen
moments together, under the drooping willows. As their passion grew,
they became less cautious.
Ruprecht became suspicious. He lied to his unsuspecting young wife,
telling Lily he was leaving town on business and would be gone the
better part of a week.
Lily wasted no time contacting Tom Dressen with the good news.
On the day of his departure, Wilhelm loaded baggage into his car,
promising Lily he would return as soon as possible. He then drove
away. Instead of leaving town, as he'd told Lily, Ruprecht circled back
and parked the car in a remote wooded area behind Willow House.
He waited in silence to discover if his wife and trusted employee were
betraying him.
Near dusk, Tom Dressen arrived at Willow House. He met Lily and
embraced her passionately beneath the spreading limbs of a willow tree.
This scene drove a well concealed Wilhelm Ruprecht into a jealous rage.
Reaching into the glove compartment, Ruprecht removed the hunting knife
he'd hidden there, before leaving on his fictional business trip. He waited
impatiently for the unsuspecting couple to steal unnoticed, back into
Willow House, before following them silently.
Stalking softly up the grand staircase, Ruprecht burst into the master
bedroom to find his Lily sprawled naked on the bed, laughing at her lover.
Tom was trying to take off his trousers and had managed to become
tangled in one pant leg.
Howling out his grief and rage, Wilhelm flung himself onto the bed,
plunging the knife deep into his wife's breast, killing her instantly.
Wheeling on Dressen, Ruprecht heaped accusations and abuse on
his formerly favored employee. Holding the knife against the younger
man's throat, Wilhelm informed the terrified Dressen that he would suffer
a slow and painful death, as punishment for his betrayal.
Using the bloody knife to rip strips of material from his wife's discarded
dress, Ruprecht used the cloth to tie Dressen's wrists and ankles to the
bedposts, so the horrified man was bound securely beside the rapidly
cooling body of his slain lover.
Bolting the bedroom door, Wilhelm stripped off his suit jacket, and
picked up the hunting knife. Without remorse, he proceeded to skin the
helpless young man alive. Despite the anguished howls and pleas for mercy,
Ruprecht completed his grisly task, throwing the bloody knife onto the bed.
Not even bothering to wipe the gore from his hands and face, Ruprecht exited
Willow House for the last time and drove straight to the county sheriff's office
to confessed his crime. He was taken into custody and charged with two
counts of murder.
When the deputies arrived at Willow House, they discovered Lily's body
amidst the carnage, but no sign of Tom Dressen or the hunting knife.
Wilhelm was convicted and hanged for the murder of his wife, Lilly
DuBonnette Ruprecht. Without Dressen's body, there could be no second
murder charge.
Since that fateful night, sixty years ago, Willow House has been
occupied solely by the spectre of Skinned Tom. Not even the bravest
explorers have lasted longer than a single night.
Mulder shuddered, as the sun sank lower into the horizon. He removed his
satchel from the trunk, as quietly as possible. He could not shake the feeling
that the house was watching him.
Giving the building a wide berth, Mulder followed the path around to the back
lawn. The gardens were woefully overgrown, but its former beauty was easily
imagined.
Spying movement to his left, Mulder whirled around to find absolutely
nothing. Laughing at himself, for letting the ghost story spook him, Mulder
forced open the servants door and entered Willow House.
End of Part 1