Lavender Pit
118 Arizona Street
Bisbee, Arizona
0230 Tuesday
Mulder stared at the note. Anxious, on edge, he looked it over.
Anonymous except for a red foil star. The kind given out by
kindergarten teachers. Wrapped in the newspaper, it had waited on his
doorstep for discovery. He checked the calendar, looked over an atlas
and called the airlines reserving a late flight to Tucson. He’d get in
about midnight and have enough time to rent a car and drive to Bisbee.
If he cut it close, he could leave work early Monday, catch the flight,
make the meeting, back to the airport, and be back at work before quitting
time. He’d get Scully to cover for him. He just hoped it wasn’t
another case of "Lonely Outcast Eats Cactus". Or one of the many "reds"
selling out their country’s secrets. There’d been at least 3
self-proclaimed "Comrades from Mother Russia" trying to sell him
anti-gravity schematics for $200. As a rule, former members of the Red
Army didn’t talk like a good ol’ boy from Kentucky. He’d just have to
play the waiting game, cross his fingers that this panned out and gave
him something to use.
He packed a gym bag with civilian clothing, electric razor, travel
mouthwash and after second thought, a clean towel and washcloth in case
this turned into a chase-the-alleged-informant-down-muddy-alley-way
affair. There wouldn’t be enough time to stop off between the office
and airport. He’d change in the plane’s bathroom, as awkward as it was,
and have time to spare. Setting the bag by the door he popped a tape in
and zoned out. The ritual of it relaxed him, though the images no
longer moved him. As he drifted off, the VCR rewound the tape and the TV
flickered anonymously in the dark.
· ×· ×· ×· ×·
When he woke the sun had yet to rise. Stretching his arms overhead he
flexed unused muscles, making a mental note to take up swimming again.
A leisurely shower and a stop off for gas and coffee. He actually made
it in early today. Scully walked in, walked out, looked the door over
and came in, one eyebrow raised. Mulder looked up from where he was
fervently pretending he was finishing reports and smiled at her.
"Mornin’ Scully. Coffee?" He nodded at the machine they had hefted
from a janitor’s closet.
"Everything okay, Mulder? Anything I should know about?" she asked
gesturing with her full cup.
"Everything’s fine. I have to leave early today, so decided to come in
early and get my share of work done." He hoped his smile was genuine
enough. "I’ve got a lead that I need to follow up on and won’t have a
chance to get to it later. I was hoping..."
"...that I would cover for you if Skinner asked." She sighed, resigned
to not fighting him this time. After all, he had come in early. "No
problem. Just be careful." Rewarded with a lopsided grin she shook her
head and left to start several autopsies she had scheduled.
· ×· ×· ×· ×·
The day passed swiftly, and Mulder caught himself analyzing what
information he had several times. There was almost nothing to go on.
Noticing that it was 3pm he powered down his computer and left for
Dulles International. He made good time, checked in his weapon and
boarded. His plane departed on time, landed in Houston, Tx. He limped
onto the connecting flight out of breath with a cramp in his calf.
Stern looks from the attendants admonished his tardiness. He smiled
apologetically and took his seat. After a smooth take-off, the seat
belt signs went off and he changed his clothes in the body bag they
called a bathroom. Smacking his elbow, banging his knee, he knew there
would be bruises in the morning. Finally, he managed to squirm into
jeans and a t-shirt. Rolling his suit he stuffed it in the bag and went
back to his seat for the landing in Tucson.
A little after 1am, he drove the blue Ford Escort out of the rental lot
wishing they’d had a car with more pick-up. Keeping the throttle to the
floor the night passed him by. The full moon illuminating saguaro and
brush. The mountains a flat backdrop to the land. He hit Bisbee around
2am. Followed the signs pointing to the mine and parked in back of a
building that looked to be a warehouse for equipment. He was hit with a
gust of wind as he got out of the car and realized he should have
brought a jacket. Tucking his weapon in the back of his jeans he pulled
his shirt over for cover. There was no sign of the unnamed informant,
and he walked the perimeter of the parking area. He looked into the pit
and saw a figure moving near water. Jumping the chain link fence he
made his way down a little path to the bottom. The water soaked up the
moonlight and reflected it in a strange lavender color. Soft purple and
milky, it glowed in the darkness. The light played with his eyes.
Squinting, he turned and looked the area over, unable to pinpoint
movement. Unknown, the figure crept silent to Mulder. Grabbing him,
throwing his weapon aside, bending his arms behind his back. Forcing
his head under the water and holding him there with a knee. Mulder
struggled, trying to scream, but only fluid answered him. Thinking
desperately, he went limp and held what breath he had left. The knee
still held him under. He fought unconsciousness, and lay still. The
weight finally lifted and he was brought up. Slowly, he took in air
through his nose, careful not to let the figure know he was breathing.
