Orpheus and Eurydice

DISCLAIMER: ME NO OWN, SUE ME NOT.

Rated: PG-13 (A couple of bad words)
Category: R, A,
Summary: Dana kidnapped on her wedding day, it's up to Fox to save her.... 
Those who know the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, you know what's
coming.

NOTE: IN NO WAY IS THIS RELATED TO "ENDYMION" NOR "CUPID AND PSYCHE"....

2ND NOTE: "CUPID AND PSYCHE" WAS NOT MEANT AS A COMPANION PIECE TO "ENDYMION"
OR TO ANY OTHER FANFIC I HAVE WRITTEN. IT WAS JUST TAKEN OUT OF NOWHERE.

Orpheus and Eurydice
By KassandraXF (KassandraXF@hotmail.com)

The sun was shining brightly overhead, the golden rays welcome after a long
winter. The sky was a clear azure blue incomparable to any other sky seen for
a long, long time. Once awhile a stray, snow-white cloud floated into the
blue perfection but the cooling winds blew it gently away until the sky was
wholly blue again. Thank goodness for those winds, without them, the day
would've been as hot as the Sahara desert at noon. But those winds were
there, gently blowing the leaves on the trees, causing a pleasant
*swish-shoowsh* sound that was calming to the ear as it was soothing to the
skin. And, of course, the smell of spring was in the air. A woman with mussed
red hair crowned with a long white veil and long white dress ran across the
fields, laughing.

The veil fluttered behind her, creating endless patterns in the wind. Her
dress ruffled behind her as well as she took short light steps among the
grasses. To her, the day was perfect, and indeed, it was perfect, for her and
anybody who could enjoy a beautiful day. Despite what others may have thought
about they day, she had an extra happiness to add to her already cheerful
feeling: It was her wedding day. She had just thrown the bouquet up, up, up
in the air and unlike the bouquet which eventually fell, she had stayed up,
high and happy. Smiles overpowered her normally nonchalant face and she felt
as if she had never known sorrow. Truly, this was to be her most joyous day
in her life. Never had she felt so euphoric, so free, so content. There
seemed to be nothing that could destroy her blissfulness. Suddenly, she spun
around and beckoned to her now-husband; a tall, handsome man, with chestnut
colored hair and hazel eyes which sparkled emerald on days like this.

"Fox Mulder!" She called out gaily, elation overfilling each word she
uttered, "Fox!"  and she continued her run through the field. Her husband, in
his black tuxedo ran to catch up, the lapels flying about behind him and his
hair waving about in the wind. He, too, was ablaze with happiness. There was
nothing he had ever desired more and this was a dream come true. Everything
was coming into place for him; his sister was found and the woman he loved,
loved him. It was not possible for anyone to be more contented than he was.
When he caught up with his bride, he effervescently picked her up by the
waist and swung her around, the gauzy veil soaring around them. When he
finally let her down, she placed a passionate kiss onto his lips and hugged
him fiercely.

"I love you so much, Dana Scully." He whispered into her ear.

"Dana Mulder." She corrected, not caring at all if it was 'Mulder' or
'Scully'. It didn't matter, all that mattered was that he loved her. Again,
she smiled and ran away but not before bestowing a quick peck on his cheek.
She ran and ran as quickly and as free as the wind itself. It seemed to carry
her a great distance away from her husband who was calling for her to come
back. When she looked back to see if she could still spot his shape, she took
a inattentive step forwards and fell. An startled shriek escaped from her
lips as she fell. But she did not fall onto ground, she was caught. Looking
up, much relieved, at her rescuer only for her grateful smile to turn into
sheer horror. He quickly clasped his hand over her mouth when he saw that she
was about to scream. Squirming, she tried to get away but to no avail, her
captor held her fast and violently dragged her away.
        
Fox who had seen her fall and heard her scream, ran hastily to see if she had
hurt herself. When he got to the place where she fell, he looked over the
edge. It was quite steep and a long way down, but there was a reasonably
large ledge, however, before the drop. He looked down and around but couldn't
find her. Lowering himself down to the ledge, he found two shoes, identical
to the ones his bride was wearing. Satin white now stained with dust and to
his consternation, blood.

"Dana!" He yelled, desperate, "Dana! Scully! Where are you?"

