Janelli-Heller Funeral Home - A teenage girl stands at a
pulpit, delivering a difficult eulogy.
YOUNG WOMAN: ...I think we all feel an empty place not just
in our hearts but in our lives. Everybody loved Jennifer, not just because she was a
special person...but because she was the kind of friend who was always there for you.
We'll all miss you, Jennifer. We'll miss your smile...we'll miss your laugh and your sense
of humor. We'll miss the time we could have spent together. We'll keep those memories
close to our hearts until we meet again in God's kingdom.
(Mourners filing past the coffin.)
(Move to Donnie Pfaster, an employee of the funeral home,
standing near a door to the side of the pulpit. His eyes betray a fire of fascination.
This look evaporates when Jackson Toews, his supervisor, enters near Donnie.)
TOEWS (quietly): The family has requested a graveside service
now. I've rescheduled the burial to tomorrow afternoon. We'll keep the body overnight.
(The mourners have left by now. Donnie's approaching the
coffin, looking at the girl.)
DONNIE (sincerely): Such a beautiful girl.
(Donnie strokes the girl's hair lovingly, then closes the
lid.)
Cut to: The funeral hall, at night.
(Jackson Toews enters a dark room, looking for something. He
hears noise, turns, staring into the darkness.)
TOEWS: Hello?
(The room is still. A sound of a coffin being closed.)
TOEWS (he's really spooked now): Who's there?
(A shadowy form is drifting through the coffins.)
TOEWS: I said, who's there?
(The form is a silhouette of a gargoyle-like, demonic
creature. Toews turns in terror, finds the light switch, flips it on. He's turning to
see:)
TOEWS (surprised): Donnie? What the hell are you doing here
this late?
DONNIE: Working.
TOEWS (noticing a pair of scissor in Donnie's hand): Working?
At this hour? (noticing a trail of blonde hair clippings scattered on the concrete): What
the hell were you doing? (opening the coffin, to find the dead girl's hair has been cut
off): Get out of here, you freak! Get out of here, and don't come back!
(Donnie turns and walks away, a demonic smile on his face.)
[opening credits]
----------------------------------------------
Graveyard.
(Mulder, Scully and Special Agent Moe Bocks are walking
towards a gravesite.)
BOCKS: ...I got the call from Minneapolis PD, saying they
wanted the FBI to come out and have a look. Anything slightly freakazoid, that's the
drill: call Moe Bocks. As if I'm tight with all the nut cases in town. So I shoot on down
here to see what's-the-what and I'll be damned if I'm not knocked on my butt by what they
show me. Twenty two years, I've never seen anything like it. I get one look at the corpse
and I'm on the phone to my pal Andi Schnider down at the Mutual UFO Network. You know
Andi?
MULDER: No.
BOCKS: Well, he knows you.
MULDER: Why'd you call Mufon?
BOCKS: I wanted to see if there'd been much UFO activity in
the area.
MULDER: You think this grave was unearthed by aliens, Agent
Bocks?
BOCKS: It has all the telltale markings, don't you think? I
mean, according to the literature.
MULDER: The literature?
BOCKS: Y'know. The way the hair and nails have been cut away.
Sort of like they do in cattle mutilations.
(Scully is clearly disturbed by the sight of the body.)
MULDER: I hate to disappoint you, Agent Bocks, but this
doesn't look like the work of aliens to me.
BOCKS: disappointed): No? How can you be sure?
MULDER: I've seen this kind of thing before. When I was with
the Violent Crime Section. Whoever dug this up probably used a backhoe. If you took casts
of the ground in the area, you'd probably lift some clean new tracks off the garage around
here somewhere.
BOCKS: You think?
MULDER: He may work here, but it's not likely. Though he's
probably worked at a cemetery or a mortuary at one time or another. Probably been busted
before, but you're not going to find any record of it. Not real good for business when
these stories get around.
BOCKS: to be sure): You're saying some human's been doing
this?
MULDER: If you want to call him that.
BOCKS: embarrassed): Well, don't I feel like a dumb butt.
(Scully ventures one last look into the grave, the image
giving her a cold shudder. Mulder & Scully move back to their car, Bocks stays
behind.)
MULDER: You okay, Scully?
SCULLY: Yeah... I've read about cases of desecrating the
dead, but this is the first time I've seen one.
MULDER: Nothing can prepare you for it. It's almost
impossible to imagine.
SCULLY: Why do they do it?
