Niles Flynn

-----

Sixteen hours of driving finally had us pulling up to Willow Gardens Psychiatric Hospital. This name wasn’t new to me, I’d been there when the original facility collapsed in an ‘unexplained’ earthquake almost 11 years ago. I climbed out of the Jeep to stretch out, letting Echo sleep a little longer while I waited for whoever I was supposed to meet here. Then I picked up a vaguely familiar scent and straightened up.

“That you, Mulder?” I raised an eyebrow at the familiar detective as he approached. 

“Detective, I hear you’ve got a weird one for me.” He reached out to shake the hand I offered in greeting. 

“To start with, I should probably say I know you’re not FBI.” I flashed my con artist’s smile. 

“But I really do specialize in weird.” 

“Yeah, I did some asking around. You’ve got quite the track record.” I shrugged but didn’t answer as I heard Echo stir in the Jeep behind me. 

“We’re here?” She murmured the words as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. 

“Who’s the girl?” The Detective looked past me toward her as she climbed out the other side of the Jeep.

“She’s in training,” I answered.

“Odd case to bring a rookie.” I wasn’t sure what he meant exactly, based on what I’d heard over the phone and from Michael.

“You said you think it’s a wraith.” He exhaled through his teeth, uncertainty filling the air around him as Echo came around to join us.

“Honestly I’m not sure what it is,” he stuffed his hands deep into his coat pockets and shrugged. “Every witness saw something different and it hasn’t been slowed down by the security so I figured it’s some kind of ghost but I’m not the expert.” He paused, “The coroner said the victims’ brains were saturated in cortisol and adrenaline.”

“Like they were scared to death?” He nodded his confirmation.

“You’re…” Echo trailed off.

“Detective Elliot Walsh, South Boston PD,” he offered her his hand, “I met Mulder here about a year ago on a case.” Echo looked back at me in question briefly before reaching out to shake his hand.

“I’m Echo, just Echo,” she continued when he raised an eyebrow at the name.

“Shall we head inside then? We’re meant to meet with the head practitioner in there. He’ll give us a tour and get us the clearance to walk around freely.” I nodded slightly and motioned for him to lead the way inside.

“Lead the way.”

-----

The new facility, much like the old facility, opened immediately into a large space with a glass domed ceiling with a reception desk and two locked doors beyond it. I was almost surprised by how close it was to the original entrance. Echo looked around with something apprehensive in her scent.

“You okay?” I kept my voice low.

“You have no idea how bad it can be in some of these places,” she replied in kind. A smile flickered across my lips; I reckoned I knew as well as she did. Before I could answer, the scent of demon crossed my nose and I turned in time to see a very familiar face, my blood running cold and the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end like raised hackles as I recognized it.

“Is that you, Reyna?” Echo and Walsh both gave me an appraising glance at the doctor’s familiarity, “You’ve grown since I last saw you. It’s been… what? 10 years?” 

“Give or take,” I replied, keeping my voice low; it was hard to fake happiness to see someone when you’d last seen them dead. I could almost taste his heart in my mouth still. That little episode had been the whole reason I fled to Scotland for answers. “The new facility looks nice.” He smiled and turned back to Walsh and Echo for greetings.

“You must be the Detective Walsh I spoke with on the phone. I’m Dr. Trask, the head practitioner here at Willow Gardens Psychiatric. I had security make these keycards for you so that you can move around as needed, I just ask that you keep them out of the patient’s hands.” I tucked the proffered keycard into my pocket, “The patients are all at dinner right now so I’ll show you around and then take you to security.” 

-----

It was quiet that night as I walked the facility alone, mentally mapping what I’d seen on the security cameras earlier; my memory has always worked better when I’ve walked through a place than just looking at maps. I’d left Echo back in security with Walsh, going over the security footage of the previous victims’ deaths, but all the footage had caught of the culprit was static so I’d lost interest quickly. Instead, I was hoping to pick up a scent. I passed through a door and found myself in the common room for the schizophrenic spectrum’s ward, but the only one present was an older lady in the corner by the window.

“He says you’re here to stop the monster.” I stopped when she addressed me, turning to study her with my mother’s blood, but I only found a human soul.

“Who told you that?” The cover was an investigation, the patient’s weren’t supposed to know details, especially not ones pertaining to monsters.

“The angel told me,” she smiled wide, “he tells me many things.” My first thought was that she was simply delusional and needed her medication adjusted, but I caught the scent of a familiar celestial on her and it made me wonder if maybe she was telling the truth. Wouldn’t be the first time someone got committed because they saw things they weren’t supposed to. It happened to me too. 

“What does he say?” I crouched near her so that we were about eye level, “What does he tell you about the monster here?” She pressed her finger to her lips and closed her eyes for a moment as if to think it over.

