Title: All That Serial Killers Are Made Of Author: tyger 1013 Class: VA Rating: R Spoilers: none Keywords: MulderTorture Archive: Yes, just keep my name attached and don't change anything Feedback: tyger1013@yahoo.com Thanks to Darkstryder and Ashlea Ensro for looking it over for me. Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully and Skinner belong to Fox and Ten Thirteen Productions. Used without permission. I will never make any money off of this story! Summary: Despite Mulder's background and his tendency to get lost in the minds of killers, he has never lost his mind and become murderous...until now. Introduction: This story began when I noticed that I had never come across a fanfic where Mulder actually loses his mind and turns serial killer. His background is worse than that of most murderers and we know he can get lost in their heads so easily, so I found it strange that I haven't seen a story like this before. So I felt obliged to write! HELPFUL NOTE!: This story is written in the stream-of-consciousness style, a way of writing that can be very jarring if you've never encountered it before. It gets confusing, but just go with it. You'll figure it out well enough. Don't worry: I haven't lost my mind and neither have you (although Mulder has!) : it's not meant to be understood completely anyway. It's * supposed * to be confusing, twisted and disturbing! Have fun! Heh heh heh.... "ALL THAT SERIAL KILLERS ARE MADE OF" Burning frogs, squashed up snails and chopped off puppy dog tails, I'm all that serial killers are made of. I always thought that I was above it. Even though I had a more disturbing background than many of the killers I profiled, I thought somehow I was better than them, less corrupted by my past. I believed that delusion until the moment I found myself kneeling over the mutilated body of a twelve year-old boy, his blood and life fluids soaking my hands. Five Days Earlier Monday, April 19 I jump when I feel Scully's hand touch my arm. "Mulder?" she asks. "Mulder, you weren't answering me." Her face forms the worried look between her eyes that informs me that I have just zoned out on her. "Sorry," I say, hearing the apology come out more quietly than I intended. I repeat the word in case she hasn't heard it. "You okay?" "Yeah," I lie. "I just haven't been sleeping well." Well, that part is true; I haven't been sleeping much. But I'm not okay. Her touch interrupted a quite disturbing daydream. One of the many that have plagued my mind this week. She finally leaves me alone and soon after, my mind returns to its frightening imaginings. It was night and I am in some strangely familiar place. A dark-haired boy on the floor in front of me. Rope and sweat and blood on his face. You deserve to die and holding a knife to his throat. His tears and fright filling an empty hole in my soul and Please please don't hurt me anymore. Me on top of him and his fear-breath puffing hot on my neck. The knife shiny and "I said, do you want to grab some dinner with me?" It's Scully again, and my muddled brain clears quickly as stared back at her. "Okay." After dinner, I drive us back to the office for Scully to get her car, when there are horns and flashing lights and Sculy's "Mulder!" in my ear. I swerve instantly out of the lane of oncoming traffic that I was just driving in. "Jesus Mulder! Pull over right now." Her voice is stern and punishing. "Mulder..." She's scared. Not just the adrenaline-pumped, brush-with-death fear, but scared for my sanity. I'm scared for my sanity. She knows that right now I won't listen to a lecture anyway and that she just needs to get me home. Taking over the wheel, she drives me back to my apartment. When she gets me upstairs, she follows me into my apartment and sits me down on the couch. "Mulder, what's wrong?" she asks me, her words looking so soft, just like pink spun-glass insulation looks so inviting before it cuts you and makes you bleed. She must have noticed some sign of the snap inside me like my lip quivering or my eyes pulling closed in pain because all of a sudden I'm pouring tears all over her blue linen blouse and her breast is warm and her hands are silk in my hair. I can't hear her words but I can feel them cool tender mist surrounding me and drowning out everything im scared Scully im losing my mind youre okay mulder youre okay im not i cant stop it stop what falling and falling and where am i? dark and cold and scullys not here blood and dirt and puke my puke? or the boys i cant tell my hands strangling and breaking his arm and Mulder? Mulder? what why arent you answering me just let me go to sleep scully sleep please _*_*_*_*_*_*_* Tuesday, April 20th I wake up feeling much better, even hoping that yesterday's bizarre events never happened. But then I can smell Scully on my clothes and I know that it was real. She had left sometime: night or morning I'm not sure. Swinging my feet onto the floor, I sit up and begin to get ready for work. Luckily, my mind remains normal throughout the morning. But the plane ride to Maine makes me