"Phantom Shadows"

Round-3, Part-4

>>>"Ah the basement. That’s where we will go. Now what’s this?" He said, looking at the sturdy padlock Skinner had used on the cellar door. He placed his gun directly on the lock and shot it off. He flung open the cellar door, flipped on the light and carried Mulder down....>>>

^*

"No!" Screamed Fox, struggling for all he was worth; no way did he want enter that dreaded cellar. The agent knew what had gone on down there before Skinner had bought the majestic home. In fact, he knew every grisly detail of the atrocities committed in the dank cellar intimately. Generally, Mulder wasn’t squeamish about such places, but in this case, things were different. This time the crime scene was personal. Knowing what Gideon Gregor had done to all of those poor women and knowing that his lover’s beautiful home was haunted only amplified his fears of the cold, dark space.

"NONONONONONONONO....." Fox yelled over and over again. He launched his powerful legs - cuffed ankles not hindering him at all-and caught the smoking man in the stomach with two good knee-kicks before Spender could grab the chain between the locked ankles and hold them still.

Spender grunted when the bony knees made contact. His son’s kicks had hurt him, but not as bad as if he was just plain human again. To Spender’s chagrin, it was the less superior human’s fighting and wriggling around that proved to be nuisance enough for him to have to stop mid-way during his descent in order for him to regain control over the 190 pound squirming package.

As soon as Spender stopped, Mulder switched tactics. This time, he used his teeth as a weapon and gnashed at Spender’s, now handsome face.

Frustrated, the formerly old man still smiled, his son was inventive at least.

At that point, Fox’s thrashings almost sent them both tumbling down the steep set of rickety wooden stairs. Having had enough of his son’s suddenly un-amusing antics, Spender took back control of the situation.

"This hurts me more than you." He said, wrapping his fingers around his son’s delicate throat.

The smoker deftly placed his thumb and ring finger over special spots on the throat column and squeezed. With in seconds, Mulder was safely rendered unconscious. Spender adjusted his son on his shoulder then continued on his way. At the bottom of the stairs, the smoker paused and looked over his surroundings. It didn’t matter that the two dim bulbs barely lit the immediate area around where they shone, his eyesight was perfect. The greys, along with all their other incredible improvements, had given him the ability to see in poor lighting; his eyes worked like a night scope in the dark. As Spender studied his surroundings he absently stroked Fox’s well-rounded ass with his left hand; his right balanced his son on his shoulder.

"So, here I am again," said Sam in Spender’s low voice. "Last time I tried women. This time I think I’ll give the men a whirl." Spender’s mind easily accepted the spirit’s presence.

Sam, clever from so many years of practice, manipulated his ‘host’ subtly. So delicately, that Spender didn’t even realise that he had a cerebral invader. In fact, Sam let Spender do what came naturally to him, and the entity soaked up the knowledge of what two men could do in bed with one another. The entity was elated; he had one of his *people* back with him. It did not matter that his new toy had a mind that could not be penetrated. He was not limited to just one skill; had other ways of tormenting the beautiful agent. Now he could not wait until Spender returned with the delectable Alex, he meant to have all the fun he could with him too. The practised ghost eased himself further back into the recesses of the smoking man’s grey matter. Allowing the virile man to do what he wanted. The minute Spender attempted to try something that Sam didn’t approve of, the ethereal entity would take control again. But for now, Sam would sit back, rejuvenate his essence and discover the contents of the changed man’s brain.

~0~

Spender laid out his eldest son then he squatted down on his haunches next to him. The motion was gracefully, fluid and again, the *old* man couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be given this second chance before dying. His legs and thighs felt powerful and Spender felt that he could stay in this position all day.

//Fox. I’ve finally got my Fox. //

After all of these years, the smoker was finally going to lay his hands on his eldest son. First Spender undid the unconscious man’s ankle cuffs then he untied his hands. In a rare act of empathy, he massaged Mulder’s abraded wrists. The dim light did very little in the way of actually lighting up the freezing, stone basement, but it didn’t matter, Sam merely *whispered* to his host where everything was located. Again, the ghost did this so subtly that the smoking man never bothered to ask himself how he knew the layout of a house he’d never been in before.

