Title: Adeline
Author: Sara Dobie


Stirling Castle, Scotland

        Charles Holkovic's old, green eyes skimmed the surface of the ancient novel 
clutched tightly in his arthritis-riddled knuckles.  He squinted through the little light 
the small candle in the corner let off and blew the thick dust off the leather coverings 
of the book that had obviously not been touched in decades.  A musty smell that 
smelled of wet grass in the Spring invaded his nose.  He sneezed and held the book 
further away from himself.  The title had long been worn away by the invinsible 
fingertips of time badly spent on a bookshelf, collecting more dust than a long dead 
corpse.  The leather binding was decrepit and falling to shreads in the old man's 
hands.  He sighed and returned the book to the shelf.  
        The aged library of the famous Scotish Stirling Castle surrounded him like the 
stiff walls of a coffin six feet under.  Charles had inherited the wondrously decorated 
peice of memorobilia as a young man.  He had moved his beautiful wife to the castle 
with him, hoping that the romantic settings might just spice up his love life.  Besides 
that, the house had been decorated by the rich, the famous, and the beautiful.  Who 
would turn down such an offer?  After discovering that his wife, Mae, was unable to 
have any offspring, they had both been downhearted about the entire situation.  
Eventually, though, they had just given up completely on bearing themselves a child.  
They were getting too old to even think of such a thing now, anyway.  Holkovic ran 
his shaking fingers back through his thick, white mane of hair and down through his 
long, beard.   Holkovic was a tall and thin man that resembled the futuristic version of 
Rip Van Winkle after awakening from his slumber.  His wife always laughed at him 
for it, too.  She was such a jolly woman!  After all the emotional strifes they had 
shared together, she still could keep such a radiant smile on her circular face.  She lit 
up a room at times.  
        He sighed to no one but himself and glanced around him.  The library was too 
old to read the books from.  Who knew how long these books had been gaining dust 
on the shelves?  The castle had been inhabited by such a long line of people that they 
could very well be from the French Revolution!  He smiled and walked through the 
door of the effete bookcases.  There was nothing more he could do.  He would just 
have to go back to his good, old newspaper for the time being.  
        Holkovic's study would make any philosopher's head spin.  He was a true man of 
the world, knowing information about everyplace, everyone, and everything.  He had 
not truly worked a day in his life.  He had simply spent his time learning more and 
more like a sponge after being thrown in the ocean.  He had, at one point, taught 
philosophy, but that quickly lost his interest.  Besides, he did not need the money.  His 
only reason to work would be to enjoy himself and keep himself busy.  Other than 
that, he had no reason to do anything at all.  He was set for the rest of his life, and he 
didn't need to worry about leaving any children behind.  He had no remaining family, 
either.  He was a man without cause.  He was more than capable of simply floating 
through the world, nameless, faceless, souless.  He was a mere entity amongst the 
human race.
        He sat down in his favorite, leather seat and laid his arms gently on the sides.  
The seat sunk slightly beneathe his weight.  It was so used to his figure inhabiting it 
that no other form would fit comfortably into it.  The smoldering wood in the 
fireplace cracked loudly, sending a shiver through Holkovic's back.  He smiled at his 
own jumpiness.  The warmth of the fire sauntered to his face, massaging it with its 
unseen fingers as ghosts would reach out from the grave.  He sucked in the warm air, 
heating his interiors immediatly.  The soft smell of the scented wood danced in the 
air, being the smoke's nameless dance partner.  He closed his eyes and listened to the 
sizzling and writhing of the tortured wood beneath his feet.  
        She stepped out from the shadows, almost appearing to materialize from a pure 
nothingness.  She was a beautiful woman, and this, any man would see.  She was a 
tall and graceful being of perfection as if crafted from God's flesh after the 
crucifiction.  The fact that she was sickly slim did not matter.  Her bones stuck 
roughly through her skin, but the rest of her made this sickening imperfection almost 
disappear.  Her shapely hips were hidden perfectly beneath a airy, white gown that 
moved with a breeze that was unfelt by any human beings present.  Her long, blonde, 
curls cascaded down her shoulders and back like a silken blanket upon a naked 
Godess as she lay in the sun.  The curls perfectly framed her thin, pale face.  With 
vibrant, pink lips and deep, purple irises, she was irresistable.  The only hand that 
deserved to touch the soft skin was the hand of God.  This woman was perfect, except 
for one small abnormality: she was dead.  
        Holkovic recrossed his legs and reached toward his sidetable where he had left 
his newspaper earlier that evening and found nothing.  He frowned and furrowed his 
brow.  It had been there before!  He had left it there, hadn't he?  Perhaps, his old mind 
was slowly fading out on him.  He stood up and glanced around the room.  Had he 
taken it with him to the library?  He turned toward the door but suddenly stopped.  
The room's temperature had changed.  There had to be a window open because a chill 
ran down his spine as he was met with the cool air of death.  He fell back into his 
chair and grimaced in agony.  
        "Oh, God!"  he screamed and grabbed onto his stomach.  He felt as if a battle 
was being fought on his insides.  He thought to call to his wife, but that was hopeless.  
She would never hear him in the study.  He was practically on the opposite side of the 
house from her.  He shook uncontrollably and  shoved himself back against the chair 
trying to stop the pain.  "God help me!"  His body convulsed violently as he began 
coughing uncontrollably.  He felt himself slipping away slowly, painfully, full of 
terror.  A tear rolled down his cheek while blood ran down his chin in a terrible gush 
of crimson.  He coughed and coughed, unable to stop until he felt as if he had 
coughed up all of his blood.  He felt his hands beginning to dampen.  His entire 
shirtfront was covered with red!  He yelled out but no sound came.  There was 
nothing.  There was nothing but blackness.  Nothing, nothing, nothing.  
Nothing.............but death.

FBI Building, Washington, D.C.

        Fox Mulder sighed loudly into the phone at his partner.  "How long do you think 
you'll be out?"
        She sniffed and coughed dramatically, striving to make Mulder believe that she 
really was just as sick as she sad she was.  "I don't know, Mulder.  I'm really sorry 
about this."
        He tapped his pen nervously across the desk and rolled his eyes.  "Sure."
        "Mulder, I'm serious."  She sneezed loudly, exageratting the noise into the phone.  
She could tell that he still did not believe her.  "Do you think I'm happy about having 
pnemonia?  Do you think I'm glad I get to sit in a hospital bed all day?  You know 
how much I hate being laid up."
        "Oh, sure, I just hate it when I have to sit around eating bon-bons."
        She was highly annoyed, but she tried to hold onto her composure.  "Stop being 
so  stubborn.  You can even visit the hospital.  I'm sick, Mulder!  It's not easy to fake 
pnemonia, you know.  I didn't even want to be here.  The doctor made me come.  You 
know how much I hate hospitals."  
        He sighed.  It was time to take the nice guy approach so that he could get off the 
phone without getting an earfull of someone who frighteningly was beginning to 
remind him of his mother.  "Have a good time, Scully.  I'm up to my nose in cases."  
He glanced around the desk.  He had absolutely nothing to do.  "This is going to be 
one hell of a day."
        "If you want to send me some of the paperwork, I don't mind."
        He jumped to attention.  "No, I'll handle it."  He  hoped that he didn't sound too 
desperate to make himself sound busy.  "Thanks, anyway, though."  
        She shook her head.  She knew Mulder too well to not see through his nice guy 
act, but she went along with it anway.  She could hear in his voice that he was 
unhappy with her.  "Sure, Mulder.  I'd better go.  I see them wheeling in my bon-bons 
right now."  
        He smiled.  "Don't gain any weight.  I'll know you've had chocolate if you do."
        "Oh, thanks."
        "I hope you feel better.  I'll send you flowers." 
        "Thanks, Mulder."  She hung up the phone before he could say anything else.  
She frowned and glanced around the crowded hallway of the hospital she had been 
admitted to.  She was going to have one boring week.
        Mulder stared at the  phone and glanced toward Scully's desk.  He knew that he 
had nothing to do today.  He had hoped that she would be there so that they could go 
out to lunch and just have a Mulder and Scully day.  He needed the time to relax 
anyway.  He put his feet on his desk and glanced around, thinking of what he would 
do with the rest of the afternoon.  Nothing came to mind as he looked through the 
papers that had amounted to absolutely nada.  He sighed and leaned back in his chair.  
Maybe he would go visit his mother.
        The ringing of the   phone on the desk made him jump suddenly.  He was not 
sure why a mere phone call would make him so nervous, but there must be some 
reason.  He felt the electricity of a bad energy radiating through his system as he 
picked up the receiver and shoved it to his ear.  "Mulder."
        "Agent Mulder, this is Assistant Director Skinner.  I know you must be 
incredibly busy with other cases, but I'm afraid I've got something for you."  There 
was a slight pause.  "If you're too busy, I could always give it to someone else, but as 
soon as I heard about it, I thought about you."
        Mulder sat up straight.  "I'd love to take it."  He swallowed hard.  A big lie was 
coming, and he had to make it sound great.  "All this paperwork is making my fingers 
brittle.  I'd be glad to get out of this office for a change. I'm up to my ears in this 
junk."
        "I thought you'd say that."  Skinner smiled.  He could smell Mulder's lie a mile a 
way.  
        "So, where am I off to?" 
        "Well, you're going to meet with another agent-"
        "Excuse me, sir, did you say another agent?"
        "Yes.  You'll be working with Ruth Sage.  You'll meet her at the Cafe across the 
street at noon.  Then, you're both off to Scotland for a little ghost hunting."
        Mulder swallowed hard.  He had heard of Ruth Sage a time or two.  She was a 
Duke-educated Parapsychologist that had made quite a name for herself over the 
years.  She was fearless in every respect of the word.  She had written two books 
about her paranormal experiances.  Mulder had read both of them, as did every single 
person interested in ghosts in the entire United States.  She was a real life ghost 
catcher that never lost a spirit.  She had revealed more hoaxes than Houdini, and she 
was not ever going to be one-uped by any person.  She always seemed to pass by her 
own amazing stories with each new investigation.  Besides all that, she was known as 
"Ms. Spooky."  Mulder had always wanted to meet her.  Her methods and beliefs 
were even more unorthodox than his own, and this interested him more than any 
poltergeist ever would.  "That sounds perfest, sir.  I'll take the case."
        "Good  luck, Agent Mulder."  The phone went dead.
        Mulder sat back in his chair and smiled.  Maybe this week wouldn't be as boring 
without Scully as he thought it would be after all.  