Hands turned him loose as warm fingers pressed into his neck searching
for a pulse. Mulder took his chance and brought his knee up as hard as
he could, impacting the figure’s hip and knocking him aside. Now
gasping, Mulder jumped up and ran for the path, cursing his missing gun.
The loose shale skittered around him and lost him precious time.
Footsteps were swiftly approaching him. Timing it, he waited until the
figure caught up with him. Catching the body mid-lunge, Mulder used the
figure’s force against him. Grabbing fistfuls of leather he swung the
attacker around and landed him against the wall of the copper mine. The
body rolled with the impact, a little dazed, but with blood in his eyes.
Mulder burned with cold fire as he recognized the assailant. Opening
his stance, he waited for Alex Krycek to attack again.
Alex smiled, and took his time dusting himself off. Acting as though
they were long lost friends, he closed the space between them to a few
steps and spoke, "I trust your flight was okay? And the drive? It’s
beautiful land, Mulder, even at night."
"Quit jerking me off, Krycek. What little morsel do you want to dangle
in front of me this time?" Mulder spat the words followed by saliva as
he backed away, ready to leave.
"You owe me, Mulder. I’m here to collect my due." The words had a life
of their own and echoed around the mine.
Mulder turned around, an indignant question ready on his lips only to
have a fist connect instead. He fell straight back into the pond.
Droplets flew into the air and punches rained down. Each impact
enunciated.
::right jab::
"You really do have a way with words,
Mulder."
::left jab::
"Self-prophesying, even."
::backhand::
"If you only knew what I’ve got planned."
::left cross::
"Why did you leave me?"
::right hook::
"I almost died down there."
::left hook::
"You left me to die."
::right hook::
"With that thing."
::left hook::
"Now it’s your turn."
Alex hauled the dead weight up and over his shoulder. And headed into a
shaft he had torn the boards from earlier. Following the slopes and
curves he walked deeper. Where light couldn’t reach, where sound
couldn’t escape. He dropped his baggage and grabbed cuffs and ropes.
He looked Mulder over and propped him up against a support column,
securing him tightly to it. The bloody mass that was his face started
moving and making wet, breathy sounds.
"Nuh-uh, Mulder. No trying to sweet talk me now." Alex pressed his
fingers into the split flesh and marveled, "Strong teeth, you got there
boy. I’ll have to try harder next time. But that nose...you thought it
was big before...." Chortling, he hunkered down till his face was even
with what was left of Mulder’s. "You’ve got two choices here. That’s
two more than you gave me. Either, you stay here until they find what
the rats leave of your body, or..." he stood up and unzipped his pants,
pulling himself out. Stroking his length in arrogance and display.
"...you suck my dick and I let you go. Your choice. Which is it?"
Silence. "Okay, Mulder. If that’s the way you want to play it."
Alex turned to leave, when a muffled, "hhnphwayth!" came to him.
"What’s that?"
"Hphwaytht. Doan hgo." Eyes revealed by swelling flesh flashed hatred,
surrender and maybe even a little arousal. Or it was just the lamp
light gleaming off burst capillaries?
Positioning himself back in front of Mulder’s mouth, Alex took out a gun
and pressed it against his bruised temple.
"Open up, baby. And mind the teeth."
Mulder opened his mouth and choked when Alex thrust into it.
"C’mon, Mulder. I said suck." he insisted, digging the barrel into his forehead.
Slowly, he flexed the muscles of his mouth and started soft suction,
taking him in further. Relishing the pain each movement brought.
Confirming that he was being forced to do this. That he had no choice.
That he didn’t want to be held at gunpoint deepthroating Alex Krycek.
Really.
Alex started short thrusting movements. He grabbed Mulder’s hair with
his other hand and knocked it against the column each time he pulled
back. "Harder." he ordered, bucking his hips impatiently.
No choice. Forced. Don’t want to. Mulder chased these thoughts around
the stars behind his eyes and complied. Listening to Alex grunting.
Breathing. Feeling his fingers tighten in his hair, pulling loose a few
strands. The hollow crack of his skull. The nose of the gun at his
temple. Arms helpless behind him.
Hot ocean water on his tongue, he came shortly after Alex. Shame laying
his head low.
All was still.
Lowering himself, Krycek kissed Mulder. Sucking the blood and cum from
his mouth. Passing it back with his tongue. Rising, he tucked himself
back in and returned the gun to its place under his jacket. He checked
the ropes and walked away towards the exit.
"Hhnoo! Hyouu thsaid..."
"I said I’d let you go. And I will, just not tonight. Sweet dreams,
Mulder."