Knowing that Fox would soon wake; Spender quickly undressed him, taking a moment to savour the feel of his son’s smooth skin against his sensitive palm. Next, Spender cupped Fox’s butt cheek tenderly, like a man might do to his newly born babe, only this wasn’t an innocent gesture.

As quickly as his paternal feelings had flared within him, they abandoned him; to his perverted delight.

Spender already knew that he would not commit the same humiliating acts upon his progeny that he had against his slut lover. Alex Krycek was born a whore and should be treated as so. But his son, well, that what was an entirely different story; Fox was a prince, he would fare so much better.

//Okay.// Thought Sam. //I’ll give you your own way on that old man. //

While his host plotted, Sam went through the changed man’s brain one section at a time, ethereally vivisecting him. The spirit was very pleased with itself when he discovered the reason why he could not get inside of Mulder. It had nothing to do with Sam at all. It was because he had been changed, he was still fully human, but Mulder had function and control over parts of his brain that others did not. These parts were triggered by some Alien artefacts and by the fact that he had been infected with the black oil, several years previous.

The oil was the ‘switch’ and the artefact, had turned it on.

Now Sam did not understand what ‘black oil’ was or ‘aliens’. But he knew that these were the reasons, and nothing he did would be able to change that. Fox Mulder, unlike any other captive that had had the misfortune to find himself or herself in his basement prison, had the ability to kill him.

Really kill him.

That made this particular man more dangerous than any other; also the most fascinating. Everything that Sam gleaned everything he could about the agent and added it the information he had taken from the other three; whose minds he had taken over for the short time they were in the house.

Spender deftly plucked his son up and tossed him over his shoulder; like the fully-grown man weighed ninety pounds not an hundred and ninety. With Fox nestled softly in his strong arms Spender senior moved him to the same part of the cellar where Gideon had chained his female captives to the stone walls. Spender never bothered to question why there was a pair of heavy metal handcuffs attached to a thick eyebolt mounted in the thick granite. One end of the cuffs dangled free; the changed man quickly locked Fox’s right wrist into the steal bracelet. A coarse, wool blanket surfaced out of nowhere, and Spender, un-surprised by it’s appearance placed it under his son.

Sam chuckled, over the years he had learned that his *pets* survived a little bit longer if they had some protection against the cold; which was why he made a blanket appear.

Surrounded by cold stone emanating an icy chill, Fox started to rouse from his forced slumber. His head lolled to the side as consciousness slowly returned. Spender sat back and watched as his beautiful son woke up.

Cold. Incredible cold, knifing right through him.

Fox was so cold that he burned.

Finally his hazel eyes shuttered open and the first thing the agent saw when he could focus was his father hunkered down across from him, hiding amongst the dim shadows. Not only could Fox see his sire, but he could also see that the man was naked. Mulder looked down at his own form, and discovered that he too, had no clothes on. Now he knew why he was freezing. The agent couldn’t believe the changes that had happened to the man who was his biological father. The aliens knew their stuff; Mulder had to give the little Grays that much. Spender Senior’s resemblance to his younger child was uncanny and if Alex hadn’t already informed him of the incredible morph job, he would never have guessed that the buff young man before him was his cancer-riddled father.

"So... Alex wasn’t yanking my chain. You’ve changed...Dad...." Stated Mulder sarcastically. His dry humour coming through, even in times of peril.

Spender laughed out loud. He loved Fox’s dark sense of humour, which never failed to make an appearance. That particular trait, the boy had inherited from his mother. Jeffery, like him, rarely saw the joke in anything.

"Oh Fox." Clucked Spender. "Always the comedian. It’s nice to see taking up with that whore Krycek has ruined you...."

"Shut up." Demanded Mulder. "You don’t know the first thing about Alex...."