MULDER: Some people collect salt and pepper shakers. The
fetishist collects dead things. Hair, fingernails... no one quite knows why. Though I've
never quite understood salt and pepper shakers myself.
SCULLY (looks curiously at Mulder): Sometimes you surprise
me, Mulder.
MULDER: Why?
(opens car door for Scully, then goes around the car to get
in)
SCULLY: How that didn't shock you back there.
MULDER: I've prepared myself for it before we left
Washington.
SCULLY (gives him a look, they are in the car now): You knew
it wasn't UFO-related from the start?
MULDER: I had suspected as much.
SCULLY: Mulder, we flew three hours to get here. Our plane
doesn't leave until tomorrow night. If you suspected, why -
MULDER (pulls two tickets from his pocket): Vikings versus
Redskins, in the Metrodome. Forty yard line, Scully. You and me.
--------------------------------------------
Ficicello Family Frozen Foods.
(Marilyn sits behind a desk, interviewing Donnie Pfaster.)
MARILYN: Have you lived in the Twin Cities area long, Mr.
Pfaster?
DONNIE: I grew up here. I was away for a few years.
MARILYN: What kind of work were you in before?
DONNIE: Cosmotology. Hair and makeup.
MARILYN: Oh, that's interesting.
DONNIE: If you don't mind my saying, that's a lovely color
lipstick you're wearing. Is that Indian Summer?
MARILYN (flattered): Yes. Yes, it is. You're applying for a
job as a deliveryman -
DONNIE: To put myself through school. I've gone back to
school.
MARILYN (smiles, writing this down): What are you studying?
DONNIE: Comperative religions.
MARILYN: Oh. Are you religious yourself?
DONNIE: Yes. Very.
MARILYN (smiles, leaning forward): I'm probably not supposed
to say this, but Mr. Ficicello feels very strongly about religious backgrounds. He prides
himself on the honesty of his employees.
(Agent Bocks is sitting in his office, watching the Vikings
vs. Redskins game. Scully & Mulder enter. Bocks turns the TV sound down.)
BOCKS: I was glad I could catch you before you left.
(Mulder stares longingly at the mute screen)
BOCKS (hands to Scully a file folder): We found more bodies
dug up.
SCULLY: Did you get your forensics report on this one?
BOCKS (nodding): Somebody was down there in the grave
alright. Cut the hair with a pair of pinking shears. Gotta wonder about this guy.
MULDER: How many bodies does this make?
BOCKS: Three in the last two days.
MULDER: What else can you tell me about the analysis of the
corpses?
BOCKS: The hair was cut from the heads of two of the bodies.
From the third one, the fingernails were pulled out with what looks like a pair of
needlenose pliers.
(Scully looking at photos in the file, and sees herself as
one of the victims! A wave of nausea comes over her. She lays the file on the desk and
leaves the room. Mulder noting this)
MULDER: Alright, I want you to draft an eyes-only memo to
everyone in this office, and to all law enforcement agencies in the metropolitan area.
BOCKS: Saying what?
MULDER: That the Twin Cities have an escalating fetishist on
their hands.
BOCKS: A what?
MULDER: An escalating fetishist. Security should be tightened
around the city cemeteries. Mortuaries, funeral homes and hospitals should be notified.
There should be warning of a possible stalker in the area.
BOCKS (hesitating): This isn't New York, Agent Mulder. People
still leave their doors unlocked here. This is going to scare them.
MULDER: You can leave out the more gruesome aspects in your
press release.
BOCKS: Why do you want to alarm folks anyway? I mean, if this
guy only preys on dead people...
MULDER: His compulsion is growing. He may resort to homicide
to procure his corpses. Once he gets a taste of a warm body, he's probably going to want
more.
BOCKS (shaking his head): Maybe I've been isolated up here in
the great white north too long.
MULDER: How's that?
BOCKS: People wondered why it took them so long to catch that
kid in Milwaukee. Thought someone would have noticed he was killing those young boys.
Truth is, no one ever believed it could happen.
MULDER: If you catch this guy before he kills, maybe they can
go right on believing that.
BOCKS: I'm afraid we don't have the manpower or expertise to
move on this with any speed. Going to be hard to round anybody up on a Saturday. Could be
Monday or Tuesday before we get our ducks in a row.
(Outside of the office, Scully sits alone, with a disturbed
look on her face. She's startled when Mulder leans out the door, but she's not looking at
him.)
MULDER: I'm going to cancel our flight. We've got some work
to do here.
