untitled
'NAILS'
By:
Xenith
I
straighten and let my suitcase fall as I reach for my weapon.
He smiles benignly as he looks up at me from my couch.
"Have a good flight, Fox?" He takes a draw off his
cigarette and waits patiently for my response.
This feels all too familiar and suddenly, I'm just tired. I don't
bother going for the gun.
"What do you want?"
"The same thing I've always wanted. You've just never had
the eyes to see it. I'm here to tell you about your sister."
I drop into the armchair and gaze at him wearily. "If you're
going to tell me she's alive somewhere, I don't believe you. It's
all lies."
"I'm not going to tell you she's alive. We both know that
she isn't. Her death was...unfortunate."
"Unfortunate. Is that all you can say? She was a fucking
fourteen year old girl! She was stolen from her family, from her
life! Shit, she didn't even know who she was!" I discover
that I'm on my feet, shouting at him. He stays there, placidly
smoking his cigarette. Ashamed of my outburst, I sit down again.
"What more could you possibly want to tell me, you bastard?
How you tortured her until she had to run? How..." The image
of Sam as the captive of those...people...crosses my view and
mixes with that of Scully in the hospital after she was returned.
Dad, murdered. Mom--a suicide? All the people I've loved
destroyed or tormented because of this man.... I put my head in
my hands and endure. No more. Please, no more.
"I'm here, Fox, to tell you why she was taken. Why she was
taken and not you."
"Why do you think I care? Why does it matter?" My head
is still cradled in my hands and my voice is flat, monotone. I
truly don't care any more. Sam is dead. She'll still be dead when
he tells me that she was special, she was needed for his damned
project...
"She was taken because she was Bill Mulder's daughter. You
already know about the demand that the alien colonists made of
us, a hostage from each family."
"Yeah? So?" I crack open an eyelid and stare at him.
"So, I had already contributed my son Jeffrey as a hostage
and sent my wife as well. I had given too many to the aliens. I
refused to send another child." His eyes fixed, tearing into
me like iron and he took another drag on the cigarette. Then he
kept on talking, his words pounding at me, like nails into my
hands, pinning me.
"As I told Bill that night, you were mine. You always were
my child and I couldn't allow your potential to be wasted. Bill
had to send his own child, his only child, Samantha.
Unfortunately, in the process of explaining this, the
circumstances of my...relationship with Teena came out that
night. Bill was...upset. I told you this on our last meeting, but
you weren't entirely conscious at the time." He smiles and
touches the back of his head.
No. Please no. Not this. Not because of him. Sam didn't die
because of this...
"I'm not your son. I won't believe that. There's NOTHING of
you in me."
"Believe as you wish. I just felt that you were owed the
truth. All of it. Samantha was part of the project until she was
14 and ran away. We recovered her of course, but she proved to be
ultimately uncontrollable. Her behavior endangered the project
and she was...disposed of."
"You dare to sit there and tell me that you murdered my
sister and in the same breath you claim me as your son?" I'm
scrabbling for my weapon no, tears streaking down my cheeks.
"Why? Why did you keep me hanging for all those years?
Leading me along with all those false hopes? Do you get off on
torture?"
I see the gun in my trembling hand, pointed at him. He gives it a
bored look and meets my eyes again.
"As I said before, Fox. My goals have always remained the
same. The project. Saving humanity. Because of what you are, that
meant saving you and concealing what you were from other eyes.
Keeping you stumbling after Samantha served a dual purpose. It
educated you, taught you survival skills. And it kept attention
focused on you, for all the wrong reasons. Our continuous and
intentional failures in the hybridization program were put to
your interference. Yet, you could not be eliminated without
dangerous repercussions, and thus your life was preserved."
He touches his head again. "Your life still must be
preserved. I had..a recent operation and am not reacting well.
You remain the only source for the genetic material we need to
survive the coming holocaust."
He gets up and I notice how frail he seems, this impregnable,
evil old man. "And, as always I will continue doing what I
must to preserve the future. You are still the future, my son,
whether you like it or not. And I'll keep you alive, as I always
have."
With that, he lets himself out of my apartment. I just sit in the
chair, holding the gun limply in my hand. Wondering what he
meant. What it all means.
=====
THE END
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