Title: Safe Harbor Part XIII Author: shawntaw Category: MSR, Mulder/Scully/Skinner friendship, ProfilingMulder Rating: PG Summary: Let us get to know the killer, shall we? Disclaimer: The killer, Arlene/Earl, is mine...ALL MINE! MWA HAHAHAHAHA (EVIL LAUGH).....um....sorry....anyway.... This is my disclaimer...I am claiming dis...(I know that was a very bad joke. Its late at night and I just had to say it when it popped into my head*L*) Feedback makes me very happy at shawntaw@hotmail.com :) DEDICATION: To Becky who is the DETAIL QUEEN!!! Thank you for your insights!:) AND, OF COURSE, TO DANI WHO HAS MADE A WEBSITE OF MY STORIES: www.geocities.com/corran_14776/shawntaw.html Thank you.:) On with the show... ********************************************************************** * The small man walked tiredly up the rickety stairs of the old farmhouse. He wondered idly why it was so warm in October. Sweat caused the light blue workshirt to stick to his frame and he had a sudden worry that the binding underneath showed. *Naw. I've gotten too good at it now. Noone suspects.* At this thought, he traced his finger around the name sewn over his left breast pocket. *Earl. Much better than Arlene, right Dad?* He paused and turned to admire the afternoon sun. It had been a short day today at his new job at the gas station. Not a job he particularly wanted, but a job he had taken out of neccesity. *After all, even psychos have to eat.* He chortled to himself at the thought. The killer would be caught soon. He was beginning to come to terms with that. But, when it was over he would have rid the world of four of his father's ideal sons. Four "all-American" men. The killer smiled to himself. This last one would be his masterpiece. Not only athletic, but brilliant as well. His father would have been bursting with pride had this man been his son. *Oh yes, it will a pleasure to rid the world of Agent Mulder.* He smiled wider. This one would be his legacy. The killer turned and strode into his home. This was his favorite part of the day. *The Unveiling* He thought of it as the shedding of his mask. Earl strolled into his bedroom, stripping off the blue shirt as he went and letting it flutter to the floor. Next went the white undershirt, revealing a tight wrapping around his chest. He continued his walk smoothly into the bathroom, slowly unwinding the binding and sighing as he slowly... surely... became Arlene. She moaned as her breasts were finally freed from their prison. *Like the most constrictive bra ever made* She resisted the urge to scratch madly, quickly undressing and stepping into the shower. Arlene turned the water to a hot temperature and proceeded to scrub away the day's sweat and grime. She steamed up the bathroom and then stepped primly from behind the curtain, a changed person. The killer began her ritual. The ritual she had established from the beginning....with the first murder. She wanted the victims to know it was a woman who killed them. A mere woman. Arlene wanted her father to know, somehow from his deep, deserving grave, that SHE killed them. She relived the killing of her first *lamb* (as she thought of him) in her mind as she dropped her towel to the floor and walked nude to the dresser by the bed. The killer picked up her perfume bottle and began to dab it on her wrists...her neck....behind her knees. She then splashed a little over her palms and rubbed it up and down her arms, over her chest and over the top of her hair. Arlene loved the smell of this cologne. It was sweet...feminine...It smelled like flowers. She applied her makeup with care. Did her hair best she could, considering its boyish cut. Then she donned silky, dainty underwear, a flowery blouse and a pair of faded, blood-spattered jeans. The killer sighed. She would have rather have worn a dress for this, but she was nothing if not practical. She traced one of the light stains with her finger. *Bleach just doesn't work on blood very well* Her attention was diverted by the sight of her nails. She wished she could grow them...paint them. But that would be a dead giveaway in her everyday life. And she had been taught by her father long ago that the world would eat her alive if she lived as a woman. Arlene snorted with ironic amusement. Her father, the very one who made her believe she was inferior for being born female, laughed at her when he discovered she was living her life as a male. She thought she had found a way to earn his approval. She made a pretty fair guy. Her co-workers seemed to appreciate 'him.' She got comfortable with the role. So comfortable, in fact, that she had decided to reveal herself to her father. Big mistake. The man derided her for her delusions. Called her names. Laughed. Said that not only was she a failure because she wasn't a boy like she should have been, but now was a failure at being a woman as well. He thought that was hilarious. Arlene did not. She never spoke to her father again, but continued living as a man. She was addicted to the approval she received at work. And maybe a small part of her still wished she could have been her father's son. When she received word that her parents had perished in a car accident, instead of feeling glad or sad or upset....she merely felt cheated. Now she would never be able to prove to him that she could be what he wanted. The anger built inside her. She hated him for all he had done to her and now she hated him for leaving before she could prove him wrong. She hated her mother for sitting by and doing nothing. The anger built inside her. The trigger came one unlikely afternoon when 'he' was working in a sporting goods store. An employee brought his new baby son in for everyone to see. He bragged and bragged about his son's athletic future. He joked about his obvious budding athletic prowess. Something inside of Arlene snapped. That man's brother had been her first victim. She couldn't bring herself to kill the man himself, not with the new baby. She did have SOME scruples. The next one was easy. Arlene had found him while working at a local delivery company. He was the epitome of a big, dumb, arrogant, jock. It was the third one that shook her a bit. The killer assumed too much about him. She looked at him and saw the same qualities that she had loathed in the second man. It was only after she had already abducted him in preparation for the 'sacrifice' that she had discovered that he had cancer. He had just been diagnosed. She had found the papers in his pocket. Not only that, but in his wallet were pictures of him coaching in a local Special Olympics. Arlene had tried to backtrack. She gave him water in an effort to give herself more time to think of a plan to return him, unharmed. But it was too late. He knew too much. So, she killed him and vowed to be more careful choosing the next one. *And now I have found the perfect sacrifice.* The killer straightened her blouse and smoothed her hair. She regarded her reflection, paused, and smiled. ********************************************************************** **** We're getting close now....