Okay, a story about an un-sub that the team did not catch, but still met his end. I do not own Criminal Minds, and all that. This is not beta´ed so all mistakes are my own, and be free to point them out.

Enjoy.

The darkness of humanity

I was floating in the soft darkness. I knew that I was dying, but for some reason I couldn´t find it in me to care too much. How did it come to this? How did things get this much out of hand? It wasn't supposed to end like this, me dying, bleeding out in the middle of nowhere, with no-one around and no-one left to care about me. I know that I have done bad things in my life, Hell, all my life has just been one bad decision after another, all leading up to the moment when the one person I used to trust the most, my best friend, shot me in cold blood.

How did all this start, you may wonder. How did a normal teenager from a good home and a good neighbourhood turn into a serial killer that ruthlessly killed 32 people over a 20 year period? Well, I´ll tell you how.

It all started when I was 16 years old. My best friend Peter and I decided to go to New York to see "The Future Show", which is basically just an author's interpretation of how the future would look. Peter and I left our home for the weekend to go to New York where we would stay with Peter´s uncle, Martin. All went well, right until we were walking back to Martins place after the show. A group of religious fanatics, violent and angry about what they had seen at the show, attacked us and almost killed Peter. In order to protect Peter I picked up a crowbar and hit one of them over the head, killing him. It was the most amazing feeling I have ever experienced, the rush of holding life and death in your hands, seeing the blood, smelling the cobber in the air, the rush of adrenalin. Trust me, there is no better high. Safe to say, that my thirst for blood had just been awakened. The police quickly arrived at the scene, and after an investigation I was cleared. After all, I had acted in self-defence and defence of others. The rest of the religious group was arrested and charged with assault and attempted murder. They are still in prison as far as I know. Apparently they have some anger issues, and do not play nice with the other inmates. Anyway, Peter and I finished high-school and choose different paths, but stayed best friends. Peter became a police officer, and I became a prosecutor. This gave me access to all the criminal records, and a great big ocean of people no-one would miss if they disappeared. So for the next 20 years, I systematically killed 32 people whom the world would be better off without. I even fell in love, and that was when I started making mistakes. I fell in love with the beautiful Maria, a sweet woman whose husband I had disposed of a few years earlier. We were happy for a long time, even talked about having kids. But, like all stories, ours eventually came to an end. My end came around when Peter, my best friend and best man at my wedding, walked into my house at the wrong time. I was in the middle of cutting up my latest victim, well if you can call a murdering paedophile with a taste for six year old girls a victim, and did not take kindly to my attempt at reasoning with him. I don't remember much about the drive out here, since I spent most of it unconscious, but I do remember him forcing me out the car trunk at gunpoint. He hadn't said anything, but the betrayal and pain on his face and in his eyes said more than enough. So did the tears that fell from his eyes when he fired a bullet into my chest. It said all I needed to know; he did understand why I had done what I had, but he also couldn't forgive me for having done it. I distantly heard him drive away, but it was hard to focus on anything other than the warm darkness that was consuming me. And now, as the life leaves me and the darkness is taking over, I find myself with only one regret; that my wife will once again be left behind trying to mend yet another broken heart. As I feel my heart slowing to a stop, my last thought is directed to my wife, the love of my life. My sweet Maria, forgive me...