(Scully stares forward, still not looking at him)
MULDER: Scully?
SCULLY: I'll be right with you.
(Mulder ducks back, while Scully remains there, shaken).
(Agent Bocks' office. On a computer screen, there's
information regarding all sorts of murderers and maniacs, accompanied by photos of them.)
SCULLY'S VOICEOVER: A complete model or psychological profile
of the death fetishist does not exist. Extrapolating from material on file at the FBI's
Behavioral Science Unit, the compulsion is the result of a complex misplacement of values
and a deviation from cultural norms and societal mores - often accompanied by extreme
alienation from normal social interaction and traditional avenues for interaction with
others. He is more likely to be white, male and of average to above average intelligence.
Cases of fetishists with IQs over 150 have been documented. The progression of the
pathology can be traced from the fantasy stage to the eventual acting out of fetishistic
impulses, including opportunistic homicide. Agent Mulder believes strongly that the
suspect in this case is escalating toward this action. It is my opinion from reading these
case files that death fetishism may play a stronger role than suspected in cases of serial
murder. That once he begins to murder, it is the killing that draws attention away from a
deeper motive. A motive which most people, including law enforcement professionals, dare
not imagine. It is somehow easier to believe, as Agent Bocks does, in aliens and UFOs,
than in the kind of cold blooded inhuman monster who could prey on the living to scavenge
from the dead.
(Donnie Pfaster. Cruising in his car, down a street lined
with working girls. He stops near 2 hookers, one of them (Satin) bends down, leaning on
the car.)
SATIN: Hi.
DONNIE: Hi.
SATIN: Are you looking for a date?
DONNIE: Yes.
SATIN: Do you want to pull around the corner over there.
(Donnie's apartment. Donnie and Satin enter. Normal
apartment.)
SATIN (hugging herself): Don't you have any heat in here?
It's freezing.
DONNIE: The forced air unit is broken. I'd like to run you a
bath. (heads towards the bathroom)
(Donnie's bathroom. Little bottles with shampoos and soaps
neatly placed on the side of the tub. The water is running, Donnie's adding bubble bath
into the water. Satin enters.)
DONNIE: Is your hair treated?
SATIN: What?
DONNIE: Do you need a shampoo for chemically treated heir?
SATIN: You want me to shampoo my hair?
DONNIE: I'm happy to pay extra, if that's something out of
the ordinary.
SATIN (looks at him, then reaches down to take off her
high-heeled shoes. Her fingernails are long and painted bright red): Nobody's ever asked
me.
(Phone rings from another part of the house.)
DONNIE (starts to walk out of the bathroom): Excuse me.
(Donnie's bedroom, he's answering the phone.)
DONNIE: Hello.
MARILYN: Is this Mr. Pfaster?
DONNIE: Yes.
MARILYN: Hi, this is Marilyn at Ficicello Frozen Foods. Sorry
to bother you so late, but I'm calling to say you've been hired, Mr. Pfaster. We'd like
you to start right away.
SATIN (coming down the hallway): Hey, what's going on here?
The water's ice cold. (entering the bedroom, with only a towel wrapped around her. Her
expression changes to one of terror): Oh God...
(Donnie's bedroom is full of funeral sprays, most of them are
wilting. He looks calmly at Satin.)
MARILYN (on the phone): Mr. Pfaster...?
DONNIE: Yes. That's wonderful news. Thank you so much.
(hangs up the phone, looking at Satin, as she backs away into
the hallway)
(An alley. Night. Police cars are all around, there's a body
covered with blue satin sheets.)
BOCKS: We're still waiting for someone to ID the body.
(approaching with Mulder & Scully) Judging from this area, I'd say she was probably a
working girl.
(The prostitute that was standing with Satin when Donnie
picked her up, is approaching, seeing the body, becoming hysterical.)
PROSTITUTE: Oh my God! Oh my God! Who did this to her? Who
did this?
(she's being pulled away)
MULDER: Was it him?
BOCKS: It looks like it. Knife wound the length of her torso.
All her hair was cut off. He took her fingernails. But this time, he took some fingers,
too. Do you want to see the body?
(Mulder starts moving towards the body, Scully doesn't
follow. He looks back at her)
(Nice neighbourhood - it's daytime. Donnie Pfaster, with his
delivery man uniform walks out of a delivery vehicle, with a frozen food container. He
walks up to one of the houses, and knocks the door. A woman answers.)
