Author's ramblings....
Well, here's another one. This one disturbed *me* when I was writing it so
I figured I'd warn you. There is at least one *very* disturbing scene and
the entire concept is disturbing but what the heck, it came out well.
Part of this story takes place *before* Mulder trips over the X-files so
keep that in mind.

    Thanks go out to MacWombat who helped me over some writer's block,
    I hope you like. My sister, aka Phenyx, who verbalized, succinctly,
    Mulder's change in character and also "boiling poultry". And also to
    the member's of my EMXC (E-mail X-creative Club) who patiently waited
    through serious delays waiting for stories while I was lost in writing
    this. Any comments, praise or flames should be directed towards me so
    please... let me know what you think!

As always: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and "The X-Files" are property of Chris
Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and 20th Television/Fox Broadcasting. All
characters used without permission and no (I repeat, NO) infringement is
intended.

			The Fox and the Howned
			by. K. D. Enriquez (SciNut@aol.com)
				12/11/94        
			Part two.

***

  Mulder turned the corner first and bumped into a wall of a man.
Barely shorter than Mulder, the man was solidly built with dark hair,
dark eyes and an army tattoo on his right forearm.
  "Sorry 'bout that," the man said moving out of the way.
  "That's Todd Howned, the school janitor," VanHuess offered. "Todd these
are the two FBI agents who are looking into the kids' disappearances."
  "Oh," Todd answered. "Well it's about time. Those poor kids... and the
police not being able to do anything."
  Something in the man's tone set off bells in Mulder's head. It was a
subtle emphases on a couple of the words. Mulder wondered if Reggie had
heard it.
  Mulder stuck out a hand, "I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder and this is
Reggie Pardue."
  Todd shook his hand firmly. "Fox, huh. Cool name."
  Mulder involuntarily took a small step backwards. Something was wrong.
All his inner alarms were going off. This guy scared him even though he
seemed very pleasant. Mulder gave the guy another once over.
  Todd Howned was dressed in blue coveralls that were typical with
janitorial work. He stood, rather relaxed, in front of a mop bucket which,
mysteriously, had no mop. His boots were a worn and faded shade of black.
He looked like the type of man who'd wear lots of gold chains but instead
had a gaudy pink thing, that looked like it was made of plastic, around his
neck. At the end of the 'necklace' hung a flat charm with a sticker of a
unicorn stuck slightly uneven on it's surface.
  "It's from my niece." Todd said fingering the charm. "She gave it to me
for Christmas last year. She made me promise to wear it all the time. The
little girl is just precious."
  Mulder smiled, "I'm sure she is." For some reason Mulder couldn't shake
the uneasy feeling that settled over him. "What's the tattoo from?"
  Todd glanced at his arm. "Vietnam," he said but offered no more than that.
  
***

  <When did I pass out?> Mulder thought to himself as he returned to
consciousness. He slowly opened his left eye while his right had swollen
painfully shut. <Where am I? What happened?> The memory slowly returned
and he felt an uneasiness surface at the speed in which it had taken.
He knew he had a bad concussion with the black outs and short memory
losses. He needed a hospital and he thought, as the right side of his face
pulsed, badly.
  "'Bout time you woke up again," he heard Howned say from behind him.
"This won't be very enjoyable for me if you can't stay awake."
  "Sorry," Mulder croaked through split and swollen lips.
  "Oh, that's okay." He offered cheerily as he walked to stand in front
of Mulder and patted the injured side of Mulder's face causing his head to
explode with little spots. Consciousness wavered and Mulder unsteadily
fought to stay awake.
  "What do you want?" Mulder asked after the pounding subsided.
  Todd turned cold eyes toward him, "Revenge, of course. I want the Hunt
back but first, I want you to feel what I had to feel in that pit of Hell
you call Greenside. Agent Pardue as well. Where is he anyway? I couldn't
find him."
  "He's dead," Mulder offered weakly as consciousness again threatened
to leave him.
  "Oh," Todd said sounding disappointed. "Well, that puts a little cramp
in my plans. I can't have a Hunt unless there's someone to chase and be
chased by now can I?" He sighed and sank into a chair across from Mulder.
"Well, I'll have to change my plans then. But first, the fun part."
  Mulder followed Todd with his eye as Todd bounded to his feet and crossed
to a cabinet along the wall. The room was only about ten by twelve and
Mulder didn't see any windows.
  Todd walked back over to him holding a syringe.
  "What's that?" Mulder asked nervously.
  "Unfortunately, not Thorzine. Do you realize how hard it is to get a
hold of that stuff?"
  "What is it?" Mulder repeated.
  "Well, in Greenside, they gave me Thorzine. I wanted to give you Thorzine
too but I couldn't find any. But, I'm told this has some of the same affects
and will work just as well. It's a lot easier to get, too." He bent over
Mulder's left arm and slipped the needle into his skin.
  "What is it?" Mulder asked again fear beginning to grip him.
  "Heroine," Todd answered with a self-satisfied gleam in his eyes as he
pushed down the plunger.