The light left with Krycek and Mulder slumped, unconscious.
· ×· ×· ×· ×·
Darkness greeted Mulder behind closed eyes. Rustling movements taunted
him with their freedom. His face throbbed lightning, his arms were
numb and he had to take a piss. Prying one eye open as far as it would
go, he groaned at the pain and almost passed out as the sound vibrated
through his head. Krycek had been right, there was no light here.
Either that, or he had been knocked sightless. The sounds continued a
few feet away from him. Venturing closer, then swirling away. Maybe
they were ghosts. Miners long dead come to take him to their private
hell. Maybe they were just rats, like Krycek said.
Mulder waited in the belly of the beast, letting sleep take him again.
· ×· ×· ×· ×·
He blinked. It was still black, but there were varying degrees of it.
Shapes looming. Moving. Making his head swell and turn. Dragging his
arms behind him. It took a second to feel the hands on his feet,
pulling him along. Over gravel and dirt beneath the starry sky, the
moon singing. In Russian. He blinked again and tried to focus, drawing
consciousness and reality around him to sort.
Alex dug his heels in and kept his grip on Mulder’s ankles. Hauling him
out of the shaft and to the water. Singing a child’s song about a fox
and a rat, captured by a farmer and forced to choose which of them must
die. Looking over his shoulder he noticed Mulder was awake, between his
bruises he wore confusion. Chuckling he sang louder and watched the
moon receive a scathing look from his captive.
The movement stopped, and the hands took off his shoes and pulled his
jeans down his hips letting them bind at his knees. Still jumbled,
Mulder gasped as he was rolled into cold water. The sediment stinging
open wounds. Before he could register, cuffs engaged his arms behind
his back and his boxers pushed down. Rough fingers entered him as
though investigating, twisting and prodding. Then leaving him, his ass
burned from intrusion. Mulder’s mind made the connection, but Alex
slammed into him before he could act. His body pressing Mulder into the
water, the weight dislocating his left shoulder. He was going to die,
Mulder’s only thought as his bladder emptied in the water beneath him.
The pain split him in half, his body clamping down on Alex refusing to
allow any movement. His back stiff, he kept his head above water and
took in air too fast, releasing high-pitched breaths. Salt stung as it
trailed wetly down his cheeks.
"Feel it, Mulder." Alex exhaled into his ear. "You’ve fucked me in so
many different ways. Now I’m fucking you." He rotated his hips, a
choked sound escaped Mulder. "You’ve got one month. Then it’s your
turn. You pick the place. You pick the time. Winner takes all." Alex
grabbed the soft cheeks of Mulder’s ass in both hands and pulled them
apart, digging his fingers in and recited a phone number. "When you’re
ready. Call. You got that?"
Given a goal, Mulder grunted and swallowed the pain and emotions.
Crushing it into a diamond. Glinting in the night, Mulder braced
himself as Alex started jackhammering into him. Sliding his length in
blood, pistoning ruthlessly. Mulder, resigned to overloaded nerves,
relaxed into fire, prepared to survive. White light exploded before him
as Alex changed his angle and hit his prostate. The furious pace
cutting off escape. His body shattered on every upstroke.
Alex took hold of his head and pushed it under the water, cutting off
his air. The squirming body beneath him tightening and turning.
Mulder’s body jerked as he exploded into the water, Alex following him
and pulled him up. They lay in the shallow water, their scents floating
around them. Mulder caught his breath and felt Krycek nuzzle his neck
before pulling out and straightening up. He took the cuffs off and
patted him on the ass before saying, "Clean yourself up, Mulder. You’re
a mess."
Mulder grit his teeth and rolled to his side. On the third try he
managed to sit up and immediately regretted it. Delicately, gently, he
moved onto his knees and rinsed himself off. Cupping his hand he washed
the torn flesh, sucking his breath through clenched jaw. The thought of
blood poisoning ran through his mind. Shuddering, from shock and
cold, he staggered to his feet and forced his way up the path. Turning
back, the water no longer glowed lavender beneath the moon. Muddied
vermilion spread and swirled instead.
Arriving at the top, the gate was open to him. Krycek had disappeared
with the wind. He opened his car door and took his time settling into
the seat. Turning the rearview mirror, he looked himself over and
decided that the damage wasn’t so bad after all. His nose was broken,
that was certain. The rest..nothing a few weeks and a couple butterfly
bandages couldn’t fix. On the passenger seat lay his weapon and plane
ticket. He picked up the ticket and noticed the return date had been
changed. He was set to fly-out Thursday morning instead. Thinking he
should tell Krycek to just leave the money on the dresser next time, he
started the car and left that old desert town.
End.