DONNIE: Hi. I'm your new delivery man.
ELLEN: Oh, hi. Come in.
(They both enter the kitchen. Donnie starts placing the food
in the freezer, while Ellen is spooning out cookie batter onto metal cookie sheets.)
ELLEN: Did they give you Skip's old route?
DONNIE: Yes, ma'am. I think so. I just started with the
company.
ELLEN: Skip had been delivering to us for so long, we almost
took it for granted he'd always be around. Since before the kids were born.
(Lisa, Ellen's daughter enters the kitchen.)
ELLEN: Lisa, this is...
DONNIE: Donnie. Donnie Pfaster.
LISA: Oh, hi. (to her Mom): I'm going to Steve's, Mom.
ELLEN: Okay. You have a good time.
LISA (to Donnie): Bye.
DONNIE: Bye. (stares at her leaving)
ELLEN (to Donnie, after Lisa leaves): We have three
daughters.
DONNIE: Oh. (smiles politely, as he closes the freezer door):
Pardon me, but can I use your washroom to wash my hands?
ELLEN: Oh, sure. There's a washroom down off the service
porch.
(Bathroom. Donnie, thoroughly washing his hands. He dries
them, and looks down at a waste-basket. He reaches down, picks it up, and puts his hand
inside. He retrieves a hairball, looks at it lovingly, and brings it to his face to feel
its texture. He, then, puts it in his pocket, and puts the waste-basket back down. He
turns around to exit, and when he opens the door, he finds himself face to face with
Ellen.)
ELLEN: I just wanted to tell you, if we're ever not home, we
always leave the back door open here.
(County Morgue. A group of men (doctors and medical
examiners). they stand around the body of the satin sheet covered dead hooker on the
autopsy table. Scully walks in, to perform the autopsy, all men silently make room for
her.)
SCULLY'S VOICEOVER: Death is a recorded event. For reasons
natural or unnatural, when a body ceases to function, the cause of the effect can be
clearly reconstructed. A body has a story to tell.
(She pulls the satin sheet back, and turns on the microphone
above the autopsy table.)
SCULLY: The time is eleven fourteen AM, Monday, November
14th. The deceased is a female in her twenties... (her voice fades)
SCULLY'S VOICEOVER: If the victim was strangled, an
examination of the veins in the eyes will reveal this. If the victim was shot, entry
wounds and gunpowder residue can be used to reconstruct the events leading to death and
help to establish a possible motive. Body temperature, preferably the temperature of the
spleen, is an accurate indicator of the time of death. As are rigor, livor and levels of
sodium in the blood. If the body was moved, sand, small rocks, vegetable debris, even
pollen can be removed and analysed to determine the location of the original crime scene
and place the position of the body at the time of death. Extracutenous stains and residues
can indicate the use of poison or toxins. Hair and fibres, slivers of glass, plastic, even
insect casings can serve to recreate the circumstances under which death occurred.
(Scully is now seated at Agent Bocks' computer, the heard
words are written on the screen by her.)
SCULLY'S VOICEOVER: It may be an irony only understood by
those of us who conduct these examinations, who use these pieces to rebuild a narrative,
that death, like life itself, is a drama with a beginning, middle and end. It is my
opinion, having conducted this examination, that the victim died a wrongful death for the
express purpose of extracting her hair and fingernails.
(We keep hearing Scully's voice over, but now we see Mulder
reading a document from Scully's computer.)
SCULLY'S VOICEOVER: The time of death cannot be accurately
determined due to what I believe must have been immersion in a cold environment, most
likely water. Death came as a result of blood loss and trauma from a deep knife wound
which severed the plimonary artery. Of the evidence examined, no one piece or combination
gives a clear picture of the killer, other than the motive implied by the bizarre nature
if the crime. For the record, it is also my opinion that, outside of child homicide, which
may be more tragic and heinous, this is one of the most angry and dehumanizing murders
imaginable.
(Mulder looks up from the page, he's now in a lineup
observation room. He stands with Agent Bocks, and the 2nd prostitute.)
BOCKS: to prostitute): Look at each man carefully.
PROSTITUTE (shakes her head): He was ordinary. He didn't look
like no freak.
BOCKS: Do you remember what kind of car he was driving? What
color it was?
PROSTITUTE: I think it was white.
BOCKS: Okay, you can go. Just leave a number and address
where you can be reached.
PROSTITUTE: Are you gonna catch this guy?