***

  "So, Mulder, any thoughts?" Reggie asked from across the table.
  They had gone to a diner after they had left the school. It was an
ancient, battle scared place but still served good food.
  Mulder sipped at his coffee. "The kids were taken in broad daylight
without anyone seeing anything. I think it's someone on staff."
  Reggie smiled to himself. The kid was good. "And why do you think that?"
  "Kids are too observant not to notice a stranger and none of them saw
anyone who didn't belong there. But someone who works at the school wouldn't
be considered out of place or out of the ordinary."
  Reggie nodded in agreement. After all, he'd already come to that
conclusion as well. "Any suspects?" This was the question that Reggie
really wanted to hear an answer for. Mulder always saw more than anyone
else. He picked up on the subtleties that even Reggie missed.
  "Well," Mulder paused. He had an entire list of suspects and decided to
narrow them down. "One would be the principal, VanHuess. He was just a
little too nervous I think."
  "Yeah, his hands were a little too sweaty."
  Mulder smiled, "You decide on suspects by how sweaty their palms are?"
  Reggie shrugged, "Everyone has their own methods. Any others?"
  "The janitor, Howned."
  "Why?" Reggie asked. He didn't think Howned was all that suspicious.
  Mulder shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. He just rubs me the wrong
way... I can't explain it. He..." Mulder trailed off.
  "He what?" Reggie prompted.
  Mulder sighed, clearly uncomfortable discussing this. "I don't know...
he scares me."
  "What about Durren?" Reggie asked changing the subject. He was
unwilling to push Mulder into conclusions. Mulder could come up with good
ones given a little time. Besides, Reggie hated to see him squirm.
  "The P.E. teacher?" Mulder shook his head.
  "Why not?"
  "He doesn't seem the type." Mulder answered.
  Reggie laughed, "Not the type? Just what is the type? The nice, quite
boy next door?"
  Mulder smiled. "That did sound silly, didn't it?" He paused. "I don't
know. It's like with the janitor... it just doesn't *feel* right."
  "Okay. Anyone else?" Reggie asked excepting the explanation for now.
He agreed Mulder could be 'spooky' at times but no one else had his
insight. Reggie guessed that was probably how the stupid nickname had come
about.
  Mulder thought, silently, for a few minutes before shaking his head.
"I want to talk to the last girl's family, though. 'Nothing' has turned up
yet and we could get lucky. This one might not be connected."
  "Alright," Reggie agreed even though he knew better. Mulder was still
'green' and he'd grow out of that kind of 'hope' soon enough.

