Back for Round two. This is a sequel to my previous story, Ashes of Our Lives, so it'd probably make a lot more sense if you read that first. I'll try to make this fic as independent as I can.
This prologue is very short, but to the point. I hope this gets the idea across of what's to come. Those who have read the first part to this storyline know that there will be much drama ahead. (: Stay tuned, and I hope you enjoy.
What We Have Left – Prologue
The previous gentleness of the warm Virginia night was violently disturbed around three am.
Flames licked up against the side of the dainty, white cottage-house, crumpling the exterior and charring the woodwork. The once green lawn was awash in a blanket of fiery destruction.
He watched the house burn, his fingers wet with gasoline; he was far enough away to be safe from the flames, and the odorous dampness of his skin was but a reminder of what he had done.
Hard, slate-blue eyes glowed white from the wild burn of the fire. Impatiently, he paced, waiting and watching to see where his prey would flee. As expected, it didn't take them long to realize what was happening before he saw them making their way through the backyard.
Carefully, he stalked toward the back of the house.
Two figures, one male and one female, ran. They tore through the flaming house, making it into the fenced in backyard. With a sound like thunder cracking, a burning tree limb broke from the trunk, throwing itself into their path. The young man skidded to a stop, and his female companion crashed into his back.
"Reid," she hissed, fingers digging into his shoulder blade, "we have to keep moving."
The young profiler glanced back at her, his hazel eyes a bright, almost yellow-green in the flashing of orange flames. He was panting. "I know," he replied swiftly, his exhaustion not showing through beyond his heavy breaths, "but we're fenced in. We have nowhere to go."
"Wait," she coughed, lifting her free hand to point. His frantic eyes tracked her movements, and she jumped at the feel of heat pulsing against her back.
"That section of fence," she wheezed, "it's clear, come on!"
They lunged for it, but when the flames peeled back, a face appeared in the dark. The young woman screamed, but before either knew what was happening, the clear section of wooden fencing was ripped apart, and two hands pulled them through.
The two federal agents were thrown roughly to the cold grass, a stark contrast to the boiling heat they'd been engulfed in. They found themselves sprawled on their backs, side by side, and a heavy presence above them.
His face was almost black, only his pale blue eyes stood out against the painted background of yellow flames.
"Hello agents," he said coldly, "I trust you've missed me as much as I've missed you?"
"You won't take us again," she hissed, trying to twist out of his grip.
"JJ," Reid murmured, eyes darting from him, to her, then back again.
"I think coming with me is better than staying here," Alex Napuri replied, smiling faintly. It wasn't a nice look.
Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, sending cold shivers through both of his captives. "I see you're both still… unsettled, by dogs. But Tank's missed you… now, come with me quietly and it'll all be over soon…"
They couldn't let it happen again. JJ forced her weakening body to recoil and twist away, as Reid strained against very determined psychopath.
Reid shoved a hand upward, slamming the base of his palm under their attacker's nose. Napuri howled, throwing himself backward as the pair scrambled upright. He held his gushing face, forcing his eyes open to glare heated daggers.
"You'll pay for that," he snarled, even as the two agents were backing up.
"Split," Reid cried, and JJ took off running without a thought. Locking eyes with Napuri for a split second, Reid lowered his gaze to catch the spray of blood running over Alex's face. He tried to smile, and antagonize, before he turned and sprinted in the opposite direction of JJ.
With a wild cry of fury, Alexander Napuri launched himself after one of the young FBI agents.
Garcia redialed the unregistered phone number. She knew she wasn't supposed to call often, unless the matter was important; but she was a woman who considered her family important… and she hadn't seen them in so long.
Just like the first four times she'd tried, neither Reid nor JJ answered the disposable cell phone they'd been issued. She couldn't help the nagging edge of worry that began to coil around her, and nestle itself in her lair.
Again, the phone went to voicemail, and her stomach twisted when the voicemail picked up, as it had every time before.
"Hi, you've reached Spencer and Jennifer Forbes. Sorry we can't answer right now, please leave your name and number and we'll be happy to call you back when we're available. Thanks!"
It was Reid's voice; though it was deeper than usual. She remembered when Hotch had recorded the message before they'd left; it had been so late, Reid's voice had been husky from exhaustion. Hotch had said it was good because Napuri might not recognize it.
But the message was what hurt. It was so fake. Nobody had the number except the BAU team members, and a few other US officials in charge of JJ and Reid, but the voicemail was there just in case… and she hated it. Garcia tossed her headset onto the desk without looking at it, wiping at her eyes. Reid and JJ had been in such a state of sheer exhaustion by the time Hotch had finally deemed they'd had enough. The stalking had only gotten worse and worse until the young agents' nerves were absolutely shot. JJ continually had dark circles under her eyes, and Garcia had already pointed out at least two gray hairs to the liaison. Reid had rarely come into the BAU in the past few weeks; and when he did he was too tired to do much but simply be there for quiet company. Garcia missed his talkative nature.
She heard her door open, and she spun in her chair with a furrowed brow.
"Derek," she called when she saw the profiler, "Reid and JJ aren't answering."
He sighed, dragging a tired hand over his face without so much as a greeting. Garcia sat up then, heart thudding anxiously.
"Derek?" She asked quietly, standing up and taking the few steps to close the distance between them. She reached out to touch his chin. "What is it?"
No nicknames, no banter. Just pure, unhindered concern.
"Garcia," he replied, and she could hear the tired strain in his voice. "He's got them. He has them again."
Her world came crashing down.
I do not like this, I was so stuck! Then again I hated the prologue for Ashes too… bear with me people, this is my second prologue ever.
The first chapter of this will resume exactly where Ashes left off. Even though this prologue was crap, I hope some of you guys out there give it a chance. (: Thanks!
Sharky