But all he could hear was his lonely echo.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Searching for months, he found nothing. All his leads rapidly became dead
ends. She had disappeared; there was no trace of her anywhere. No one had
heard from her and Mulder started to fear the worst. No ransom was
forthcoming, no threats, no demands, not even Cancerman had bothered him.
What kind of kidnapping was this? He hunted down every new lead, all were
insignificant because there were no significant, promising leads now. The few
that he had, he had worn out long ago. Nothing could deter him from his
pursuit, he would not give up no matter how hopeless it seemed. But nothing
turned up and slowly, his hope started to fade.

Sleep didn't come easily, in fact, many nights, sleep didn't even worry
itself on him. Often Samantha came to keep him company but she couldn't help.
No matter how much she held him or comforted him, he was consumed with the
thoughts of his lost bride. Now, Samantha understood what kind of torture he
had went through when she was lost. Yet, she was found, alive and well. She
had tried to point that out to him but almost nothing penetrated his shield
of self-deprecation, anger and sorrow.

Desperate, he looked everywhere, anywhere and asked everyone and anyone if
they knew anything about her. There really was no stopping him, no matter
what anyone said. He didn't listen; he didn't want to hear what he, himself,
suspected to be the devastating truth. No, she couldn't be dead, I'd feel it
if she were dead, He told himself continually but it didn't subside his
fears. So, relentlessly, to forget his pain, he worked and searched hard for
her. Never stopping, never succumbing to his drooping hopes.

One day, after following up an insignificant lead, he walked, dismally out of
a jewelers shop carrying with him a small package. Inside, he knew without
looking, was her wedding ring which had been sold not too long ago to this
particular jeweler. The delicate gold and precious stones still gleamed
brightly but it no longer exuded the love and happiness as it did on her pale
fingers. He walked, not sure of his destination, and stopped at their bench.
The bench where there used to be the frequent clandestine meetings at dusk
during their painful separation period. This time, he knew, she wouldn't show
up.

He was wrong.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Agent Mulder. What a surprise." An uncaring voice, raspy and evil, was heard
behind him. Mulder quickly spun around to face the unfavorable voice. He was
faced with a craggy faced man, a man he'd recognize anywhere.

"Cancerman..." He breathed, his fists balling up.

"Lovely night, isn't it?" He lit tried to lit his cigarette but the cold
night wind blew out the flickering flame from his match.

"Where is she?" Mulder asked, his voice perilously low.

"You know, I've always admired your endurance." The man went on, his
cigarette now lit. He smiled darkly.

"You fucking bastard, what are you trying to do?" A tremble was detected in
Mulder's voice now, and the cigarette smoking man picked this up with
interest.

"Now, now, Mulder, don't get so angry. You should control your temper. It's
not good for your health to be so agitated."

"It isn't good to be sucking on a cigarette twenty-four/seven either. Why
aren't you in hell now?" He was slowly regaining his composure, resolved not
to lose his temper.

"Oh, I guess it just isn't my time yet, is it?"

"Your time should've been a long time ago."

"Ah, perhaps. But destiny works in the strangest of ways. Don't you agree?"
He didn't wait for an answer, "You should be happily married now, maybe even
expecting a little one...Yet, your bride, taken away on the wedding day. What
a pity."

"Where is she?" He asked again, his eyes glaring dangerously, his hand
itching for the gun he kept by his side.

"She's here."

"Here?" Mulder glanced around surreptitiously, "What do you mean?"

"I mean she's here." He said, cheerful, then instructing someone, he called
out, "You can bring Agent Scully out now!"

Out of the shadow of a cluster of trees, a struggling woman with red hair was
shown trying to escape two of her captives. She was petite of stature and
delicate yet strong as he could tell from her struggling. It was dark and he
could not make out her features but it looked like her. Still, the pale
artificial light from the lamps did not assure him that he was actually
seeing her. Nevertheless, his heart jumped at the sight. He walked forward,
his intent on getting her away from the two men that held her tight. But the
craggy faced man stopped him after one step.

"Not so fast, Agent Mulder. First, you've got to do something for me."

"Do what?" his suspicions were piqued. How could he believe that that bastard
would willingly let her go?

"There's a man...he's been in the way..."

"And you want me to kill him? No way. If he's been in the way, that means
he's probably helping us and not you."

"Good guess, and did I ever tell you I admire you for your cognitive skills,
as well?" the man went on, "I want you to kill AD Skinner. He, besides you,
is the only other one who knows the truth. I'm willing to let you go with
Scully, but not Skinner."

"Why not?"

"He knows too much. One slip and I am done for. Didn't you know that he is to
receive a promotion to become the director of the FBI? If he ever said
anything..."

"You'd be ruined." Mulder finished, "So why should I care? I want you to be
done for. I want you dead."