***

  Scully shut the profile, disgusted. <How could anyone do that?> she asked
herself. Mulder had begun the profile by calling Todd Howned evil. Scully
had thought, at the time, the opening sounded a little too emotional and
spontaneous coming from Mulder.
  As she read further, however, Mulder had clinically and logically
described what evil was and used Howned's actions as his model. He had
backed everything up with strong evidence including his own eye witness
account that still left her a little weak to her stomach.
  By all rights, Todd Howned should have fried in the electric chair.
However, as she dug further into the case file, Howned's defence attorney
had gotten the consultation of a 'more experienced and 'more reliable'
psychiatrist. This psychiatrist had, supposably, interviewed Howned and
had him declared 'incompetent to stand trial'. Howned had been locked away
at the Greenside Mental Institution.
  Scully opened Mulder's profile again.
  "...Todd Howned served two tours of duty with the 101st Airborne Division
of the U.S. Army during the Vietnam war. According to Howned, during my
interview, he found a growing lust for violence. While most soldiers face
this same blood lust during battle, Howned confessed that he enjoyed the
'sport' of 'hunting' the enemy more than the 'kill'. Though he does agree
to have felt a certain degree of fulfillment at the act.
  "Upon his return to the States, Howned attempted to relive the 'Hunt',
as he calls it, by going on camping trips and hunting deer and quail. When
this approach failed to have the desired affect, Howned resorted to a more
violent method.
  "According to Howned, his first real 'kill' was a vagrant in 1981. Since
then, he states that he scheduled a 'Hunting season' for himself to
coincide with deer season. Thus making his killings less conspicuous..."
  Scully shook her head. Howned sounded perfectly aware of his actions to
her. But, since Mulder had been an agent with less than three months
experience and just off the Barnett case, the judge had listened to the
'qualified expert witness' for the defense. She felt herself grow angry
at the miscarriage of justice.
  <Mulder,> she asked him silently. <Where would he take you?>
  
***

  For the first time, in what seemed like an eternity, Mulder returned to
consciousness without pain. In fact, he was feeling damn good. Nothing
hurt and, with the exception of a little weakness, he felt like dancing a
little jig.
  <Jeez, Mulder,> he chided himself. <You are so freaking high the space
shuttle is jealous.>
  He attempted, somewhat unsuccessfully, to stifle a giggle. For one,
the thought wasn't quite that funny. Secondly, he didn't think he was the
type of person that would giggle.
  Mulder suddenly found himself wondering what he'd thought was so funny
in the first place. He inhaled deeply. He was finding it harder and harder
to get a lung full of air. <How much did he give me?> Mulder thought to
himself and quickly felt the coherent question slip away. Between the
concussion and the heroine it was impossible to think straight.
  "Well, good morning again, Fox," Mulder heard a voice say.
  "'Mornin'," Mulder slurred. He had a strange feeling that the source of
the voice was important but he couldn't remember. He leaned his head back.
He was really starting to feel weird.
  "And how do you feel today?" The voice asked pleasantly conversational.
  Mulder thought about the question for a second before answering. "Fine,
I think."
  "You think? You're not sure?" There was a pause. "Perhaps we should
discuss this a little further, don't you?"
  Mulder was momentarily confused. There were too many questions, too fast.
He couldn't concentrate. "I... my head hurts." He finally answered and
realized that it *did* hurt and it was getting more and more painful.
He started to wince and stopped as a streak of fire raced across his face.
Then, Mulder felt a stinging in his arm and a soothing warmth spread
through his body easing the pain. He let his head slump to one side as a
numbness settled over him.
  "Sorry 'bout that," the voice said apologetically. "Your medication
started to wear off there. I'll have to keep a closer eye on the time.
So... where were we?"
  Mulder lifted a shoulder in a shrug.
  "WAKE UP!" The voice shouted suddenly.
  Mulder didn't feel the blow that nearly broke his jaw, but the taste of
blood in his mouth brought his memory back.
  "What do you want from me?" Mulder asked weakly.
  "Hey!" Howned shrieked. "I ask the questions here!"
  "Why don't you just kill me and get it over with," Mulder responded,
proud that his drug fogged brain got all the words out.
  The cold stare Todd turned on him made his stomach turn. "Oh," Todd
said too quietly. "The patient is not cooperating. That does not bode well
for his treatment."
  Mulder watched as Todd walked to the cabinet again. He returned with what
looked like a car battery and a set of jumper cables.
  Mulder closed his eyes and forced his brain to think but to no avail.
"What's that for?" He asked, not really sure he wanted to know.
  "I saw this done in a movie once," Todd answered with a grin. "Time for
shock therapy."