The smoker moved in closer to his boy and smiled evilly at him. "Oh, but you see, I *do* know everything about that slut. It’s you who knows nothing of what he was...what he used to do.... sexually for the members of the syndicate...." The man laughed sharply before reigning in his mirth.

"I know him better than you think. Him and I are about more than just sex." Mulder said the words with conviction. He knew full well that there were secrets, dark, evil things that had happened to Alex that the Russian had never told him. After this, they were definitely going to have to sit down and work on their relationship.

In the span of twenty-four hours, everything they had had together had gone for shit.

Fox planned on making up his betrayal to Alex anyway he could. First though, he was going to have to find a way out of this basement and this whole mess with his father. The agent shivered, now he knew what his lover had felt like in the clutches of this deranged, alien changed man. Fox only hoped that he would not end up whipped and bent over a padded sawhorse...

Spender caressed Mulder’s strong calf muscle, making Mulder flinch and lose his thoughts of Alex. "Hands off pops!" He snapped.

But the smoker defiantly kept rubbing his hand over Fox’s lean leg, slowly inching upward, toward one bare thigh.

Mulder tried to kick his father’s hand away, but the man was just too strong to be unsurped.

Tired of fighting, the smoker clung to his son’s ankle with one iron fist and with the other he wrapped it around Fox’s tender throat. He squeezed until the FBI agent ceased his fighting. "Down here," Spender menaced. "You do things my way..." he constricted his fist ever so slightly and again, Mulder found himself struggling for oxygen and trying to fend of the greying edges of unconsciousness. The smoker smiled cruelly. "I want you son and I’m going to have you." He drew in close to Fox and got his face right into his son’s. "Don’t worry, I won’t do the same things to you as I did to that pretty bitch, lover of yours."

Mulder blanched, the cancer man’s breath stank like stale cigarettes and whatever it was that he had eaten earlier; Fox would have guessed rancid meat.

Sam floated easily out of Spender’s mind; he now knew everything that the man had done to the one named Alex and the apparition approved heartily; Spender Senior was his star pupil. Sam thought it very fortunate that the man was already pre-disposed to violence and pain. Gideon Gregor had to be *convinced* that he was corrupt. Sam couldn’t wait to watch Spender perform on Mulder; the view was best from the ceiling.

Unaware that his invader had left his body, Spender continued his assault on Fox.

A few small drops of moisture escaped Fox’s eyes; they were not tears of sorrow however but ones of anger. It pissed him off to be reminded again, that his bastard father had stolen Alex, beaten, raped and worse by far for his proud Russian lover, humiliated him. And to add insult to injury, video taped the whole ugly incident.

Mulder flushed red, when he recalled how betrayed his lover had felt when he found Fox and Skinner had gone against his wishes and were going to watch the damn tape anyway.

All this was Spender’s fault. His unnatural need to control, to own, had been the root to his and Alex’s problems.... His father kissed his lips, and Mulder quickly buried his thoughts of his lover. Spender’s hold rendered Fox unable to move; the agent hated being in such a vulnerable position. All Mulder could do was watch through horror filled eyes as his own biological father straddled his waist.

His erection was large and looming and his blood-engorged cock was the largest Fox had ever seen.

No wonder Alex had been torn up afterwards. Mulder couldn’t even imagine that bulbous head, massive and dripping, entering any part of his body. It disgusted him to think that the most enormous cock he’d ever gazed upon belonged to his father. At any rate, if the cancer man wanted to rape him, it would certainly be easy enough. The man who looked like Jeffery Spender, could do anything he wanted too, his unnatural strength made it easy for him to do so.

Fortunately for Fox, Spender needed immediate relief and it would take too much time to try and prepare his victim for penetrating sex. So, instead, the smoker straddled his son’s lap and trapped him in place below his strong thighs. He took up both of their cocks in one hand and rubbed the liquid seeping from the tip of his own large head over both.