"My, my, Mulder, after all we've been through...and you want me dead. You
know, I protected you a lot throughout the years. I was the one who released
your precious sister."

"I won't kill Skinner." He stated, sure of himself..

"Then I'll kill Scully." Cancerman played his trump card with triumph. Mulder
froze at mention of her, not sure whether to believe him or not.

"How do I know that you haven't killed her already and the one over there is
a fake?" Mulder questioned dubiously.

"Oh, that's easy. It's quite a simple concept; Trust."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Hello, AD Skinner's office." The congenial voice of Skinner's receptionist
answered.

"This is Special Agent Fox Mulder and I'd like to speak to the AD." His voice
was raspy and cold.

"Of course, Agent Mulder." The warm voice sounded disconcerted but connected
him to the AD anyway.

So, an appointment was set up. Skinner was to drop by Mulder's apartment
after work and they would discuss some matters over Mulder's 'resignation'
because Mulder had shakily stated that he didn't want to go down to
headquarters.

Mulder looked nervously at the clock, sweat running down in clear beads down
his forehead and jaw. What the hell was he doing? His whole body was shaky
and cold. Breaths came in short gasps and his heart, staccato beats.
Swallowing again and again, trying to figure out exactly what he was going to
do and trying to justify it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't. If he
knew it was really Scully waiting outside for him, it'd be easier to accept,
easier to pull the trigger even though he knew it was wrong. But that little
nagging seed of doubt planted long ago and nursed by his ever-present
paranoia had grown to be big and he could not overcome it. What if it isn't
her? What if? Oh, god, what if? Then two will have died because of me...

Sweat trickled silently in snaky patterns down his neck as he watched the
door and the clock alternately. His trembling hands would not stop. And his
eyes burned with doubtful determination.

"Agent Mulder?" A voice accompanied a knock at his door. Mulder forced
himself to look calm and opened the door. The Assistant Director stood there
with his detached, professional face yet understanding eyes.

"Hello, Sir." Mulder greeted, the hoarseness apparent.

"You wanted to talk to me about the shutting down of the X-files and your
resignation from the FBI?" Skinner asked.

"Yes, I wish to...I want to..." But he couldn't finish the sentence,
summoning all his courage he raised the gun to Skinner.

"Agent Mulder..." Skinner was duly startled and surprised. This was the last
thing he had expected. Cautiously, his hand went to his side for his gun but
Mulder's voice cut him off.

"Don't try anything." His voice was low, cracked and miserable, "I have
to...to...kill you."

"Mulder, does this have anything to do with Dana?" the AD queried carefully,
knowing very well that it did.

"Yes." His voice was unsteady as was his mind. He didn't know what he was
doing and it was as if he wasn't in control of himself anymore. Slowly, he
felt his determination slipping away but he fought to get it back.

"I know how much this can hurt, but you can't act irrationally. Whoever told
you that killing me would get her back was lying to you Mulder."

"I. Don't. Care." His throat felt close and his finger tightened on the
trigger, any more pressure and the Assistant Director was as good as dead.
Closing his eyes, he hoped with all his soul that this would get his Dana
back but his conscience prevailed He jerked his arm to the side and pulled
the trigger, a loud bang but no one was hurt. The AD glanced up at Mulder
with surprise and shock and saw that Mulder, too, was going into a sort shock
but before anything could be done, another shot rang outside. Mulder rushed
to the window in time to see a petite red head woman collapse onto the
pavement.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It was her. It was Dana. A bullet wound in her head, marring her perfect pale
skin. Skin that was now covered with dark red blood. She had her wedding
dress on, the white satin dirty and blooded. Fox's eyes took in the horrific
spectacle, trying to understand what had happened. Her still form was
sprawled on the ground, her legs dangling off the edge of the sidewalk, her
arms underneath her head, her hair spread out behind her with a couple of
locks draped over her face. Wait, all was not still, he could see a very
minute movement of her chest. Was she still breathing? He rushed to her and
turned her to face him. For a moment, her light, listless eyes recognized him
and she managed a weak smile but pain stopped her before long. He heard her
sigh and her breath becoming more and more shallow with each passing moment.

"Dana, please, you can't die." He begged, salty tears running down his
cheeks. But nothing, he knew, was going to stop her death, nothing was going
to save her from death's icy grip.

 "I love you, Dana." He said, knowing that she wasn't going to live, "Don't
forget that I love you." He lowered his face to her cheek and briefly
caressed her with his lips. She opened her eyes for the last time, this time,
he could see a dimming glow behind the sapphire color.