BOCKS (unconvincing): We'll catch him.
MULDER: Might be a nice week to take that paid vacation the
boss owes you.
PROSTITUTE: Yeah. Right. (leaves the room)
BOCKS (to Mulder): If this guy looks regular-like, and if he
doesn't have a record, he's gonna be near impossible to find.
MULDER: Until he kills again. Or until we can determine
what's driving him.
BOCKS: I read your profile. Sounds like a guy who can't make
it with women. Which would explain the hooker.
MULDER: The hooker was just convenient. This guy's not after
sex. He's after trophies. His victim was a young attractive woman. The corpses he dug up
were those of young women. Yet there's no evidence of any sexual activity. What fuels his
need? What is important about the hair and fingernails to him? It's as if it's not enough
that they're dead. He has to defile them. There's a deeper psychosis at work here. And
anger toward women, possibly his mother.
BOCKS: I'd say she'd be pretty fried at him, too.
MULDER: The next thing to do is call all the psychiatric
facilities. See if they have any record of patients with similar pathologies. This kind of
killer isn't made overnight. He's been fuelling this fetish for years.
TEACHER: ...the necessity of the story, the myth or the
legend in a culture is almost universal. We think of myths as things that entertain or
instruct, but their deeper purpose is often to explain, or make fanciful, wishes, desires
or behavior that society would otherwise deem unacceptable. Myths often disguise thoughts
that are simply too terrible to think about, but because they are conveyed in a wrapping
of untruth - the story - these thoughts become harmless fiction.
(Donnie is seated in the back of the classroom. He stares at
a pretty short-haired blonde coed in the front row. she touches her neck, her fingernails
are filed, long and colored. The teacher continues.)
TEACHER: Take, for example, stories that we recite for
children, such as Snow White or Alice in Wonderland. The subtextural themes where the
Queen orders "off with her head", or the prince wakens Sleeping Beauty with a
kiss, are what Freud would describe as death/wish imagining.
(Parking lot. The pretty coed is walking to her car, and
opens the door. Donnie appears on the other side of the car and surprises her.)
DONNIE: Excuse me. I'm in your mythology class.
COED: Oh.
DONNIE: My name's Donnie. I sit a couple rows over. Maybe
you've seen me.
COED: I-I don't know. I -
DONNIE: I know. You sit up front. I just... (moving to her
side of the car) I was going to my car, and I saw you, and... did he ask us to read
chapters ten and eleven, or eleven and twelve?
COED: Oh, I think it was... (reaches into her bag, to check
in her notebook) It was chapters ten and eleven.
DONNIE: Oh, thanks.
COED (puts the notebook back in her bag, in the meantime,
Donnie's got closer to her, and has her penned in the tight V made by the open door) I
have to go now. (tries to pull the car door from Donnie's grasp, and fails)
DONNIE: Don't go.
COED (angrily): Let go of the door!
(Donnie takes a step closer, and she knees him in the groin,
followed by a punch, which sends him to the floor)
(County morgue. The body is lying on the autopsy table,
covered with a satin sheet. Agent Scully walks in, wearing her autopsy uniform, and moves
to the body. She removes the sheet from the body, and with a horror expression on her
face, she sees... Herself! Lying on the autopsy table. From the dead Scully's point of
view, we see the demonic figure from the beginning, where the examining Scully stood
before. Phone begins ringing.)
(Motel room. Scully's bolting upright in bed, waking from a
nightmare. She answers the ringing phone.)
SCULLY: Hello.
MULDER: Scully, it's me. They've arrested somebody they think
may be our guy.
(Jail block, at night. Scully, Mulder and Bocks walk down the
jail corridor, heading towards a cell.)
BOCKS: He's got a history of assault. A 911 call came in from
a security officer who saw it happen. She hurt him really bad.
(They arrive the cell, look inside. The man inside is not
Donnie. He has a knife wound across his cheek and nose.)
MULDER: Who cut him?
BOCKS: A working girl. They're all carrying knives since what
happened.
(They enter the cell. Behind them, in another cell, Donnie is
standing, his face pokes out of the bars. He's staring at Scully with the same look we've
seen before. After a while, the agents leave the other man's cell, and move a few steps
from the bars.)
MULDER: He's not our guy.
BOCKS: I thought we had him.
(They start leaving, as Donnie keeps staring at Scully. She
turns around, feeling his look. She looks at him, then turns away, shaken. They all reach
the door.)
SCULLY: Mulder, can I have a minute with you?
