This is for the OC competition on the Criminal Minds Weekly Prompts forum. The competiton was about creating a well rounded character and not perfect or cliche characters.

"We chose a list of flaws based on the character description you gave us. For an example, if you had a child character, we chose flaws that children could often use. (An example is that children are often quite Absent Minded) ...Your character by the end of this should have three flaws, (two from the list and one of your own) make sure to post what those are when you post your stories."

I chose the flaw procrastinator and was chose Sarcastic and Defensive from the flaws I was assigned.

I was sitting at my desk working on an assignment for school that was due in only a few hours. I should have started it a few days ago, but a new movie had come out that I wanted to see and I let it slip my mind. I heard the door open behind me and rolled my eyes.

"Please come in. The closed door and do not disturb sign were there because I got bored." I said whipping around to come face to face with a man in a mask. Before I could scream he shoved a cloth over my face and I felt myself losing consciousness.

When I woke up I felt the cold seeping in to my bones and couldn't help but think my bed felt awfully hard. Then I remembered the events from the night before and sat bolt upright. I was in a large dog cage, or so it appeared. I was also handcuffed to the sides and my feet were also chained. Then the man appeared, this time he wasn't wearing a mask, but other than his head I couldn't see an inch of his skin. His hair was closely shaved, but I could tell it would be dark and curly if he grew it out, and his eyes were a grey color.

"You might not need to hide all your skin in those clothes if you turned on the heater," I said with an eye roll.

"I don't think you're in any position to make suggestions to me," He said.

I lifted an eyebrow trying to keep up a brave face, "Why not?"

"Because I'm going to kill you," He said simply.

I gulped, "Aw, your struggles to hide your love for me are doing wonders for my ego."

He twisted the lock on the door and turned the key in the padlock before opening the cage I was in. He came in and moved the cuffs around so my hands and feet were cuffed together, but not to the cage. Then he yanked me out roughly. I bit my lip to keep from screaming. He put me against the wall and took out an empty revolver. He grabbed one bullet and twisted the gun before pointing it at me. I stared into his eyes as he pulled the trigger. There was a click before he popped the gun open and twisted it again. He aimed it at himself and pulled the trigger. There was another click and I felt my whole body tense. He repeated this three times before pulling put a pocket knife and walking towards me. At the top of my arm near my shoulder he pulled the blade down quickly in a tally mark. Then he took my right foot and carved a perfect diamond into it. He shoved me back in the cage and redid the chains before leaving. He came back with a water bottle like you would use in a hamster cage, but much larger that he hung in a place I could reach it. He also left crackers near my hand so I could eat them.

I ate the food and drank a very small amount of water before sitting down on the cold concrete again. She looked down at her foot where the cut was now filthy and still bleeding. The man came back in and put a tray of a clear liquid on the floor.

"Clean your foot," he said. I placed her foot on the dish to feel a horrible burn, and realized it was probably alcohol. After a few seconds he took it away and left. I heard the definitive click of a lock.

For the next four days he would come in and play his Russian roulette game and add another tally to my arm. He would also deepen the cut on her foot a little more. I could hardly put any weight on that leg, and was often feeling dizzy now from the lack of food and water.

Too soon I heard the lock clicking and sat upright. I saw the man pulling another woman into the room and he opened my cage just long enough to throw her in. He set up her chains from outside and I moved to make space for my cage's newest resident.

The woman was considerably younger than I was, I'd guess around eighteen or nineteen. She was unconscious and unharmed, and I wished I could keep her that way, but I knew better there was nothing I could do for her. When she woke up a few hours later her eyes were wide.

"You're the woman from the newspaper," She said. "Zelle Mathews." I nodded. "That's not good. He's a psycho."

"I've noticed." I said.

She frowned, "He's already killed two women. They were dumped the same day he took you. One had like ten tally marks on her arm and a diamond and a heart carved into her. The other had five marks and just the diamond. The one woman was shot, and the other had bled out, the tenth tally hit a vein."

"Thank you, that makes me feel so much better," I said.

She blushed, "Sorry. I babble when I'm nervous."

"It's fine. So the cops are looking for us?"

She nodded, "And the FBI. They have a team here from the BAU."

"They'll find us," I said trying to sound confident. Then he came in. He pulled me out first and did the usual, except today he took my right hand and carved a heart into it. He put me back in the cage and took out the girl. He did the same to her, except she cried out and he laughed hysterically before putting her back. He gave us two water bottles and each the same crackers. The girl's stomach growled and I slid my plate towards her.

"No, you should eat," She said.

I shook my head, "I'm honestly sick of crackers. You can have them." She went to argue, but when her stomach growled again she began to eat them. "So I didn't ask earlier, what's your name."

"Annie Smith," She said. "I'm a freshman in college. I was waiting for my roommate to come home, and the door opened and I didn't turn around right away and then he, he took me."

"Don't worry. We're going to be absolutely fine."

Four days passed and with each day I noticed the cut on my foot looking worse, and I realized it was infected. However after the tenth day a new person was brought in, a man.