        "Right here, driver."  Mulder pointed toward the immense crowds of people 
congregated around the area.  He pulled out five dollars and tossed it into the front 
seat before climbing out and glancing around the scene.  Mulder glanced at his watch.  
It was already one o'clock.  He had waited and waited for Sage's arrival at the cafe, 
but he had given up after an hour.  Guessing that she was not a person to be late very 
often, he had called her office only to find that she had caught the elusive Henry 
Roche: a serial killer that had already killed seven people.  He was known to be an 
evil soul that no one had ever even gotten close to catching and lived to see another 
sunrise.  
        The area was a madhouse.  People were trying to see over the police officers 
shoulders, trying to get a glimpse of this madman first hand.  Many of them were 
reporters, some were families of the victims, and other were just there to see the zoo 
arrive.  Mulder shoved through without any gentleness.  He was annoyed with Sage.  
Why hadn't she even called to tell him that she was not going to be able to make it?  
        He sighed and showed his badge to the police officer before ripping through the 
crowd and walking into the true storm system.   A fat police officer rushed past him 
holding his greasy donut close to his chest as if protecting a valuable secret from 
those near to him.  A tall and slim officer with a pointy mustach itched his chin as he 
spoke with another officer that was obviously drunk.  He was about to make a scene 
when his pointed mustach friend began to talk about something else.  A short, female 
officer scrawled writing all over a small pad of paper.  If anyone had looked further 
into her "notes" they would have seen that she was simply doodling, because she was 
so riddled with bordom that she had to do something or else she would go insane.  
<High school students feel the same way.>  Everyone was in uniform pretending to be 
busy.  Some actually were, though.  A few truly had somewhere to go, something to 
do.  They were the only ones who were actually awake and aware of what was 
happening around them.  These were the people whose lives were full of excitment 
because they made the excitment happen wherever they were, whenever they were 
anywhere.  Excitment seemed to follow these lucky, energetic people.  One of these 
people were Ruth Sage, but Mulder had never seen her before in his life.  He had no 
idea what she looked like!
        "Mulder?"
        Mulder turned toward his name, surprised that someone actually recognized him.  
Who would know him at a murder scene?
        "Oh, man, I thought that was you."  A rather short and jolly looking fellow 
sucking down a steaming cup of coffee hurried toward him.  He had short, red hair 
and a nose that was a little too small for his round face.  
        "Jon Stewart?"
        "Yep, yep.  Wow, you sure do look like an FBI agent!  Not just good old Spooky 
anymore, huh?" He elbowed Mulder in the side, sending him stepping back from the 
sudden attack.  
        "I guess not."  Mulder's mind went back to his time at the Academy.  He had met 
Stewart there, not expecting to become a friend.  They were two people from two 
different sides of the world, two men living in parallel universes.  Surprisingly, 
Stewart had taken to Mulder's "spookiness," and they had become fast friends.  They 
were split up after graduating from the Academy, but now, it seemed not a day had 
passed.  "You're working this case?"
        "Well, kind of."  He paused and glanced around the area.  He was planning on 
exageratting his amazing story, so he had to make sure no one was close enough to 
hear him telling a stretch of the truth.  "You see, they thought I could really help them 
on this case.  So, I came on and caught the guy.  It's been a hell of a day."  
        His voice shook slightly revealing to Mulder that this man was telling a slight 
adaptation of the truth.  He just nodded and smiled, pretending to believe his story.  
He needed to find Sage before their flight was all the way to Scotland without them.  
"Hey, Stew, you wouldn't happen to know Ruth Sage, would you?"
        "Sage?  Oh, hell, everyone knows her."
        "Really?  We're going to be working on a case together, and I have no idea what 
she looks like.  Our flight leaves in," he glanced at his watch, "two hours.  I kind of 
have to find her, fast."
        "Let me see."  He glanced around the crowd and smiled at Mulder.  "Just look for 
the crowd.  You'll find Sage."  He squinted slightly and pointed toward a crowd of 
doctors.  "There she is.  Little black-headed, Ms. Spooky.  She's a cute one, isn't she?"
        Mulder looked toward where he was pointing and could hardly believe his eyes!  
He saw a woman, but she could not possibly be an FBI agent.  She looked to be about 
twenty, if even that old.  She had shoulder-length, black hair that did not appear to 
have been styled for months.  She was definatly a low maintenance woman, not that 
Mulder minded.  He did not wish to work with someone who had to carry pounds and 
pounds of make up and hair products onto the plane.  Her eyes were almost glowing 
with their deep grey-blue vibrance.  Her irises almost appeared to be daisy petals in a 
strange design that gave her an almost odd look if he looked her straight in the eye.  
She appeared to have run into a pole!  Her nose was perfectly flat in the center.  
Mulder smiled. She probably hated that, he was sure.  Her face was small and round, 
making her look younger than she really was.  She was probably only five foot, six.  
She was short, but she made Scully look like a dwarf.  She was very thin with a touch 
of baby fat around her cheeks.  Mulder had to smile.  She was not gorgeous, but she 
was cute.  
        He turned to Stewart.  "That's Ruth Sage?"
        "Yeah.  I know, she don't look like much.  But she's one of our best.  This case 
really bothered the hell out of her.  She was almost obssessed to catch this psycho.  
You familiar with the case, Mulder?"
        He nodded, watching her.  She seemed to be in control of everyone around her, 
barking orders, her eyes staring deep into them, making them do what she said.  He 
noticed why the doctors were around her, now.  Her fingers were tightly wrapped in 
clean, white bandages, resembling those of a mummy in a tomb.  "What happened to 
her fingers?"
        "As I was saying, this case really got to her.  She wasn't even supposed to be 
working on this case.  She was supposed to be off with you, but when the news that 
someone had spotted  Roche in this area.  Of course, Sage was the first one here.  She 
chased him to this garage."  He waved his hand at the background.  There were rows 
and rows of storage garages all along the avenue.  "Anyway, he was ahead of her a 
bit.  She's a little thing, after all.  She's no Olympic runner.  So, he runs inside one of 
these open garages and shuts it.  Well, you know how these automatic jobbies work, 
don't ya?  If anything is under them when they close, they pop back up.  Sage was 
running after him, and about this much was left before she lost him again."  Stewart 
showed with his fingers about an inch of space and glanced back toward Sage.  "So, 
the girl sticks her fingers under the door.  It pops back up.  Of course, her fingers are 
totally crushed.  I mean every bone was just smashed."  He put extra emphasis on the 
word "smashed" causing Mulder to wince slightly at the thought.  "She caught the 
bastard.  Even with her fingers lookin' like jell-o, the girl pointed her gun at the son of 
a bitch until the cops got here.  She's one amazing gal."  He shook his head in 
appreciation.  
        "Wow.  I thought stuff like that only happened in movies."  He scratched the 
back of his head and remembered why he was there.  He had to get Sage and get them 
both to the plane before it left.  "It was nice talking to you, Stew.  I hope to see you 
again."  
        "Good luck with her.  She can be a bitch." He pointed toward Sage with his 
thumb and turned to talk with the drunk officer on the back of the car.  His mustached 
friend had given up on him by then.
        Mulder hurried through the crowds, fighting to get to Sage.  She really was the 
center of the crowd, just as Stewart had said.  She grabbed a small, cellular phone 
from one of the officers below her.  "I'm fine!  It doesn't matter, anyway.  We caught 
the bastard."  A flustered woman handed Sage a peice of paper, which she read 
quickly while keeping up the conversation with whoever was on the phone.  "No.  
There's no way he's getting out."  She turned away from the phone.  "Stewart!"  
        Steward jumped suddenly.  "Yes, Ms. Sage?"
        "Get off your ass and get Conway on the phone!"
        "Yes, ma'am."  He almost dropped his coffee and rushed to her aid.
        She rapidly returned to the phone call.  "Yes, sir.  Everything is under control."  
She glanced at her watch and gasped.  "Shit," she muttered under her breath so that 
whoever on the  phone could not hear her.  "Um, sir, I've got to get things under 
control.  I'll call you with a report later."  She turned to one of the people running 
around her.  "I need you to call Agent Fox Mulder."
        "Agent Sage!  I'm already here."  Mulder stepped forward, careful not to get run 
over by one of the unfortunate people under Sage's commands.  
        "Oh, God, I'm so sorry.  I forgot completely."  Steward handed her a phone and 
smiled and Mulder as if saying he was only doing this to be helpful.  He really was 
not below Sage.  Mulder knew he was, though.  It was obvious in the way she spoke 
to him.  "Excuse me for a minute." She held up a black-painted fingernail and held the 
phone to her ear.  "Conway?"  Pause.  "Yes, I am aware that my fingers are broken."  
Pause.  "Look, I don't care.  Did you get that freaking police car here yet to take 
Roche to the court house?"  Her brow furrowed.  "Well, get it here."  She glanced at 
her watch just as she had only moments earlier.  "I won't be here when he leaves.  I'm 
putting Wainwright and Jaxon in charge of watching him, and don't let him get out.  
You know I'll hunt you down and kill you like an animal, don't you?"  Pause.  "All 
right."  She hung up the phone and turned to Mulder.  "I am so sorry about all of this.  
I didn't plan any of it.  I feel so bad about it."
        He shook his head.  "That's all right."
        "Agent Sage!"  A nervous woman rushed to her side and handed her a paper.  
"You have to sign this, now."  
        Sage skimmed over the paper and signed it with her one good hand and threw the 
woman the paper.  She turned to another nervous man.  "Emerson, you're in charge 
until Conway gets here with the car.  I'm trusting you."
        "I know, Agent Sage."  His voice shook slightly.  "I'll take care of everything."
        "Great."  She turned back to Mulder and brushed her hair off of her forehead.  It 
was obvious she was feeling a lot of stress, but Mulder could see she handled it better 
than most.  "Let's get out of here."  

        The plane was a little too crowded for Mulder's liking.   A rather fat looking 
female had decided to sit directly in front of him.  Her seat was so far back that it 
smashed into his knees, and they were in first class!  It was just his luck that a woman 
of such gargantuin size would choose to sit in front of him.  He glanced up at her 
flaming, red hair and frowned.  It was going to be a long flight, and he could tell 
already.  The only positive thing he could think of was that there were no young, 
screaming, children.  
        He glanced toward Sage.  She appeared to be deep in thought as she read over 
the only paperwork they had received about the case so far.  It was a thin folder that 
held simple information that truly did not need to be said.  She pushed her small, 
round reading glasses up further on her flat nose and smiled suddenly through the 
clouds.  "Have you read this yet?"