MULDER: Yeah.
(Scully looks at Bocks, she wants to talk to Mulder alone)
BOCKS (gets the message): I'll be out front. (exits)
SCULLY: I think I might better drive this investigation if I
focused on the evidence.
MULDER: What are you suggesting?
SCULLY: That I take the body back to Washington. I'd like to
run it through the fingerprint lab there. You know those guys, they can pull a print -
MULDER: If you're having trouble with this case, Scully, I
want you to tell me.
SCULLY: I'm not having trouble, Mulder.
MULDER: I'd understand, Scully. This isn't exactly easy to
stomach.
SCULLY: I'm fine with it. Really. I just think we're a long
way from catching this guy. If we could get a print, we'd have something to go on. Right
now we're at a standstill.
MULDER (knowing she's hiding something): I think it's a good
idea. (puts his hand on her shoulder): I just don't want you to think you have to hide
anything from me, Scully. I've seen agents with twenty years in the field fall apart on
cases like this.
SCULLY (quietly): I'm fine, Mulder. I can handle it. (gently,
she pulls away from his touch, and they both leave)
DONNIE (to the guy in the cell next to him, whom the agents
were talking to): Hey, what's your name?
SUSPECT: You talking to me?
DONNIE: Yeah. Were those FBI agents?
SUSPECT: Yeah.
DONNIE: What were they asking you?
SUSPECT: They thought I was some freak who's been digging up
corpses. Man, I'm in enough trouble already.
DONNIE: What were their names?
SUSPECT: Who?
DONNIE: The younger agents.
SUSPECT: Um. I don't remember his name, but she was Scully,
like that baseball announcer.
(A jailor approaches, and opens Donnie's cell.)
JAILOR: Let's go. Mr. Pfaster.
DONNIE: Go where?
JAILOR: Lady's dropped the charges against you. They're
letting you out soon as you talk to psychiatric social worker.
EXAMINER (studying a piece of satin through magnification
eyeglasses): At first glance, there's not much to work with. Satin doesn't hold a print
real well. There could be a latent somewhere in these blood stains, but I suspect the
killer used gloves.
SCULLY: The body was shipped on my flight. I should be here
within the hour.
EXAMINER: We'll take a look. How long are you in town, Agent
Scully?
SCULLY: I've got a flight back to Minneapolis booked for
tonight. But I might cancel.
(FBI headquarters. Scully is walking down a hallway. She
reaches a door marked: "Employee Assistance Program, K. Kosseff L.C.S.W.".
Scully looks around to see no one's looking, then enters. Scully's seated across Karen
Kosseff, struggling with her emotions.)
SCULLY: You think you find a way to deal with these things.
In med school, you develop a clinical detachment to death. In your FBI training, you are
confronted with cases, the most terrible and violent cases. You think you can look into
the face of pure evil. And then you find yourself paralysed by it.
KOSSEFF: Are you aware you've been talking about yourself in
the second person?
SCULLY: No. Was I?
KOSSEFF: Do you know why?
SCULLY: Probably as another way of trying to detach myself
from it.
KOSSEFF: You're a strong person. You've probably always felt
you can handle any problem yourself. But you feel vulnerable now. Do you know why that is?
SCULLY: No.
KOSSEFF: Is it your partner? Is there a problem with trust -
SCULLY (firmly): No. I trust him as much as anyone. I'd trust
him with my life.
KOSSEFF: Can you talk to him about the way you're feeling?
SCULLY: No. (pauses) I know it sounds crazy, but I don't want
him to know how much this is bothering me. I don't want him to think he has to protect me.
KOSSEFF: I know you lost your father last year. And I read in
your file that you were very ill recently. That your life was threatened. Exposures like
these can leave you extremely vulnerable.
SCULLY (tears well up in her eyes, but she's not crying): I
know these things. I'm conscious of them. I know the world is full of predators, just as
it has always been. And I know it's my job to protect people from them. And I've counted
on that fact to give me faith in my ability to do what I do... I want that faith back... I
need it back.
EXAMINER: There you are. I've been looking for you.
SCULLY: I had a meeting.
EXAMINER: I've got good news.
SCULLY: What did you find?
EXAMINER: Well, as I suspected, there was nothing on the
sheets. But we got something nice off the body. At first it didn't look like it. Nothing
on the torso, the face, the arms, the hands. The guy cut her fingers off though, right?
