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(Interior of an apartment that looks very similar to MULDER's. A man, PHILLIP PADGETT, is sitting in a chair at the only other piece of furniture in the room - a desk with a typewriter on it. He is slightly built, dark-haired and has a goatee and mustache. The underscoring music (which is awesome, thank you Mark Snow!) - is a musical, repetitive heartbeat theme. The page in the typewriter is blank. A cigarette smolders in the ashtray. Several note cards are taped to the wall across from him. One of them reads "K.N. murders his own best intentions." PHILLIP PADGETT stares at his typewriter. Subsequent shots show him changing position and pacing the room. At one point he drinks a glass of water then holds the empty glass against the wall to listen in on his neighbor. Writer's block seems to have set in. The sun sets and the room goes dim. He lights another cigarette. He turns off the light, lights another cigarette, then goes into the bathroom and throws the cigarette butt into the toilet. Staring into the mirror, he puts his hand inside his shirt. Wet, squishy sounds. Blood begins to flow, then, silently, he pulls out his hand which is now holding his still beating heart.)
(PHILLIP PADGETT goes down some stairs to a basement incinerator. He prepares to empty his wastebasket into the incinerator. In the flames, he sees a burning heart. Short time later, elevator doors open and we see that we are in MULDER's apartment building. SCULLY enters the elevator, joining PHILLIP PADGETT. He stares at her as she presses the "4" button. She glances at him. As they ascend, PHILLIP PADGETT watches her. The camera does a close up on SCULLY's mouth and eyes. Too close - everyone feels uncomfortable with the situation. They reach 4th floor. SCULLY gets off and goes to MULDER's door and knocks. She looks over at PHILLIP PADGETT who pulls out his keys and enters the apartment next door. MULDER finally opens the door. He is wearing a white T-shirt and brushing his teeth.)
MULDER: Mmm, sorry about that. Come on in.
(SCULLY enters and sits on the couch.)
SCULLY: I, uh... I rode up on the elevator with someone. Someone from next door, I think.
(MULDER sits beside her and swallows the toothpaste with a gulp of coffee. Yuck.)
MULDER: Hmm... Young guy?
MULDER: New neighbor. Why?
SCULLY: You met him?
MULDER: Uh, briefly, yeah. He's a writer.
SCULLY: What does he write?
MULDER: He didn't say. SCULLY: These are, uh... these are my autopsy reports from the second victim.
(SCULLY shows him some graphic autopsy pictures. Next door, we see PHILLIP PADGETT standing on a chair next to the heating vent near the ceiling. He puts his ear to the vent and listens to MULDER and SCULLY's conversation.)
SCULLY: As you can see the heart was removed in the same manner as the previous victim. No incisions, no scope marks, no cutting of any kind.
MULDER: No indication of how the killer did it?
SCULLY: No. There's no prints, no DNA material, no hair and fiber.
(Camera shot of MULDER shows the heating vent above and behind his head.)
MULDER: And yet, you still refuse to believe my theory-- that what this is psychic surgery?
SCULLY: Mulder, psychic surgery is some man dipping his hand in a bucket of chicken guts and pretending to remove tumors from the sick and gullible.
MULDER: Or … it's a grossly misunderstood area of alternative medicine.
SCULLY: Well, medicine, as you're referring to it is about keeping people alive.
MULDER: Well, absent another theory how else do we account for the impossible extraction of this man's heart?
SCULLY: I don't know. I have no idea.
MULDER: I mean, we have no evidence-- no MO to speak of. This could be the perfect crime.
SCULLY: Well, a crime is only as perfect as the man or the mind that commits it. Even if it were perfect-- even if he made not one mistake-- there's still his motive. You find his motive and you find the murderer.
(Later, PHILLIP PADGETT is lying in bed smoking a cigarette. He suddenly gets up and goes to his typewriter.
CUT TO: Car parked on Lover's Lane. A girl, MAGGIE, and a guy, KEVIN, are sitting in a parked car.)
MAGGIE: That's why I didn't want to come here, Kevin.
KEVIN: I'm not even doing anything.
MAGGIE: You're thinking about it.
KEVIN: There's a console between us. I mean, how much can I do? You make it sound like I'm an attacker.
MAGGIE: Well, we talked about this.
KEVIN: I told you I loved you.
MAGGIE: Oh, Kevin...
(Exterior shot of the car show them talking. A hooded figure comes out of the bushes and watches them as they kiss for a moment, then MAGGIE pulls away.)
MAGGIE: There you go again.
MAGGIE: That thing that you do. You know what I am talking about.
KEVIN: But that's the way I kiss, Maggie.
MAGGIE: Well, I get the message.