Mulder’s penis started out soft, but eventually, his father’s expert hand made him rise. The agent was humiliated by his body’s betrayal. Worse, he couldn’t even turn his face away in shame; the old man was forcing him to look into his eyes.

And in those brown depths, Fox saw nothing but insanity.

Spender’s connection to other human beings was no longer attached. The agent could see that now, the smoker held no compromise or empathy or any other normal human emotion.

The former consortium hound was lost to the human race for good.

An unwilling hitchhiker, all Mulder could do now was go along for the ride that his father was taking him on.

Both erections wrapped tightly with in the smoker’s fist, slicked over one another the friction sent each participant closer to the precipice. "Can you feel the power?" Husked Spender, not expecting an answer considering that he still maintained a chokehold on his son. Actually, he was trying to enhance Fox’s excitement, rather than trying to render him unconscious. "I’m going to cum Fox..." He said right after. "You’re going to cum with me." And true to his declaration, he squeezed both of his working hands even tighter and the pressure of each, sent both men over the edge.

Mulder rasped, "No." Trying to deny the inevitable. He didn’t even want to believe that he had a hard-on let alone was going to orgasm on his nemesis' command. But, cum he did, between being jerked off and his air cut off, the FBI agent did as *father* commanded. His juice erupted, flowing straight up, like an angry volcano, and landed over the back of the smoker’s hand and on his own chest. Spender’s eyes widened with excitement, then for a brief second the lids closed, and Mulder could pretend that it was his half brother that had just assaulted him and not that cancerous old bastard. Spender’s eyes shot open as his ejaculate came spurting out. He intentionally sprayed Fox’s torso and face.

The changed man released his captive’s throat and crawled off of his lap. He stood and smiled; watching amused, as Mulder, horrified to be wearing a pearl necklace, scrubbed the offending residue off of his face.

"Alex didn’t like it when I came in his face either. Must be a *thing* with you boys."

Mulder stopped wiping and shot the man an angry glare. His throat hurt like hell and he resented the sensations the man had brought out in him. The oxygen deprivation mixed with the hand-job made for one hell of a good orgasm. Luckily at the time, Mulder was able to keep his mind blank of all images. He’d just come, that was all, and though it was one of the best ever, he still gained no pleasure from it. Fox watched the smoking man as he started to dress.

"Where are my clothes? I want them back." He demanded, pulling the blanket up around his shoulders. He pulled the edges so he was fully encased in the thick wool. The blanket was already starting to warm him up; too bad it was itchier than hell.

"You can’t have them." The smoker tucked his shirt into his waistband. "I want you naked." He was horny as hell again, and ached fiercely with the need to flip Fox over and take him...hard. But, he was starting to practice some self- control besides, once he had Alex, then he could fuck them all he wanted.... Continuously, for days on end.

"Are you fucking insane!" Finally, the shock of what had just happened between them, hit Mulder with full force. "I’m your fucking son...you sick son of a bitch...."

"I’m not insane Fox, but I am all powerful. And as for fucking my son, well, it’s not like I haven’t done it before." The cancerous man was fully clothed now. He stared at his eldest son expectantly, waiting for his reply to that.

Mulder’s face went slack for a second. "You raped Jeff? My god! How old was he?" Jesus, bad enough his father was trying to destroy the human race but on top of that, he was a...what? Rapist, molester. The visions of what that old man could have possibly done to a boy who had grown up in the same house were horrifying.

"The first time I took him he was just barely a teenager.... and...." The smoker paused for just a half second. His eyes shone brightly, like he was letting Mulder in on a secret. "... the last time I screwed him was on the very same day as I killed him."

Spender’s voice held no remorse what so ever.

Mulder was at first horrified, then thankful that his mother had not left him for the malignant bastard to raise.

"I’m going to go and retrieve Alex now and bring him home. You be good while I’m away, and try not to be frightened of the dark." He turned and started to walk away but then stopped, "There’s a bucket to your left in case you need to...relieve yourself."