tired and there was nothing to do when Scully falls asleep. I rip the boy's shirt off and throw him to the floor. Don't need rope this time he's too scared to try escaping. Lash him hard with the belt and make him bleed bleed. Crying and pleading wailing. It should have been you youre a piece of shit coward who cant protect his sister. Screams and Please stop hurting me no you have to suffer you have to because then shell come back you lost her who please stop youre hurting me you have to hurt his cries soothe the burning inside me feels so good and i never "-and we'll be landing in five minutes." The captain is informing us of the plane's final descent. Scully's sleepy eyes open and after she awakes she eyes me suspiciously. However, she holds any comments that she wants to make until we arrive at our hotel. As I stretch out on my back atop the bed, she sits beside me and looks down at me with firm eyes. "Mulder, you have to tell me what's wrong." I pause a moment. "I don't know what you're talking about." She doesn't buy that and is soon giving me a This-Is-For-Your-Own-Good look. "Yes you do. Do you remember last night, what you said?" I look away as a pain rips through my chest. She reaches with a gentle hand and pulls my head back around to face her. Nono Scully. Everything blurring and little lights outside the window smearing sparkling like Christmas lights a long time ago before I was changed hopelessly forever. Mulder? Everything black now but Scullys hand on my chest trying to stop the pain that was coming out of the hole there. The red and yellow and bright orange goo leaking out between her fingers and she cant stop it mulder tell me tell me whats hurting you im losing my mind scully i cant fingers moving from my chest to my hair dropping multicolored pain-goo onto my face fingers soothing cool in my hair im scared scully pulled into her lap holding me hand on my forehead mulder tell me what it is whats wrong scully everythings all wrong everything went bad and i cant stop it i thought i could i know i cant mulder youre not making sense sweetheart sweetheart that word makes me sob her tenderness is so soothing something i never had growing up back when everything happened thats making me do this scully i dont understand its not i dont please scully soft kiss on my ear and sobbing again scully holding me tight to her arms wrapped hard around my belly and watching the goo leaking out of the rip in my chest looking like red and yellow orange fingerpaint oozing its all right well get you better i promise mulder well go home in the morning just shhhhhhhazy skies around me breeze in my face tousling my hair someone rocking me and lulling bad thoughts away and sleeeeep _*_*_*_*_*_*_* Wednesday, April 21 Scully takes me home the next day. Takes me home to her house and won't let me out of her sight. She picks up the phone and retreats into her bedroom and then I know she's calling Skinner to tell him that Spooky has finally lost it. Several minutes later she returns, handing me the phone. "Skinner wants to talk to you." I roll my eyes, trying to lighten the mood, and reluctantly put the receiver to my ear. "Hello, sir." Gruff noises come from the other end of the line before Skinner begins. "Agent Mulder...Scully has told me how strangely you've been acting. Do you have any explanation for your behaviour?" I clench my teeth in concentration before answering. "Sir, I..." I try to offer up one of my trademark candy covered bullshit explanations...but I just can't. Can't defend this. "No, sir. I don't." A surprised Skinner is silent a moment before releasing a strained sigh. "Mulder, your being in this kind of condition is dangerous for both you and Agent Scully, do you realise that?" "Yes, sir," I whisper. "I'm setting up an appointment for you to see a bureau psychiatrist as soon as possible. Scully will fill you in. You are to go to that appointment, Agent Mulder. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir." I turn off the phone and look up into Scully's grim face. "Let me fix you some dinner," she says as she wanders off into the kitchen. Later, she returns to drag me to the table for dinner. I'm picking at my food when I finally ask her what is up with the psychiatrist. She stares at me nervously and tells me, "You have an appointment at ten Friday morning with Dr. Michaels. Now before you protest, hear me out. You're scaring me, Mulder. I've never seen you like this--" "I know. I'll go," I interrupt her. She looks at me as if I had just told her I was closing the X-Files..She tried to speak, but no words came out, and she just stares at me, probably wondering about how bad I must be if I actually agreed that I needed a shrink. "I'm sorry for scaring you, Scully. I...I need to see someone. Things are...not right." That statement gets me a quizzical look , and she finally speaks again. "Mulder, what's going on?" I sit twirling my fork for a moment. I can't tell her this. Not that I'm having fantasies about killing boys and I can't control it. Not this. "I can't tell