A/n hey guys. I'm not sure if I have the right category for this. It was intended to be funny, kind of over the top like a parody, but it turned kind of dark and angsty. Blame the muse, I think she's nuts or on drugs. This is set after "Birthright" I don't believe there are any spoilers in this chapter

Disclaimer: I don't claim to own anything from CM. No Copyright infringement is intended with this posting.

The experiment

October 1981

The night sky was full of jagged yellow lightning. Thunder echoed across the valley like God was playing a game of ten pin with the angels. The stroboscopic flashes of light lit the tall pine trees around the old castle. It wasn't raining yet, but he could smell the ozone on the air. The rustle of the trees reminded him of the ocean near where he grew up. The man looked furtively over his shoulder as he approached the large wooden door. The oak door had a big brass knocker in the shape of a bat.

Geez… what is this place, the bat cave?

He grabbed the knocker and the cold metal sent a shiver down his arm. The bang of metal on metal was nearly loud enough to drown out the thunder echoing through the night. He took one last look at the building in front of him. Why the hell was there a medieval castle in the Rocky Mountains of northern Utah? The door creaked open on screaming hinges. It reminded him of one of those old radio programs like the Shadow, or Suspense.

A very tall and very thin man answered the door. "Ah… Mr. Smith… he's waiting for you in the lab. He said in plumy English tones. The butler, in full tuxedo stepped back to allow him into the entryway.

The walls were stone about three feet thick. The marble was grey shot through with black and white streaks. The floors were made of the same stone, and there was a mahogany table to his right about ten feet away with a vase full of black roses. The castle was dark but from what he could see it was immaculately kept.

The butler, who was named James, directed him through the entryway to the library. It was a huge room full of books. It had high ceilings that disappeared into blackness. He shook his head at the waste of paper, and shifted the small package in his hands. The man led him to one wall and pulled a book forward. It was an old leather bound copy of Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. A door in the wall swung open, and the butler left him there to navigate the steps.

"Thank you James," he dismissed the butler.

The butler nodded stiffly and walked away to the library. Mr. Smith stepped onto the slick stone steps. There were cobwebs strung over the walls and the ceiling. It was also very damp and had that smell that old cellars get, musty, and dusty with the smell of mold. He sneezed. This was going to set off his allergies! His footsteps echoed off the steps as he made his way down the stairs, which were descending in a tight circle. The light was faint and wavering like torch light. He rolled his eyes. Dr. Black certainly had a flair for the dramatic. The light got brighter, and brighter, till he stepped off the last step and entered the lab.

A small, black haired man with a face shaped like a ferret was sitting on a stool writing eagerly in a notebook. He was chuckling and talking to himself in a high reedy voice that set Mr. Smith's nerves on edge. He sneezed again, and the little man looked up with dark eyes that weren't quite sane.

"Mr. Smith! I thought you went back on our agreement." He clucked his disapproval.

"Now why would you think that," Mr. Smith said, shifting the package again.

"It's been three months since you left and -"

"It was very difficult to get my hands on this." Mr. Smith interrupted the man's tirade.

"I realize that, but I expect progress reports!" Dr. Black shouted, his face going crimson with rage.

Mr. Smith placed the package on the edge of the table, and on top of a bunch of yellow and extremely old documents scattered over the surface. Dr. Black eyed it with lust and Mr. Smith pulled it just out of the other man's reach.

"Not so fast… I want my money!"

"Fine… here's your filthy lucre." Dr. Black pulled an envelope from under his notebook and tossed it to the other man with a sneer.

"I trust this makes us even." Mr. Smith said

"Yes… it does, now get out of here. I have an experiment to complete." He went back to his work, ignoring the other man, who disappeared up the spiral steps.

Dr. Black attacked the package, ripping off the plain brown paper and removing the contents to inspect them. Yes… it looked like they were all there. It was a good thing, James was skilled in taking care of his enemies, and there were many places in these mountains to hide the bodies.

He opened the first packet of chemicals and added it to his test tube. The contents began to bubble, hiss and turn purple. He added the rest of the ingredients one by one, adjusting the temperature and shaking the tube occasionally. It went red, then green, then blue and finally gold. He turned off the heat and took the serum to the large enclosed incubator that was filled with a pulsing pinkish liquid. There was a small object that looked like a human fetus slowly revolving in the artificial womb. He added the liquid and the fetus began to change. Its growth began to rapidly increase, and Dr. Black laughed and clapped his hands.

An hour later the fetus was full term and ready to leave its warm, liquid, environment. He pulled on gloves and carefully lifted the baby from the now purple liquid. It was a male. Perfect. It would be the perfect human, smart, good looking and charming. It would grow up and follow only his instructions.