Sam, who had watched the whole sordid sex act from above, slipped inside of Spender again, for just a few seconds. It was he who was actually talking to Mulder. The entity didn’t like it when the toys peed on the stone floor. Gideon had not give the women he kidnapped buckets. Eventually, they wound up being forced to relieve themselves on the floor; like puppies on a newspaper. Only Gregor had not even put down some paper for them. A bucket was just easier, so he made one appear. After saying that, he wisped out of his host again, he couldn’t wait for the changed man to leave so he could start having fun with this toy’s un-penetrable brain. Sam might not be able to get inside of the man he knew to be Fox Mulder, but armed with all of the images captured inside the smoking man’s brain, he could at least attempt to drive him a little bit insane.

Ohhhh.... How Sam loved to play the mind games.

The smoker left and when he reached the top of the stairs he switched the light off, plunging his son into darkness.

Mulder shivered and bundled him self up even tighter in the blanket. With nothing else to do, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He hoped with everything that he had, that Walter would be able to protect Alex from Spender. Fox shuddered and he wondered to himself how their previously carefree, three-way relationship had taken such a complicated turn. From he and Alex arguing, to Spender and his wicked ways, in a span of a couple of days his world had turned upside down.

~0~

Alex tossed and turned in the bed.

The Russian was dreaming that he was suspended in Spender’s sling again. He was helpless to stop the man from masturbating into his face; Alex stared horrified as the tip of the large cock sent out the fist wave of cum. One hot drop splashed onto his cheekbone....

Suddenly, Alex lurched awake and jack-knifed up to a sitting position in the bed. Long fingers immediately touched the spot on his cheek; the warmth of the drops had felt so real. Dry. He sighed into the darkness and flung back the covers. The clock on the nightstand read two am.

It was time to get up.

Mulder should be home by now and the two of them really needed to talk. Alex was confident that his lover would still be awake, sitting on the couch watching a lame sci-fi movie with a title like, ‘Phsyco Biker Vixens from Mars’. Walter would most likely be dozing on the other end of the small couch; the only one of the three of them sensible enough to get some rest. He’d send the older man into the bedroom, to the comfort of a warm bed; he and Fox needed to be alone for this particular talk. Alex was feeling much better now that he had slept solid for a couple of hours. How could he really be angry with Fox? His lover was a visual person; he needed to *see* in order to understand. It’s how he was, Alex knew it and was thinking that maybe he could answer some of Fox’s questions this time.

Alex stood up then immediately dropped back down to the edge of the bed and waited for the wave of dizziness to pass. Once it did, he bent over and grabbed up his Smurf shirt and pulled it on. He turned on the small lamp then stood again, and this time, had no problems. The Russian padded over to his lover’s dresser and raided it for a pair of socks, boxers and a pair of dark grey sweats. He pulled on the garments then eased his way out of the bedroom and went straight for the bathroom. As he peed, he noted the slightly pink hue of his urine, he vaguely remembered that Spender had slammed him a good one over his left kidney. The old bastard used the handle of the whip to hit him; which was only slightly smaller than the width of a policeman’s nightstick. Alex concentrated, and a second later, he could clearly feel the sore spot over the kidney. He tucked himself back into his underwear then lifted the oversized T-shirt. Yep, there it was, a lovely purple bloom the size of his fist. After washing his hands, Alex leaned in close to the mirror and examined his face.

"Not too bad," He thought, "only one small bruise." His ass and thighs felt like they were on fire, despite the loose fitting pants. His right hip hurt too, so Alex took a look at it in the light and there was a patch of skin directly over his hipbone where he had a friction burn, the result from being dragged over the hardwood flooring. "Shit." Alex mumbled, he’d seen enough. The wounds were no longer important, they would heal with time. He would *heal* in time, he always did. It was more important to talk to Fox; they had to deal with this.

~0~

Alex stood over the snoring Walter Skinner. He stared down and watched as the large man slept, awkwardly positioned, on Mulder’s leather couch. "Where’s Fox?" He asked himself. The living room was dark except for the light coming from the fish tank in the corner of the room. Alex looked around; he had gone through every other room in the small apartment already. The agent wasn’t here. The Russian, suddenly anxious woke his other lover with a rough shake to his shoulder.