KEVIN: Where are you going?
MAGGIE: No. I can't talk to you.
(MAGGIE gets out of the car and walks away. KEVIN sighs, sits for a moment, thinking. He then gets out and runs after her.)
KEVIN: Maggie! Maggie!
(MAGGIE hears him calling and runs farther away.)
(KEVIN looks around. He sees a figure coming toward him. Music has the heartbeat theme.)
KEVIN: Maggie, come on.
(KEVIN realizes it not MAGGIE. The HOODED MAN chases KEVIN as he runs away. We hear KEVIN grunt as he's knocked to the ground, then hear him screaming "No!" We hear wet, squishy sounds and KEVIN screams louder in pain. Camera then pans over to show KEVIN lying on his back with his chest bloody screaming in horror at his still beating heart which is now held in the hand of the HOODED MAN.)
(PHILLIP PADGETT in his apartment typing: "… beating heart." He pulls the sheet out of the typewriter.)
(SCULLY, wearing a skirt, enters the X-Files office and answers the ringing phone. She doesn't see the white envelope on the floor near the door and steps on it as she crosses the room.)
SCULLY: (on phone) Scully.
MULDER: (on phone) Hey, Scully, glad I caught you. We got a third victim-- 16-year- old kid out on lover's lane.
(MULDER is on Lover's Lane looking down at the body of KEVIN still lying where he was killed.)
SCULLY: (on phone) Are you sure?
MULDER: (on phone) Yeah. I'm sure many a person's had their heart broken out here, but not quite like this. I was hoping you'd be here to explain it in medical terms to the local PD.
SCULLY: (on phone) I'm not sure that I could. Did anybody see anybody?
MULDER: (on phone) No, nothing. I mean, it's like there's nowhere to start on this case. Nothing to ask nothing to say.
SCULLY: (on phone) Well, there's got to be something, Mulder...
(SCULLY sees the envelope and picks it up.)
SCULLY: (on phone) Something about his victims-- why he chooses them, a pattern.
MULDER: (on phone) So far, there's absolutely nothing, Scully. It appears to be just a series of random attacks.
SCULLY: (on phone) An envelope's been slipped under your door.
MULDER: (on phone) Yeah? From who?
SCULLY: (on phone) It's unmarked.
(She rips open the envelope and takes out a small flat object on a chain.)
SCULLY: (on phone) It's some kind of a pendant. Like a charm.
(There is a burning heart imprinted on it. The camera goes into slow motion as SCULLY is frozen gazing at the charm. As PHILLIP PADGETT speaks in voiceover, she appears to become more and more aroused. The camera slowly pans around her. Very surreal and erotic.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: (voiceover) Her prompt mind ran through the golconda of possibilities-- was this trinket from the killer? Was there a message contained in its equivocal symbolism? Was he a religious fanatic who had, in fervid haste licked the envelope, leaving the telltale DNA that would begin his unraveling? She had a condign certainty the killer was a male... and now, as she held the cold metal at her fingertips she imagined him doing the same trying to picture his face.
(CUT TO: Sound of keyboard clicking. Camera pans around PHILLIP PADGETT as he types.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: (voiceover) It would be a plain face, an average face... A face people would be prone to trust. She knew this inherently, being naturally trusting herself. But the image she conjured up was no better than the useless sketch composites that littered her files. Preconsciously, she knew this wasn't her strength as an investigator. She was a marshall of cold facts, quick to organize, connect, shuffle, reorder and synthesize their relative hard values into discreet categories. Imprecision would only invite sexist criticism that she was soft, malleable not up to her male counterparts.
(CUT TO: SCULLY still listening to MULDER in slow motion. She pushes her hair behind her ear and strokes her cheek.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: (voiceover) Even now, as she pushed an errant strand of titian hair behind her ear she worried her partner would know instinctively what she could only guess. To be thought of as simply a beautiful woman was bridling, unthinkable. But she was beautiful... fatally, stunningly prepossessing. Yet the compensatory respect she commanded only deepened the yearnings of her heart... to let it open, to let someone in.
(X-Files office. SCULLY shows MULDER the charm.)
SCULLY: It's called a "milagro." That's the Spanish word for "miracle." It's worn as a lucky charm.
MULDER: It came here for me?
SCULLY: It was dropped off at reception by a man in his late 20s, early 30s... average looking, average build. They weren't able to get a good ID. There are no fingerprints and no DNA from his saliva.
MULDER: (flipping it in the air and catching it) I don't think it's the killer, Scully.
SCULLY: Did you see that it's a burning heart?
MULDER: (sitting at the desk) I see it has a burning heart. But we're dealing with a killer that leaves absolutely no clues. Why would he do something as heavy-handed as this?
