An X-Files/Hunger Games Crossover Fanfic
DISCLAIMER: All characters from the X-Files are property of Chris Carter, 10/13 Productions, and Fox Studios. The Hunger Games is the property of Suzanne Collins and the Scholastic Publishing Company. I do not own any of the plots, characters, or other material from the aforementioned TV show/books.
After reading back through my first attempt at a Hunger Games/X-Files Fanfic I decided to redo it, starting from the beginning. So here it is—the revised version of The X-Games.
Also… I know it is inconsistent that this fic is supposed to take place during the middle of the X-Files series but in it the Hunger Games already exists… I really didn't think about that much when I wrote it, but I just wanted to point it out so no one would bash me for it. :) Anyway… hope you enjoy! And also, if you have the time, tell me what you think! :D
- Piper Kalena West
I'm standing in the middle of a silent crowd. My heart, my breath—everything has stopped. The faces of the people around me blur in and out as I adjust to my new surroundings, try to understand what is happening.
My eyes rise above the heads of the crowd, finding the face of the woman standing on the stage. Her hair is a strange shade of white-purple, and she has massive amounts of makeup on around her eyes and lips. She's holding a microphone up to her heavily painted mouth, her eyes sparkling as she begins to speak.
"Citizens of District Twelve, I am proud to announce a slight change in the rules for this year's Hunger Games. As most of you have surely noticed, it's been a bad year for crops, in all Districts. Even those of us in the Capitol have felt its affects…" she pauses, shaking her head and looking momentarily forlorn, "Due to this shortage, President Snow has allowed us to bend the rules, for this year only. As I'm sure you've all heard, this year we are allowing adults—any age, as long as they're over twelve—to submit their names for the reaping. That way the families who need extra tessera but don't have teenage children can get extra food and oil; plus it's just much more exciting for everyone!" she bounces up and down on the balls of her feet, grinning excitedly at the tense crowd. Then she clears her throat and continues, "Anyway… let's get on with it, shall we? First, the girls!"
I watch, still completely disoriented, as the strange woman turns to one of the two huge globes positioned on either side of her. Slowly, carefully she reaches into the globe and pulls out a tiny slip of paper. She holds it up in front of her face, and for the first time the crowd around me stirs. They sound excited, but not in a good way. A few people are actually in tears now, while others have their hands pressed to their face as if in terror.
"And the tribute for District Twelve is…"
The crowd draws a collective breath.
At first I can't process the strange woman's words. I'm still too messed up to really understand. But then I feel strong hands on my shoulders, guiding me through the crowd. We reach the stage, which I am guided up onto. I feel someone take me by the wrist and force my hand up into the air.
"Dana Scully!" the strange woman holding the microphone turns to me, her blue eyes glittering, "Let us welcome our female tribute for District Twelve!"
The crowd doesn't cheer. They don't even clap. Actually, they're all watching me with some deep, powerful emotion shining in their eyes. Pity? Fear? I can't quite put my finger on it, but my instincts tell me that I must be in some sort of danger.
The purple-haired woman gives me a dazzling smile and then turns back to the crowd. "And now… the male tribute!" Again she turns, this time thrusting her fist into the second globe. She catches a slip of paper between her fingers and pulls it out, straightening it out in front of her face. "Alright! District Twelve, your male tribute will be…" she pauses for effect, "Fox Mulder!"
My heart stops. My breath catches in my throat. That name; those two words alone, have the power to knock me out of the realm of disorientation and into reality once more. I raise my head, my eyes flashing out across the crowd as I choke out a single word:
And then I see him, pushing his way toward me through the crowd. His dark hair is sticking up all over the place and his hazel eyes are wide as they meet mine. I see his lips part and then form around my name as he returns my call. "Scully!"
I try to step toward him as he leaps up onto the stage, but the same uniformed men who escorted me up onto the stage grab my shoulders and hold me back. I struggle against their grip, but one of them digs his fingers into the back of my neck and I go limp, my heart rate and breathing accelerated to almost ten times their normal speeds.
Two more of the strange uniformed men grab Mulder's arms, pinning them behind his back as he makes an attempt to reach me. I hear him cursing and snarling angrily, but he has the good sense not to resist for too long.
The announcer woman turns to Mulder, almost bouncing up and down with excitement. "What a handsome young man!" she shoots me a quick glance, "Do you and Miss Scully know each other? Are you family? Friends? Or more?"
Mulder ignores her, his eyes fixed firmly on me. I duck my head and look away, actually embarrassed by the strange woman's remark.
"Okay, well I'm sure there will be plenty of time for getting to know one another later!" the strange woman trills, spreading her arms wide as she turns to address the crowd once more, "That's all for today! Remember to keep tuned in—I'm sure this year will be especially exciting! Oh, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"
. . . . . .