"Farewell." She whispered, her last breath expiring as a bubbly sigh. And
that was all, the last time he would hear her sweet voice, the last time he
would hold her alive, and he cried. She was his life, his love and his hope.
With her death, there was nothing left for him. Nothing but empty arms and
silence.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Wandering around had become his custom. Nights when insomnia was at it's
worst, when the sandman grudged even a single grain of sand. Often, he
wouldn't even try to sleep, figuring that it was worthless to even attempt
it. He usually just walked around his neighborhood, aimless in his rambling
about. Building after building, making intimidating, cold shadows on the
sidewalk. Lamp posts were tall and inert, casting shadows in their own light.
Truly, it was a barren as his heart.

One night, feeling particularly low, he drove to the sight of their wedding.
The modest little church, idyllic in the moonlight. The trees cast a swaying
silhouette on the grassy ground. The only artificial light was from the
church. Besides that, moonlight lit the way. It was a cold winter night, the
feel and smell of snow in the air. It had been a year and a half since she
had disappeared from here, a year and a half since that perfect day.

Such a far away day, he reflected, melancholy, had it ever existed? Were cool
winds really as cool and soothing or were they a chilling omen to what was
about to happen? Was the sky as blue as her cerulean eyes or had it been a
clever deception to fool him into the thought of security? He looked up at
the sky, searching for the stars that were out and sparkling happily that
night. The moon was full tonight, bright and luminous. Clouds did not haze
this night sky, the darkest blue blanketing the sky with glittering stars,
shining their tiny lights.

Clouds, like life, are dark like some parts and sometimes, they just aren't
there. There hadn't been any clouds on the day of their wedding. Nothing to
signify the tragedy that would follow. Suddenly, and quite irrationally, he
was angry. Angry at the way everything was. Angry at the men who took her
away and killed her. Angry at how life treated him; luring him into thinking
that everything was perfect and then shattering it unmercifully, striking
hard and cruelly at what was most important to him.

Blinded by his sudden rage, he ran out to the meadow and screamed his fury,
but like his wedding day, all he heard was the voice of a trapped and
condemned nymph, lonely and despairing for she could never express her love
for her lover. His echoes were heard by the rocks, the grass and the wind but
nothing else. The wind whistled louder at his ear, freezing him with it's ice
cold breath. Stopping in the middle of the field, he felt powerless and weak.
With each passing second, the frosty wind was chilling him, morbid thoughts
weighing down his mind, and loneliness refusing to let go of him.

Abruptly, he stood up, not sure of what he was doing. Like an automaton,
driven by the whispering winds, he walked to the edge from where she fell so
long ago on that faraway sunny day. Not looking down, he breathed, wondering
what would happen if he took a step forward. Apathy filled him, he didn't
care about what would happen to him if he took that fatal step...

As if the winds had read his thoughts, a sudden strong surge of cold air
pushed him. There was no time to act scared, to scream, it was too late. That
was the end. It was a steep fall, and killed him on impact. His blood was
stained upon the rocks on the bottom, his body twisted in a contorted,
gruesome shape. Yet, he didn't feel the fall, his soul had fled before his
body hit the rocks.

Not really realizing what had happened, he looked around, confused despite
the feeling of serenity that surrounding him. Out of a pure white light, a
figure, like an angel came to him, with a shining veil with a crown of pearls
donned on her soft red hair. Waiting for him was his bride, dressed in her
satin white wedding dress, with open arms. Embracing her and feeling her soft
body against his, he knew he would be lonely nor unhappy again.

End Orpheus and Eurydice
 
x-x-x-x-x-x-x
A couple of things: 1. The Mystifying Oracle and Trouver L'Amour will be
posted soon! That includes the Easter and April Fools stories (a little late
but better late than never)!
2.  thank you so much for those who responded to Cupid and Psyche!!!
3. As you may have noticed, I'm just taking these mythology stories from
nowhere but the myth. This was one story that I, more or less, dedicated to
the language style, like my past two myth stories, rather than the actual
story or the characters.
4.  Hope y'all enjoyed Small Potatoes...I know I did!
5. Hope you liked the story! E-me! I love e-mail, I love comments!

Well, adios 'til May!

KassandraXF@hotmail.com

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"There's a garden in my room,
Would you like to take a look,
There are fascinating things you'll find there.
If you dare to go inside,
There is nothing I will hide,
Come where there is sweet perfume
In the garden in my room."
----Garden in My Room, Merril Bainbridge, The Garden