SCULLY: Well, maybe it has something to do with his next victim. Maybe he's taunting you.
MULDER: Maybe it's not me at all. Maybe he sent it to you. Maybe it's a secret admirer.
(SCULLY sighs and takes the charm back from him.)
SCULLY: I think I'll check it out.
MULDER: Actually, let me. You've got a 9:00 a.m. with the DC medical examiner. He's going to let you autopsy the latest victim.
(Long pause while SCULLY looks at MULDER.)
SCULLY: Thank you for making my schedule but I think I'm going to have to be late for that appointment.
(MULDER, surprised, watches her go, "What did I do?" expression on his face.)
(SCULLY enters a Catholic church and goes straight to a painting of Christ holding a burning heart. A man standing behind a column watches her. It is PHILLIP PADGETT. He walks over and looks at the painting with her. SCULLY stares at him, obviously uncomfortable.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: I often come here to look at this painting. It's called "My Divine Heart" after the miracle of Saint Margaret Mary. Do you know the story... The revelation of the Sacred Heart? Christ came to Margaret Mary his heart so inflamed with love that it was no longer able to contain its burning flames of charity. Margaret Mary... so filled with divine love herself, asked the Lord to take her heart... and so he did placing it alongside his until it burned with the flames of his passion. Then he restored it to Margaret Mary sealing her wound with the touch of his blessed hand.
SCULLY: Why are you telling me this?
PHILLIP PADGETT: You came here specifically to see this painting, didn't you?
SCULLY: Yes. How did you know that?
PHILLIP PADGETT: I saw you enter. The way you knew right where it was.
SCULLY: I know you. You live next to somebody I work with. Why are you following me?
PHILLIP PADGETT: I'm not. I'd only imagined that you'd come here today.
SCULLY: You imagined it.
PHILLIP PADGETT: Yes.
PHILLIP PADGETT: I'm a writer. That's what I do-- imagine how people behave. I have to admit I've noticed you. I do that... Notice people. I saw that you wear a gold cross around your neck so I was taking a chance with the painting-- explaining something you may have already known. I saw Georgetown parking permits on your car dating from 1993 and a government-exempt sticker that lets you park anywhere you like. You don't live in this area but as a federal employee, you have reason to frequent it. You're fit, with muscular calves so you must exercise or run. There's a popular running route right nearby that you might use at lunch or after work. You'd have noticed this church in passing and though parking is always a problem in this part of town your special privileges would make it easy to visit … not as a place of worship but because you have an appreciation for architecture and the arts... and while the grandeur is what you'd take away from your visit … this painting's religious symbolism would have left a subconscious impression jogged by the gift you received this morning.
(Apparently, he is correct about everything. SCULLY stares at him.)
SCULLY: That was from you?
PHILLIP PADGETT: I have to admit to a secret attraction.
(SCULLY, looks away rolling her eyes, not wanting to deal with this.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: I'm sorry I didn't include a note explaining that but you didn't know me then.
SCULLY: Yeah, and I don't know you now and I don't care to.
PHILLIP PADGETT: I see this is making you uncomfortable and I'm sorry. It's just that I'm taken with you. That never happens to me. We're alike that way.
(SCULLY stares at him, tears in her eyes. She slowly turns and leaves the church.)
(Short time later, SCULLY enters autopsy bay. MULDER and MEs are waiting for her. MULDER speaks to her privately.)
MULDER: (gentle rebuke) Hey, you weren't joking about being late. I was about to start slicing and dicing, myself.
SCULLY: I'm sorry.
MULDER: Where were you?
SCULLY: I was doing some research and learning that I owe you an apology.
MULDER: For what?
SCULLY: The Milagro charm-- you were right about its insignificance.
MULDER: No, I think I was wrong. I think it's very significant. I think it may be a communication from the killer. Most of my research shows that most credible practitioners of psychic surgery believe themselves to be imbued with the Holy Spirit-- that their hands become the miracle tools of God.
SCULLY: (holding up the charm) Mulder, this... is nothing more than a tool used by a lovelorn Romeo who just happens to be your next-door neighbor.
MULDER: Who, the writer?
SCULLY: Yes-- my secret admirer who claims to know the mysteries of my heart.
MULDER: You're kidding.
SCULLY: No, I wish I were. He cornered me today and told me my life story. It was kind of frightening, actually.
MULDER: Is … he our killer?
SCULLY: No. "Frightening" as in too much information and intimate detail. What kills you is his audacity. MULDER: Did you get his name?
SCULLY: (challenging) No, but that shouldn't be too hard to find out, should it?
(MULDER nods, not quite sure what to say.)