But not all of them. On her right hand, he left a thumb. (hands Scully a print of the
fingerprint) I pulled this off the nail polish. There must have been a struggle before he
killed her. Before he put the gloves on.
SCULLY (excited): I've got to call Agent Mulder. (goes to the
phone)
EXAMINER: Oh. Somebody called for you.
SCULLY: Who?
EXAMINER: He said he was an Agent working out of Minneapolis.
I told him you were out, but had a flight booked back tonight.
SCULLY (with a look of concern, as she dials): Was it Agent
Mulder?
EXAMINER: I didn't recognize the print.
SCULLY: Did you tell him about the print?
EXAMINER: I hadn't found it yet.
MULDER (on the phone): Mulder.
SCULLY: Hi, it's me. We got a print.
MULDER (to Bocks): Scully got a print.
BOCKS: Fantastic!
SCULLY (on the phone): I'm going to modem it out to you right
away to see if you can run a match.
MULDER: Are you staying on there, Scully?
SCULLY: No. I'm coming back tonight.
MULDER: Look, Scully. I know this is a pretty horrific case -
SCULLY: I'm okay with it, Mulder. You can use my help.
MULDER: Always!
SCULLY (smiles faintly, then): Mulder? You or Agent Bocks
didn't call here looking for me earlier, did you?
MULDER (to Bocks): Did you call for Agent Scully?
(Bocks shakes his head)
MULDER: No.
SCULLY (curious) Okay, I'll see you when I get there. (hangs
up)
(Donnie Pfaster's apartment. The door is broken down by
uniformed officers. The bedroom, just as before, flowers all over. No sheets on the bed.
From out of the zippered end of one pillow, protrudes a stuffing of long human hair.
Mulder and Bocks enter the apartment, Mulder walks into the kitchen as Bocks is talking on
his walkie-talkie.)
BOCKS: The suspect does not appear to be at home. Let's put
out an APB on Donald Addie Pfaster, age twenty eight -
(One of the officers opens the freezer, showing something to
Mulder.)
MULDER (showing it to Bocks): Take a look.
BOCKS: Holy mother of God.
(It's a box of frozen food, that contains brussel sprouts,
and also some fingers, and a long fingernail, painted bright red.)
(Airport, at night. Scully exits. She goes to a car rental
company.
She exits the rental company, and approaches her rented car.
From another car nearby, a man is watching her. It's Donnie Pfaster.
Scully's in her car, driving. Behind her, a pair of bright
headlights looms up behind her. The lights grow brighter and nearer, and Scully is taken
totally by surprise, as her car is rammed from behind. She gets hold of the wheel, trying
to correct the forced swerve, but her car is being rammed again.)
(A road. Scully's dented car lies on the side of the road. A
team of FBI officers are around. Also Bocks and Mulder. There's a white scratch on the
car. Mulder looks inside, the airbag is out, and torn.)
(Donnie is in a dark house. He's going down a corridor,
entering a bathroom. The bathtub is filling, we can guess the temperature of the water.
There are little bottles of shampoos etc. on the side of the tub.
Donnie is again, walking in a corridor, entering a bedroom.
He opens the closet door. Inside we see Scully, huddled in the corner. Her hands and feet
are tied, her mouth gagged. Her face is bruised, her eyes are closed. She opens her eyes,
and sees... The demonic figure from her dream. Donnie's closing the door.)
BOCKS (on cellular phone): Nothing registered to Donald
Pfaster? Right... right. Got it. (hangs up) (to Mulder): The paint is called Ivory Bone.
It's a two-step enamel used by three makers of late model mid-sized car. They estimate
there may be about sixty thousand cars that fit this description in the metropolitan area.
MULDER (on his own cellular phone): Nothing? No one saw her
leave the rental agency...? There was no attendant in the area...? (presses the 'end'
button in frustration) (to Bocks): People videotape police beatings on dark streets. They
see Elvis in three cities across America every day. But no one saw a pretty woman being
run off the road in her rental car.
BOCKS: He could have taken her anywhere. How're we going to
find her?
MULDER: We've got to go back to the beginning. As nasty as it
seems, we've got to get into this guy's head. How he thinks. Where would he go?
BOCKS (shrugging): Anywhere but his mother's right?
MULDER: What do you mean?
BOCKS: Being that he's so pissed off at her. From what your
profile says.
MULDER (interested): Where does his mother live?
BOCKS: I don't know.
MULDER: Let's find out.
