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anonymous-dentist · 7 months ago

Text

The following story is inspired by actual documented accounts.

I was first introduced to Agent Cellbit upon the request of Agent Elena....

"How aware are you of Agent Cellbit?"

The office is dead silent. There's the clock on Elena's desk, stopped. There's Elena's breathing, and Roier's.

It's... awkward.

But Roier shrugs and answers with an easy smile on his face: "I've heard of him. He's some kind of genius, right? He's solved, like, all of your cases for you since you recruited him. He's the Enigma Guy."

Elena's left eye twitches slightly. The man with the cigarette turns towards the window.

"You're right," Elena says. "But, recently, he's gone... weird."

"He's always been kind of weird, though, right?" Roier asks.

"Yes, but now he's." She lets out a breath, clasps her hands in front of her on her desk, looks Roier in the eyes. "What do you know about the X-Files, Agent Roier?"

Roier blinks, confused. "They're cases the Federation doesn't want to deal with because they're too weird. Aliens and stuff, right?"

Elena nods. "The unexplained and impossible. But they're what Agent Cellbit has become obsessed with, and now he won't work on any actual cases. We would like you to complete a psychological profile of him and determine whether or not he's still fit for duty."

It's Roier's turn to nod. Of course, right. He's the psychologist... technically. He does more crime-fighting than psychoanalyzing these days, but he can do both. He's great at multitasking.

The man with the cigarette doesn't turn away from the window. His hair, pure white, shines in the sunlight.

Roier stares at him. Who is this guy?

Elena clears her throat, says, "We would prefer it if you didn't let Agent Cellbit know that he's being monitored."

"Of course," Roier responds. No shit.

He isn't an amateur. He's a FBI agent! He's got this!

Agent Cellbit is in the basement along with the X-Files themselves. He has his own office, and he's never interrupted. He doesn't have a partner, unlike most other agents, and he's become so reclusive recently that people are starting to think that he's dead.

But, no, he's alive.

"I can't believe that they think I'm crazy," Cellbit scoffs.

He's alive, and he's short. He's about at the same height as Roier's chin, but he more than makes up for it with how freaking cool his hair is. The white streak in his bangs goes down through his eyebrow, eyelashes, and his facial hair. And his eyes, they're so blue that he can probably see into another dimension. (Not that those are real.)

He's dressed neatly, at least: he's following bureau policy save for the lack of a tie and a pair of hiking boots where a pair of standard loafers should be. He has a pair of reading glasses pushed up in his hair, and he looks exhausted, and he's exactly who Roier had been picturing through all the rumors.

Cellbit isn't looking at Roier. He's rummaging through a bunch of papers on his mess of a desk, instead. He's pissed, and for good reason! His bosses think he's nuts!

Roier doesn't argue. He didn't mean for Cellbit to see through his lie of being his new partner, but he didn't not expect it; Agent Cellbit is a genius, everybody knows it.

"I'm not crazy," Cellbit says. He turns and points a finger at Roier. "Don't put that in your report. Crazy people always say that they aren't."

He goes back to his desk before Roier can say anything.

Roier rolls his eyes. Wow, rude!

He looks around the office. There are posters plastered across every inch of every wall, each one with something absolutely insane on it: aliens, UFOs, werewolves, vampires. There's even something that looks like the Loch Ness Monster that Cellbit has labeled 'MERMAID?????' in big red letters.

"Since you're here," Cellbit sighs, finally finding what he wanted on his desk and grabbing it, "can I get your opinion on something? Psychology really isn't my thing anymore."

Okay, that's a lie, Roier read Cellbit's profile before heading to the basement. Prior to becoming a Federation employee, Cellbit was a detective specializing in violent crime. He was, and debatably still is, an expert in criminal psychology. He can just get into killers' heads and figure them out, and, honestly? Roier's jealous. Just a little.

Just a little.

Reaching over and poking at his laptop's track pad, Cellbit opens a PowerPoint presentation that projects itself onto the wall behind Roier.

