by jordan
I:An Introduction to the Witch
Memphis, Tennessee
St.Teresa's Hospital, Oct 18, 2:15pm
Sometimes the only thing the dead have left is the poetry of their bones. The exquisite architecture of the human form, speaking of the potential for grace and motion. The basic plot of the human story outlined in perfect detail, awaiting only the right person to come along and decipher its meaning.
Dana Scully ran her finger down the collarbone of the skeleton on the stainless steel lab table. Her touch was oddly tender, and the forensic pathologist, Thomas Hagen, felt a twinge at its sensuality.
He cleared his throat. "You're good at this, Dana," he said. "You should come to work for us."
She glanced up at him, her blue eyes a little surprised, a little distracted. "I do mostly field work these days," she said.
"Too restless for the CDC?" His tone was only half joking. "Hey, we can live on the edge just like you guys in the FBI."
Scully had come to Memphis to investigate the bizarre deaths of three teenagers who had all been consumed by something described as a flesh-eating bacteria, something so intensely virulent that by the time she saw the remains they were no more than polished bones partially digested by whatever had attacked the living organism. The most curious thing about the case was that nothing else had come of it; the teenagers, two boys and a girl, were dead, and there had been no more reports of necrotic diseases at their school or among their families. All that was left was this anomaly, a fourth body found in the woods not far from the three dead highschoolers, the skeleton of an unidentified female, twelve to fourteen years old, at casual inspection, no apparent cause of death.
"Look at this," Hagen said, pushing his thumb and forefinger into the skull's fixed grin. He teased the mouth open, so that Scully could see the rows of perfect teeth. "This kid had canines so sharp they might have been--ow!--filed."
He raised his hand, several bright drops of blood almost glowing red under the fluorescent lights. Scully murmured her concern and took his hand, peeling off his latex glove. She led him unprotesting to the sink and turned on the tap, holding the index finger under the water as she examined the tiny slice on his fingertip.
"What happened?"
"Damn kid bit me," he growled, in mock outrage.
Scully smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling for the briefest of seconds. Hagen made no pretense of not enjoying her ministrations. If a hurt puppy paw worked, well, he was not above using pity to get to her.
"My point was, no dental records to identify her with," he said. "Perfect dentition."
"Have the police gone back and searched the records for missing children in this area?"
"I assume they have. We were just holding the remains until we checked to see if the same thing killed her that killed those other kids, but apparently not. I mean, this skeleton is much, much older than the others, and as you can see, there aren't any grooves or marks in the bones like in the teenagers.'"
"How can that be, if it was only buried--" Scully paused to consult her chart, her brow rising skeptically "--under some leaves all these years?"
Hagen shrugged. She let him go, and he dried his hands, watching as she brushed back a strand of red hair from her face that he had briefly fantasized about pushing back for her. He dropped his eyes, embarrassed to be caught staring.
He tried to think of something to say, and gestured towards the portfolio she had left on the lab table. "What exactly is an X file?" he asked. Actually, he had a vague idea, but anything to keep her talking, to engage this slight, serious, lovely woman with the startling blue eyes in a few more moments of conversation. There was just something about her that made him want to gather her up in his arms and be protective. A sadness, a loneliness. And the push of those breasts against her lab jacket was a fair argument for getting close to her in and of itself.
"I investigate paranormal activity," she told him.
"You mean like, what? Ghosts and UFOs and things like that?"
He could hear the faint smile in her voice, though it barely touched her face. "Something like that, yes."
"Do you think you'll pursue this case?"
"I don't pursue cases," she said. "I just collect data."
"To what end?"
She seemed about to answer when the chirping of her cell phone cut her off. "Excuse me," she said, moving towards the big double doors at the exit of the autopsy bay.
****
Alone, Scully took a deep breath and tried to clear her head. She rarely got cell phone calls these days, and there was always a pang when she felt that familiar vibration. She had checked in with the branch office when she arrived in town; they were the only people who knew where she would be.
But surprisingy, it was one of the Lone Gunmen. "Scully? Scully, it's me, Byers."
"Yes," she said. She leaned against the cold tile wall in the hallway of the hospital basement, letting the chill seep into her bones like the same chill of premonition into her soul. "What is it? Has something happened?"
"Yeah, something's happened," he said. There was a tremble in his voice. "They're letting Mulder go. Today. Right now."
*****
A few minutes later, Hagen came out into the hall, holding Scully's forgotten portfolio. He saw the swinging double doors at the end of the hall, and heard the faint clicking of heels on linoleum.
It sounded like she was running.