Chapter Text
Jon took another drag off his cigarette and turned up the radio. He was trying desperately to stay awake, but was sure he would have to pull over soon. He had class in the morning, but he was going to cause an accident if he didn’t have a nap. It was 2 in the morning, it was drizzling and he was in the middle of nowhere.
Jon cursed himself for staying for dinner at his girlfriend’s. Well, dinner, then sex. That’s how he had managed to get on the road at 8:45 for a seven hour drive. He’d been chain smoking and guzzling gas station coffee for hours. Up ahead, he saw a sign for some place called Pleasantview. He pulled into the long driveway, looking for a spot to park. His headlights splashed across a crumbling brick building. The whole place looked like something out of a slasher flick. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, fighting his feeling of dread when a light turned on in an upstairs window.
———
“Jonathan Ross, found on the grass in front of the Pleasantview medical facility. Victim was found this morning by a security guard.” Scully pursed her lips. “I feel like there’s something not in this file that would make this an X Files.”
“There’s been three other unexplained deaths in the past two years within a mile of the Pleasantview facility. A 23-year old woman was found in the forest behind it, dead from an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound. A 47-year old man was found in a pond on the property, cause of death was undetermined because of the state of the body. A 31-year old man was found in the trunk of his car, parked out front. He had enough heroin in his system that it could have been an overdose but his throat was slashed.” Mulder flicked on his turn signal. “Here we are.”
The hospital loomed in the background. It had mostly stopped raining, but the air was still damp and thick. A part of the front lawn was taped off, a handful of cops standing around, drinking coffee. They flashed their badges at the closest officer.
“You Feds must travel in packs. Your buddies are over there.” The cop waved at two men crouched next the body.
Mulder and Scully exchanged a look, and slid under the tape. The men noticed them approaching and stood; they both wore black suits and ties. There was something that rubbed Scully the wrong way. The way they held themselves, their hair, they seemed unlike any other FBI agents she knew. She pulled out her badge.
“Afternoon, gentlemen. Special Agent Dana Scully.”
“I’m Agent James Page, and this is Bob Plant,” the short haired one said, gesturing at the taller, longer haired one. Scully glanced at their badges, but they seemed to hold their badges in a way that it was difficult to get a close look.
“Fox Mulder,” he introduced himself, pulling latex gloves out of his pocket, and handed a pair to Scully. They all crouched around the body.
The one with long hair said, “The body was found this morning by the security guard. This place has been closed down for years, but there’s been a problem with people squatting, so a guard stops by periodically to discourage it.”
Scully carefully examined Jon’s face. His cheeks, forehead and eye socket were swollen, his nose obviously broken. Most of his face was spotted with blood from a huge gash on his forehead and from his nose. The injuries to the rest of his body were less obvious, more superficial cuts and bruises, though his leg looked broken.
“I’ll be able to tell better when I do the autopsy,” Scully said absently, pulling a small paper bag out of her pocket. She gently slid it over one of Jon’s hands. “There’s some sort of stain on his fingers.”
Mulder nodded absently, as he closely examined the back of Jon’s jacket. “Agent Page, can you help me for a sec?”
“What have you got, Mulder?” Scully turned to have a better look.
Page lifted the body slightly, while Mulder pulled the shredded back of the jacket apart, revealing the words “FOR HIM” slashed into the victim’s back.
———
“So… why didn’t we call Led Zeppelin on the fact that they’re not FBI agents?”
Mulder crunched on a sunflower seed and snickered. “I’m curious why they went to all the trouble. Did you see the badges? They were fairly passable fakes. I’ve just got a hunch they might be useful.” He pulled up the morgue entrance. “I’m gonna drop you off. Call me when you’re done. I’m going to the Sheriff’s office and see if I can get their files on the other deaths.”
Mulder walked into the Sheriff’s office to find “Agent” Page flirting with the secretary. She was easily in her sixties and did not look impressed.
Mulder cleared his throat. Page startled and the secretary smirked.
“I’m Fox Mulder, I called about some files?” The secretary waved towards a door behind her desk.
“Go ahead, Officer Newton is expecting you.”
“Come on, Jimmy, I might need your help.”
Officer Newton showed them to a conference room connected to the evidence room. Three cardboard boxes and a stack of files were laid out for them.
Mulder pulled the lid off the first box. It was labelled Smythe, Mari case no. LF-1487.
“So… you a fan of classic rock?”
Page shifted. “Ugh… not a big music fan.”
“I definitely am,” Mulder said, pulling a stack of photos out of the box. “The Who, Bowie, The Kinks, Led Zeppelin…” Page winced.
“Look.” Mulder turned to him. “I can tell you’re pretending to be a federal agent. Why?”
He sighed. “My real name is Dean Winchester. The other guy is my brother Sam. We’re looking into the strange deaths that have been happening.”
Mulder paused in laying out the photos. “Are you private investigators?”
“Well, kinda. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Have you ever heard of the X Files? Scully and I investigate strange phenomena, things of a paranormal nature, global conspiracies, aliens.”
Dean laughed. It took him a moment to realize that Mulder was watching him straight faced.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“Dean, I was chasing ghosts and aliens when you were still in diapers.”
———
“The lacerations on the victim’s back cover an area of approximately 12 by 14 centimetres. They appear to have been made by a fine, sharp blade, possibly a scalpel. Mr. Plant, I can hear you.”
Scully turned around, pulling her surgical mask down and giving Sam a pointed look.
“I’m not sure who you are or why you’re here, but my partner seems to trust you. However, I don’t. Why don’t you just tell me who you are?” She strode towards him, and standing as tall she could in her sneakers.
“Sam Winchester. My brother and I… we think there’s something strange going on at Pleasantview. There’s been a number of deaths there and we believe they’re all connected.”
Scully went to the counter and picked up a file. “Mari Smythe, Alan Dunlop, Jared Murray. All discovered in the past two years. Their deaths don’t seem related other than where their bodies were discovered.”
Sam pulled out a notebook. “It goes further back, four years ago, Helen Palmer was found in the ditch along the highway, at the end of the driveway. Six years ago, Matthew Roberts went missing. His car was found parked in the Pleasantview lot. Amy Lewis was found in the woods behind Pleasantview, on county owned land. They estimated she had been dead between 12 and 18 months. LaTisha and Jerome Washington disappeared, their personal effects in the ditch by the highway. Marsha-”
Scully lifted her hand to stop him. “How many?”
“17 deaths and disappearances in 14 years.”