Roier turns to look at it. And he's immediately met with a photo of a dead girl in a pile of leaves. Blood is streaking down her nose, and her eyes are shut. She's in her pajamas.

"Elisangela Neide," says Cellbit, "the fourth person to die in this exact way, in this exact location."

He taps to the next slide. This photo is (presumably) of the victim's back, and two raised bumps next to each other on it.

"But," Cellbit continues, "she is the first to have been discovered with these marks on her lower back."

"Mosquito bites," Roier immediately says. "Look at the forest she's in, it's gotta be full of mosquitos."

"Sure, but they aren't mosquito bites." (Cellbit clicks to the next slide.) "See this? It's the chemical formula for the compound found around the marks."

The formula is... weird. Roier didn't pass chemistry on his first try, but he knows something organic when he sees it. This is organic, definitely, but-

"And," Cellbit continues, "we might already have the killer on record."

He clicks to the next slide and moves to stand next to Roier. The file in his hands is open and showing the same mugshot that's on the presentation: a young man with blank eyes staring at the camera.

Roier shudders. Creepy.

"Here's why this case is with the X-Files," Cellbit explains. "The killer claims to have been working under the orders of aliens."

Roier gives Cellbit a look. "Aliens aren't real. We'd know if they were."

"Unless the government was hiding them from us, but, sure, keep believing that."

"Whatever. If we know the killer, why is the case still open?"

"Because he was in a coma when the four murders happened. Despite that, his fingerprints were found on three of the four bodies, and he's gone to the police in his city almost daily since waking up from his coma saying that he's the killer."

...Huh.

Roier takes another look at the file in Cellbit's hands. Missa Muerto, what a fucking name. Was in a coma for four years after a car accident, has been awake for two weeks, woke up the day after the discovery of Elisangela Neide's body. Fingerprints were not found on her body, but were found on the previous three victims'.

"Weird," Roier comments. He looks back up at Cellbit, meeting his eyes and smiling. "So, are we going?"

Cellbit frowns and backs away slightly, pulling the file close to his chest.

"You aren't actually my partner, you know," he says.

"No, I am. I'm just also here to make sure you're doing your job."

"And psychoanalyzing me."

"Maybe, maybe not. But that isn't important. What is important," Roier says, gesturing towards Missa's projected mugshot, "is bringing the actual killer to justice. Whether it's this guy or not, we need to figure out what's going on."

"...You still think he's the killer?"

"I won't know until I get to interview him myself. Soooo... let's go?"

Cellbit stares at him for a second before turning away with a small huff of laughter. "You really are a psychologist."

And Roier chooses to take it as a compliment. Finally, he's getting some appreciation!

Missa Muerto is currently being held in custody in a psychiatric facility in his home city, and so that's where Roier makes Cellbit take him first.

But, before they get to the hospital, their car stops right in the middle of the road.

Roier, driving, groans and slams his foot against the gas pedal a few times. "Come on!"

Cellbit's eyes are wide, and his reading glasses are on, and the case file is in his lap.

He leaves his glasses and the file behind and clambers out of the car, ignoring Roier's questioning noises.

Rolling his eyes, Roier gets out and follows Cellbit around to the trunk of the car. He watches as Cellbit opens the trunk, digs around a little, and pulls out a shiny orange can of spray paint.

Cellbit takes three big steps backwards, nearly trips on his own shoelace, turns around, and paints a big orange 'X' over the road.

"Electronic interference is a classic sign of alien activity," he explains.

"Yeah, or we just have a shitty car," Roier snorts. "Come on, help me push this thing."

Just as he turns around, the car starts back up again. All by itself.

"See? Aliens," Cellbit insists. "Missa is right."

He heads back to the car, but Roier lingers just for a moment. He stares at the car, and then he looks up at the sky.

Nothing.

They finally manage to meet with Missa, and the first thing Missa does is insist that Roier and Cellbit both prove that they don't have anything shoved up their noses.