        He nodded.  "I skimmed over it at the restaurant earlier."  
        "This is so amazing.  I haven't heard of anything like this since Amityville."  She 
went back to her reading.
        Mulder smiled and shook his head.  She was so excited about this case.  He had 
noticed that on the car trip to the airport.  She was just bursting to get to the house, 
and he really couldn't blame her.  Stirling Castle was a notably haunted living space, 
and they both knew it.  The only thing they could think of was that a poltergeist was 
involved.  
        She flipped the folder closed and took off her glasses.  
        "Well, what do you think?" He was interested in what she had to say.
        "This has happened before."  She turned toward him and met him straight in the 
eye.
        He was surprised at this.  He was not aware anything like this had ever 
happened, anywhere.  "What?"
        She nodded.  "1974 at our good, old Stirling Castle."  She folded her hands 
across her knees.  "She was one of the cleaning crew that stumbled into the older 
corners of the house.  They found her the next morning with her pocket knife inside of 
her."  She glanced out of the window at the ground far below.  "That's got to leave a 
lasting impression on a person."
        "I wasn't aware of this."  Now, he understood what Scully felt like whenever he 
found information behind her back and told her, making himself sound smart and 
knowledgable.  Hearing this from someone else really put him in his place.
        "Most people aren't.  Actually, it wasn't even thought to be a homicide.  They 
ruled it suicide after three days of investigation.  One thing I'd like to know, how in 
the hell can a twenty year old woman shove a  knife down her throat without cutting 
herself?"  
        "Well, this death is the same way, isn't it?"
        She nodded, glad to see that he understood what she was saying.  She had heard 
so many mixed things about Fox Mulder, and at the moment she was simply 
attempting to figure out which things were lies and which things were true.  So far, 
she was happy with her part-time partner.  "Exactly what I was getting at."
        "So, what?  You think ghosts are killing people?"
        "Well, to be perfectly honest, I've never truly believed the stories radiating 
around Stirling Castle.  I would love to prove it as being a hoax, actually.  I'm just 
thinking that maybe a murderer is trying to bring more attention to the Castle by 
commiting horrid murders, and the son of a bitch is getting away with it because 
everyone thinks the place is haunted."
        "How would you explain the swallowing of the implements?  I mean, in the 
recent death, an antique sword was pulled out of the guy's stomach.  People don't 
normally swallow swords without even scraping their throats."
        "That's what has got me puzzled.  I really have no idea how that happened.  That 
is the only reason this haunting has any credibility.  Are you familiar with Stirling 
Castle, Mulder?"
        "I know enough to know that no parapsychologists have ever tested the place."
        "That's all you need to know, too.  It's better if you don't know what things have 
been seen here.  That makes you a better source."
        "Oh, oh, do I get to be in your next book?"  He pretended to be excited.
        "So, you've read my books, have you?"
        He nodded.  "They were very well written.  The second one really made me a 
believer in life after death."
        "So, I'm guessing you've never seen a ghost, Mulder?"
        He shook his head.  "Not yet."
        "Well, if this place is for real, I'm sure you'll be seeing plenty of them."  She 
reached into her bookbag and pulled out a thick book of poems by Allen Ginsberg and 
put her glasses back on her small face.  She curled up into a little ball in her seat and 
indulged herself in the beautiful and sometimes disturbing words of someone who had 
truly changed the world.  
        Mulder looked out the window next to her as she read.  The landscape was truly 
gorgeous.  Perhaps, he should get some sleep.  He was guessing that he wouldn't be 
sleeping very well at the Castle.  He closed his eyes and was quickly asleep, snoring 
softly.  

        The area flew by them with such a free victory that it resembled an Olympic 
runner subsequent to winning a gold metal.  It was happy to show off its beauty to all 
that dared to look into the lands dead eyes.  It smiled and waved goodbye as they 
disappeared onto the next plot of land, the land that was cursed.  
        An immense pool of dark, green waters shifted motionlessly at the base of the 
precipitous ravine that the small, taxi sped next to.  The beaches were covered with 
thick, damp, seaweed pulled from the underwater garden by winds that only the fish 
were familiar with.  The only human beings that knew this underwater wind were 
dead, and well they should be.  Being sucked into the depths of the mighty lochs 
would easily kill the frail body of a human, tearing at the soft flesh and bones that had 
never been made to fight with such pressures.  
        Mulder looked out his window at the high sky above them as they drove toward 
their final resting place.........for the night.  The sky had been overtaken by indistinct 
cloud cover that had seemed to appear from the very depths of a deep, dark hell, 
burning the blue as it went.  He swallowed hard, the smell of the rain reaching his 
nose in a wave of humid air.  He pulled in the soft scent and smiled.  It had not rained 
in Washington for months, and he had missed the gentle aroma of the coming storm.  
        Sage stared out at the deep waters and thought of what dark beings could be 
found in its depths.  Sage's one and only fear was dark waters.  She hated not being 
able to see what may be lingering only inches from her toes, waiting to pounce and 
pull her beneath the surface to a watery grave.  Drowning was a horrid thought to her.  
Her lungs choked off from oxygen as a fishes gills would be cut off from the water.  
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  Perhaps, she had an overactive 
imagination.  It had been said before, and she would never for get it.  
        Mulder touched her arm, making her jump slightly.  She had practically forgotten 
that he was there at all.  "They said you would be bringing a lot of your," he hunted 
for the correct word, but thought of nothing, "ghost hunting stuff."
        She nodded.  She was glad he hadn't noticed her jump. "Yeah.  I'm really 
interested in revealing this place as a hoax.  I'm going to need something to back my 
ideas up."
        "How does all that stuff work, anyway?  I'm not all that knowledgable with 
parapsychology or ghosts."  He smiled.  "I'll probably seem like an idiot."
        She shook her head, not even cracking a smile as he had hoped she would.  "I 
understand.  Most people don't even know the profession exists, and those that do 
usually don't believe a word of it."  She stared out the window and watched the 
scenery.  She hoped he wouldn't talk to her again.  She really didn't feel like talking at 
a time like this.  She was trying to formulate her thoughts into more than just a cloud 
of emotions and beliefs.  
        The car pulled to an abrupt stop as the driver groaned.  "Oh, God help you.  I go 
no further, ma'am."  He looked back over the seat at her and frowned.  His accent was 
thick, making it obvious that he was a native.
        "What?"  She looked out the window at the castle at least a mile up the road.  
"Do you see how far we are from the castle.  You can't possibly expect us to walk 
when you have a car right here!"
        "No further, ma'am."  He shook his head.  "Now, get out of my car."  He gave 
her a look that proved his utter seriousness with the entire situation.  He was going no 
closer to the house even if she held a gun to his head.  
        She stared into his eyes, searching for an answer.  She found such deep fear in 
his dark eyes that a shiver rolled down her spine like the waves rolling onto the cold 
shores.  She glanced at Mulder.  "Let's go."  She shrugged, hoping that Mulder had 
not noticed how fearful the driver appeared.  "I could use the excersise."
        He nodded.  He had noticed the look on the driver's face, and it gave him no 
comfort in a situation that he already felt gravely nervous about.  
        She opened the car door without thanking the driver for the ride and slammed the 
door tightly.  If it was one thing she could not stand, it was cowardice.  She had seen a 
fear in his eyes, but it you're not willing to face your fears, Sage felt no compassion.  
She always stood before her fears, summoning them to scoop her up and challenge 
her.  
        Mulder gave the driver a polite nod as he exited the vehicle even though he felt 
no thanks.  All he knew was that he was in no mood to walk a mile lugging his 
luggage with him.  
        As soon as they had their luggage and stepped away from the vehicle, the driver 
pulled away with a screech of tires and a wave of dust that covered them both.  Sage 
coughed as the dirty air entered her lungs.  "Nice guy."
        "Yeah, about as nice as an evil ghost."  
        She smiled.  "You have no idea." She actually enjoyed Mulder's comic approach 
to everything.  She was so used to working with stiff men that would never smile, 
never laugh, and certainly never joke.  It was a pleasant awakening for her to find a 
man with a sense of humor.  "You in the mood for a walk, Mulder?"
        He nodded sarcastically and lifted his single suitcase that he had decided to bring 
with him.  He glanced at Sage's hands.  She certainly was a light packer.  She had 
something that appeared to be a tightly packed overnight bag with her clothing in it.  
The bag in her other hand was considerably more immense.  It had to be her 
equipment to hunt their ghostly counterparts.  
        "Do you need me to carry that?"
        She gave him a look that revealed a thought of utter contempt.  "I can handle it 
just fine.  Thanks."  She began to pick up her walking pace after he had said this.  She 
hated when men tried to help her.  It was something she never let them do.  This 
simple fact was what had kept her on top of most of the men at her office on the 
economic scales.  They were almost afraid to help her unless she asked specifically 
for their help.
        Mulder shook his head and frowned.  She certainly was headstrong.  He had 
simply been trying to be a gentleman, and she had shoved him off as an asshole.  
Scully would have let him help her.  He shook off this thought.  Sage was nothing like 
Scully.  He had to stop comparing the two women.  He knew that by the end of the 
week, he would be glad to see Scully.  
        They both remained silent until they reached the house.  There was enough 
uncomfortableness between them to cover the entire country.  The house was 
immense.  Sage let out a tiny gasp at its tremendous size.  When she took a breath, she 
felt a thick foreboding flowing through her lungs.  The windows were completely 
dark except for a few scattered lamps allowing a trickle of light to wallow through the 
air.  Dense ivy covered the entire side of the house, hiding the ancient stones that 
formulated the structure.  The rest of the castle was a deep, dark, grey that was sturdy 
enough to hold out an army.  It was perfectly obvious that this gorgeous place was 
ancient, probably used by the town to gaurd off enemies on the coastal front in the 
times of war that the country had had to suffer through all those decades ago.  From 
where they stood, they could only see a few disseminated towers poking through the 
sky so tall that they appeared to be from heaven's gates.  
        Sage walked carefully up the steep staircase that led to the doors and glanced 
around her.  The door was immense and made of robust wood that must have stood 
there for centuries, awakening visitors to the amazing prescense that was obvious.  A 
tiny window glowed next to the door, inviting them into the castle.  She grasped the 
hefty knocker in her hands and threw it upon the door with force.  The sound echoed 
through the front hallway and up the stairs like a thunderclap covering the Earth.  
