R5-Jo-p1

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Mercy Club
April 28, 1988
12:45 a.m.

The club had several dimly lit hallways off the main lounge. The hallways led to rooms used for both private and public functions. It was far from a fancy or trendy club. The rough wood floors were marred with dark stains and looked like they hadn't been scrubbed in years. Mulder tried not to think about what some of those stains were as he breathed through his mouth against the overwhelming smell of sex and body odor. He didn't have a problem taking his mind off the filth of the place; the leather-clad, muscle bound men did that for him. He blushed as all eyes in the club focused on him. Mulder moved closer to Patterson; he felt vulnerable dressed as he was in such a revealing outfit.

Mulder's eyes darted around the noisy room; stopping on a raised platform in the middle of the lounge where a large, naked man was chained spread eagle. There were metal rings piercing his nipples and from the rings, weights were attached pulling his nipples down. Weights were also attached to the man's balls, which swung back and forth between his legs as he was whipped to the cheers and encouragement of a small crowd that had gathered around to watch. The man who was doing whipping was even larger than the bound man, and he was completely dressed in black leather, complete with a leather mask covering his head. The only part of his flesh exposed was his groin, his cock stood erect and ready.

Patterson leaned in and whispered in Mulder's ear. "That will be you up there, Fox, next time you threaten to leave me."

Mulder swallowed and looked nervously at Patterson. He didn't know how he had gotten himself into such a hopeless situation. Mulder suddenly felt a tingle of fear race up his spine and turned to look at the table directly behind them.

Patterson noticed Mulder's attention was suddenly focused elsewhere, and he turned to see what Fox was looking at.

At the table sat, a dashingly handsome black-haired man in his early forties, he was dressed in a dark suit and he smirked at Patterson with open contempt. "So what delectable treat have you brought us, Patterson?"

Mulder thought the man looked like a mobster. Kneeling at the man's feet were two pretty young men on leashes, they were naked except for the cock and ball harnesses. Mulder's eyes widened as he took in the whip marks that crisscrossed the men's smooth backs. Their skin was an unhealthy pasty white, as if they hadn't been out in the sunlight in a very long time. At the table with the gangster sat another young man dressed in a stylish suit. He had the same dark Mediterranean goods looks as the older man. Mulder guessed he was the man's son and judged him to be in his early twenties. The two handsome men seemed out of place amongst the rough crowd that filled the club.

"I haven't brought you anything, Marco," Patterson sneered. "No one touches, Fox, but me."

"Too bad, he is such a pretty little thing," Marco said, thinking about how easy it would be to snap Patterson's neck and take the young man. However, there was something about this young man that deeply appealed to Marco as he gazed into those brilliant hazel eyes. This young one had great potential.

"Yes, he's very exquisite," the younger man replied. His black eyes burnt with lust as he studied Mulder, starting at his face and grazing wantonly over the agent's lanky body, until he stopped and focused on the clear outline of Mulder's cock in the tight leather pants. "Fox is such a well chosen name for this one, don't you agree, Uncle?"

"Yes, Armando, it is a pity that he is being wasted on such an old fool. However, Fox is still quite young, he needs to mature further."

"Uncle, he looks quite delicious now. I bet the little bitch is extremely tight. I want him. Please, let me have him."

Mulder blushed hotly over the young man's words and lust-filled stare. He wanted to flee. The man frightened and aroused him.

"No. He is still too young, Armando. Beneath that pretty face an unsurpassable beauty is waiting to bloom, that is, if this old fool doesn't ruin him first. Give the pretty Fox another thirteen years," the older man said, twirling the wine around in his glass then taking a sip of the dark red liquid.

Mulder's eyes locked on the long sharp nails of the older man's hand as he raised the glass to his lips. His eyes wandered back to the man's face and met two amused brown eyes.

"But, Uncle, surely a little taste won't harm him."

Marco turned to his young companion and slapped him across the face. "No! Armando, you are not to touch this one, I forbid it." He hated to have his decisions challenged by anyone, and he decided at that moment that Fox would be his, and no one else's, not even his nephew.

Mulder thought he saw, for the briefest moment, an inhuman face superimpose itself on top of the dark-haired man's features.

"Come along, Fox," Patterson snarled, pulling him roughly away from the two men. He hadn't expected them to be here, he had heard they had left the country. If he had known they were going to be at the club, he would never have brought Fox to this place. Something about those two men had always struck Patterson as evil. Not the abnormal evil of psychopaths that he dealt with daily, but an ancient evil that came straight up from the pits of hell.

Mulder allowed Patterson to pull him across the room toward the exit, but his eyes remained locked with the dark young man's black orbs. Even when other bodies blocked Mulder's view of the table, he could still see Armando's eyes.

***

J. Edgar Hoover Building
FBI HQ
Monday, November 29, 1999
1:30 p.m.

Mulder closed his eyes it had become very hard to breathe. When he came back to himself, he found that he was shivering and shaking, and wrapped protectively in Skinner's powerful arms. He had not thought of those men in eleven years. There was something so odd about them. He realized suddenly that he wasn't supposed to remember them; he had been commanded not to remember.