Cellbit chooses to blow his nose as proof. He shows Missa the empty tissue; Missa considers, sighs, and nods his approval.

Roier takes a slightly different approach.

"Come and check for yourself," he tells Missa. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and turns the flashlight on and holds it out. "Here."

"Roier..." Cellbit warns.

But Missa just snatches the phone up and holds it to his chest, the flashlight shining right into Roier's eyes.

"You know what you're looking for, right?" Roier asks, squinting through the light.

Missa nods, hesitant.

More hesitant, he takes a step closer. And then another step. And another.

"It's small," he mumbles, his feet and his words both unsure. "Metal. Kind of shaped like a piece of candy. They put one up me and I can't get it out."

Roier generously tips his head back so Missa can inspect his nostrils properly.

"Nobody believes me," Missa breathes. "But it's real! It's right here!"

He taps the side of his nose vigorously. Now that he's closer, Roier can see blood crusted around the rim of Missa's right nostril. Nosebleed, or he was trying to get the... thing out himself.

"Has anybody done an x-ray?" Cellbit kindly asks.

Missa nods, shining the flashlight right up Roier's nose. "They didn't see anything, but that's impossible! Because it's there! I can feel it!"

He peers into Roier's nose, entirely too close for Roier's comfort. But, really, it's fine. Roier's own dad does weird shit with flashlights all the time, this is fine.

"The aliens put it there?" Cellbit asks.

Missa freezes. "Them."

His hand starts to shake. So do his knees.

Suddenly, he drops Roier's phone and grabs him by the shirt with both hands in a white-knuckled grip.

"Please," he pleads, face twisted up in desperation, "you have to stop me! They say that I have one more to bring them, but I can't! I don't want to!"

Cellbit makes a move closer, but Roier gives him a Look (capital-'L'), and he stops.

Gently, Roier raises his hands and wraps them around Missa's wrists. Loose, easy to break out of.

"Have you ever tried just... telling them 'no'?" Roier asks.

Missa pauses. "Uh. Well..."

Roier takes the opportunity to pull Missa off of him.

"To me, it sounds like you're in a toxic relationship with them," he says. "You're doing good by asking for help. That's step one. Step two is taking accountability."

"But I am taking accountability!" Missa shouts. "I confessed to the murders!"

"And that's good! That's step one-and-a-half. But now you need to do step two, which is you taking accountability for yourself. You need to cut them off."

"How?!" Missa cries.

And then he screams, collapsing to the floor and curling into a ball.

His hands, of course, fly to his nose.

Roier immediately drops to his knees next to Missa. Cellbit kneels on Missa's other side. Neither of them move as a squad of nurses and orderlies rush into the room and start trying to help Missa off of the floor.

"Another!" Missa screams. He thrashes in the nurses' grips, blood leaking out from between his hands. "I can't do it! I won't! I can't! No!"

Roier watches as Missa is taken away. He frowns.

"I think he broke my phone," he say, not looking at his phone, still on the floor. "What the fuck was that?"

He looks to Cellbit, who's just smiling.

He's smiling.

"Well, Doctor Roier?" he asks, turning his head to smile creepily in Roier's direction. "What's your diagnosis?"

Roier absently scratches his nose, avoiding Cellibt's gaze.

"I think that he needs help," Roier says.

"That's fair. I think that we need to redo Elisangela Neide's autopsy and check her nasal cavity."

"What, you think Missa was right?"

"I think that you need to expand your horizons. Sure, he might be crazy, but his nose basically exploded as soon as you told him to stop listening to the aliens. They're listening. Who's to say that he's the only one they're listening to?"

The autopsy is done again. Cellbit stays and watches. Roier doesn't. (He hates the smell of dead people, yuck!)

After a few hours, Cellbit comes out of the morgue with a little glass vial held triumphantly in his hand.

"I knew it!" he crows, wiggling the tube around like a chemist.