(Lobby of MULDER's building. MULDER finds PHILLIP PADGETT's mailbox. He looks around and, seeing no one, pulls out his lockpick and opens the postman's master lock. He pulls out PHILLIP PADGETT's mail, takes out the phone bill then shuts the box again. Eastern Telephonics - Payment Center, Washington, DC 20032 - Phillip Padgett - 2630 Hegel Place Apt. No. 44 - Alexandria, VA 23242. He picks a paper up off the floor walks over to the elevator. PHILLIP PADGETT enters the lobby. MULDER tucks the envelope inside the folded paper and tucks it under his arm. The elevator arrives, a woman gets off and both men get on. MULDER pushes the 4 button and they face each other in that uncomfortable elevator way. PHILLIP PADGETT stares at the folded paper under MULDER's arm.)
MULDER: I'm sorry I forgot your name.
PHILLIP PADGETT: Padgett.
MULDER: (as if remembering) Padgett.
PHILLIP PADGETT: Phillip Padgett.
(PHILLIP PADGETT is staring at MULDER, openly hostile. Major alpha male tension.)
MULDER: You're a writer. Anything I'd know?
PHILLIP PADGETT: I don't think so.
(The elevator opens and they go to their respective doors.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: You're an FBI agent. Working on anything interesting?
MULDER: A murder case.
PHILLIP PADGETT: Anything I'd know?
(They each enter their apartments. Later, PHILLIP PADGETT is typing.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: (voiceover) The overture in the church had urged the beautiful agent's partner into an act of Hegelian self-justification. Expeditiously violating the fourth amendment against mail theft, he prepared to impudently infract the first.
(PHILLIP PADGETT glances up at the heating vent. At the same time MULDER, standing on a chair, has his ear to the vent in his apartment.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: (voiceover) But if she'd predictably aroused her sly partner's suspicions Special Agent Dana Scully had herself become... simply aroused.
(CUT TO: SCULLY finishing up the autopsy. Under the narration she pulls off the bloody scrubs covering her black suit. She takes out the charm again and looks at it.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: (voiceover) All morning the stranger's unsolicited compliments had played on the dampened strings of her instrument until the middle "C" of consciousness was struck square and resonant. She was flattered. His words had presented her a pretty picture of herself quite unlike the practiced mask of uprightness that mirrored back to her from the medical examiners and the investigators and all the lawmen who dared no such utterances.
(SCULLY glances over her shoulder as someone passes by then returns her gaze to the charm. As the narration continues, we see the camera pan past two coffee cups on the bedside table then to a dark-haired man and a red-haired woman lying on a bed kissing. He runs his hand up her leg and under her skirt, then up to her chest. As SCULLY watches him, one arm resting over her head, the dark-haired, mustachioed man slowly unbuttons her blouse and pushes it to the side exposing her black lace bra, then he leans down and they kiss passionately.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: (voiceover) She felt an involuntary flush and rebuked herself for the girlish indulgence. But the images came perforce and she let them play-- let them flood in like savory-- or more a sugary confection-- from her adolescence when her senses were new and ungoverned by fear and self-denial. 'Ache,' 'pang,' 'prick,' 'twinge'-- how ironic the Victorian vocabulary of behavioral pathology now so perfectly described the palpations of her own desire. The stranger had looked her in the eye and knew her more completely than she knew herself. She felt wild, feral, guilty as a criminal. Had the stranger unleashed in her what was already there or only helped her discover a landscape she, by necessity, blinded herself to? What would her partner think of her?
(Back in reality, PHILLIP PADGETT is still typing. Next door, MULDER, listening to the typewriter, opens PADGETT's phone bill. Under the long distance charges it says "No calls placed.")
MULDER: Mr. Popularity.
(MULDER looks up at the vent again, then sighs and leans back onto the couch rubbing his face tiredly. He looks down at the newspaper - "DC MUSE - Opening night at the Theatre!" He picks it up and begins reading it. Out in the hall, SCULLY gets off the elevator and goes to MULDER's door. She hears PHILLIP PADGETT typing next door. We see him type "…compulsion was overwhelming …" He looks up at the knock at his door. He opens it for SCULLY. Throughout the scene she is very uncomfortable.)
SCULLY: Hi. I, um... I was going next door and I thought that I'd return this.
(SCULLY holds out the milagro charm.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: Why?
SCULLY: Because I can't return the gesture. (pause) I can't.
PHILLIP PADGETT: You're curious about me.
(SCULLY looks around at the sparsely furnished apartment.)
SCULLY: You don't have any furniture.
PHILLIP PADGETT: I have what I need. I write at my desk. I sleep in my bed.
SCULLY: You don't eat?
PHILLIP PADGETT: I live in my head.