you." And she bites her lip before returning to her meal. "Okay. I'm here, though," she says, chasing a pea around her plate. _*_*_*_*_*_* Friday, April 23 Dr. Michaels invites me into her office and I sit down across from her desk while she asks probing questions that, at any other point in my life, I would lie about. But not now. I'm scaring myself too much. Family history. Any mental illness in your family? I'm not sure. Dad was an alcoholic, Mom...she was always out of it on Valium. But I'd say they were troubled. I see here that your sister disappeared when you were twelve gone gone shes gone and shell never come back because of me Yes that happened Any other family trauma face red hot hot blood rushing to my ears making my head hurt cant breathe not going to answer this question not going to Agent Mulder she asks still cant answer cant breathe Was there any abuse going on oh no cant tell her she wont believe me shell think im nuts god i hate him damn i have to be honest because im scaring myself Yes i whisper who was the abuser oh god My father i say anyone else no who did he abuse deep breath Sam and and and uh me more questions questions I don't want to answer then she asks me whats happening to me now i i think im losing my mind what makes you think that cant tell her they're going to put me away but i dont want to do what ive been thinking about I uh ive been having strange fantasies that i cant control what kind of fantasies god im so sick theyre going to put me away forever but i have to tell About murdering little boys i say watching her to see what she thinks she pauses and takes a deep breath how do you mean you cant control them when one comes i cant stop thinking about it and it feels so good it scares me more questions and i want to get out of here run run home and hide hide hide the orange of her dress screaming at me wont shut up and i want to go home do you think you will act on these fantasies god i cant tell her because theyll lock me up and ill never be in the fbi again ill just wait and maybe she can help and just fix me please No i say and the orange it wont stop screaming but finally she sends me on my way and says to come back monday and i will i just want them to fix me i walk on institutional blue carpet thats so cold it freezes through my shoes and up my legs and my legs cramp and i cant walk and i sit down in the hallway a long time before i come back from where ive been and get up and go home _*_*_*_*_*_*_* Scully drops by my apartment later. She doesn't push me to tell her what was going on. Things are getting too bad and I want her to help me. But I don't want her to know. Finally, "Scully, we need to talk." staring at me with that penetrating gaze so penetrating but she still cant see the sickness inside of me What is it mulder Oh scully i'm not what you think i am anymore im not her hand touches my arm and i jerk away cant she see the disease thats crawling all over me eating its way inside cant she see it such a putrid green slimyness munching through me shes going to catch it if she touches me like that Scully scully im having really fucked up thoughts like what she asks so casually she probably is thinking im just being my spooky self but if she only knew scully scully ive finally lost it scully im having frightening fantasies god ive been in the minds of too many murderers silence from her shes scared but she doesnt quite get it she thinks im just feeling guilty like i always do but she doesnt get it she just doesnt get it Help me scully shes confused sad scared Mulder she says so softly so gently it makes me want to fall asleep right here just fall asleep and wake up and all of this will be gone Tell me whats wrong so i can help I think its too late scully i think its too late i mutter over and over hoping the rhythm will take away this awful thing inside of me eating a dangerous hole in my gut that can only be filled with the pain and begging and screaming of a boy that i need to find i need to find! scully just go home youre tired and im tired and this will all make sense in the morning ill be okay thanks for listening mulder ill be okay scully its been a long week i just need to rest its late okay she agrees warily keeping an eye on me looking i shut the door behind her breathe in a chest full of ice cold frost air that comes from nowhere and everywhere _*_*_*_*_*_*_* I did it. And he's dead im covered in warm stickiness and it feels like heaven finally for one brief minute one wonderful perfect moment finally finally wait where did it go its gone its gone! its gone and hes dead just a boy and i killed him and the feeling its gone and i need that back oh god i killed him oh god phone phone in my pocket reaching for it its so hard and cold not like the soothing warmth that covers me and ive got to stop myself dial and hold the phone to my ear and watch a droplet of left over crimson heaven fall from my hair and onto his dead body Scully? scully come help me please please im sorry scully im sorry The End Please send me feedback! tyger1013@yahoo.com