Roier snatches the vial as soon as it's within reach, and he almost immediately drops it.

"What the fuck?" he wheezes. "Why is it heavy!"

He manages to catch it, but just barely.

And then he sees it: a dull metallic object vaguely shaped like a pill. Little wires poke out of cracks in its... shell? Its shell.

Slowly, Roier looks up at a giddy Cellbit.

"Try explaining this in your report," Cellbit taunts. "If I'm crazy for seeing this, then so is the medical examiner. And so are you."

...Fuck, Roier's report!

Sliding the vial into his coat pocket, Roier stands and meets Cellbit's gaze.

"This isn't about the report," he lies. "This is about the truth. Like I said back at the office, this isn't about me proving that you're crazy. It's about finding out who's actually killing people out here."

"Right," Cellbit dryly responds. "And who do you think is 'actually killing people out here'?"

"You're gonna say it's aliens, but I think it's something way simpler. Like a cult. That's the 'them' that Missa is so scared of. They convinced him to kill Elisangela Neide, and they convinced him that he killed the other three victims. Obviously."

Cellbit looks frustrated. Good, Roier feels frustrated.

"A cult," Cellbit flatly says. "Right. A cult is sticking metal tracking devices up people's noses and sending them psychic messages."

Again, frustrated, Roier throws his arms in the air and shouts, "I don't know, man! This is weird!"

"Exactly! Now you know why I have to be the one handling these cases. I'm the only one taking them seriously!"

Roier is ready to start a proper argument, report be damned, but he's stopped by Cellbit's phone ringing in his pocket.

Cellbit takes his phone out and answers the call: "Hello?"

He frowns: "Who is this?"

He pales: "Oh. He- what?"

He sighs: "We're on it."

The call ends. He puts his phone away, scrubs at his face with his hand, sighs again.

He then looks at Roier and explains, "That was the hospital. Missa escaped. The last thing he told the nurses was that he was going to 'take accountability'."

Roier's blood freezes.

Ah. Shit.

"Aren't you supposed to be a psychologist?" Cellbit demands as they run through the forest outside of the hospital.

Roier puffs out his cheeks in annoyance. "I'm a psychologist, not a therapist! I'm not trained to actually deal with patients!"

"Are you even trained at all?"

Roier trips over an exposed root and nearly falls, but he narrowly manages to catch himself on a tree.

Leaning against the tree, he shoots Cellbit a dirty look.

"What were you doing, eh?" he snaps. "You were just standing there!"

He takes off again after Cellbit, who hadn't slowed down or stopped to wait. Asshole.

"I was observing," Cellbit huffs. "Keep an eye out for Missa."

"Well, yeah."

"And listen for any strange noises."

"Like what?"

They both skid to a stop as a sudden high-pitched whine fills the air around them, like metallic fingernails scraping down a chalkboard.

Cellbit claps his hands over his ears. "Like that!"

He looks up at the sky. Roier doesn't. Why should he?

"What is that?" he asks.

And then there's a familiar-sounding scream from deeper in the woods.

"Missa!" Roier yells. "Hold on! Don't do anything stupid!"

Ignoring Cellbit's protests, he pulls his gun out and bolts in the direction the scream came from.

"I'm done with you!" Missa shouts. "Leave me alone! Find someone else to bring them to you!"

Leaves crunch and skid under Roier's feet. Twigs snap in his face, leaves pull at his hair.

The noise continues, and it only grows louder the closer Roier gets to Missa.

"First it was Alexandre," Missa rants, barely able to be heard above the noise, "and then it was Reyna, and then it was Casper, and now it's Elisangela! You say you need one more, well! Fuck you, aliens!"

Gasping for breath, Cellbit manages to catch up to Roier. He's pulled his own gun out, and did Elena really let the supposed security risk leave the office with a firearm? What the fuck?

"He was scared of them this morning," Cellbit wheezes. "What the fuck happened?"

"Maybe I am good with patients after all!" Roier suggests.

