The X-Files

Help!

Help!

Somebody help me!

Help!

Oh, he's gonna kill me!

Help! God, somebody help me!

Go away!

Help!

Please help me!

help!

Mulder?

Look at that.

Huh? Huh?

Oh, shi--

X-Files Season 5 Episode 12 Bad Blood

[ Tapping pen rhythmically ]

Mulder-- Don't.

Don't even start with me.

I know what I saw.

Skinner wants a report in one hour.

What are you going to tell him?

I'm gonna tell him exactly what I saw.

What are you gonna tell him?

I'll tell him exactly what I saw.

Now, how is that different?

I'm the one who may wind up going to prison here.

I gotta know if you're gonna back me up.

First of all,

If the family of Ronnie Strickland does, indeed, decide to sue the F.B.I...

For-- I think the figure is $446 million--

Then you and I both will most certainly be codefendants.

And second of all-- I don't even have a second of all, Mulder.

Four hundred and forty-Six million dollars.

I'm in this as deep as you are, and I'm not even the one that overreacted.

I didn't do the-- With the thing. I did not overreact.

Ronnie Strickland was a vampire. Where's your proof?

You're my proof. You were there.

Now you're scaring me. I want to hear what you're gonna tell Skinner.

You want our stories straight. I didn't say that.

I just want to hear it the way you saw it.

I don't feel comfortable with that.

Prison, Scully. Your cell mate's nickname is gonna be "large Marge."

She's gonna read a lot of Gertrude Stein.

- All right. - All right, start at the beginning.

The very beginning?

Fine.

Yesterday morning...

When I arrived at work,

You were, uh... characteristically exuberant.

Hope you brought your cowboy boots! You want us to go to Dallas?

Yee-Haw! Actually a town called Cheney about 50 miles south of there.

Population: 361. By all accounts, very rustic and charming.

But as of late, ground zero, the locus...

For a series of mysterious nocturnal exsanguinations.

Exsanguinations. Of whom?

how does that grab ya?

- It's a-- - Dead cow! Exactly.

Or more specifically, a dead 900-Pound Holstein.

Its body completely drained of blood, as was this one,

This one, this one, this one, and so on--

Six, all in all-- Approximately one a week over the past six weeks.

- Any sign of-- - Two small puncture wounds on the neck?

- Not what I was gonna ask. - Too bad. We got 'em. Check it out.

These may be syringe marks, their placement meant to emulate fangs.

Such ritualistic bloodletting points towards cultists of some sort,

In which case-- What?

Yeah, that's probably it. Satanic cultists. Come on, Scully.

You're not gonna tell me this is that Mexican goat sucker.

El chupacabra? They got four fangs, not two.

- And they suck goats, hence the name. - So instead this would be?

- Classic vampirism. - Of a bunch of cows?

And one dead human. Last night a vacationer from new jersey.

Come on. We gotta go.

Why didn't you tell me that from the beginning?

Lock the door on your way out.

the town of Cheney is too small to maintain a morgue facility.

As such, we made our way to the peaceful slumbers funeral home...

In order to examine the body of one Mr. Dwight Funt,

Recently deceased.

[ Man talking quietly ]

it was there that we were met by a representative...

Of local law enforcement,

Sheriff-- Lucius Hartwell.

- You the F.B.I. Agents? - Yes. I'm--

Agents Mulder and, uh--

Scully. What do you say we take a look at your victim? Yeah, by all means.

After you.

Come on, Scully. Get those little legs movin'. Come on.

Boy.

Here we go.

Nice threads.

No exam has been done?

No, ma'am. He's just like we found him in the motel room.

Once I heard you folks were interested, I figured we'd best leave it up to the experts.

Your satanic cultists have some sharp little teeth.

What satanic cultists?

Go ahead, tell him your, uh, "theory."

Well, my theory has evolved.

Basically, I think we're looking for someone who has seen one too many Bela Lugosi movies.

He believes he is a vampire, therefore he--

They act like one. Yeah. Yeah.

That makes a whole lot of sense.

- I think she's right. - What about the fang marks?

Well, someone so obsessed might well file down their incisors.

I think that a moulage casting should help us make an identification.

Moulage casting. That's a good idea.

Now--

Now, isn't there some kind of disease that makes a person think that they're a vampire?

Well, there is a psychological fixation called hematodipsia,

Which causes the sufferer to gain erotic satisfaction...

From consuming human blood.

Erotic. Yeah.

There are also genetic afflictions...

Which cause a heightened sensitivity to light,

Uh, to garlic.

Porphyria.

Xeroderma pigmentosum.

You really know your stuff, Dana.

"Dana"?

He never even knew your first name.

- You gonna interrupt me, or what? - No, go ahead.

Dana.

Anyway,

That's when you had your big breakthrough-- Whatever.

Agent Scully, you really know your stuff.

Sheriff, you say this man is exactly as you found him?

Yes, sir, to the letter.

Have you noticed that this man's shoes are untied?

- Yeah, they sure are. - Mulder, what's your point?

This means something.

Do you have an old cemetery in town, off the beaten path, the creepier the better?

Uh, yeah.

- Take me there now. - Mulder.

We're gonna need a complete autopsy on this man, the sooner the better.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

What am I even looking for?

I don't know.

- He does that. - Come on, sheriff Hartwell.

Ma'am.

4:54 p.m.

Begin autopsy on white male, age 60,

Who is arguably having a worse time in Texas than I am,

Although not by much.

I'll begin with the "y" incision.

Yee-Haw.

Heart weighs 370 grams.

Tissue appears healthy.

Left lung weighs 345 grams. Tissue appears healthy.

Large intestine,

890 grams.

Yada, yada, yada.

Stomach contents show last meal close to the time of death...

Consisting of...

Pizza,

Topped with pepperoni,

Green peppers,

Mushrooms.

Mushrooms.

that sounds really good.

having completed the autopsy,

I checked into the Davey Crockett motor court.

the name of it was actually the Sam Houston Motor Lodge.

oh, my God.

[ Door hinges creak, door slams ]

Chloral hydrate.

What?

- What the hell happened to you? - Nothin'.

Chloral hydrate?

Yeah, that thing that you didn't know that you were looking for.

Chloral hydrate, more colorfully known as "knockout drops."

I found it in abundance when I sent the tox screen in on our murder victim.

- No, seriously, Mulder. What happened to you? - Nothing.

- Who slipped him the Mickey? - My "theory"?

Your vampire.

He found it necessary to dope poor Mr. Funt to the gills...

Before he was able to extract his blood.

Probably did it to the cows too.

What kind of vampire would do that?

Exactly.

We got another dead tourist. You gotta do another autopsy.

Tonight?

I just put money in the magic fingers.

I won't let it go to waste.

This one's my room, Mulder. Don't get mud everywhere.

Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Okay.

Excuse me, ma'am. Did you order a pizza?

Yeah. The guy in there will pay for it.

forgoing both dinner and sleep,

I was soon back at the funeral home...

Examining one Mr. Paul Lombardo...

From Naples, Florida.

Heart. Lung.

Large intestine.

As with the previous victim, it appears that the subject...

Was most likely incapacitated with chloral hydrate...

And then exsanguinated.

The drug was either injected or ingested,