***

  "Are you sure you want to do this, Mulder?" Reggie asked him as they
approached the front door.
  "Yes... absolutely." He replied as he raised his hand to knock.
  "What do you hope to find by interrogating this poor girl's parents?"
  "I don't know... maybe the suspect has been stalking her. Maybe they
saw something?" Mulder asked rapping lightly on the solid wooden door.
A slightly disheveled woman answered. She was attractive even though
dark circles marked the skin below her red rimmed eyes. She sniffled and
wiped her nose with a tissue. "Excuse me, please," She said gesturing to
her rumpled state. "May I help you?"
  Mulder shook his head at her apology and withdrew his ID. "Special
Agent Fox Mulder, FBI." He paused, allowing her to get over her shock.
"I'm very sorry, Ms. Mason, but I was hoping that you could answer a few
questions?"
  She wiped at her nose again before opening the door wider and allowing
the two agents to enter the house.
  "Thank you," Mulder said stepping through the door. "This is Agent
Reggie Pardue."
  Ms. Mason nodded and shook both their hands, "Please, sit. Can I get you
anything? Coffee?"
  "No, thank you, we're both fine." Reggie replied.
  "Ms. Mason," Mulder began lightly. "Before your daughter disappeared,
did you notice anyone near the house? Maybe walking up and down the street?"
  Ms. Mason thought about it for a few seconds. "Not that I recall, why?"
  Mulder crossed the room to a fireplace with photographs aligning the
mantle.
  "We thought maybe the suspect might have be stalking the kids before
taking them," Reggie offered.
  "Have..."she paused collecting her courage."Have you found anything yet?"
  Mulder felt his heart turn in pity for this woman. She had no illusions
about the fate of her recently missing daughter. She knew her daughter would
never be *entirely* found and the look in her eyes was one of wishfulness.
Wishfulness that she'd soon be able to put her daughter to rest. Mulder
wondered if he would ever be that strong.
  "No, nothing yet," He heard Reggie answer as he turned to look at the
pictures.
  Mulder's gaze was drawn to one picture especially. A young blonde hair
girl smiled out at him. He knew from the police report that Jennifer Mason
had only been six years old but the picture that stared at him looked much
younger. Her shoulder length hair curled around her neck and ice blue eyes
seemed to bore into his soul.
  Again, Mulder felt an uneasiness surface. There was something in the
picture that was important and he stared clinically at the figure. Reggie
and Ms. Mason's conversation faded into the background.
  "Oh my God," Mulder whispered drawing Reggie's attention.
  "What is it?" Reggie asked coming up behind Mulder.
  Mulder pointed at the picture, his finger brushing the glass.
  There, in the picture, hanging around Jennifer Mason's neck, was a
pink plastic necklace with a unicorn stuck unevenly on the surface of
it's charm.

***

  Scully sat, staring at a map of Washington DC. She had forgotten how long
she had been sitting there, thinking.
  Todd Howned lived for the Hunt. Mulder had stated that fact over and over
in his profile. The hard part now was to decided where he had gone. She
had to keep in mind this guy's thrill of the chase. <Well,> she thought.
<What do hunters do?>
  They hunt, the other half of her, that always pointed out the obvious,
answered.
  <After that, moron,> she scolded. <After they've had a romp in the
forest, where do hunters go?>
  Well, her father had always gone to a lodge or a bar with his friends.
  <Bingo! You've hit the Jackpot!> Mulder's voice added in her mind.
  She shook her head. Maybe she *did* need a vacation.
  "Hey," she called to the nearest officer. "Can you get me a list of bars
that have shut down in the last couple of weeks?"
  "Sure thing," the officer replied bounding to his feet.
  He returned several minutes later with a printout. Scully took it from
him and began to scan the names.
  "Hey, why'd this one close?" She asked the officer who had been reading
over her shoulder. "It's called 'The Huntsmen'?"
  "A health code violation." He offered. "Something about dead cats, I
think."
  She checked it's location on the map of DC. "The Huntsmen" was near
where Howned had forced Scully out of the car. In fact, it was only about
two blocks south of the police station.
  "You think that's where this guy has your partner?" The officer asked.
  "Pretty sure, Officer..." she glanced at his name tag, "...Burke. Let's
get everyone suited up and over there."

