|"One night they sent her Mulder.
It wasn't Mulder, that much was obvious as soon as she looked
at him. The posture was all wrong. The hair was too neat. He
didn't smell like anything. And, most of all, there were the
eyes. Mulder's eyes had been a thousand colors; they'd been
credulous and lustful and teasing and horrified, shocked and
outraged and suffering. But they'd never been shallow. She could
see her reflection in the thing's eyes, and it terrified