"That was terrible advice!"

"I'm not a relationship counselor!"

"I can tell!"

Missa continues ranting and shouting even as the noise grows louder and louder. He's unintelligible at this point, speaking in a language that Roier can't understand. (What is it, French?)

The trees are starting to thin out around Roier. A clearing? Gotta be. That's where Missa has to be.

And, Roier realizes as he approaches the tree line, it's where Missa's four victims were found dead.

Missa stands in the middle of a field of leaves and blood staring up at the sky. Wind whips around him, twisting his hair into knots and ruffling his hospital gown so hard that it's starting to tear. His nose is bleeding again.

Roier skids to a stop and aims his gun towards Missa's knee. Just in case he tries to run, that's all.

"Missa, look at me," he carefully says. "Don't listen to them."

Missa doesn't look at him. Missa doesn't look at anything.

His eyes, Roier notices, are a pure black color. They almost seem to be oozing black gunk. It's like he's crying.

"Missa!" Roier calls. "Look at me! Whatever they're telling you is wrong! You're better than them, you know that!"

Next to him, Cellbit quietly says, "Roier. Look up."

He's looking up.

And so Roier does as well.

He looks up, and he sees a bright light, and-

Agent Cellbit is fit for duty, but that he needs someone to keep an eye on him. He's invested in his cases, but that means that he needs a partner willing to both act as the skeptic and entertain his wild theories. Otherwise, there is a small possibility of him going rogue. Agent Cellbit appears to be psychologically sound, but further study is needed to make a sound conclusion. I, Agent Roier Brown, submit this report to the committee of sound mind.

Elena doesn't look too impressed.

"You do realize how ridiculous this sounds, right?" she asks, closing the file and placing it on her desk. "A UFO? Really?"

"Maybe a UFO," Roier corrects. "I didn't get a good look at it. It was... really bright."

"Right."

Elena pinches the bridge of her nose. The man with the cigarette is still facing the window.

"Do you, at least, still have the 'metallic object' the medical examiner retrieved from the victim's nose?" Elena asks.

Roier nods and smiles and reaches into his pocket. "Yep! Right here."

He pulls the vial out and places it on Elena's desk.

The man with the cigarette turns around. His suit is white, and so is his cigarette smoke.

Elena's eyes widen slightly. She picks up the vial, turns it around, holds it up to the light. Holds it out for the man with the cigarette to take.

"I see," she awkwardly says.

She coughs even more awkwardly and adds, "As per your report, I'm going to be permanently assigning you to the X-Files unit with Agent Cellbit. Keep an eye on him. If he starts to go AWOL, contact me immediately."

Roier nods again, slightly less smiley. "Got it."

It's her turn to nod. "That will be all, Agent Roier."

Roier nods one last time.

He stands.

He leaves.

He scratches his nose once he's out the door.

Cellbit is outside waiting for him with a new file in his hand.

"They still haven't found Missa's body," he says.

Roier rolls his eyes. "What happened to 'hello'?"

"And the local file for the deaths he caused has vanished. I called, and they told me that there was a fire. Every file was found intact except for Missa's."

Roier thinks back to the light in the sky and the figure within it. Its hand was extended downwards, and Missa's hand was extended up.

"The only copy left is the X-File," Roier supposes.

Cellbit nods. "I won't let him be erased."

That's what the X-Files are for, Roier realizes. They aren't about aliens or monsters or whatever-the-fuck.

They're about remembering those who would otherwise be forgotten. Those that are meant to be forgotten.

Maybe Cellbit isn't that crazy, after all.

(But Roier volunteered to help him for the foreseeable future, so what does that say about him?)

[For Spiderbit Week Day Three: Sci-Fi | First Meetings]

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#i don't think i've ever shaken from anticipation writing a fic before lol #because I LOVE THIS SHOW SO MUUUUUUCH #tbh idk how i feel about this one but i think i like it #it's a little hard to match them with mulder and scully lol

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