Chapter 1
Nightmare
The sun was still setting over the trees when he walked toward their house. Calm chirps sounded around him as he stepped onto the cracked sidewalk. He thought he would be was nervous, like any man should be, as he drew closer to the picture perfect house; yet he felt calm and ready. As he eased himself behind the closest bush to the house, he reminded himself of the plan once again. It seemed fool proof; he'd gone over it hundreds of times. He had watched the family for two weeks prior and knew everything about them. Where they ate, what time they got home, the kids bed times, and even the favorite music of the oldest. It felt too easy.
When the final light went out in the parents room, Susan and Ryan Walters, he slipped toward the house. Using the key to their property he had copied three days ago, he gained access to the garage. He had been nervous they wouldn't leave the door unlocked before that night, but they did. He knew they would, everyone forgets sometimes; everyone makes mistakes. He silently walked up the carpeted stairs, past Lucy's room first, painted to match her birthstone, then past Aidan and Jasper's, stopping at the master bedroom's door. He heard their soft breaths and pictured their chests rising and falling in a steady rhythm; their hands enter twined. His steady hands rose, gently twisted the gold door knob and pushed.
He knew enough about the Walters to understand they didn't have any weapons in the bedrooms and that their freshly painted windows were always locked. He knew the kids didn't usually get up to go to the bathroom or get a drink of water or even run to their parents rooms because of nightmares. He knew he had as much time as he needed if they didn't hear him first. That was the only obstacle. He stalked toward the large bed and felt the familiar loathing rise in his throat. These people and their fancy houses and cookie-cutter families. He hated them and what they stood for; that is why they had to die. He took out his knife and walked toward the husband. He leaned down and whispered, "Your time has come."
Ryan Walters jerked upright, but before he could scream, the killer stabbed him in the chest. His eyes went wide, but the killer knew he couldn't move now. He smiled and walked to the wife's side, then jostled her awake. She screamed. He expected her to.
"Who are-," but he stabbed her before she finished her sentence. She wouldn't have had a chance to say a word if he hadn't wanted her to; but this was part of the plan. He heard footsteps and Lucy appeared in the room.
"Mom? Mom!"
"Lucy... Your mother is busy right now. How about I help you."
Lucy ran from the room to Jasper and Aidan's door. She pounded on it. They opened the door and Lucy scrambled desperately inside.
"Call the police!" she yelled to them. He smiled. The phone line was disconnected. He walked to the mother and sneered,
"Tell your children to come here, and I promise they will die quickly." She shook her head. He just shrugged, leaned over and stabbed her husband in the leg. He screamed. She shook her head again.
"You're killing your children. But, maybe they want to die."
"You sick, twisted -" the killer stabbed her till the life left her eyes. He saw the husband crying and had planned to kill him next, but decided the kids needed to see their father weak and broken. He ran to the boy's door and kicked it open. They screamed.
"Please! Please don't hurt us!"
They were huddled together in the far corner of the room, cheeks streaked with salt water. The walls were decorated with school projects and A plus papers. Family pictures and promises to be best friends forever with the families across the street.
"Never," he whispered soothingly. "I want to show you something."
Lucy leaned over after a moment and said, "Listen to him." Jasper stood up first, pulling Aidan. They followed him to the bedroom and shrieked when they saw their mother dead and their father crying with despair.
"Dad? Mom?" Aidan cried.
"Oh my God," Lucy mouthed.
They started to back away from him, but he pulled them in the room and produced a gun. The first to show fear was Jasper. The killer pulled the trigger and immediately felt release when he saw the fear on their faces and Jasper fall to the floor. He fired two more quick shots and watched with pleasure as the children crumpled to the floor. He smiled and stepped over them to the father. He took out a rope and tied the father to the bed and then stepped back toward the kids. He dipped his fingers in the blood that pooled on the ground and wrote delicately on the wall:
Nightmare
Gingerly, he glanced back at the father and before turning out the light said menacingly,
"You were warned."
...