SCULLY: Writing your books?
PHILLIP PADGETT: Yes.
SCULLY: Anything I'd know?
PHILLIP PADGETT: No. They're all failures...
(SCULLY gives a weak smile.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: Except the one I'm working on now. I think I'm getting it right.
SCULLY: Why now, all of a sudden?
PHILLIP PADGETT: Best not to question it. (pause) See? You are curious about me.
SCULLY: Well, you lead a curious life.
PHILLIP PADGETT: It's not so different from yours I imagine-- lonely.
SCULLY: (looks away) Loneliness is a choice.
PHILLIP PADGETT: So, how about a cup of coffee?
(Next door MULDER looks at a circled ad in the personals of the newspaper. "To Maggie with love on Valentines Day 2/14/99 Kevin." He brings in a stack of other newspapers and begins looking through them. In the other apartment, SCULLY looks at the last words on the page in the typewriter: "How will it end?" PHILLIP PADGETT carries in two mismatched mugs of coffee and hands one to SCULLY.)
SCULLY: (quietly) My life's not so lonely, Mister, um...
PHILLIP PADGETT: Padgett.
SCULLY: It's actually anything but.
PHILLIP PADGETT: Mmm.
SCULLY: How is it you think you know me so well, Mr. Padgett?
PHILLIP PADGETT: I'm writing about you.
SCULLY: Right. (realizes he is serious) Since when?
PHILLIP PADGETT: Since I first noticed you. You live in my old neighborhood.
SCULLY: And you moved into this building by coincidence?
PHILLIP PADGETT: No.
SCULLY: You moved here because of me?
PHILLIP PADGETT: There wasn't anything available in your building and it's not like you spent a lot of time at home. I-I should've said something but I just couldn't get it all down fast enough. To really write someone, I have to be in their head. I have to know them more completely than they know themselves.
SCULLY: (looking at the thick manuscript) This is all about me?
PHILLIP PADGETT: Well, you're an important part.
SCULLY: May I read it?
PHILLIP PADGETT: It's not finished. I can't tell you how helpful it is having you here-- being able to talk with you like this. Would you sit and stay a minute?
SCULLY: You don't have anywhere to sit.
(PHILLIP PADGETT leads her into the bedroom and sets his cup down on the bedside table and messes with the lamp. It doesn't come on.)
SCULLY: (reluctantly) I'm due next door.
PHILLIP PADGETT: (plugging the lamp in) You haven't finished your coffee.
SCULLY: I'm very uncomfortable with this.
PHILLIP PADGETT: Why? You're armed, aren't you?
(As PHILLIP PADGETT turns on the bedside light, the bulb burns out.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: Imagine that. (pushes the curtain away from the window to let a little light in) I'll get a bulb.
(As he goes to get a bulb, SCULLY looks out the window at the red brick wall of the next building. PHILLIP PADGETT enters with a new bulb.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: A view only a writer can appreciate.
SCULLY: If you know me so well then why am I standing here when my instincts tell me to go?
PHILLIP PADGETT: (changing the bulb) Motive is never easy. Sometimes it occurs to one only later. (the light is now on) Please. Sit.
(He puts the shade back on the lamp and they sit together on the foot of the bed. Behind them, the bulb burns out again.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: Imagine that.
(They sit. SCULLY stares straight ahead. PHILLIP PADGETT stares at her. The front door crashes open and MULDER bursts into the room, gun drawn. He is …surprised to see them in the bedroom.)
SCULLY: What are you doing?
MULDER: You all right?
SCULLY: (pointed) Yes.
(MULDER goes back into the other room and begins looking through the manuscript. A few pages flutter to the floor. He looks intently at one of the pages.)
SCULLY: Mulder... what are you doing?
(MULDER hands the page to SCULLY then grabs PHILLIP PADGETT and handcuffs him.)
MULDER: Putting this man under arrest.
(SCULLY sees the words on the page: "…his fantasy come to life…" "… and felt his warm, beating heart.")
(Prison interrogation room. MULDER is questioning PHILLIP PADGETT. MULDER shows him one of the newspapers with the circled personal ad.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: Yes, I've seen this paper.
MULDER: Yeah, it's how you found your victims-- in the personals. They all took out personal ads.
PHILLIP PADGETT: They were lovers.
MULDER: And you targeted them.
PHILLIP PADGETT: I only write about them.
MULDER: No, you targeted...
SCULLY: (softly, warning) Mulder. Not without his lawyer.
(He gives her a look.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: I don't need a lawyer. I'm telling the truth.
MULDER: Then this is your confession?
(MULDER tosses the bagged manuscript to PHILLIP PADGETT.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: No, that's my novel.