“He tells me not to look, not to listen. It’ll only hurt me if I acknowledge its presence.” A chill ran down my spine at that, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up like hackles again because I had a very bad feeling I might know what I was up against. Mimics feed on their victim’s fear, and to better induce that fear, they can twist themselves into anything based on readings from their victim’s mind. They’re also nigh impossible to kill and I was pitifully under armed for this job even with my loaded duffel out in the Jeep. I straightened up and started walking again, resuming my patrol in an effort to keep my thoughts from spiraling into the worst-case scenario. I rounded a corner while deep in thought and found myself almost nose to nose with a massive canine much like the one I see in my reflection but angrier and stained with too much blood. 

“Faither,” I met red eyes and took a careful step back. The thing that looked like my fater but wasn't bared its teeth and followed. The smell of oranges and blood fogged my vision and I bolted back the way I’d come. My feet slid on the corner and my hand hit the floor before I pushed off again and wiped hallucinated blood from my hands. The woman was gone from the common area, maybe her angel had spirited her out of harm’s way. I almost wished for a guardian angel of my own even if it'd have to be fallen to not conflict with Azrael’s blood. But I’ve no angel so I kept running with no plan in mind because security wouldn’t slow it down much. I reached the entryway after slapping my badge across the scanner and headed for the front door hoping I might have something in my jeep that would at least hurt it. Instead, I slammed into it and even left unlocked as it’d been, it didn’t budge. My fist hit the glass and cracks spiderwebbed out but they repaired instantly even as I swung again. Panic was starting to win out because this was not a pretty way to go even with my suicidal bent lately, so I turned on the mimic as it ripped through the doors and pulled my pistol; all I had on me was three clips of salt rounds but it made me feel better about at least. I took aim ready to unload when a blinding light appeared between us, shorting out the lights overhead before a familiar angel appeared in front of me. 

“Hello Reyna,” he placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Gadreel,” maybe the uncertainty was clear in my voice because he smiled in some facsimile of reassurance. Then the light flared up again and we were in the security office with Echo and Walsh.

“Reyna, are you okay?” Echo asked even as my legs turned to jelly and I slumped to the floor.

“Who’s your friend?” Walsh eyed Gadreel warily. 

“An angel—a grigori, but still, an angel’s an angel.” Echo’s brow Furrowed in a mix of disbelief and surprise.

“And you know each other?” Gadreel smiled in something I would almost call fondness.

“She is the only mortal I’ve come across with the audacity to broker a deal with an angel.” I remembered the sound of Ryan Mecatti’s name on my tongue, what it’d felt like to let go of my last chance at a normal life, the taste of Celestial lips and sacrifice.

“You made a deal with an angel?” Walsh eyed me with renewed curiosity as my gaze drifted his way and I cocked my head slowly as I debated how to answer. 

“It’s a long story,” I said slowly. “Setting the whole angel thing aside,” a laugh escaped my lips and there was a tremor in the building to betray my still growing panic at the situation, “we’re stuck in here with that thing.” As if cued by those words, Gadreel flashed out of the room again. 

“Where’s he going?” Walsh sounded more than a little concerned at his leaving.

“Probably to get his charge to safety. There was a prophet in this place.” I pushed myself to my feet and moved past them to the security camera to look for the Mimic before it found us again. My scanning slowed when I noticed smoke beginning to fill the halls near Dr. Trash’s office on the other side of the building. The building rumbled as I found the beast near the front doors still; it’d split apart at the seams, tendrils of flesh feeling out the room with a massive toothy maw so that I wondered how it'd ever looked like my father. I looked back toward Dr. Trask’s office. “I’m going back out there,” if Dr. Trask was a demon, maybe he’d have something I could use.

“Are you insane?!” Echo balked at me. 

“Usually, not today.” I left before she or Walsh could question my plan, I wasn’t about to argue that insanity and desperation went hand in hand.

#

I made it to Dr. Trask’s office and sent a silent thanks to the Corvid Prince for granting me some luck in this otherwise unlucky situation. I’m not sure what I was expecting, given the smoke I could smell all the way back at security by now, but it wasn’t what I found. Dr.Trask had the waste paper bin full of what looked like patients records. I didn't have time to question him before he noticed my presence and lashed out, the demonic energy putting me through the wall behind me. He was one of the more powerful demons I’d met, I knew that then, but I could barely get my feet back under me by the time the noise drew the mimic's interest and I saw someone familiar in Trask's fear. It was understandable, Azrael was the embodiment of death even for things that should be immortal, so it came as no surprise when it spread six mangled black wings and advanced on him, Trask began to stink of urine and terror before his eyes rolled back into his head the dropped dead, though truthfully he’d been dead for ten years, his body was just finally catching up. Then the mimic turned on me and even though I knew it’d do me no good at all, I reached for my pistol. The mimic stopped moving, frozen between Alix and my father in some terrible twisted amalgamation of the two. 