All of this flashes through my mind as I stand on a small circular platform, my body encased in a sheath of clear glass-like material, preparing to enter the arena. Everything that's happened over the last few days—first the reaping, then the train ride, the training, the interviews, the costumes, the prep teams, the presentation of our skills before the Gamemakers, and now…
Only six days ago, while Mulder and I were running a name-scan through some old FBI criminal records, we came across a file labeled 'Amber, Rosetta'—a twenty-nine year old female serial killer believed to have killed thirty-five law enforcement officers over the last seven years… a dangerous psychopath obsessed with her deadly game of criminal cat-and-mouse, which she seemed especially fond of playing with cops and FBI Agents. Intrigued, Mulder had insisted we look into the case. Somehow—don't ask me how; it's like he has this seventh sense or something—Mulder managed to track Rosetta Amber down in a crowded plaza just outside of Washington, DC. I think he tracked a signal from her phone, but how he tapped into her signal in the first place is still a mystery to me.
I feel my body stiffen as the capsule around me jolts and begins to move upward. I close my eyes, trying to hold on to my sanity. This cannot be happening… But it is. And there's no stopping it.
Again, I flash back to the events leading up to this moment, trying to make sense of it all.
When we caught up to Rosetta in the plaza, Mulder tried to approach her. But she saw us coming and took off, forcing us to give chase. We followed her down into an abandoned skyscraper's basement, making our way down to the third floor as the chase escalated into a full-blown criminal-hunt. We were about to begin a full search of the premises—which would include calling in backup—when Rosetta appeared out of nowhere and shot Mulder square in the chest with some sort of taser gun. I remember screaming his name as he fell to the pavement, his eyes wide with shock as the tiny ball of electricity from Rosetta's gun sent a powerful charge through his body. But before I could even draw my gun to retaliate, Rosetta had turned on me and fired another ball of energy straight at my heart. And then it was all over. My vision went black, and for a while I was unconscious, completely unaware of anything.
And when I woke up again I was here; here in the world of the Hunger Games Trilogy, standing in the middle of a silent crowd as Effie Trinket called out my name.
I don't know how to explain it. I've been wanted to ask Mulder about it—if anyone is going to know what's going on it would be him-but throughout all of the interviews and training and everything, we've been kept deliberately apart. Every time I tried to approach him; every time I called his name, the Peacekeepers—as I now know they are called—would come between us, forcing us to again go our separate ways. It's infuriating, knowing that he's so close and yet so far; always just a train-car or locked door away…
So I've done my best to play along. I guess I don't have much of a choice.
Honestly, I have no clue what's going on—my guess is that this world is part of some high-tech virtual-reality program—so I'm holding my tongue until I can get some answers out of Mulder. I mean, the guy obviously knew that there was something different about this case. He wouldn't have been interested if there wasn't.
My eyes snap open as the platform I'm on rises up through the ground and comes to a stop. For a second I am completely disoriented, my senses lost in the haze of bright blue that has appeared around me. It takes me a second to realize that what I am seeing is the sky and the sea, both an equally mesmerizing deep blue. All the tributes are now standing in our tiny capsules in the middle of the glimmering sea, the nearest land appearing almost half a mile from where we stand. I'm an okay swimmer, but it's definitely not my specialty. The clothes I am wearing are almost certain to impede my efforts, but I can feel the cameras on me now and know I can't just take them off. Anyway, I'm sure I'll want to be well dressed later. According to what I've picked up in snippets of chit-chat and discussion, every year the arena is slightly different—and dangerous in a slightly different way.
Earlier this year, during a vacation to Hawai'i, I took the time to read the first book in the Hunger Games Trilogy. I'm almost sure this is the same world, maybe a virtual reality created around the books' storylines. Well, at least I know what to expect. Kind of.
I hear the signal to begin resound through the air around me, and the casing of my capsule falls away. I tense, ready to dive into the water at any moment. But I hesitate, and I'm glad I do. One tribute reaches down into the water as if to test its temperature. There's a crackling sound, and she withdraws her hand with a scream. The tips of her fingers are burned black.
A few more seconds pass in silence as everyone waits for everyone else to take the first step off their platform and into the sea. Finally the boy tribute from District 4 leans down and brushes his fingers carefully across the top of the water. They sink into the liquid, but he does not cry out and his flesh remains pink and smooth. He turns and gives us all a grin before diving off of his platform and into the deep blue water.
Of course that triggers a free for all with everyone diving in every which way, thrashing and banging into each other as they try to get ahead. I stay on my platform, along with three other tributes and Mulder, as the rest of the group shove and splash their way toward shore.
After a few more moments the other three tributes take off as well, leaving Mulder and I alone in the middle of the sea.