        "Nice and homey, huh?"
        Mulder nodded and glanced around the area.  The grass was completely dead all 
around the house, which surprised him.  They were right next to a loch, weren't they?  
What reason would the grass have for being dead on such rich soil?  
        The slight sound of tiny footsteps lingered in the darkness, signifying that 
someone was coming to answer the door for them.  "Who is it?"  A small, Scottish 
voice came toward them in the darkness like a murderer coming after a victim.  
        "It's Agent Sage and Agent Mulder.  We're here from the FBI to investigate the 
house."  She paused, awaiting an answer.  When she heard none, she pushed onward.  
"Is that you Mrs.  Holkovic?"
        The door opened slowly.  "Yes."  A woman dressed entirly in black stepped 
back.  Her eyes were red, and she was clinging tightly to a tiny hankercheif.  "Come 
in, please."  
        Sage smiled kindly as they stepped inside, trying to make the woman feel good 
about them being there.  "How are you doing, Mrs. Holkovic?"
        "Oh, call me Mae, dear.  Everyone else around town does."  She nodded and 
sniffed.  
        Mulder stepped in behind Sage and place his luggage on the floor quietly.  He 
did not want to disturb her.  He could see how emotional she was.  After all, she had 
just found her husband dead days before.  "I'm Agent Mulder, Mrs.  Holkovic."  He 
extended his hand to her.
        She smiled weakly and shook his hand.  "Hello."  She turned back to Sage.  
"That must make you Agent Sage."
        Sage nodded and glanced around the house.  She was sick of pretending to feel 
sorry for this woman she barely knew.  She was just excited to be there at the place 
where so many creepy things had supposedly happened.  
        "What kind of a hostess am I?"  She grinned gently.  "Would you like a little 
tour?"
        "I'd love one."  Sage stepped forward.  She was in the mood to be scared, and she 
had  a feeling that tonight would be one hell of a night..............
        The woman wiped her nose and nodded.  "Follow me."
        Mulder followed close behind Sage who followed close behind Mrs.  Holkovic.  
His thoughts were interupted by a worry for Mae.  What if they had been lying to her 
when they said they were agents from the FBI?  She would have no idea.  They could 
easily kill her and steal everything out of her house full of riches.  A trusting, old 
woman like her should not be left to live alone.  
        His mind was so far off that he almost didn't notice the quick movement to his 
left.  He froze and spun toward the painting on the wall.  He could have sworn that the 
eyes had moved.  The painting was a gorgeous portrayal of a woman that appeared to 
be no older than twenty with long, blonde hair and frail, thin bones.  It was true, her 
eyes did appear to follow you wherever you went.  But, Mulder had been so sure that 
her eyes had actually moved.  
        When Sage noticed that he was no longer behind her, she stopped and walked 
back to his side.  "Mulder?"  Mae had stopped and  commenced to wipe tears off of 
her cheeks.  "What is it?"
        His brow furrowed as he smiled.  "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
        She crossed her arms in front of her and stared at the painting.  "Try me."
        He threw her a look that showed something had just thoroughly surprised him.  
"Her eyes, they moved."  
        "They moved?"  She almost appeared to have true interest in what he was saying, 
but it didn't last.  "I'm thinking you've got yourself psyched out, Mulder."
        "That's what I was thinking, too.  Thanks for agreeing." He turned toward Mae.  
"Who is this a painting of?"
        She walked toward them and stopped inches away from the painting, squinting to 
see who it was.  "Oh, that's Adeline."
        "Adeline?"  Mulder heard in Sage's tone that she was interested in who this 
woman was.  
        "Yes."  She took a deep breath, as if readying herself to tell a good story.  "The 
main heir of the Stirling fortune, Joseph Stirling, had married an older woman as a 
young man.  It had been an arranged marriage because people did those sorts of things 
way back when this house belonged to Joseph.  He lived happily with his wife until he 
saw Adeline in the town square while he was out buying food.  She was such a 
beautiful woman, and all the men loved her even though it was rumored that she was 
totally insane.  People said she was everything from a witch to a ghoul reaking havoc 
on the towns people.  Of course, Joseph didn't believe a word of what they said.  
        "He began seeing Adeline more and more often until their relationship became 
an affair.  There were rumors that Adeline was pregnant with his child, but no child 
was ever given birth to.  Some say that she sacrificed it to Satan."  She smiled and 
shook her head.  "People will do anything for a good story these days.  Anyway, 
Adeline formulated a plan.  Joseph and she would run away and get married.  It was 
fullproof from her perspective.  Of course, Joseph didn't want to leave his presious 
castle.  He thought and thought of how they could get rid of his wife, but there was no 
way.  So, he stayed with her.
        "One night, he and his wife disappeared mysteriously and Adeline began living 
in the castle.  Of course, everyone thought that she had killed them both, but there was 
no evidence to support this.  She became to practice witchcraft more often, then.  
People began to notice.  She would have secret blood sacrifices in the woods and 
channel evil spirits into her soul.  Everyone was frightened of her because she was 
such a powerful woman.  
        "She went too far eventually, though.  She was found draining a cat of all his 
blood with her own teeth.  She was hung for witchcraft a day later.  A new family 
moved into the castle.  The house was truly cursed from then on, people say.  There 
are rumors that Adeline's tortured spirit still walks the halls, full of anger, full of evil."  
She smiled. "I think that's a bunch of hogwash, but you know people."  
        "What happened to Joseph and his wife?" Mulder pressed on.
        "Oh, well, I'm not finished yet."  She swallowed hard.  "A year later, the smell in 
the cellar was getting so strong that no one could go down there without becoming 
sick.  They uncovered those poor people in the walls of the cellar.  Their heads had 
been cut off, and there was no blood in their bodies.  They found at least ten people 
down there that had come up missing at some time or another.  They were all in the 
same condition as the couple.  Now, in one of Joseph's diaries, he reveals that he had 
bought Adeline and himself wedding rings already, but no one ever found them."
        Sage looked up at Mulder.  "Maybe that's what this," she cleared her throat, 
"ghost is after."  
        He looked down into her face.  The expression on her face made him feel like 
laughing.  He had to force himself to bite his lip to stop from bursting out laughing.  
He simply nodded and turned away from her before he lost control.  
        Suddenly, a door slammed directly behind them, causing the small group to jump 
in surprise.  
        Sage let out a harsh breath of air.  "Jesus."  
        Mulder stepped toward the door and opened it slowly.  "My thoughts exactly," 
he muttered to her over his shoulder.  "Has that ever happened before?" He turned 
toward Mae.
        She nodded and wiped her running nose.  "All the time.  You know these old 
places are awfully drafty.  You just need to get used to it."
        Sage nodded and touched Mulder's shoulder.  "I hope you're not expecting to 
sleep very much in a haunted house."  
        He laughed sarcastically.  "Thanks for the tip.  Would you mind showing us the 
murder scene?"
        Mae sobbed loudly at the word and fell into his arms, shaking violently.  She 
cried loudly into his shoulder.  Sage smiled at Mulder from behind Mae's back.  
"Good job," she mouthed and shook her head.  She was making him feel like an idiot 
on purpose, and he hated her for it.  She seemed to be happy making other people feel 
bad, and especially, Mulder.  
        After Mae's bought with sadness had ended, she had pointed the pair toward the 
room.  She would not dare to go toward it herself.  She gave them confusing 
directions and sent them on their way.  
        Once she was out of their hearing range, Sage turned to Mulder.  "Nice choice of 
words, Spooky."
        "Don't call me Spooky."
        "All right.  Nice choice of words, Mulder." She brushed a lock of her deep, black 
hair out of her eyes and quickened her pace up the hallway.
        "Well, what was I supposed to say?  I wanted to see the murder scene.  Don't 
treat me like an idiot, Sage.  I'm just as good of an agent as you are."
        "I never said you weren't." 
        "You were implying it."  
        "I said nothing."  They came upon a closed door with police tape holding it shut.  
The hallway appeared well traveled by many criminal investigators and police 
officers that had most likely cleaned the crime scene with soap and sponges.  "This 
must be the place."  She tried the doorknob, but the door was closed too tightly.  It 
was probably locked, which told them they would have to break into the room.  
"Great.  It's locked."
        Mulder stepped toward the door and tried the knob, too.  "I think I skimmed over 
this part of the FBI handbook." 
        "I don't think I knew the handbook existed."  She snapped her fingers, pretending 
to be disappointed.  "That's probably where my criminal side comes in."  She pulled 
out her wallet from the back of her jeans and took out a small bobby pin.
        "You've got to be kidding me.  You don't expect that to really work."
        "You're right.  I don't expect it to work.  I know it will work."  She put her wallet 
back into her back pocket and leaned toward the door.  
        He smiled and shook his head as she successfully picked the lock as if she had 
much experiance in this field.  "Dare I ask how you know how to do that?"
        "It's easy.  You just stick the end of the bobby pin into the whole until it bumps 
into the lock throw and push."  She shrugged her shoulders.  "They always make it 
seem so hard in movies."  She opened the door slowly and tried the switch.  The lamp 
in the corner came on, throwing a beam of light into the darkness of the room.  The 
crime scene had been carefully cleaned.  It almost appeared normal except for the 
small chalk outline above the fireplace and  in the chair.  The room smelled like a fire 
long extinguished, making Sage think of her aunt's house back in Virginia.  She 
frowned and stepped into the room so that Mulder could get a look.  
        He pointed toward the fireplace where the outline of a long, implement laid 
against the wall.  "The sword?"
        She nodded.
        "Back to the main question here, how did the old man get something that big 
down his throat without cutting himself up?"
        "Back to the main guess here, is the house haunted or not?"  She raised an 
eyebrow in his direction.  "Could it have been a setup?"
        "I spoke with some of the local law enforcement agents in the area over the 
phone, and they sure as hell sounded sincere about finding the knife in his stomach.  
The pointed end was in the base of his stomach, leading us to the conclusion that he 
swallowed it."
        "But there's no evidence of his swallowing it."  She finished his thoughts and 
nodded.  "I knew all of that already.  I read the report."  She poked around near the 
chair and took a deep breath.   "Look, Mulder." 
        He walked toward her and looked at what had caught her attention.  A small pool 
of blood had formulated on the nearby table.  
        "What's that from?"
        He shook his head. "I have no clue.  They would have cleaned that up if it had 
been here when they investigated the scene, wouldn't they?"
        She nodded.  "I'm sure of it.  They don't just leave blood samples at the scene.  It 
could belong to the murderer."