“Reyna.” My gaze found Gadreel there between me and the mimic then. “I have need of you, if you’re willing.” I blinked slowly. 

“You want a deal?”

“I do not specialize in death, as you do, I specialize in boundaries.” 

“You want someone dead?” He smiled, perfect teeth almost shark-like. 

“And in exchange, I’ll grant you the boost you need to take out even a mimic,” he waved a hand off handedly, “temporarily of course.” Desperation can drive you to do some crazy things and I’ve killed for Gadreel before, so it didn’t take much thought. 

“Deal.” He smiled wider before he cupped my face in his hands to pressed soft lips to mine in a deep kiss. Pure celestial power would’ve burned me with Azrael’s blood but grigori are fallen so instead I was just pleasantly warm. Then we parted and Gadreel was gone again as the mimic finished turning on my. Celestial power flooded even my fingertips as I raised a hand in the mimic’s direction; I didn’t have a focus so there was a risk of the spell backfiring but given the situation my choices were to take the risk or die. Well, Gadreel hadn’t been wrong when he said my specialty was death, even without that blood in my veins, I’d killed enough to call it an art.

“Ad báis,” my voice was cold as I put all of my willpower into the words with a flick of my wrist and the mimic jerked; it was a simple motion, as if every vital bone in its body had been twisted out of shape as its organs burst simultaneously. Blood poured from my father’s eyes before the shape dissolved into a puddle of fleshy blood on the floor. My legs sagged as most of my energy was drained in one go. The building trembled harder in a full blown earthquake as my power began to run a bit rampant. 

#

Between the now out of control fire and the disaster level, highly localized earthquake, Reyna wasn’t the least bit surprised to find that for the second time, she was at least partially responsible for the destruction of Willow Gardens Psychiatric Hospital. This time though, she was supposed to get paid for her presence and as she stood with Walsh and Echo in the parking lot watching as the building began to collapse and sirens approached, she’d be impressed if she got off without having to pay for damages. Echo slumped into the backseat of my Jeep leaned against an equally exhausted Walsh while the evacuated patients milled about in the parking lot with us. I was just closing the door as the fire engine rolled up and the arson investigator approached. 

“Can you tell me what happened here?” He shouted to be heard over everything else going on and I shrugged.

“I’d guess faulty wiring.” He wouldn’t have believed the truth if I’d told him. 

“The wiring was up to code.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” He gave me a suspicious look so I breathed a tired sigh, holding myself up on the door of my Jeep. “My partner and I were called in to look into some activity after hours, the fire started while we were inside, I don’t know what else to tell you.” He seemed to relent for now, maybe because of the state of us.

“Stay in town.” I nodded, taking one of my business cards out of my wallet and scrawling my cell number on the back. 

“I’ve still got some business in the area so I’ll be around.”

#

Echo and Walsh were fine, just some bruising and smoke inhalation; I was the worst off of the three of us but I didn’t stick around for the IV they wanted to put me on. I had other things to do in town now that I’d had word from Gadreel. I didn’t ask why, I didn’t want to know too much in case I ended up adding this one to the list of deaths that weigh on my conscience. 

Thanks to Gadreel’s request, I found myself sitting in a pew at a catholic church in the area waiting for a specific pastor to make an appearance. He finally appeared as I was combing my wild hair forward over my shoulder and slid into the pew nearby. 

“What brings you here, child?” I normally resented my natural ability to draw people in, but right now it was coming in handy as I flashed a charming smile. 

“There’s no one left to pray for me, no saving me from myself,” I smiled briefly, my honesty was ten-fold when speaking to someone I knew was going to die soon. “So I’ve come to pray for myself,” I lied. He slid closer and I began to smell something I didn’t like coming off of him in waves. 

“You’ve come to a good place.” I smiled again, my most charming smile as the weight of my punching blade settled comfortably in my hand. 

“Yeah I think I did.” The blade punched into his side between two ribs and panic and fear writ their way across his face as he clapped a hand over the wound in an attempt to stem the blood. 

“What—?” I wiped the blade off on the fabric of his cassock and returned it to my belt before I climbed over the back of the pew. 

“Cinglas,” I muttered the word with a twist of my hand as if turning a lock and the doors locked with a solid click but the magic sparked and bit back my hand; of course a powerful killing curse wouldn’t backfire but I can’t lock a door without it backfiring. 

“Witch,” the man spat at the word as he tried to move away.

“Not exactly,” I replied as I advanced on him again. 

“Demon.” I laughed. 

“Close,” I pulled him roughly to his feet again by a fistfull of his cassock, “but regardless of what I am, I’m here on a favor for an angel,” my smile was cruel, “so you must’ve really fucked up.”

#