Disclaimer disclaimed
Summaries summed
Ratings rated
Duh.

1:30 p.m.
Chicago Field Office

    Scully and Mulder were listening to eyewitness accounts of the 
girls' strange behavior and the subsequent crime scenes. Although the
names and places changed, the scenario remained the same. The girls
were observed exhibiting odd behavior prior to their being murdered.
The crime scenes were the same, too: a seldom used bathroom. In the
midst of reviewing the tapes, Mulder turns to Scully.
    "Hey, Scully."
    "What?"
    "Guess?"
    "You need me to go and do an autopsy while you do...what?"
    "I'm going back to talk to Amy."
    "Why? She's obviously not going to cooperate with us."
    "There's a reason other than the one she gave us. I want to know
what it is."
    "Now, why do I need to do an autopsy? We already know cause of 
death."
    "I want you to find out why the victims went willingly to their
deaths."
    "Fine," she sighed.
    "Thank you very much."

2:00 p.m.
County Morgue

    "Case number 10131121. Subject: Cheryl Anne Owens. Caucasian
female. Age: seventeen. Cause of death: severed jugular. Time of death
approximately 36 hours ago."
    Scully began the autopsy on the last victim. She was shocked to 
see the severity of the injuries inflicted on the girl. There were
marks and bruises all over the corpse. She had been sexually assaulted.
The killer had worked her over good before putting an end to his 
perverted games. However, there was no so much as a scratch on Cheryl
Owens' face. Indeed, the serene expression seemed to be mocking her
devastated form.
    Scully sent blood and tissue samples to the lab to be analyzed.
After which, she turned up even more evidence of the killer's abuse.
Sickened by what she had seen, Scully stopped her examination and 
closed the girl up.

Benefield Residence

    Mulder pulled up to the house once again. And for the second time
that day, he was greeted by Amy's grandfather. This time, the girl was
home. Mulder was shown to the back porch, which had been converted to
an office. Amy sat at a desk in front of a computer screen.
    Hearing footsteps, she looked up. Upon seeing Mulder, her 
annoyance at being interrupted changed to dismay.
    "So...you're back. You're wasting your time. I already told you I
won't help you."
    "Why won't you help us?"
    "Look, that kook already knows me, knows my face. He knows where I
live. It's only a matter of him deciding to finish the job."
    "Amy, this ability you have is extraordinary. Why won't you use
it? It's a gift that many people, myself inculded, would envy. But you
seem to treat it with disdain."
    "Yeah, it's a gift alright. The only problem is I can't give it
back."
    "What do you mean?"
    "Everyday, I have to deal with this. It's not some great thing to
have. I mean, seriously, how would you like to be known as 'Destructo
Girl'?"
    "Since I'll never be a girl, it'll never happen." Mulder replied
with a smile.
    "Ha ha ha." She said, sarcastically. "You have a real tendency to
make everything a joke. It isn't funny, Agent Mulder. I hate it. Do 
you know what it's like to be able to SEE things? Horrible, terrible
stuff that no sane person could even dream of? Can you imagine hearing
a thousand different voices inside your head?" She paused, head cocked
to the side, listening. "And no, it's not schizophrenia, Agent Mulder.
It's enough to make a person *insane*. Sometimes I wish it were that
simple. Then I could just get some therapy and everything would be
alright. It's exhausting trying to sort through everything. Trying to
separate your thoughts and ideas from the millions of other things
swirling around in your brain." She paused again. "Don't even think to
say that you understand and it's ok. Because you can't possibly
comprehend what it's like. And let's not get into the whole 
telekinesis thing. I have to try and keep my emotions in check twenty-
four hours a day, seven days a week, three hundred and sixty-five days
a year. I wish that I could just let it all go and scream my head
off." A rueful grin appeared on her lips. "Hmm." A chuckle. "I'd 
probably be letting the equivalent of a five megaton bomb go off.
Nobody else I know has these problems, or talents, if you prefer. Only
one person out there has the vaguest idea of what it's like for me."
    "And so we get to the heart of the reason you won't help us catch
this guy."
    "Agent Mulder, this kind of thing is new to me and it's unreal. 
All through my childhood, no one could identify with me. I had no one
to identify with. And now, there's someone who knows exactly what it's
like. Do you know what the only difference between me and him is? No,
not that he's a psycho and I'm not." She smiled at him, really smiled.
"The difference is, there is no difference. We're the same. The only
difference is the environment we were raised in. I have a loving, 
close family. He was rejected and tormented by his parents, especially
his mother. The woman was a self-absorbed bitch who took every minute
to remind him of how weird he is and how he is a curse, a pox on the
family."
    "Sounds very Freudian." Mulder said.
    "Classic, isn't it? I can understand what he's going through.
So...now you know. Besides, I'm not too anxious to kill the bastard."
    "Kill? Who said anything about killing?"
    "Don't you get it? If we meet, if our 'energies', for lack of a 
better word, clash, someone is going to die. I'd prefer it not to be
me."
    "Is that the reason he didn't kill you before?"
    "Yeah, well, he got mighty close." Amy pulled the collar of her 
turtleneck sweater away to show him the scar running from ear to ear.
"What happened was, I got agitated. You know what happens when I get
agitated." She grinned at her understatement. "Well, it so happens 
that our boy got agitated, too. Some really crazy shit was going on in
there, man."
    Mulder, after having stood in the doorway for so long, took a seat
on the single step leading from the kitchen to the porch.
    "Oh, I'm sorry to have kept you standing for so long. Would you
like to sit in the chair?" Amy gestured to the extra chair that sat in
the office next to the dexk.
    "No, I'm ok. Please continue."
    "Well, like I said, there was some freaky shit going on in there.
Lights were flashing, we, the killer and I, were glowing with some
sort of aura. This was in addition to the 'normal' chaos that seems 
to surround me. When he saw what was going on, he got panicky and
ran."
    "How come none of this was in the police report? Why didn't you
tell them all of this?"
    "They never would've believed me." She said simply. They sat in
silence for a moment.
    "Do you think he'll come after you?" Mulder asked.
    "I don't know." She answered him dolefully. "I hope not."