MULDER: It's all in there-- every detail, every murder, all laid out. How'd you do it, Mr. Padgett?
PHILLIP PADGETT: If I sit long enough, it just comes to me.
MULDER: The murders.
PHILLIP PADGETT: I only knew what was in my mind and wished to express it clearly.
MULDER: How about "the stranger"? Is that you? How about Ken Naciamento?
PHILLIP PADGETT: The self-proclaimed Brazilian psychic surgeon?
MULDER: Is that your accomplice?
PHILLIP PADGETT: I guess you could say that. He's a central character.
MULDER: Did you direct him to do it?
PHILLIP PADGETT: Jungians would say it's the characters who choose the writer, not the other way around. So I guess you could argue he directed me.
MULDER: (glancing at SCULLY) Which is the truth?
PHILLIP PADGETT: By their nature words are imprecise and layered with meaning. The signs of things, not the things themselves. It's difficult to say who's in charge.
(MULDER starts to step angrily toward PHILLIP PADGETT, but SCULLY places her hand on his arm.)
SCULLY: (softly) Mulder.
(MULDER backs off. PHILLIP PADGETT sadly looks at SCULLY's hand as she releases MULDER's arm.)
MULDER: Why, Mr. Padgett? Maybe that's a question you can answer.
PHILLIP PADGETT: That's the one question I can't.
(MULDER picks up the manuscript and goes to the door.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: Agent Mulder, my book... did you like it?
MULDER: Maybe if it were fiction.
(SCULLY follows MULDER out into the hall.)
SCULLY: Mulder, where are you going?
MULDER: To find his accomplice, the Brazilian psychic surgeon.
SCULLY: (holding up a folder) I did that. That's what I've been doing. Dr. Ken Naciamento, Sao Paulo, Brazil, emigrated here in 1996.
MULDER: Where is he now?
SCULLY: He's dead.
MULDER: He can't be.
SCULLY: Two years dead, Mulder. I'm having them fax me a certificate of death.
MULDER: Padgett couldn't have done this alone.
SCULLY: Well, maybe he didn't do it at all.
MULDER: Scully, it's all on the page. How else would he know it?
SCULLY: Maybe he imagined it, like he said. Like Shakespeare or Freud or- or Jung. I mean, maybe, maybe he has some gift and he has a clear window into human nature.
MULDER: No one can predict human behavior. No one can tell you what another person's going to do.
SCULLY: Well, isn't that what you do, Mulder, as a behavioral profiler? You … you imagine the killer's mind so well that you know what they're going to do next.
MULDER: If he imagines it, it's a priori-- before the fact. I think that's pretty clear from what he wrote about you.
(SCULLY stares at him.)
MULDER: You know you're in here, don't you?
SCULLY: (uncomfortably) I read a chapter. What does he say?
MULDER: (quietly) Well, let's just say it ends with you doing the naked pretzel with "the stranger" on a bed in an unfurnished fourth floor apartment. (pause) I'm assuming that's a priori, too?
SCULLY: (short laugh, not looking at him) I think you know me better than that, Mulder.
MULDER: Mmmm. (after another pause) Well, you might want to finish it.
(He hands her the manuscript and leaves.)
(Later, SCULLY sits at a desk in one of the prison offices reading the manuscript. The door opens and a VERY LARGE GUARD shows her a writing tablet.)
VERY LARGE GUARD: Prisoner's written something I think you should see.
SCULLY: What is it?
VERY LARGE GUARD: He says it's a statement. I think he's putting somebody on.
(He leaves. SCULLY reads the tablet.)
SCULLY: (reading, voiceover) Grief squeezed at her eggshell heart like it might break into a thousand pieces its contents running like broken promises into the hollow places his love used to fill.
(Under SCULLY's narration, we see the girl from the car, MAGGIE, standing alone in the darkness beside KEVIN's flower covered grave. She cries softly. She looks up and sees the HOODED MAN approaching her.)
SCULLY: (voiceover) How could she know this pain would end? That love, unlike matter or energy, was in endless supply in the universe... A germ which grows from nothingness which cannot be eradicated even from the darkest of hearts. If she had known this-- and who could say she would believe it?-- She would not have chanced to remain at his sad grave until such an hour so that she might not have to learn the second truth before the first: that to have love was to carry a vessel that could be lost or stolen or worse, spilled blood-red on the ground. And that love was not immutable and could become hate as day becomes night as life becomes death.
(MAGGIE runs and the HOODED MAN follows her and knocks her to the ground. She screams.)
(MAGGIE screams as the HOODED MAN, KEN NACIAMENTO, gritting his teeth, pulls out her heart and holds it over her. SCULLY looks up from the tablet, very upset. She quickly gathers up the papers.)