        "You still think this place is a hoax, don't you?"
        "I'm not so sure anymore, Mulder."  She pointed toward the ceiling.  There was a 
small circular area dyed red with blood.  Another drip from the ceiling fell and hit the 
tabletop, making Sage step back before it got onto her clothing.  
        Mulder backed toward the door.  "I say we go upstairs."  
        "Lead the way."  She followed close behind him as they hurried up another flight 
of stairs.  Sage kept glancing over her shoulder, trying to remember where they had 
come from so that they wouldn't get lost.  She was in no mood to wander the hallways 
of this immense castle all night.  
        Mulder turned the corner.  The upstairs was almost identical as the second floor 
area.  The rooms were situated in the exact same places, making it easy to find the 
area that was directly above the library.  He shoved inside and turned on the light.  
The room was small and simple with nothing inside of it except for a rather large bed 
in the corner and a lamp and nightstand next to the bed.  A beautiful carpet covered 
the area as they entered, but nothing was strange about the room in any way.  There 
was no place where blood would be soaking through the floor and into the second 
floor rooms.  There was nothing.  
        "Oh, there you are."  Mae's voice made them both jump at the sudden sound 
invading the silence.  "You'd been gone so long, I was afraid you'd got lost in this old 
place.  You never know what could happen to a person lost in such a place."  She 
glanced around the room and stepped back into the hallway.  She seemed almost 
fearful of the room, not wanting to enter.  
        "Is something wrong?"  Mulder was always one to notice a woman's pain.  He 
touched her elbow reassuringly.  
        "It's just that room.  I get such a terrible feeling when I'm in there."
        Sage stepped forward, not caring about the woman's strife.  "Why?"
        "That poor old Adeline killed Joseph and his wife in that room.  It used to be the 
couple's bedroom until their death."
        "They obviously wouldn't be needing it for much of anything once they're dead," 
Mulder whispered to Sage without Mae hearing her.  
        Sage had to smile.  Mulder was beginning to grow on her.  "So you're saying that 
it's a really haunted place?"
        Mae nodded.  "It gives me the creeps to just come up here by myself.  I just get a 
chill when I walk toward the room.  Don't you feel that?"
        They both had to nod.  There was a strange feeling in the entire hallway.  Sage 
stepped forward.  "I want to sleep in there."  She pointed toward the room and went 
toward the staircase without waiting for Mulder's or Mae's response.  She didn't want 
to hear their warnings.  She was going to prove the house as a hoax if it killed her.  
        
        Mulder sighed as he put everything down on the floor of the small room that he 
and Sage had to sleep in.  He would not allow her to sleep there alone.  A person 
never knew what might happen.  Besides that, he wanted to see a ghost, and he had a 
feeling that if he was with Sage the ghosts would find them before they could find the 
ghosts.   He sat on the foot of the bed and glanced around the room.  He did feel a 
slight chill as he sat there, but he thought that they could always just pump cold air 
into the room to make whoever was unfortunate enought to sleep there think that it 
was haunted.  
        He had just ran into the caretaker, Halbert Bostdorf, moments before entering the 
room.  He had come to welcome the pair to the castle.  He had been so happy that 
someone had come to try to solve the murder before anything else could happen.  He 
was obviously a strong believer in the haunted tails everyone passed around in town.  
Mulder had an odd suspicion toward the man.  Why was the caretaker living in a 
castle that he had to clean and care for?  
        She watched the man from the shadows.  When the two strangers had entered, 
she had heard their names.  He was Fox and the woman was Ruth.  That much she 
knew.  She was oddly attracted to the man.  He was tall and seemed quite charming.  
She had taken notice to his beautiful hands.  A man should always have beautiful and 
soft hands to hold a woman with.  He also had attractive lips that she would not mind 
kissing before the time came when he was to die.  She smiled and disappeared into the 
plaster when she heard the woman coming down the hall.  
        He smiled weakly as she entered. He had been trying his best all night to be kind 
to her, but she never wanted to accept his help of his charm.  "Where have you been?"
        "I was just setting up some equipment around the house to catch either our 
ghosts or our hoaxers."  She opened one of her suitcases and pulled out a small laptop 
that Mulder hadn't even noticed her having before now.  "I hooked everything up to 
my baby here so that if anything goes off, we'll know it.  I just have to hook up stuff 
for this room and I'll be finished for now."  She set the computer on the bed and 
reached into another bag that had been bulging with equipment only an hour earlier.  
Now, it looked like a balloon that had had its air let loose.  
        From the bag, she pulled out a few long peices of red paper that had long strings 
attached to the top of them.  She pulled them out and touched her finger against the 
side of one of them.  Her computer beaped immediatly, letting her know that the 
temperature strips actually worked.  There was no room for mistake that night.  
        Mulder leaned forward as he took off his jacket.  "What are those for?"  He felt 
terribly ignorant, but he knew in his heart that he shouldn't know what any of her 
equipment was anyway. 
        She turned toward him with no disgust on her face.  She understood that he was 
curious about what she was doing, so she might as well explain it to him the best that 
she could.  "These are called temperature strips.  You hand them from the ceiling and 
if there's a change in temperature in the room they're in, my computer lets me know."  
She turned her entire torso toward him and went on.  She really didn't mind 
explaining it to him.  "You see, with most ghost phenomenon, the temperature in a 
room either goes up or down rapidly and violently.  That's the most tell tale evidence 
of a ghost encounter.  If the temperature changes without any evidence that it should, 
you've probably been in the prescense of a ghost."She stood up and hung the stips in 
different places in the room.
        He nodded, actually interested in what she was saying.  He was just glad that she 
understood his curiousity instead of treating him like an idiot.  He watched as she 
pulled out the next peice of equipment.  It appeared to be some sort of camera, but it 
was different.   The lens was black, which surprised him.  What could a person see 
with a black lens?  
        She saw his question before he had to say it.  "It's an infrared motion sensor."  
When she saw the blank expression on his face, she elaborated.  "Well, you can't 
catch a ghost with a regular camera unless they want you to.  With this, you can 
surprise them.  The camera picks up heat or movement of heat in a human pattern.  If 
something moves, it shoots a picture before it knows what hit it.  I put these babies all 
over the house because it's these cameras that usually pick up ghosts or pick up 
fakes."  She set the camera down and turned toward her bag.  "Speaking of fakes, I set 
these around, too."  She held up the instand camera and smiled.  "I strung wires across 
the hallway and cameras in the direct path.  If someone hits the wire, the camera snaps 
and sends a direct picture to my IBM.  That way, the hoaxer can't steal the picture 
before I get to it."  
        He clapped his hands, jokingly. "I'm impressed.  You're obviously very 
experianced with this sort of thing."
        "What did you expect?  That I wouldn't be?"  She turned toward the camera and 
placed it in an area so that it covered the entire room except for the area they were 
going to sleep in.  She didn't want one of them to set off the sensors.  She then 
proceeded to place a wire across the door frame and the instant camera against the 
wall so that it was almost out of view for anyone entering the room.  "There."  She 
stood up and stretched like a cat before turning toward Mulder.  "I don't know about 
you, but I'm  awfully tired."  
        He nodded.  "I'll sleep on the floor."  He grabbed one of the pillows from the top 
of the bed and held it midair.
        She shook her head.  "In all seriousness, you're sleeping in the bed."  
        He was confused. "Then, where will you sleep?"
        "In the bed.  Look Mulder, it's strictly against the rules to sleep on the floor in a 
haunted house.  If you had really read my books, you would know that.  The ghosts, if 
they're here, can get to a person so much easier if they're on the floor.  You never 
know what could happen."  
        He went back in his memory to the time when he had read Sage's books.  She 
wasn't joking around.  He remembered the section, now.  It had stuck out in his mind.  
In the book, Sage had explained how one of her  clients had passed away when 
sleeping on the floor.  The poltergeist had levitated the child and lifted it directly into 
the ceiling fan.  Of course, Sage had thought of it more descriptivly that he had.  
When he looked up at her, he saw in her eyes that she was in no mood to lose 
someone else to the curse of sleeping on the floor.  He nodded.  "I remember.  Ceiling 
fan, right?"
        She nodded and shivered slightly at the thought.  That had been messy.  "I'm 
glad you remember.  I don't want to sound as if I was coming onto you or something."  
        "Exactly."  He was glad that he had remembered, too.  He didn't want her to be 
coming onto him.  She was not someone that he could ever get close to in that way, 
and he knew that.  She had way too much attitude for him.  
        She went behind him and pulled the covers down on the one side of the bed.  "I'll 
take the right side, if you don't mind.  I can reach the computer better."  
        He nodded, knowing that they both would not be sleeping very well.  He could 
feel the anxiousness in his stomach.  He could not wait to find something, and he 
knew that Sage's traps would catch something.  
        She laid down underneath the covers, fully clothed.  She knew that she would 
probably be jumping to her feet at any given moment after her computer began to 
scream its alarm into the darkness of the room.  She pointed toward the light switch. 
"Mulder?  Would you mind getting the lights before you turn in?"
        He nodded and walked toward the door.  
        She yelled out to him, "Watch the wire!"
        He stopped inches from it and sighed.  "Thanks for reminding me.  That 
probably would have set off everything in here." He reached out and flipped off the 
switch and made his way slowly toward the bed, careful not to make too much noise.  
Sage hid her face in her  pillow and closed her eyes.  She felt the bed shift slightly as 
he laid down next to her, but that was all.  She wasn't worried about anything 
happening between them.  She wasn't attracted to him, and she was pretty sure that he 
saw nothing but annoyance in her, not that she cared.  Besides that, she had an odd 
trust in him that she hadn't ever felt with anyone else.   She had a feeling that if she 
needed help, he would be there.  He was just such a solid person who seemed to not 
feel anything emotions wise, which could be good in the long run.  She didn't want 
him breaking down on her.  She wasn't one for sympathy, anyway.  After saying a 
quick prayer while clutching tightly to  the cross that hung around her neck, she 
closed her eyes and tried to get some rest.  
        Sage's system was too groggy to realize what had happened when the hollow 
flashing appeared.  She simply closed her eyes tighter and tighter until the light 
melted away into the darkness.             
        Mulder grabbed her arm and shook her gently.  He had been wide awake when 
the camera had falshed its warning.  Her computer was going wild with alarms and 
warnings, but Sage seemed far away from all this.  "Sage?  Wake up."