He made sure the airway was clear before slapping it briskly on the backside. The baby began to wail and he yelled for his assistant and baby nurse. "Ms Galore, I need your help please."

A woman entered the lab and took the child after the doctor had removed the artificial umbilical cord. She was blond, with a figure and face of Marilyn Monroe. She was only marginally smarter than the famous actress, but she had a way with kids and she was completely loyal.

"It's alive!" He shouted. He jotted down the vital statistics of the baby and took him from Ms. Galore after she wrapped him in a blanket.

"He's alive, number seventeen is a success." He shouted in glee. The baby had been sleeping and now he awoke and screamed.

"Take him in back Ms Galore. Feed him please." He ignored the cooing coming from his assistant, and the comments she made over the baby's appearance. Who cared what the little guy looked like at this stage?

"Here…" he handed her a beaker. "Put this in his bottle. It will stop the rapid growth spurt."

She took it from him and left the lab with the baby crying in her arms. Dr. Black went back to his personal log and recorded the success of the project. Soon he would rule the world.

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Ms. Galore took the baby into a room next to the depressing lab. She had decorated the room herself, with the help of Mrs. Stanley, the housekeeper. There was a cradle at one end of the room with plain white sheets and a light blue blanket. The nurse took the baby to the opposite corner of the room and gave him a quick bath while he wailed.

"Don't cry little guy, Dr. Black and I will take good care of you." She cooed at the baby. He was so cute with lots of brown hair and matching brown eyes. His little fingers were the longest she'd ever seen, and they moved with a grace that was mesmerizing.

She dried him off with a fuzzy yellow towel, and popped him into a diaper and plain white pajamas. His face wasn't quite so red anymore, and he'd stopped crying when she wrapped him up in a yellow receiving blanket. He was looking up at her with his dark eyes and the smile faltered on her face. He looked as though he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Hey little guy it's time for your bottle."

She could swear that the baby smiled at her and a shiver ran up her back. Still it wasn't her job to question Dr. Black or what he may have created in this child. She'd been disobedient before and…

"Get number seventeen fed and put down for the night Ms Galore. You and I have work to do." Dr. Black's impatient voice rang through the room.

"Yes sir, right away," she answered automatically. She finished with the baby and put him in his cradle with a mobile of the solar system hanging over it.

"I promise I won't let him hurt you." She whispered and then kissed him on the forehead.

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October 2007

The tall thin, dark haired man ran through the streets of Washington DC. His jacket flapped out behind him like the wings of a large bird. He was breathing hard, but he didn't stop. He should have known that this would come back to haunt him. The streets were surprisingly empty for this time of night. It made finding help a real chore and it made it easier for his pursuer to see him. He crossed the street without stopping to look and was almost run down by a very large truck. The horn blatted after him and he heard an angry male voice calling after him.

"Hey stupid… watch where you're going!"

He didn't look back. He didn't have the energy to stop and wonder if they were still chasing him. His side was beginning to ache, the stitch getting worse with every step he took. He breath plumed in front of him in the cold air and -

There was a popping noise and something hit his left side. He was almost knocked into the building next to him. He looked around, screaming at the pain twisting in his left side. His pursuer had caught up to him. There was another popping sound and something hit his chest. He fell to his feet with a thud. He had to get up. He had to get to his goal and help the one he failed years ago.

When he turned painfully over to his back, he saw the flags flying over the building. He had to get up and get inside. He'd found the place he had to be. He made it to his knees and then to his feet. Footsteps came closer and another popping noise, but his chaser missed. The bullet ricocheted off the building and just as he gained the door, it opened and two men appeared with guns drawn.

He didn't hear anything else, he was too relived that he'd actually made it to his destination. His head was getting very light, and dizzy, and the pain seemed to have gone from the two wounds in his upper body.

His eyes were beginning to close when a third man grabbed him. "Who are you?" The voice demanded identifying himself as a federal agent.

"I… I'm… You have to tell him… My name is…"

He was falling to the ground, but strong arms would not let him hit the pavement. "Who are you?" The voice said again. "What's your business here?"

His head was so light; he couldn't see anything or feel anything anymore. There was something he had to do. What was it?"

"Reid…. My name is William. You have to tell Spencer Reid… Be careful… Tell Spencer… I'm sorry… I only wanted to protect him. Tell him… number 777...

William Reid's eyes closed and red blood poured onto the sidewalk in front of the J Edgar Hoover building on Pennsylvania Avenue.