***

  Mulder pulled the car to a stop by the curb in front of the small house
rented by Todd Howned. He reached inside his jacket and checked that both
his gun and the search warrant were still where he'd left them.
  As he stepped out of the car, he felt all his senses sharpen as adrenalin
began to pump through his body. He made his way up the walk to the front
door with Reggie right behind him. Other police cars began to pull up to the
house, their officers pouring onto the street.
  Mulder knocked on the door as the police brought up the 'door opener',
a huge steel ram that brought doors down with little trouble. Silence
answered Mulder's knock.
  "Todd Howned," Mulder called at the door. "This is the FBI, we have a
search warrant. Open the door."
  Mulder motioned at the door and the police broke it down with no effort.
They entered the house and began to search the first floor.
  Mulder eased into the kitchen, glanced around and froze in his tracks in
shock.
  Several pots were boiling on the stove. The aroma that drifted out and
filled the kitchen reminded Mulder of boiling poultry. But the sight that
greeted him made his stomach turn and he fought down the urge to vomit.
  Todd Howned stood behind a cutting table whistling while he dismembered
the body of Jennifer Mason. He was calmly de-boning the thigh and placing
the flesh into the boiling pots of water on the stove when he spotted Mulder
in the door way.
  Abruptly, the whistling stopped and Howned harrumphed in disappointment.
"Well, I guess Hunting season is over for the year, isn't it?"
  Mulder stared, horrified, over the barrel of his gun that he pointed at
Howned's chest. He nodded slowly. He heard an officer behind him retch.
  "You know, you could've waited 'till after dinner," Howned remarked
putting down the butcher knife and pointing to the pots on the stove. He
picked up a strip of bloody meat, popped it into his mouth and began to
chew. "Mm... this one's good. Can I just fry this up and take it with me?"
  Mulder shook his head, slowly, unable to look away from Howned's deranged
eyes.
  Howned sighed. "Alright, just let me wash my hands before we go.
'Cleanliness is next to Godliness' you know."

***

  Mulder awoke to a semi-lucid state of consciousness. He could feel the
skin on his chest beginning to blister from the electrical burns inflicted
by the car battery. It was a pain that the injections of heroine couldn't
quite mask. In a strange way, he was thankful for the heroine. He wasn't
sure how much pain he'd be in otherwise and the amount he was feeling now
was quite enough. It hurt to think. It hurt to move. It had begun to hurt to
breathe.
  A chill draft blew across his hypersensitive skin and he shivered
involuntarily causing all kinds of new pain to shoot up his body. The
shivering turned into small convulsions and he began to whimper in pain.
His head throbbed and all memory of why he hurt, how he hurt, where he was
and what had happened fled. All he knew was that *everything* hurt.
  He heard a voice but could not be sure if it was addressing him. It was
vaguely familiar and sounded slurred to his ears. He couldn't make out what
it was saying and it hurt too much to concentrate on the sound in order to
figure out what it was.
  Then he realized he didn't care who was speaking. For a reason he
couldn't remember, he didn't want to know who it was. He didn't want to
feel this pain anymore. So Mulder gave in willingly, once more, to
unconsciousness.

***

  "Mulder?" Scully said worriedly as she stared at his convulsing form.
He was strapped to a metal folding chair with duct tape. The right side of
his face was completely swollen with a nasty laceration above his right eye.
His shirt had been unbuttoned and hung from his shoulders giving her a clear
view of the dozen or so large, red, blistering burns that dotted his chest.
As well as the ugly black and blue patch that suggested broken ribs.
  She shone her pen light into his left eye. The pupil was dilated and
barely responded to the light. He was going into shock and she covered him
with the blanket Officer Burke handed her. She briefly considered cutting
him out of the duct tape but decided it would be safer for him to stay
confined until the paramedics arrived and made the convulsions subside.
  Scully could hear the sirens wailing in the distance as well as other
police and FBI searching the condemned "Huntsmen" bar. The sirens began
to grow louder and she urged them to arrive faster.
  Mulder's left arm jerked weakly and she noticed several puncture marks
dotting his inner elbow and forearm.
  "Officer Burke," Scully called hurriedly. "Look around, Mulder's been
injected with something and the paramedics are going to need to know what
it was."
  She heard the EMS unit pull up outside and she went out to hurry them
inside.
  As the paramedics went to work on him, Officer Burke approached Scully.
"I think it was heroine." He said from behind her.
  She turned to see him holding most of the material needed to have 'a good
time'.
  "Oh, Jesus, Mulder," she whispered as the paramedics strapped him to a
gurney and took him out to the ambulance.