        She sat up suddenly, finally registering what all the noise was about and jumped 
to her feet in a mad rush to get to her computer.  She shut off the annoying buzzing 
sound it was making as an alarm and clicked into the program.  The infrared camera 
was the source of the light.  It had gone off when it had sensed a sudden movement in 
the darkness.  The temperature strips had also changed.  Instread of their normal red, 
they had changed to a deep blue.  
        Mulder appeared next to her with an interested look on his face.  "What is it?"
        She sighed loudly and typed wildly.  "The infrared camera and the temperature 
strips.  The instant didn't go off at all." She stood up and walked toward the light.  The 
room was filled with the hollow light from the lamp in an instant as they both made 
their way quickly toward the infrared camera.  
        Sage reached it first as a shiver went down her spine.  It was considerably colder 
in the room, meaning that the ghost might still be present.  She scooped the picture 
into her hands and stared at it with wide eyes.  Her jaw dropped slightly as she stared 
into the empty eyeholes of the woman in the picture.  
        She felt Mulder's hand on her elbow as he tried to get  a good look at the 
photograph.  He gasped softly at her side and stared at the picture in wonder.  The 
person in the photo looked frighteningly similar to the woman in the painting 
downstairs.  She had her long fingers gripping her cheeks so tightly that small rivers 
of blood rolled down her cheeks.  Her watchful eyes were torn out, violently by the 
look of it.  In their place, hollow eye sockets stared back at them, spurting blood all 
over the woman's long, blonde hair.  In the photo the area around her appeared to be 
brightly lit, but they both knew that the room had been completely darkened when the 
picture had been taken.  
        Mulder looked down at Sage.  "Now what?"
        She handed him the picture and hurried back to her computer.  "I'm just going to 
check the other sensors real quick to see if my guess is correct."  
        He stared at the dead eyes in the picture with white knuckles.  It was almost 
impossible to look away from the photo.  It almost hypnotized him even though it 
sickened him more than anyone could know.  He glanced back to Sage.  "What 
exactly is it that you're looking for?"
        "Ha!" She smiled at her victory.  "I knew it!"
        "Knew what?" He glanced back at the picture.  
        "None of the other sensors went off.  Only the ones in here changed at all."  She 
turned away from the computer.  "That could give this all away as a hoax."
        "I see.  You're saying that since the only activity was in here, it was planned.  
They only wanted to scare us instead of going to the trouble of having activity where 
there are no people."
        "Exactly!"  She was glad he understood, because she really didn't want to explain 
it to him further than she had to.  "I think we should move somewhere else."
        "And if the activity follows us, it's a hoax, right?"
        She nodded.  "You're catching on, Mulder.  Maybe you should have been a 
parapsychologist, after all."
        He grinned.  A drip hit his hand, sending a chill through his entire body.  He 
glanced at the hand holding the picture and gasped out loud.  A drop of blood stood 
out like black on white on his hand.  He dropped the photograph suddenly.  The blood 
could not possibly have from from there, could it?  
        "Are you okay, Mulder?" She stood up and hurried to his side.  She had 
evidentally noticed him jump.   She touched his shoulder gently, reading the worry on 
his face as if it was written there.  
        He nodded and stared at the picture on the floor.  Should he tell her?  "I'm fine.  I 
just........" He looked down at his hand.  The blood was gone!  Had he just imagined 
the entire thing because of the energized surroundings?  He shook it off.  "It's 
nothing."
        She nodded slowly and threw him a look.  She knew he was hiding something.  
Why else would he jump like he had?  She knew he probably was not the sort of man 
that was scared easily, but she could see by the look on his face that something had 
really made him panic.  She could also see that he didn't want to talk about it, so she 
let it slide.  She shrugged her shoulders and turned toward the doors.  "Look, I'm 
hungry. I say our next camp out sight should be in the kitchen."
        He turned toward her and nodded in agreement.  He had practically wiped the 
worry from his face.  She was sure that he was used to having to hide his feelings in 
situations.  He did not seem very open, but she didn't mind.  She had been around 
agents that never shut up, and by the end of her time with them, she thought they were 
true idiots no matter what their histories happened to be.  
        After grabbing her computer, she walked out into the hallway without waiting 
for Mulder.  
        "Sage!"
        "Yeah?"  She turned back toward him.  
        "I'm going to change.  I don't exactly love wearing dress pants and dress shirts."  
        She nodded.  She hadn't even thought about how uncomfortable he probably 
was.  She shut the door and waited in the hallway for him.  Glancing down at her own 
clothing, she could see why he would want to change.  She had changed before the 
flight into her black bellbottoms and black buttondown.  She was perfectly 
comfortable in her combat boots and home clothes.  She had even let her hair down 
for this case.  Mulder was the only other agent there.  Why should she worry about 
what she was wearing around him? He really didn't seem to care one bit about what 
she was wearing.  
        The door opened slowly as Mulder stepped out.  She gave him a quick look over.  
He had changed into jeans and a navy blue pullover with a  grey teeshirt underneath.  
He had even changed into some fashionable running shoes.  
        He smiled weakly.  "Much better."
        "Let's go searching for the food."  

        After searching unsucssessfully for a painstaking fourty-five minutes, they had 
literally stumbled upon the kitchen area.  It was an immense room that was almost 
impossible to miss-especially for FBI agents.  They had to walk through the immense 
dining hall before reaching the door to the kitchen.  
        The dining hall appeared to have been decorated in mid-eighteenth century 
designs.  The floor was rough, redwood beneath their feet.  The walls, the same brick 
that was found around the rest of the castle on the outside.  A colossal, crystal, 
chandelier hung from the ceiling like a dead man hanging on a rope.  It shined and 
glowed in the  little light in the dining area, throwing shards of rainbows around the 
walls.  The fireplace was large and antique with no marks that a fire ever was burnt 
inside of it's marble walls.  It was as clean as an immaculate white swan gliding 
across a crystal-clear lake with the mood rising on the horizon.  Paintings of attractive 
and rich people watched them from every corner of the room, their eyes appearing to 
move as the two occupants walked through the area.  
        Mulder held the door open for Sage as they reached the kitchen area.  It was as if 
they had walked through a time-warp!  The kitchen was completely twentieth century 
down to the black and white tiled floors and electric oven and microwaves.  Sage 
glanced toward Mulder, seeing that he understood what she was thinking.  This was a 
strange castle, and they both knew it.  
        Sage switched on the light switch and walked into the area as it was illuminated. 
Mulder jumped slightly at the sudden light.  He evidentally hadn't seen her reaching 
out to turn on the light.  "A little jumpy, Mulder?"
        He sighed.  "A little bit.  Aren't you?"
        She shook her head.  "It hasn't even gotten good yet.  You just wait until we see a 
real ghost.  Not something on film."  She threw extra emphasis on the word 
"something."  She made her way toward the refridgerator after putting her computer 
down on the countertop.  She opened it and smiled.  They both hadn't eaten anything 
on the flight over because they both had been known to get sick on flights, so she was 
starving.  She was so glad that something had awakened them.  That gave them a 
reason to make their way down to the kitchen.  She felt his presence behind her.
        "Oh, leftovers."
        "You like leftovers?"  
        "I'm a single guy, Sage.  I live on leftovers for God's sake."  
        She nodded.  "I understand.  I'm a single female, after all."
        "Don't like to cook?"  He reached into the refridgerater and pulled out a small 
carton of Chinese food with a smile on his face.  
        "Actually, I love to cook.  I just never have time to.  I guess it kind of comes 
with the job, huh?"  She reached in and pulled out a stalk of brocolli.  She held it to 
her nose and breathed it the thick smell of vegetables.  
        He nodded and turned toward the microwave.  He knew his way around the 
kitchen, which surprised her.  He probably never cooked anything but leftovers.  
        She glanced around the kitchen, and spotting a small table in the corner, she 
walked toward it.  She sat down with the brocolli and put her feet up on the edge of 
the table.  She kicked off her shoes and laid back in the chair.  She groaned and took a 
bite of the brocolli.  Her back ached after the day she had had.  She glanced at her 
fingers and frowned.  The only good thing she could think of was that they had 
thankfully caught the son of a bitch before he could kill someone else.  
        Mulder glanced toward her and noticed she was studying her fingers.  "Thank 
God for automatic garages, huh?"
        She looked up at him, surprised.  "You heard about that?"
        "Yeah."  He took the food out of the microwave and grabbed a fork out of the 
dishwasher in the corner before sitting down at the table.  "One of your little slaves 
told me about it."
        "One of my little slaves?" She was confused. 
        "At the crime scene, you sure seemed to be in charge, bossing everyone else 
around."  He took a small bite of the food to make sure it wasn't too old before he dug 
in.  "No offense."
        "Oh, none taken.  You're right, I'm bossy.  It's just that people really sit on their 
asses if someone doesn't yell at them to get to work.  I like keeping people on their 
toes.  I like surprising people.  It's fun being unpredictable."  She took another stalk of 
brocolli and crunched on it.  "I'm thinking you understand what I'm saying."
        "I'm Spooky Mulder.  Of course I know."  
        She frowned, reading the annoyance in his face.  "You don't like the nickname?"
        He shook his head and took another bite of his food.
        "Oh, I think it's fun."
        "It just gives people a picture into your head before they even know you, though.  
They judge too soon."  
        She leaned forward, letting her feet fall to the floor.  "Yeah, but in my case, 
they'll find out I'm spooky after they meet me, anyway.  It just gives them a chance to 
prepare."  
        He laughed out loud, surprising her slightly.  She hadn't heard him laugh in the 
time they had been together.  "It's nice to see you have a sense of humor behind all 
that spookiness."
        She had to smile.  "Oh, be quiet," she said jokingly.  
        After the laughter had subsided, an uncomfortable silence settled over them.  
They were strangers still, after all.  Sage had been on enough blind dates to know how 
to keep a conversation going, but Mulder was different.  He was very closed off, she 
could see.  She would have to pry to get anything out of him.  "So where are you 
origionally from, Mulder?"  She had to try to get something out of him.  
        He stared at the table for a moment without moving.  Sage could tell he was 
thinking about whether or not he wanted to share anything with her.  She could see a 
strange pain behind his eyes that she didn't like.  "Martha's Vineyard."  
        She nodded.  "It's gorgeous there."  She was sick of him beating around the bush 
with her.  He was hiding his history from her, and she didn't like it one bit.  There was 
a deep secret hidden behind his eyes, and she wanted to know what it was.  "What 
about family?"  She picked at another peice of brocolli as she watched him think over 
what to say next.  