(Donnie in that dark house, moving towards the closet and
opens it. Scully is in there, very frightened.)
(Bocks' office. Mulder and Bocks look at a computer screen.)
BOCKS: The mother lives in Boca Raton, Florida. Correction.
She used to live there. She died a year ago.
MULDER (disappointed): Did she have a car registered to her?
BOCKS (checking): A late model white sedan.
MULDER (realizing): He inherited the car. Boca Raton could
have been a winter house. Was there a residence here in Minneapolis?
(Bedroom. Inside the closet. Donnie's near Scully, he's
inspecting her fingernails. He uses a sharp knife to cut the rope that binds her feet.)
SCULLY (her mouth still gagged): Get the hell away from me!!
(to her terror, she sees Donnie's face, transforming, and
becoming different men's faces. Those are the men she saw before, in the computer files
she checked. The figures then change to that demonic creature again, then back to Donnie)
DONNIE: Don't be afraid.
(Donnie takes Scully, hands still tied, mouth still gagged.
He leads her to the bathroom, where the tub is filled with water and bubbles. Donnie walks
around her in the bathroom, to check the shampoos.)
DONNIE: Would you say your hair is normal or dry? (he turns
around, as Scully backs out towards the door) Now where are you going?
(Donnie moves towards Scully, grabs her, but she pushes him
hard straight into the freezing water in the bathtub. Scully then rushes out of the
bathroom. Donnie pulls himself, wet, from the tub, and starts chasing her. He walks out of
the bathroom, and looks around. Scully has disappeared. He's moving around the house,
looking for her. Scully reaches the front door. It's locked. She runs for a place to
hide.)
DONNIE: There's no way out, girly girl. (enters a bedroom,
and retrieves a gun from the dresser) I know this house, girly girl. There's nowhere to
hide.
(He then hears a noise from one of the rooms, and rushes in
that direction. He moves towards a closed door and opens it. Scully jumps forward, her gag
removed, with a spray bottle in her tied hands. She sprays him in the eyes, and runs off,
while he's stumbling backwards. Scully runs towards the staircase, Donnie after her. He
catches her at the top of the stairs, and they both tumble down the staircase. As they hit
the floor, Donnie's gun slips out of his grasp. Scully starts crawling for the gun, Donnie
sees her, and leaps on top of her. As she's pointing the gun at him, she, again, sees the
demon from her dream, which shocks her, and allows Donnie to snap the gun from her hands.
At that moment, the door bursts open, Mulder, Bocks and a few officers rush in.)
MULDER (gun brandished): FEDERAL AGENTS! HANDS IN THE AIR!
(Donnie slowly puts his hands in the air, and the other men
take him forcefully. Mulder kneels down to Scully. She's dazed, as she's trying to get
up.)
MULDER (loudly): Let's get the paramedics out here!
SCULLY: I'm okay.
MULDER: Just stay there, Scully.
SCULLY (she insists on getting up, Mulder helps her): I'm
fine. Just help me get my wrists undone. (As Mulder starts untying her): How did you find
me?
MULDER: His Mother used to own the house, willed it to the
sisters. I played a hunch. A patrolman spotted the car out front.
(Her wrists untied, Scully rubs them. She doesn't want to
meet Mulder's eyes. She's looking over at Donnie, who's being bound on the floor.)
MULDER: Why don't you sit down until someone can take a look
at you.
SCULLY (quietly): Mulder, I'm fine.
(Mulder looks at her, and tips up her chin. She, then, meets
his gaze, and that's all it takes. Her eyes well up, and she begins crying. Mulder's
holding her now, though she keeps her arms crossed in front of herself. She, then, allows
herself to hold him, to fully let her emotions out. Scully continues to cry in Mulder's
arms, while he holds her tight and strong.)
(Photos of Donnie as a child, and his family, are fading one
into the other, as we hear Mulder.)
MULDER'S VOICEOVER: The conquest of fear lies in the moment
of its acceptance. And understanding what scares us most is that which is most familiar,
most common place. That boy next door, Donnie Pfaster, the unremarkable younger brother of
four older sisters, extraordinary only in his ordinariness, could grow up to be the devil
in a buttoned-down shirt. It's been said that the fear of the unknown is an irrational
response to the excesses of the imagination. But our fear of the everyday, of the lurking
stranger, and the sound of foot-falls on the stairs. The fear of violent death and the
primitive impulse to survive, are as frightening as any x-file, as real as the acceptance
that it could happen to you.