"Fox, are you all right?" Skinner asked.

"I . . . I'm not sure. What happened to me?"

"You zoned out. I was about to call for help. I thought you might be having some sort of a seizure."

"Walter, something happened to me at that club. Not that first night or even the second time we went. It happened the last time I went there with Bill. I remember when I arrived at work the next day I went immediately to put in for a transfer to the VCS. Bill didn't even fight me over it. I don't know what gave me the courage to do that; at the time, I was still deeply under Bill's influence. It was like I had no choice in the matter, I had to put in for that transfer, and I had to end it with Patterson," Mulder said shivering. Anytime he tried to focus on the club that last night he became physically uncomfortable.

Mulder was still shaking so badly, that Skinner was afraid for his health. "Fox, it doesn't matter right now. I'm going to take you back to my apartment until I can arrange for a safe house. I want you to get some rest. We'll work at jogging your memory later."

Mulder closed his eyes feeling nauseous. "Walter, it's still early. It might not look too good if both of us left at once. I'll be fine on my own."

"I'm not letting you out of my sight, Fox. Not when there is still some sexual psychopath out there who has his sites set on you! I want you in a safe house, until we can catch this man. I don't like it that he knows where I live or that he got into your apartment without your knowledge," Skinner said, easing Mulder off him, he picked up the phone on Mulder's desk and phoned his assistant.

"Kim, Agent Mulder isn't feeling well. I'm going to be taking him back to my apartment to rest. If Agent Scully should call have her get in touch with me there," Skinner said gruffly, then hung up the phone.

"Don't you need your coat?" Mulder asked as he struggled into his overcoat. The shaking had subsided, but he was feeling ill.

"Don't worry about it. I'll be warm enough; the temperatures are in the mid forties today. I think it's best to get you out of here and hom . . . to my apartment," Skinner corrected.

Mulder smiled at him. Over the long weekend, he had started to think of Skinner's apartment as home. It was warm and cozy unlike his apartment. And Skinner's company was much more preferable to that of his fish, he mused lightly. His fish, damn, despite his teasing Skinner about it he had forgotten to feed them when he was last at his apartment. He'd have to call Scully and have her feed them, he thought as he followed Skinner out the back entrance to the parking ramp.

Skinner opened the car door for Mulder and waited while he climbed in then closed it and walked around to the driver's side. He reran the words of the letter that the UNSUB had left for Mulder through his head. The words the man had used to describe Mulder as if he were a piece of meat to be used for his perverted pleasure sickened Skinner. Whoever the bastard was he'd have to go through him first, and Skinner would see to it that he paid dearly for that letter and the emotional trauma it had caused Mulder. He glanced over at Mulder's face as he steered his car onto the highway. The young man was too pale and still looked ill to Skinner. He pulled his eyes off Fox's pale face and concentrated on his driving for the rest of the way to his apartment building.

His cell phone rang as he was pulling into the underground parking garage of his building. "Skinner."

"Sir, it's Scully. I'm at Mulder's apartment with Agent Colton."

"What have you found, Agent Scully," Skinner asked as he pulled the car into his parking space.

"We have the lab technicians collecting samples of what appears to be semen stains that were left around the apartment. And, sir," Scully hesitated as she held up a plastic evidence's collection bag in front of the window and frowned. Inside it were several tiny fish skeletons. "He killed all of Mulder's fish, and somehow removed the flesh from their bones, all that is left is the skeletal structure. I have no idea how he did that," she said, worried.

Skinner sighed, "I'll tell Mulder, Scully. Was there anything else?"

"Ah, yes, the UNSUB slashed all of Mulder's underwear into ribbons."

Mulder watched Skinner's face. Skinner's jaw clenched and he turned his body partially away from him. "Okay, Scully, keep me posted."

Mulder tried to interrupt. "Wait! Don't hang up tell her to feed my fish," he said quickly.

Skinner didn't say a word as he disconnected, and opened his car door without even looking at Mulder. "C'mon, Fox, let's get up to my apartment." He was having a hard time keeping his anger from showing on his face. He'd kill that bastard when he got his hands on him.

"Walter, what's wrong?" Mulder touched his sleeve as they got to the elevator.

"He killed your fish, Fox, and cut up all of your underwear," Skinner said through clenched teeth.

"My fish? Damn!" Mulder growled, slamming his fist against the elevator's wall. "Some of them I had for four years."

"Fox, we'll catch him."

Mulder closed his eyes and swallowed, he leaned up against the elevator wall. "Was there any word on Mike Hatter?"

"She didn't say."

The elevator doors slid open on Skinner's floor and he guided Mulder down the hallway to his apartment. "I'm going to give you some Tylenol and I want you to go lay down. I have some phone calls to make."

"Walter, I want to help. I won't be able to sleep. I need to be doing something!" Mulder pleaded.

Skinner walked over to him and pulled him into an embrace. "Fox, you almost passed out in the office. Just lay down and rest for an hour," he murmured gently.

Mulder relented as he rested his head on Skinner's shoulder; he still wasn't feeling well. "Okay, fine, an hour." He kissed Skinner chastely, then headed upstairs while Skinner headed for his home office.

