"History is not written in books, Agent Scully, but in an alphabet of human suffering. Every death leaves its mark upon the aether, burnt into the astral plane, scorched into the very fabric of the universe—a textbook accessible to any man who is willing to annihilate himself in its pursuit. History is a manuscript written on the clouds. Authored by the blood of angels.”
As Scully lies on the sidewalk, dead, Mulder holds the murder weapon in his hands and knows that he must have had a damned good reason for killing her....if only he could remember what it was....A bizarre, labyrinthine mystery with darkly comic overtones.
This is an early X-Files fanfic classic, written by the talented LoneGunGuy in 1996. This one isn't for the faint of heart, it can get dark. With imaginations as twisted as those of some fanfic authors, I'm so glad they're putting them into good use rather than letting them roam the streets creating havoc. 😉
I can have mixed feelings regarding the mytharc on the show that makes me shy away from reading stories dealing with aliens and cloning and all that stuff, but there are many, like this one, that blow it out of the water.
Sadly, to my knowledge, a sequel to this story was never forthcoming.