***

  Mulder came to three days later in the Intensive Care ward of a hospital.
He blinked in confusion, <How the hell did I get here?>
  His mouth was dry and his throat felt like sandpaper. He tried moving but
realized he didn't have the strength for it. And he felt... warm. He
remembered being extremely cold before but couldn't remember where.
  He was completely numb, though he was beginning to feel the early stages
of a massive migraine. He shut his eyes tightly against a slight throbbing
that had started.
  He heard a door open and recognized two distinctive feminine voices.
  "When?" He heard Scully ask with a mixture of concern and relief.
  "Just a couple of minutes ago," a voice answered that sounded like
Scully's mother, Margaret.
  Scully came into his line of sight. "Mulder?" She asked worriedly.
  His first attempt at speaking failed. He licked his dry lips and
finally whispered, "Where am I?"
  Scully sighed relieved as her mother put her hand on Scully's
shoulder. "You're in the hospital, Mulder. Again."
  He closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness hit him.
  "How you feeling?"
  He took a breath and pushed down the nausea. "My head hurts and I feel
like I'm gonna be sick..." His voice trailed off weakly.
  "You sustained a skull fracture, Mulder. Just don't move around too much
and I'll call the doctor." Scully turned but her mother was already on her
way out the door. She looked back to Mulder.
  He was looking a little green around the gills, but that would
eventually pass. There was a white gauze bandage that covered the
seventeen stitches above his right eye. Hopefully, he wouldn't scar too
badly. Plus, the doctor had said that the three broken ribs were knitting
well. But it had been the skull fracture that had everyone worried.
  Just then, the doctor walked into the room. "Good, you're awake. Now
we can see how bad the fracture was," he said picking up the chart at the
end of the bed. "My name is Doctor Ryan Johnson... Do you remember what
happened?"
  Scully watched as fear and pain entered his eyes before he answered
quietly, "Yes."
  "Do you know the assailant's name?"
  "Todd Howned," he croaked.
  "Do you know what he injected you with?"
  Mulder paused before answering, "He... he was upset at not having
Thorzine but I don't really remember what he did give me."
  Dr. Johnson sighed. "This is important, Mr. Mulder. Howned gave you
heroine and because we don't want to risk any kind of chemical dependance
we are going to have to limit the amount of pain killers we give you.
You can heal without them. As soon as the medication we used to sedate
you wears off you will, no doubt, suffer withdrawal. Just a warning, try
not to shout at the nurses, they're being nasty today. Do you know what
the burns are from?"
  Mulder sighed, weakly."I have a vague memory of a pair of jumper cables."
  The doctor nodded. "Good. There doesn't seem to be any brain damage.
The slight memory loss is normal, under the circumstances, but I'm going
to order another CAT scan anyway. We'll move you to another room and keep
you until Thursday for observation, but I think the fracture will heal fine
on it's own." He stood and wrote something in the chart. "I'll be back in
a little while to check up on you."
  Silence decended in the room following the doctor's departure. Mulder lay
with his eyes closed, looking too pale. Several minutes passed and Scully
thought he'd drifted back to sleep.
  She began to make her way towards the door when she heard him whisper,
"Where is he?"
  "Who?" Scully asked, a little startled.
  Eyes still closed, he repeated, "Where's Howned?"
  "I don't know, Mulder." She answered. "He wasn't there when we arrived.
He's gone."
  Mulder opened his eyes and slowly turned his head towards her.
  "Get some more rest, Mulder." She said. "I'll see you later."
  Mulder watched her leave. Get more rest, she says. Sure, he thought,
he'd need it. He had a feeling that Todd Howned was willing to wait.

The End.
(or is it?)

End Notes:

  Yes, I am working on a second part which is tentively titled "The Hunt".
I'm trying to think of a suitable end for Todd Howned. I'm not quite sure
I made him 'nuts' enough, though I'm pretty sure I got close. I do sort of
have a working outline and I may have it finished by the end of next month...
we'll see.
I hope you liked it... email me your thoughts, comments.... whatever.
-SciNut(o'tay!)