(Next day. Cemetery is now a crime scene. MULDER walks over to the car where SCULLY is on her cell phone. As he approaches, she hangs up.)
SCULLY: She's a no-show at home or anywhere else she might go.
MULDER: No signs of a possible struggle at the grave site but the area's been so trammeled by the funeral that collecting evidence is going to be virtually impossible. I think this is a big jerk off.
SCULLY: Maybe his statement's to prove that he's telling the truth-- that he truly just imagined it, Mulder.
MULDER: The only thing that he imagined was us out here...
(MULDER sees a hooded man get out of a pickup truck filled with old flowers from the gravesites.)
MULDER: ...looking like idiots.
(MULDER pulls out his gun while running toward the man. SCULLY runs after him. MULDER leaps on top of the man knocking him to the ground with a very impressive flying tackle.)
MULDER: Hands where I can see 'em! Don't move until I tell you! I'm a federal agent.
(The hood is pulled back revealing a young clean-shaven guy, the CEMETERY WORKER.)
SCULLY: Mulder, that's not him.
CEMETERY WORKER: What'd I do?
MULDER: (still holding his gun on the CEMETERY WORKER) The truck. Check the truck, Scully.
SCULLY: Mulder, he works here.
(MULDER leaves his captive and climbs into the back of the truck. He pushes aside a layer of wilted flowers revealing the body of MAGGIE.)
POLICE STATION MULDER and SCULLY are walking to PHILLIP PADGETT's cell.)
SCULLY: How did you know, Mulder, that the body was in the truck?
MULDER: (putting a finger to his forehead, Karnac-style) I imagined it.
SCULLY: It's still no evidence that Padgett directed the killer.
MULDER: What do you need, a signed work order? Of course he directed him.
SCULLY: Mulder, you are making critical assumptions without any facts. What about time of death? What...?
(MULDER grabs SCULLY's shoulders and turns them 180 degrees.)
SCULLY: What are you doing?
MULDER: You're about to argue my usual side, aren't you?
SCULLY: Mulder, why couldn't he have imagined it? Why couldn't he just be in the killer's head?
MULDER: You read his book. You read what he wrote about you. Are you trying to tell me that he got inside your head? That what I read is true?
SCULLY: (looking away) Mulder, of course not.
MULDER: I don't know how they communicate. This is the only way I can think to catch him.
(PHILLIP PADGETT's cell. MULDER and SCULLY enter.)
MULDER: (apologetically, handing over the plastic wrapped manuscript) Mr. Padgett... you can go. We apologize for our mistake. You're free to finish your book.
PHILLIP PADGETT: Thank you.
(PHILLIP PADGETT exits the cell, then turns back to MULDER and SCULLY.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: I made a mistake myself.
MULDER: What's that, Mr. Padgett?
PHILLIP PADGETT: In my book, I'd written that Agent Scully falls in love but that's obviously impossible. (looking at MULDER) Agent Scully is already in love.
(He leaves. MULDER watches SCULLY watch him go.)
(PHILLIP PADGETT enters his apartment. Heartbeat music again. He sits at his desk, takes off his shoes, and pulls out the last page of the manuscript and prepares to put it in the typewriter. He looks up and sees the HOODED MAN, KEN NACIAMENTO standing in the doorway.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: What are you doing here?
(PHILLIP PADGETT stares at KEN NACIAMENTO. KEN NACIAMENTO speaks with a South American accent. Like PHILLIP PADGETT, he has a goatee and mustache.)
KEN NACIAMENTO: You seem surprised to see me.
PHILLIP PADGETT: Yes. Completely.
KEN NACIAMENTO: Why? I'm your character.
PHILLIP PADGETT: What do you want?
KEN NACIAMENTO: I'm here to help you finish.
PHILLIP PADGETT: I-I can't figure out your motive.
KEN NACIAMENTO: You imagine me so perfectly in every way. So perfectly that you bring me to life. Why did you choose me?
PHILLIP PADGETT: I needed a perfect crime. And she's a doctor. She'd be horrified by what you do.
KEN NACIAMENTO: *I'm* horrified. I just want to know why I do it.
PHILLIP PADGETT: So I could meet her.
KEN NACIAMENTO: That's not a reason. It's an excuse.
(Next door, MULDER adjusts a camera in the vent near the ceiling. SCULLY is sitting on the couch watching the closed circuit monitor they have set up on the coffee table. She sees PHILLIP PADGETT sitting alone at his desk.)
SCULLY: No. He's just sitting there. Staring.
(Next door, KEN NACIAMENTO looks at a section of the manuscript.)