        "I lived with my mom and dad and my sister, Samantha up until I was twelve."  
He sighed loudly and set the small carton of food on the table in front of him.  He had 
an immense weight on his shoulders, and it appeared he might just be about to hand it 
over to her.  "My sister was eight."  He scratched his nose, trying to hide the emotion 
that was behind what he was about to say.  "She disappeared one night out of our 
bedroom.  We never found her, and there was no contact with whoever took her.  She 
had just disappeared into thin air.  We never found her."
        She frowned, seeing that  he had just poured out his heart to someone he barely 
knew.  "I'm sorry."
        He broke out of his trance of sadness and looked up at her.  "You're really easy 
to talk to.  A little too easy actually." He leaned back in his seat.  "I don't usually tell 
people about that.  You got that out of me in about five minutes."  
        "I like talking with people."  She pulled back from the table and returned to her 
comfortable position.  "I can get almost anything out of a person if I really want to."  
        "Oh, wonderful.  I'll be watching myself around you.  You should really think 
about going into psychiatry."
        She laughed.  "I've got too many of my own demons to try to help other people.  
I'd probably really crack up!" Seeing the smile on his face, she pryed further.  "After 
your sister disappeared, what happened?"
        "Well, my parents divorced later on.  That was messy as hell.  I was too young to 
really understand all that was going on.  Anyway, we had one of those weekends with 
dad, weekdays with mom deals.  I was so glad to get to college where I was finally on 
my own where my parents couldn't get to me quite as much."  He seemed to become 
much more comfortable talking about his college years, and Sage was glad.  She was 
really opening him up.  "I got a scholorship to Oxford in psychology."
        "You really wanted to get away from your parents, didn't you?"  
        This brought a smile to his face.  "Exactly.  It was a plot to get away from my 
parents."  He nodded.  Sage was a witty person, and she wasn't as bad as he had 
origionally thought she was.  "College really got my mind off of everything 
happening at home, so I liked it there."
        "Break any hearts, Mulder?"  
        "Oh, a few.  I really had my nose too far into my books to notice."
        "I'm sure there were some."
        He smiled and went on with his tale.  "As soon as I graduated, the bureau came 
looking for me.  I joined up with the FBI later that year working in the VCS.  I just 
wrote profiles, and I didn't really enjoy that."
        "Really?  God, I love writing profiles."
        "You write profiles, too?"
        "Oh, hell yes.  That's one of my best features in the bureau!  That's how I got 
onto my last case.  I wrote a profile on the psychopath."
        "I had no idea you wrote profiles.  Of course, I knew you wrote, but not 
profiles."
        "We'll have to compare notes sometime."  She laid her chin on her hands.  "What 
about the X-Files?  It must be great to work on those."
        "Well, great isn't exactly the phrase.  It can be hard work.  Things can happen 
that don't always come out on the positive end.  But, you're right.  It's better than 
working for the VCS."
        "Oh, I'll bet."  She became sad suddenly, but tried he best to hide it from him.  "It 
kind of takes the realism out of the agony and suffering that everyday murders can 
bring."
        "Exactly."  He pretended that he hadn't noticed the sadness in her face.  "Now, 
it's your turn."
        "Excuse me?"
        "I told my story.  What about yours?"
        She sighed and looked up at him.  He seemed trustworthy to tell the real story of 
her childhood to, but she wasn't sure.  "You promise not to tell anyone about what I'm 
going to tell you?"
        He looked surprised at what she was asking, but he nodded.  "I won't tell anyone 
if you don't tell anyone what I told you."
        "It's a deal."  She sat back in her seat.  "I guess I should start at the beginning.  I 
grew up in New York City with my parents. I'm luckily an only child, because I have 
a feeling that if I had a sibling I would have killed it by now.  We were all so happy 
together." 
        Mulder saw her slipping away into the past by the look in her eyes.  
        "My dad would always take me outside and toss the football like I was a little 
boy or something.  My mother would always watch us from the kitchen and laugh 
whenever I came in with a black eye from catching the ball with my face.  She would 
always say, `Here comes my little girl with the head that catches more than her hands.'  
She always taunted me about that, but I didn't care one bit.  My dad really had wanted 
a son, so he was always saying how his little Ruthie was going to become a 
quarterback for some pro football team. 
        "On New Year's Eve when I was seven, though, my dad stopped dreaming about 
the future.  He and my mother were driving home from a late party.  Of course, they 
hadn't had anything to drink.  They never did, no matter what the occasion.  It was 
something they lived by, but it couldn't protect them as they had thought that it could.  
Other people drink, and other people drive."  She sighed gently.  "A drunk driver 
smashed into my mom's side of the car and killed her.  There was nothing left of her 
when the police came by.  She was just a big mass of mush.  
        "After that, everything was different.  My dad didn't play football with me 
anymore.  He even started drinking more and more.  He was just so mean, and he 
didn't care about anything but his drinks.  He didn't even go to my mom's funeral.  I 
had to get a taxi to go there since we didn't have any other family.  
        "Years went on like this.  He didn't care about anything.  He didn't work, and he 
didn't even talk to me.  When I was twelve, he killed himself.  He hung himself in the 
attic without even saying goodbye to me.  He was drunk when he died, they told me.  
I had grown up before I had a chance to even be a kid by then.  
        "I had gone to this great collegette prep school surrounded by rich kids that had 
paid their way there.  I was there on a scholorship because the only money I had was 
the money I had made writing for the newspaper every week.  That school let me 
graduate early because they said I was ready for college my junior year.  So, off to 
Duke I went with an English scholorship.  Duke got me interested in parapsychology.  
I also went there to study criminology."  She threw Mulder a smile.  "Close to 
psychology, but not so close that I have to counsel people.  So, I was recruited by the 
bureau at the age of twenty-two.  I did every sort of case I could find before I 
discovered that the bureau handled ghostly phenomenon.  I handled all of those cases 
with great success.  Soon I became known as someone who could spot a hoax a mile 
away.  I wrote my two books later on.  I still loved writing, and it was really 
something that I could just fade into.  Working with the bureau has been fun. 
        "By the time my books came out, you were already bringing contreversy to the 
bureau's underground.  So, people began to call me Ms. Spooky because of my similar 
interests.  Since then, I've been having fun chasing after ghosts and insane murderers." 
        "Lots of fun, Ms. Spooky."  He smiled weakly.  He could see that telling the 
story of her childhood had brought some lines to her face.  "I'm sorry about your 
parents.  That must have been awful for you."
        She nodded and clutched her cross tightly in her hands.  It was something she 
always did when she was nervous or uncomfortable with something.  
        He reached across the table, taking the necklace out of her hands.  "Scully has 
almost the exact same necklace." It was a small, gold cross with a thin, gold chain that 
shined in the light.  "You're religious, too, huh?" He let the necklace drop back to her 
neck and leaned back in his chair.  He folded his arms in front of him defensivly.  
        "Aren't you?"
        He shook his head.
        She laughed bluntly.  "Mulder, you believe in so many things that are out there.  
Why don't you believe in God?  I don't understand that."
        He frowned.  "God hasn't ever shown himself to me.  To be honest, he has done a 
lot to make me not believe in him."  He paused, thinking over how to phrase his next 
sentence without hurting her feelings or making her mad at him.  "God just seems a 
little too out there for me.  The thought that there is someone up there watching us and 
planning our lives is just insane.  I think I'll stick to Darwin's theory."
        She nodded, not wanting to defend her religion.  She knew it was useless.  "I've 
just seen so many things that make me believe in God and Jesus Christ.  Nothing 
could change my mind.  It's my faith that has kept me alive for so long."
        "You like danger, don't you, Sage?"
        She nodded.  "Very much so.  It gets my mind off of everything else going on.  It 
energizes me.  Besides, I know God will watch over me."
        He didn't want to go further with her.  Mulder had read enough accounts of 
danger loving people who are seriously depressed.  They jump into danger because 
they do not fear their own deaths.  They put themselves in dangers way to fill the hole 
of sadness that terrorizes them.  Mulder knew this tactic. Hell, he even lived by it 
himself.  
        "Look at us."  She laid her chin in her hands and frowned.  "We're quite the sob 
story.  We could write a book with the lives we've laid out for ourselves."
        He nodded in agreement.  "I know what you mean."  He yawned and laid his 
head on the table.  

        Sage blinked her eyes, awakening her system to their surroundings.  She groaned 
and sat up slowly.  Her neck was in knots!  They had both fallen asleep in the kitchen.  
They must have been really tired after their late evening.  She stretched her arms over 
her head and yawned in a hope to awaken herself from the sleepy cloak that was over 
her eyes.  
        Mulder sat with his head lying on the tabletop.  He didn't appear to have moved 
since last night when he had laid his head there.  
        "Mulder?" She shook his arm softly, trying to wake him gently.  He really was 
cute, but Sage wasn't attracted to him.  He reminded her of an annoying brother or 
cousin, but he was cute.  He had such young and boyish features.  His short, brown 
hair was falling across his brow gently hiding his forehead completely.  It was a 
stylish cut that looked good on him even when it hadn't been brushed.  She really 
liked his eyes.  They were so deep and hazel.  They sometimes even appeared blue if 
you looked at them the right way.  She had noticed that about his yesterday when they 
had first met.  Her first impression said that he had blue eyes, but upon closer 
inspection she had noticed the specks of green and brown that lined the edges.  They 
were pools that she often found herself drowning in when she spoke with him. There 
was so much pain behind his eyes, and she wasn't sure why.    He obviously held so 
much in just as she did.  Eyes say so much about a person, she thought to herself.  His 
drew you in and knocked you out with their intensity, their depth.  She loved his lips, 
too.  They just were begging to be touched, kissed.  They were perfect, just like the 
rest of him.  
        But Sage wasn't one to get into a relationship.  Besides, she didn't see Mulder 
that way.  He was cute, but he was certainly not dating material.  He hid too much.  
Besides, he had to be at least ten years her senior!  She wasn't sure if she liked his 
personality.  She didn't mind his jokes, because she made so many similar to his.  
They had the same sense of humor, dark and demented.  He was just too closed off for 
her, and at times, she wanted to just strangle him.  
        "Mulder, wake up!"  By the deepness of his slumber, she could tell that he 
probably hadn't slept for a long amount of time.  She shook his shoulder, gently and 
stood up.
        His eyes opened slowly, not wanting to arise to reality.  He sighed.  
        "You sound incredibly exasperated, Mulder.  Something wrong?"