With three people in it the cage was highly uncomfortable, but it wasn't like we could complain. The new man had a gash on his forehead and I tried my best to clean it with the water we had left and the pieces of fabric we'd torn off our clothes to try and keep the cuts on our arms clean. When he woke up he groaned.

"What's your name?" I said softly.

"Dr. Spencer Reid," He said. Annie gasped.

I looked at her, "He's from the FBI."

He made an effort to sit up and we both helped him up, "This isn't good. We don't have a single lead."

"Is that supposed to be comforting?"

"No, it's just a fact. Comforting would be that my team is one of the best and they'll do whatever it takes to find us."

"It was a rhetorical question."

"It didn't sound like one. You should probably work on your tone of voice when you ask 'rhetorical' questions. It actually did sound like you were asking-"

"I got it." I said rolling my eyes. He turned a bit red and looked away.

The man came in, "I see the agent is awake."

"You're an idiot," I said trying to draw his attention away from the other two.

He raised an eyebrow, "How?"

"I'd explain it to you, but I'm fresh out of crayons." I said.

"Do you have any type of filter?"

"Of course I do! It's in a little silver box at the back of my closet screaming, "Let me out, let me out! You're going to get in trouble!" but I'm not home so I can't go grab it. Maybe you should let me go, and I'll reinstall it." I said.

He ignored me and took me to the wall. Three bullets for my third set of days. I had a one in two chance of getting shot now, and honestly wasn't looking forward to it. My luck was in that he wasn't a very good shot. We did this all five days. He brought in another woman who was shoved in our cage. He pulled me out first on my sixteenth day. I'd been unbelievably lucky so far, but I had lost all hope.

On the last chance the bullet went out, but it missed me. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding and he drew another tally and drew the club onto my foot, a perfect deck of cards. He went through the charade with Annie and went to grab the agent. The agent drew up his legs and kicked him. He grabbed the keys and let us all out. The man stood up and looked furious.

"Run," He yelled and threw us the keys. Without a thought we all took off running and didn't stop until the adrenaline left my system and I crashed to the ground. A man who had been gardening at the house we stopped in front of called 911 and an ambulance arrived quickly. They took us to the hospital and checked us out.

I had a minor infection in my right foot and they immediately started me on antibiotics. They stitched up the cut on my left foot, and cleaned the others. I was given an IV to help replenish the water I was low on, as well as a blood transfusion. I'd have the physical scars forever, and they couldn't do anything about it.

A dark haired woman and massive muscular man came into the room. "Hi, I'm Agent Prentiss and this is Agent Morgan." I nodded and the questioning began. "Do you remember anything else about how far you may have run or anything at all?"

"No! I already told you that. I know your agent is trapped with that maniac, and I want to help you. I can't!" I yelled snapping. I felt like I was being accused of something and maybe I should have been. We abandoned that man, even after he saved our lives. "Besides shouldn't there be a blood trail to the house?"

Agent Prentiss sighed, "We got a warrant, the house the trail started at was owned by a small old woman and there was nothing suspicious at all. I know this has been a long few weeks for you, but please. Anything you remember is helpful, even the smallest thing."

"I can't remember, I know that I should be able to help you more and I know that we all abandoned that man, but it's not our fault. He told us to run, and we were all so scared. Can you please leave?" I said frustrated. The constant asking the same questions wasn't helping, and I was sick of the cycle we were in. She nodded and dragged the other man out with her.

I fell asleep and woke up screaming from a nightmare. I saw the man, Spencer Reid, and he was dead. T would haunt me until they found him. A different agent came into the room. She was blond and her expression was twisted. "This isn't our fault, why can't you just leave us alone?"

"I know," She said. "We just need your help. I'm Agent Jareau, I have some pictures here and was wondering if you could look at them and see if the man who attacked you is in them." I nodded and took the sheet with all the photos. I saw him right away and pointed.

"Him," I said.

"Are you sure?" She asked gently.

I nodded, "I'm damn sure."

She came back later, "All three of you agreed that was the man. We're going to his house now. Thank you." I nodded.

Hours later a new agent came in, "I'm Agent Hotchner. I wanted to tell you that you attacker has been caught and is now in prison. He confessed when we caught him."

"The agent, Spencer Reid, is he alright?" I asked.

"He has a few broken ribs, a lot of blood-" He started and stopped. "He will be."

I nodded, "Thank you."

A few weeks later I was sitting in my car driving to the FBI building at Quantico. I hadn't been able to do much for these people, but I had made each one a batch of my cookies. When I arrived I saw Agent Reid in the front. I called his name and he came over. I handed him the bag with all the cookies. "I made a batch for everyone. To thank you for saving my life."

"Thank you," He said surprise evident in his voice, "But we don't-"

"Please," I said, "Take them. Thank you."

"Thank you," He said. "Would you like to come in?"

"No," I shook my head. "But it was nice to see you again, and you look alright. Agent Hotchner told me you were, but it's nice to actually see it. I've got to go, but thank you."

As I was leaving I heard him behind me, "Your welcome." I smiled and walked out to my car hoping to put this whole thing behind me.