KEN NACIAMENTO: Now what is this?
PHILLIP PADGETT: A big mistake. I misjudged her character-- her interest in me.
KEN NACIAMENTO: Now we're on to something.
PHILLIP PADGETT: She's only trying to get his attention but doesn't know it.
KEN NACIAMENTO: The old unconscious at work.
PHILLIP PADGETT: I wanted to love her.
KEN NACIAMENTO: No wonder you can't finish this book, Padgett. Why do I want their hearts?
PHILLIP PADGETT: You tell me. Why do you do it?
KEN NACIAMENTO: I'm your character. You tell me. My reason is your reason.
PHILLIP PADGETT: I want to feel love.
KEN NACIAMENTO: No. No. You had it right up to there. You were a tool of the truth. And when it finally arrives-- when I arrive-- you don't want to see it.
PHILLIP PADGETT: But what is the truth?
KEN NACIAMENTO: Man imagines that he, too, can open up his heart and expose the burning passion-- the flames of charity-- like the creator himself but this is not in his power.
PHILLIP PADGETT: But I have love in my heart.
KEN NACIAMENTO: Yes, as a thief has riches, a usurer money. You have it... but man's only power, only true power is to destroy it.
PHILLIP PADGETT: Then what's the end of my story?
KEN NACIAMENTO: There can only be one true ending if it is to be perfect.
PHILLIP PADGETT: She dies?
KEN NACIAMENTO: See? It almost writes itself.
(Next door. Later. SCULLY has taken off her boots and is leaning back on the couch with her eyes closed. She hears the typewriter start up and she leans forward to look at the monitor. MULDER comes in from the kitchen carrying a glass of water and sits beside her.)
MULDER: What's he up to now?
SCULLY: He just started typing again.
(SCULLY holds the headphones up to her ear and MULDER takes a sip of water. They watch in the monitor as PHILLIP PADGETT pulls the paper out of the typewriter. He picks up the entire manuscript and walks out of frame.)
MULDER: Now what? (climbs up to the camera and adjusts it to another view of the room) Anything?
(The camera shows that the room is empty. They hear the door slam. They look at each other, then MULDER runs out the door in time to see the elevator doors closing. He runs for the stairs. In the basement, PHILLIP PADGETT carries his manuscript over to the blazing incinerator. MULDER, gun drawn, enters the basement.)
MULDER: Padgett! Freeze. Step away from the incinerator.
(Upstairs in MULDER's apartment, SCULLY finishes zipping up her boot and goes to the door. As she opens it, the hooded man grabs her and pushes her back into the room.)
(In the basement, MULDER comes over to PHILLIP PADGETT.)
MULDER: What do you think you're doing?
PHILLIP PADGETT: Destroying my book.
MULDER: Destroying evidence, you mean. Let me see what you wrote.
PHILLIP PADGETT: I'll tell you. He kills her.
(Up in MULDER's apartment, KEN NACIAMENTO has SCULLY pinned to the floor. She begins crying out in agony as he tries to work his fingers into her chest. Blood begins to stain her white blouse. She frantically tries to get her gun out of the holster.)
(In the basement, MULDER is looking at the manuscript.)
MULDER: You came down here to give these instructions to your accomplice?
PHILLIP PADGETT: No, he told me how it ends.
PHILLIP PADGETT: In my apartment.
MULDER: You were alone up there.
(MULDER looks up as he hears a gunshot. Upstairs SCULLY is firing her gun point blank into KEN NACIAMENTO's chest. The bullets have no effect. MULDER turns and runs up the stairs. SCULLY runs out of bullets. KEN NACIAMENTO begins digging deeper into SCULLY's chest. She screams louder. PHILLIP PADGETT throws the manuscript into the flames of the incinerator and it begins to burn. MULDER, gun drawn, runs down the hall and bursts into his apartment. He is wearing the "panic face" as he goes over to where SCULLY lies alone on the floor. Her chest is covered in blood. He kneels beside her. She wakes, terrified. MULDER grips her tightly until she realizes it is him. She reaches up around his neck and clings to him, desperately clawing at his shoulders. MULDER holds her close. As she begins sobbing into his neck, he also looks like he is about to cry also.)
(In the basement. As PHILLIP PADGETT narrates, we see the camera pan down from the burning manuscript to his body lying on the floor. He is dead, his still beating heart in his hand.)
PHILLIP PADGETT: (voiceover) A story can have only one true ending. Even as the stranger felt compelled to commit his final words to paper he did it knowing they must never be read. To see the sum of his work was to see inside his own emptiness the heart of a destroyer not a creator. And yet, reflected back upon him at last he could see his own ending. And in this final act of destruction a chance to give what he could not receive.