***

Mulder's apartment
Monday, November 29, 1999
2:30 p.m.

Tom Colton walked up to Scully shaking his head in disgust. "Dana, I always knew Mulder was a sick fuck."

"What do you mean, Agent Colton?" Scully asked through clenched teeth.

"Did you see his video collection? Most of it is gay porn, men doing men. I always thought Mulder swung that way," Colton said.

"What my partner does in his private life is really none of your business, Agent Colton!" Scully was livid; she knew that Mulder never kept any porn laying out in the open around his apartment. Those tapes had to have been hidden in his closet.

"It is if it's pertinent to this case!"

"What does Mulder's videos have to do with this case?"

"The UNSUB is obviously gay, and he's probably someone who Mulder knows in passing. Why else would he jerk off all over this place and cut up Mulder's underwear? That was a purely sexual act."

It irked her that Colton was right, but she wasn't going to let him know how much that it bothered her. Scully kept her face impassive. "Mulder is a very good looking man. It is hardly odd that some stranger has fixated on him. Besides, we're already certain that this is tied to more than one agent who worked for the BSU when Mulder did. Has there been any word on Mike Hatter?"

"No, he hasn't answered his phone. We have two agents on their way to his home now."

One of the crime scene technicians came over to Scully. "We're finished here, Agent Scully." The man paused and asked with genuine concern, "Is Agent Mulder all right?"

"Mulder is a bit shaken up, but otherwise he is fine," Scully lied. She knew that Mulder was anything but fine.

"That's good. Most of us in the lab like Mulder a lot. He brings us some of our more interesting work. We'd really hate to see anything happen to him," the man said, looking pointedly at Colton. He had listened to some of Colton's early remarks about Mulder when Scully wasn't around, and he wanted to warn Colton that there would be consequences to spreading any rumors about Mulder sexual preference.

Colton flinched under the large man's menacing look. He realized that he'd better be careful, he was just reassigned to D.C. after a six year stint in South Dakota, and he didn't want to chance being sent back there. "We all want what's best for Agent Mulder," he agreed.

Scully smiled appreciatively at the lab tech, she hadn't missed the silent message that was passed between him and Colton.

"Good," the man said in parting. He was followed out the door by the rest of the agents.

"I think you better get going, too," Scully said to Colton. "I'm going to pack some things for my partner to take to the safe house with him."

"Yeah, whatever," Colton grumbled as he left.

***

Annapolis
Monday, November 29, 1999
7:00 p.m.

Marco Salavanti sat in his den studying the document his servant had handed him. His nephew had gone against his wishes and stalked Fox Mulder. Not only that, he had killed that old fool Patterson, and in so doing had stirred up the interest of the FBI. Marco had let Armando know, in no uncertain terms, that the pretty Fox was not to be touched. That Fox would belong to him, and him alone, when he deemed the young man ready to bring over.

As he had predicted the young Fox had become an even more stunning beauty as he aged. In his long existence, Marco had never considered any mortals as his equal or potential mate, they were all merely toys for his enjoyment, but this one man was the exception. He had followed Fox's career in the FBI with great interest. The young agent had a remarkable mind and great intuitive powers. Fox saw things that other humans dismissed as not possible or refused to see at all out of fear.

He had planned to take Fox for his, next year on Allhallowmas. Now everything had changed. The subliminal instruction he had given to Fox eleven years ago to keep away from Patterson and all other men had dissolved upon Patterson's death. Marco angrily crumpled the paper in his hand, he held it tightly clenched in his fist, and watched as smoke poured out through his fingers. First, he had to decide on an appropriate punishment for his nephew *when* he found him. Armando had become very adept at hiding himself from Marco. Then he had to decide if he would take Fox now or wait until next year as he had planned.

He stood and walked over to the window to look out at the moonlit bay. Somehow Armando had gained assess to the facility for the criminally insane. The document on Patterson's death had said the man had been tortured before he was killed. Apparently, it hadn't been enough for his nephew that they had driven Patterson insane in the first place. Armando would have had to work at the facility in order to spend the amount of time needed to torture Patterson without being discovered. He must have murdered and taken on the identity of someone who worked at the facility, and knowing his nephew as he did, it would have been someone in authority. His nephew would never settled for disguising himself as a commoner. Their kind was very good at altering their looks at will.

So where would Armando be now?

***

Viva Tower
Skinner's Apartment
Monday, November 29, 1999
7:30 p.m.

Armando stood by a streetlight looking up at the tall glass tower. He wouldn't be able to claim his Fox tonight because he needed to feed. He turned and ambled off down the street in search of nourishment.

Up on the tower's seventeenth floor, Skinner stood in the bedroom doorway with a tray of food; he was reluctant to wake Mulder. His lover's hour's long nap had turned into five hours. However, Mulder needed to eat and he wanted to fill him in on the case and Mike Hatter's murder. Plus, he had to bring him to the safe house tonight. Skinner hoped that Mulder might have recalled something from that final night at club Mercy.

Nicole's turn!