"It's that cat again! I'll get it this time!!"

As the owner of the voice charged down the dirt driveway, a yowl tore from the cat. A flame of pure fire rose into the night, and soon there was nothing left but a pile of smoldering catflesh. The person retreated into the house.

Suddenly, eerie music filled the air, coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

"Doo doo dee doo dee doo. Doo doo dee doo dee doo. Dee dee doo dee dee doo. Doo doo dee doo dee doo. Dee doo. Dee doo. Bum!"

"Now that hasn't ever happened before!" said the person with a shrug. But the screen door banged shut, the bats the only other witnesses.


"Hey, look at this," said FBI agent Fox Mulder to his partner, Dana Scully, as he handed her a bunch of photographs. "What does this look like?"

"It looks like some burned vegetation... and a dead cat."

"Right you are. But what do you think could have caused it?"

Dana Scully studied the photographs. "Nothing short of a flamethrower, as far as I can tell. It's not like large swaths have been burnt, as in a brushfire, but I don't think lightning could have done this either. See here, just a couple of flowers in this flowerbed have been singed, and there is a very distinct arc burnt into this lawn."

"OK, so it's not natural. Do you see any human motive?"

"These are just random people's yards in a quiet neighborhood? I can't say anything definite without further information, but I'd guess, no. Mulder, where is all of this leading?"

"About three weeks ago," Mulder stated, "Strange burn marks started appearing all over a quiet neighborhood in North Carolina. They occur at night or late evening in particular..."

"You think it's aliens, don't you, Mulder."

"That's right. It seems a likely place: a quiet neighborhood, no real cities nearby, dark at night without any streetlamps. Like you said yourself, the cause does not appear to be natural, and there does not appear to be any human motive."

"We can't be sure of that, Mulder. More information, investigation is needed."

"Whatever it is, it falls under the category of X-file, and that's for us! A plane leaves for Raleigh in under three hours," said Mulder, and then with a smile, "And even if it isn't the work of extra terrestrials, we'll find out what's terrorizing these old ladies' flowerbeds."


The agents had parked their car further up the dusty street, prepared to walk from house to house to question the people that lived there on the strange burnings. But the first person they encountered had her head stuck in a storm drain.

"Do you need any help?" Mulder asked.

The voice echoing out of the stormdrain replied,

"No, I've got it. I'm just cleaning out the junk in here. And I don't think two would fit." The girl, not yet old enough to drive a car, pulled herself out of the drain, along with a number of aluminum cans.

"Oh, hello. Just trying to earn some community service hours, for school, you know." Her head was back in the stormdrain.
Mulder knelt down. "Do you think you could show us what you find when you're done?"

"Why would you care?"

"We're here to investigate the burnings, and anything you find might help."

"Well, OK then." And so the agents resumed their path down the street, to interview.


"Well, sure, but I suspect it's just some kids making trouble... Who knows? Do kids today need a reason?"


"I don't know, but they took two of my cats, two of them! I've got less than ten of the little dearies left. And you saw what... what IT did to my begonias out front!"


"It's an act of hate, fire always is! They even burned a cross into my lawn! Well, it's not quite a cross, but almost, see that bit there? Well, it kinda is, sorta, well, yeah."


"There was one two nights ago, down the street I heard, and two further up last week, was it Tuesday? Yeah, Tuesday. And one the day after that. And one right next door last Sunday, and..."


"I don't know and I don't care! Good-bye!!"


And so, an hour and a half later, the agents had conducted all of their interviews. They had a lot of ideas and theories swimming around in their brains, a lot of miscellaneous fact that made no sense by themselves, but would, when put together, they hoped. They were walking back to their car when they remembered the girl and the gutter.

The storm drain had the dust removed, and had been painted. The green stenciled letters, "DON'T DUMP Yugunis Sound Drainage" stood out from the beige background. Neat WET PAINT signs adorned it. Just beside it were two neat piles of trash, which Mulder kneeled beside. He pulled off the small note that was on top, handing it to Scully as he began sorting through the trash. Scully read:


"'Here you go, hope it helps. If you must know, I also found a dead cat, probably drowned in there after last week's storm. I buried it, I hope you don't mind. Please recycle this pile, and throw everything else away. Thank you.'"


Mulder pawed through the aluminum cans and plastic bottles, the candy wrappers and unwanted fliers, reading whatever was legible. There was nothing out of the ordinary, until he made out the label on a plastic bottle. He turned to Scully and raised his eyebrows, in surprise and speculation. Scully stooped beside him, and read the label.

"'NAPALM: gelatinized gasoline for your flame-weapon.'Hmm... Mulder, how much do you know about flamethrowers?"



Proceed onto Part II.
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