        He shook his head and rubbed his forehead.  "Nothing.  I just didn't want to wake 
up yet."
        She grabbed his wrist and pulled it to her view, forcing him to stand up violently.  
She glanced at his watch.  She had taken hers off before coming down to the kitchen.  
"It's eight o'clock.  You got plenty of sleep."
        "I see you're a morning person."  He yawned. 
        "Not exactly.  But I am an insomniac.  You're lucky I went to sleep at all.  I'm 
not usually tired at all."
        He seemed surprised.  "Really?  I don't usually sleep very well either, but last 
night I felt like a zombie."
        "You looked kind of like one, too."  She couldn't stand to miss such an obvious 
and easy dig at this time in the morning.  She made her way toward the laptop 
computer on the counter and switched it on.  No alarms had awakened them.  She 
stared at the screen, waiting for it to fog to life.  It usually took a moment before the 
screen really kicked into gear, and she waited patiently for that moment to arrive.  
        "I hope we didn't miss any of the alarms.  We were both out like lights."  
        She shook her head.  "The alarms would still be going off if any of them were set 
off at all."  She typed madly at the keys as she searched through all her materials, 
finding nothing.  "Damn.  I was hoping that my suspicions about this place being a 
hoax were incorrect.  I was in the mood to be seriously haunted this week." 
        He smiled.  "Actually, that makes two of us.  I really thought that I might see 
something this time."
        "I assume by your use of the phrase `this time' that you've searched for ghosts 
before unsuccessfully?"
        "Well, unsuccessfully isn't really the word.  It's just that I've never seen anything 
that could be substantiated as ghostly phenomenon.  I was just hoping that I would see 
something that wasn't just my eyes or my imagination tricking me."  He sighed, 
unhappily and returned to the table.  
        Sage turned off her computer and frowned.  "That's too bad."
        A thought struck his mind.  "Did you put the food away?"
        She turned toward the table and glanced around the area.  Their food was no 
longer where it had been that night.  "No.  I just thought you had."
        He shook his head.  
        "I put your food away." They both jumped at the sound of Mae's voice from the 
doorway.  She laughed.  "Oh, I'm sorry, dear.  I didn't mean to scare you to death."  
She walked toward them, still clutching tightly to the hankercheif from the night 
before.  "I just came down to have some breakfast and you were both asleep.  You 
found something, I'm guessing?"
        Sage jumped to attention.  "Oh, yeah.  Maybe you should look at this."  Sage had 
stuffed the picture into the back pocket of her jeans after Mulder had dropped it on the 
floor.  She wanted to see Mae's reaction to it before they did anything.  Sage had been 
known to spot a liar a mile away simply from the looks on their faces.   She pulled out 
the photo and glanced at it before handing it over to Mae.  "Mulder, come look at 
this."
        He jumped to his feet, the panicked look on her face, making him feel a wave of 
dread.  Something was wrong.  He walked over to her quickly and grabbed the picture 
out of her hands.  "What the-"
        "Exactly what I was thinking."  She sighed and looked at the photograph again.  
It was completely white!  There was no woman, there was no blood.  It was as if they 
had imagined the entire thing, but they both knew they hadn't.  Mulder still felt the 
chill of the icy blood touching his skin!  She returned the picture to her pocket and 
frowned.       
        "What is it, dear?"
        "Nothing."  She wanted to change the subject immediatly.  "So, what's for 
breakfast?"
        
        Mulder glanced around at the beautifully set kitchen table and smiled at Sage.  
"This is much better than eating leftovers." 
        She had to smile.  He was thinking the exact same thing as she was.  The table 
was covered with food that only kings and queens were used to eating.  At one end, 
scrambled eggs in a golden platter with warm steam rising from their bright yellow 
surface, touching the sky.  At the other, carefully cut cantaloupes in the shapes of 
garden flowers opening in the early morning sunlight.  Even the cream for their coffee 
was calling a pure silver ladel it's home.  They were eating like the rich, and she was 
more than sure that the FBI didn't approve of such things.  But, Mae had almost 
forced them to sit and eat even though she didn't need to.   "I must say this is a little 
better than refridgerated brocolli and tap water."
        He nodded and took another sip of his coffee. Mulder wasn't a morning person, 
but once he had his caffeine, he could go on forever and a day.  
        Mae imerged from the kitchen with a smile on her face.  "How is everything?"
        "Wonderful, thank you.  I've never had such delicious food." Sage could see that 
Mulder was kissing up to gain the old woman's trust, but Sage had a feeling that they 
already had it after the way she was treating them.  They both knew it was easier to 
get the truth out of someone that liked the questioner, after all.
        "That's good."  She blushed slightly at the praise from such a young man.  Sage 
almost burst out laughing.  Mae obviously was under the impression that Mulder had 
a crush on her, but he wasn't aware of this.  He just went on painting a smile on his 
handsome face, trying to be kind to this old woman that reminded him of his mother 
in more ways than he could ever accept.  
        The older woman took a seat at the head of the table and grabbed a few of the 
sausages.  Sage winced in disgust. She was a strict vegetarian, and the small rolls of 
young, animal fat were making her sick beyond belief.  Mulder glanced up at her and 
looked concerned for a moment.  She mouthed the word `vegetarian,' and he nodded 
in understanding.  She noticed that he reached out and grabbed a sausage suddenly, 
and she smiled.  He was just like an older brother, making her sick purposly.  When 
Mae had turned toward the kitchen for a moment,  Sage tossed a small circular piece 
of cantaloupe at Mulder's head.  It hit him directly in the forehead and fell to the floor 
before Mae could notice.  They both burst out laughing suddenly, catching Mae by 
surprise.  She politely pretended to not notice how out of control they both were and 
continued to eat her food.  
        Once they were more under control, Sage turned toward Mae.  "So, if you don't 
mind me asking, have you ever seen a ghost, Mae?"
        "Me?  Oh, no.  At least, I don't think I have."
        "Then why do you believe the house is haunted?" 
        "Well, you can just feel the energy in here.  Actually, it's everywhere.  It's just 
this strong feeling that makes you almost dizzy at times.  You can't tell me that you 
don't feel it."
        Sage shook her head.  Mulder watched her carefully.  She was manipulating Mae 
in her hands like a piece of puddy.  "I haven't felt a thing.  Have you Agent Mulder?"
        He shook his head in agreement even though he had to admit that he had felt 
something.  He kept that to himself, though.  He still wasn't sure if Sage was lying or 
not, and he didn't want her to think he was completely insane.  Not yet, anyway.
        "Well, Mae, I'm hoping to find some evidence of the energy you've been feeling.  
I'm not certain, but I think that you might be energized about your husband's death.  
How long have you sensed this energy?"  She was switching from conversational to 
scientific in a matter of seconds.  
        "Oh, I've sensed it since we first moved into this old place.  I really love it here, 
but at times, I have to leave.  I can just feel the evil here."
        "Where do you sense the most evil?"
        "The room where the two of you slept last night, actually.  That place is always 
full of evil."
        Sage nodded.  She knew in her heart that she had felt that evil. She just didn't 
want to give this old woman the triumph of fooling them both.  Sage put much 
confidence on her instincts, but she usually needed more proof than just her feelings 
in cases like this.  Feelings weren't enough.  If she was energized enough, she could 
make herself feel anything.  "I see." Her scientific side switched back to 
conversational faster than Mulder could comprehend.  "Could you pass me the eggs, 
Mulder?"
        "Sure." He reached toward the eggs and handed them gently to Sage.  
        "Thanks."  She served herself a fairly small portion.  She never could eat a lot 
while on a case.  There was just too much on her mind for her to feel hungry very 
often.  She smiled kindly toward Mae even though she felt not a touch of kindness 
toward the woman.   "Would you like some, Mae?"
        She smiled.  "I'll take those, thank you."  
        Suddenly, Sage gasped as she felt the pressure pulling on the platter.  It floated 
out of her hands and toward Mae.  Sage threw another cantaloupe piece at Mulder, 
who wasn't looking.  He looked up in annoyance but soon his jaw dropped as he 
watched the heavy platter fly softly toward Mae's awaiting fingertips.  Sage threw him 
a glance of utter surprise and noticed she was holding her breath.  She exhaled 
suddenly and blinked twice as the platter arrived at its destination.  
        "You have telekenisis!"  Sage almost yelled at the old woman.
        Mae nodded slowly.  
        "Why didn't you tell me?"
        "Well, I really didn't think it meant anything.  I've had it since I was a little kid, 
so I'm just used to it.  Does it make a differance?"
        Sage wanted to elaborate, but she sat silently.  "Um, no." She picked up her 
empty glass that was obviously worth a great amount of money and threw it up high 
in the air.  
        Mae shrieked.  "Oh, no!" The glass stopped in the air and came to a gentle rest 
on the tabletop.  "That's a family heirloom!"
        "Sorry." Sage rose to her feet suddenly.  "Excuse me.  Mulder, could I have a 
word with you in the corridor?"
        He nodded and rose hurridly but stiffly from his seat.  He was still in shock over 
what had just occured.  He hadn't been prepared to see first a platter flying through the 
air, or second, Sage tossing a priceless peice of glass into the air.  She opened the door 
for him, and he stepped out into the cool air of the hallway.  
        He ran a nervous hand through his hair.  "What the hell were you doing?"
        "Shh, I was just making sure she wasn't a hoax.  When that platter went flying 
across the room, I had to be sure."
        He sighed.  "That was quite the scene in there."
        She smiled.  "Before you go totally insane, just listen to me.  Telekanisis has 
been known to cause things that appear to be ghostly happen in supposedly haunted 
places.  She could be doing the whole thing purposly."
        "Or, she might not know."  He finished her thought.
        "Exactly." She thought over things for a moment.  "The photo, though. How did 
she do that?"
        Mulder crossed his arms in front of him.  "Well, people with telekenisis has been 
known to have the ability to superimpose images on film.  All they have to do is think 
about an image and it appears on the film.  She could have been in our room.  We 
never did check it for passages in the walls.  These old places have plenty of those."
        "You really are just as smart as they say you are, aren't you, Agent Mulder?" She 
smiled slightly, happy that he had given her so much help with something that she had 
not been aware of prior to that morning.  "It looks like we have psychic phenomenon 
instead of ghost phenomenon."  
        "Let's hope so."  He crossed his arms in front of him.  He had a cold shiver for a 
moment, and he was glad Sage had noticed nothing.  If they had had a thermometer, 
they would have seen that the temperature in the hallway had just dropped six 
degrees.................................