"What?....." Walter sat up and rubbed his eyes, "...hey Alex, what are you doing up?’ The farsighted man reached for his glasses and then picked up his wristwatch from the table and read the time. "It’s two fifteen in the morning."

Alex didn’t answer his older lovers’ question. "Where’s Fox?" He asked instead.

"I don’t know, he hasn’t come home yet." The large man stretched and smacked his lips; he needed a drink of water.

"What? Where did he go? Have you spoken to him." Alex, agitated, started to pace in front of the still seated Walter.

The larger man didn’t think it was very good for Alex to get so upset, he was still very fragile, whether the stubborn Russian knew it or not. Walter sighed heavily and stood, his high maintainence lovers were beginning to wear him down. He could almost regret letting Mulder pull him into this twisted triangle, but then again, Fox Mulder and Alex Krycek were the two most exciting people he’d ever been with.

At the moment however, he was weary of feeling like a father figure.

"I don’t know where he went Alex, he walked out of here on *both* of us" he reminded, "and no, I have not spoken to him. I’m his lover Alex, not his god-dammed dad or his keeper." Growing angry, he half yelled the part about being Fox’s father.

Alex, startled by Skinner’s sudden burst of rage instinctually stepped back a pace; he had no idea how distressed he looked.

Walter shook his head, now he’d scared Krycek with his menacing ways; where Fox and Alex were concerned, it seemed that he couldn’t do anything right. He walked away from his unsure lover and went and went to get his drink of water. The AD returned to the living room and was surprised to see Alex, still standing in the same place, waiting for him. He had thought for sure that the Russian would have left the room. The handsome younger man searched his eyes, asking silently for forgiveness, and right then and there, Skinner melted.

No wonder Fox could not resist Alex.

"I’m sorry Walter. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you're not part of the relationship. I’m just worried for Fox."

"So am I." Admitted Skinner. "I thought he would have come back by now. It’s not like him to brood this long."

"Yeah." Alex agreed. "Earlier, I was thinking about what the Englishman said to me once."

Skinner knew who the Englishman was.

"He said that Spender was hot for Fox. That he had been for...like...forever." Alex’s voice grew soft; the gurgle of the fish pump could be heard in the background. "What if taking me was a set up. Maybe Spender’s plan the whole time was to lure Fox to him, using me as bait?"

"Well, that would certainly make sense, but with the new and improved Cancer man, who can say for sure what he had or *has* on mind." Skinner replied sensibly.

"Well, I don’t know about the new Spender, but I certainly know the old one." Alex grimaced then, in remembrance of the repugnant man and the things they had done together far back into the past. The pacing began again. "The old Spender is smart enough to know that I wouldn’t want Fox to watch the tape and that Fox would *have* to see it in order to start coping with what was done to me. Smoking man knows how volatile Fox and I can be, he knew we’d fight about the video and he knew that one of us would walk out.... Knowing the shape that I’d be in...After all he was the one who caused it....logically he knew that it would be Fox who left this time...." Alex babbled on in one long sentence, pacing back and forth faster and faster as he spoke. The Russian stopped suddenly and turned to face Skinner. He was totally freaked out now. "It’s a set up Walter....that old fuck was probably sitting outside this door waiting for him....I gotta' go find him! Now!" Alex rushed to the closet door and flung it open, he sank to his knees and scrabbled about looking for a pair of shoes that would fit him.

"Alex...calm down, you don’t know for sure that anything *is* wrong with Fox. He’s gone off to lick his wounds...." He helpfully turned on the overhead light so that Krycek could see what he was doing. The AD was seriously contemplating calling Scully to come over and give Alex a tranquilliser. The Russian’s fears for his lover’s safety seem to amplify with each passing second.

