"This ends now. Confess your sins." Reid's only answer was a whimper so Hankle punched him. "Confess!"

"I haven't done anything!" Reid cried out only as Hankle hit him so hard the chair rocked dangerously close to overbalancing. "Tobias, help me!" He begged.

"He can't help you, he's weak. Confess!" Hankle demanded.

"Tobias..." Reid pleaded desperately, stopping abruptly as Hankle's fist struck his face. "Confess your sins."

"No." Reid sobs.

This time Hankle does tip over the chair causing Reid to crash to the floor. Within second he lost control over his body as it begins uncontrollably convulsing.

"That's the Devil vacating your body", is the last thing he heard.

Reid's eyes shot open as he awoke gasping for air. His whole body hurt as if the torture was two minutes ago, rather than two months. Psychosomatic pain the therapist had said,

"Considering what you have been through, it is hardly surprising that you are experiencing some after affects. It really is..."

"It's not psychosomatic!" Reid insisted, "When the chair tipped back, I banged my head and had a seizure. I could have damaged my brain. Brain stem, Thalamus, and Cerebral Cortex. All three of these have been associated with pain and..."

"And all three were completely normal during the brain scan", she gently interjected.

That was the last time he saw her. It wasn't helping him he had decided. He knew just as much if not more about traumatic experiences and how to deal with them. There was no point in him sitting in the "calming" pastel coloured room a second longer. He wasn't even sure she had graduated from anywhere never mind the prestigious college the certificate above her desk had claimed. He was in intense pain and she suggested writing down his feelings! If the professionals wouldn't help him, he'd help himself.

He rubbed his sleep heavy eyes and leaned over for the needle.

The days passed in a flurry of serial killers and pain. The misery of the world only receding when he gave in to the call of the needle. Logically he knew this wasn't the right way to cope. In fact, he knew of five common and seventeen possible nasty side effects to the drugs. Not to mention the 49,814 people that died from drug use yearly in the US alone. But it was the help he needed to continue functioning. The team didn't need broken traumatised Reid, they needed the genius and without the drugs his brain felt like it had been run through a blender.

"Post mortem suggests the unsub raped the victims before killing them". It was Monday morning and the week had begun with an unsub who after killing people drilled a hole in their head and filled it with acid.

"You know, he reminds me of the 1991 killer Dahmer. He had the same MO." Reid commented.

"So, we might have a copycat?" Hotchner suggested. "But what is the purpose of the drilling?"

"Dahmer said he wasn't satisfied by the actual killing. He said, I tried to create living zombies with uric acid in the drill [to the head], but it never worked. No, the killing was not the objective. I just wanted to have the person under my complete control, not having to consider their wishes, being able to keep them there as long as I wanted." Reid quoted perfectly. The team stared at him aghast. "So, we are possibly looking for someone trying to create an army of zombies. Sounds like a typical Monday." Morgan laughed trying to lighten the mood. "Unless you need my talent for anything else, I am going to go back to the sanctuary of my computers and cute new born kittens." Garcia announced. Hotchner nodded. "That's fine Garcia but send us the next of kin details we need to interview the families. Looks like we are headed to Atlanta Wheels up in thirty." "Reid, you okay?" Morgan caught him on the way out. "You look tired. Are you still having nightmares?" Every time I close my eyes Reid mentally replied, "Now and again", he said aloud. "PTSD is normal and to be expected you know, if you need to talk..." "I'm actually feeling quite well. Did you know nightmares are thought by some to be beneficial? Evolutionary theory states that for anything to still exist in our modern minds and bodies, they must be a purpose to it. Something that helps the human species to survive. Some scientists suggest that nightmares are our minds way of dealing with emotional turmoil while we sleep leaving our waking minds to concentrate on other things." "If you're sure". Morgan replied unconvinced.

Choking on the foaming saliva gathered in his throat Reid struggled to breath. "Tobias!" He spluttered. "Please. I'm going to die!"

"The devil is vacating your body".

"NO!" Reid shot up in his bed. Sweat pouring from his face. He wiped it away with his trembling hand.

It was thirty-nine hours later. The case had been wrapped up relatively quickly. Following on from the copycat theory, Hotchner had asked Garcia to check all mail Dahmer had received prior to his murder in 1995.

"This is like looking for a needle in a stack of needles never mind a haystack! Death threats aside, all his mail was from creepy creepy worshippers!"

"Look for males only. Probably would have used a pseudonym. This man is contacting his hero but his lack of confidence will stop him identifying himself."

"That narrows it down. Needle in a haystack".

Soon after she had come across "Deadman" who she later managed to identify as Charles Pitman. From there it had simply been a matter of apprehending him.

He had been with his latest victim when they arrived and brandished him as a meat shield.

"Charles let him go." Reid called out, "You don't need to hurt him." He tried to think of the right words but his thoughts were blocked by a searing pain. "Charles…" The intensity grew in his head. The pain stopping him mid-sentence, a cry of pain escaping his lips. Gideon used this moment of confusion to diffuse the hostage situation and Hotchner arrested Pitman.

"Reid, what happened man?" Morgan asked concerned.

"Nothing. A headache that's all". He muttered.

"You need rest."

He needed the needle. He gladly accepted Hotchner's offer to leave immediately and headed home. After injecting, the pain subsided and he'd fallen into an uneasy sleep and the familiar nightmare.

Now awake, he stood up to get a glass of water. It was three minutes past four in the morning so after the drink he led back down in an attempt to get a few more hours sleep. That's when he heard the voice, "Devil vacating your body". He jumped to his feet,

"Who's there?" His voice shook.

No answer.

He quickly scouted his apartment but it was empty and silent. He had just dozed off without realising he reasoned with himself but an uneasy feeling had settled into his mind.