Finally, Alex found a pair of his old runners; he quickly put them on. It was at that point that Skinner grasped Alex’s wrists and held them tightly. The injured man hissed in pain, his wrists were raw from the restraints. Walter looked down then quickly shifted his hands upward, restraining the Russian by the forearms. "Think Alex." He gave the over-anxious man bit of a shake. "It’s two thirty in the morning, you’re not going anywhere. Fox will go ballistic if he comes home and you’re not here."

Always an apt pupil, Alex learned quickly as a child how to get his own way. He used that much tried and true skill now on his older lover. First he stared defiantly into Skinner’s eyes, then lowered them solemnly, finally, nodding his head. The wily, former agent looked up again, his posture relaxed, "You’re right he will go crazy. I’ll stay."

Walter released Alex, not quite sure if the younger man was being forthright with him; he certainly seemed to be genuine. "Good. Now, why don’t I make some coffee and I’ll try to raise Fox on his cell, I’ll tell him to get his ass home." The older man smiled at that.

Inwardly Alex had to smile himself. Mulder would never have fallen for that act. But the Russian had no choice but to be deceptive. If Skinner believed he was going to reach Fox, then he was mistaken. Alex knew his lover was in trouble, he could feel it in his soul. "Okay, I’m going to take my shoes off and clean up this mess." He gestured with his head toward the shoes that were strewn about in front of the open closet.

"Okay." Walter went to the kitchen, relieved that he had managed to talk the headstrong younger man out of leaving, that’s all he needed, two missing lovers. Walter had never really dealt with Alex all on his own before, he was finding the experience novel and yet aggravating at the same time. In the kitchen, while he put the coffee while speaking to Scully at the same time. He told her of his fears, about what Alex had said about the cancerman and for Alex himself. His lover was upset, bordering on unreasonable, Skinner asked Scully to talk to him again, once she arrived.

In the meantime, as soon as Alex heard the tap go on in the kitchen, he quickly grabbed a jacket from the closet and pulled it on. As silent as a cat burglar, he was out the front door and gone already for a full ten minutes before the AD hung up the phone with Dana.

~0~

Alex had an idea of where Spender might take Fox.

Ten blocks from where Mulder’s apartment was where he expertly broke into an older model car hot-wired it and set off for the apartment where Spender had kept him captive. He couldn’t know that there was a trap waiting there for him; he assumed it was he who would be walking in and surprising Spender.

As he drove, the Russian ran possible ways of overcoming the much more powerful smoking man. He didn’t even realise that his rash behaviour was another symptom of shock; which he was still in.

~0~

"Fox............" Came the airy whisper through the darkness.

Mulder heard his name audibly, and the tone of the ethereal voice made every hair on his body stand on end. A shiver ran up his spine, and for the first time in a long time, Mulder was genuinely frightened.

The cold basement suddenly took a plunge in temperature even more and Mulder huddled further into the blanket, grateful that he had it. His eyes were wide open and peering through the darkness for the source of the voice.

"Fooooxxxxx..." The haunting tone again echoed through the silent cellar, "I have something I want to show you....."

Fox looked around it seemed that the words had came from all directions around him. The agent pushed his back against the stone wall and screwed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to see what ever it was that the voice wanted him too.

"That’s fine....." Whispered Sam, choosing not to appear before his toy just yet. He could see Mulder clearly; darkness had no meaning for him. The agent’s eyes were squeezed shut. Sam smiled, no matter. "You can listen then..."

And with that, Sam used all of his powers, and replayed the terror of one of the women Gideon Gregor had murdered in this very basement.

>>>No..... Please don’t cut my hand off.... no...no....help...please...some one help me....>>>

The voice was female, high-pitched, and pleading for mercy. Fox covered his ears and tried not to hear the screams as the young woman’s hand was cut off while she was still awake; without the aid of anaesthetic.

Mulder tried to shut out the young woman, but he could not. Over and over again, she screamed in pain and misery and begged for her life. Fox could not stop the sounds.

^*^

Demi-X

Jo’s next.