The annoying noise of the crime scene cameras filled the air. Forensics swarmed the dead family now, only one day after the murder. We arrived at the house three hours after Hotch had told us about the killing. Before I knew it we had landed in Avalon, California.
"Was there a father?" I asked, already disgusted by what I saw: the mother had been stabbed and was laid sprawled on the bed; eyes open. The three kids were huddled on the carpet, holding hands. As if they had been with each other till the very end.
"At the hospital," said a man in a dark suit.
"Wait, he survived?" Prentiss asked.
"Yup. Stab wounds to the arms, legs... basically everywhere but the heart. Doesn't look good though," he said. "I'm Agent Greene from the FBI." He reached out to shake my hand. I took it and tried to smile.
"We found no fingerprints or DNA at the crime scene," a woman from forensics told us.
"He's organized; clean. The killer knew what he was doing," Rossi stated.
"Yeah, but I think this came from rage. Look: the parents were stabbed, but the kids were shot. Quick strikes to the heads. It was over fast. He didn't want to hurt them. They just got in the way."
"But the kills were calm and collected. He took his time, it wasn't over in a rush. How could he do that if it came from rage?" Prentiss asked, quizzical.
"Short bursts of fury. Coming at random times," Reid concluded. I agreed. This was angry and perfectly done.
...
The trees made long shadows on the Walter's drive way we made our way to the cars.
"Reid," Hotch said, "Start on victimology. Prentiss and Morgan go talk to the family-"
"Agent Hotchner! I just got off the phone with the hospital; the father survived."
My jaw dropped. Everyone stood silently and bewildered; except Hotch.
"Morgan and Prentiss, go see the father. I'll go talk to the family with Rossi. We meet back in two hours to go over the profile."
"Let's go." I called to Prentiss. She smiled and followed me to the black SUV. As we pulled out I thought of Garcia for the first time that day. Emily stared at me for the majority of the silent ride.
"You OK?"
I chuckled. "Sure." My phone rang. "Hey Baby Girl."
"Excuse me?"
"Oh. Str-"
"Don't say my name. Can I tell you something in confidence?"
"Of course."
"You were listed as Agent Penelope Garcia's emergency contact."
"Yes? What happened?" Prentiss was looking at me questioningly. "Is she hurt?"
"Well... She... She's missing."
...
I was vibrating. I was physically shaking in my seat. I heard Prentiss asking me something, but I couldn't answer.
"Morgan! Morgan what's wrong?" Strauss had told me to not tell anyone. To lie and say I was leaving because of a family emergency. "I'm fine," I told her.
"No, your shaking." Strauss had also said they'd found a substantial amount of blood at her apartment. "I'm fine. Really. Just... My cousin's had an accident."
"I didn't know you had a cousin." I didn't. I felt horrible lying.
"I have to go home." She nodded.
"I'll stay here and you take the car. Go home. I'll call Hotch."
"Thank you." I watched Emily as I pulled out of the hospital, fear cursing through me. I drove for the longest time telling myself to say it. Say it out loud, that it would make me feel better. I drove for ten minutes before I opened my dry lips and choked out, "Garcia's been kidnapped."
...
When I got back to Quantico, I immediately drove to Garcia's house. Maybe Strauss was wrong. She could just be lying to get me to come back and help her plot some way to get Hotch fired; it wasn't like she' never done that before. When I got there, I instinctively glanced at the faint blood smear on her front steps. Every time I came over, I could still feel the fear that lingered in the corners of her house. I jostled the door knob, but when it didn't budge I braced myself, then kicked open the door. Her apartment was filled with color and life; the dream of every teenager in the world. "Garcia! Garcia, are you here?" Please. I thought. Please still be alive. "GARCIA!" I ran past the couch I'd slept on countless times; past the TV I'd sit and watch movies in front of. "Garcia please!" Then I ran past the blood.
"No. No. NO! Strauss was lying she was-" The TV turning on caused me to spin around, weapon raised. I stood confused as it flickered to life.
"Hello Derek Morgan. Missing something?" My eyes widened and he smiled cruelly. My breathing then became uneven. I tried to get a good look at him; his face was hard to make out from the shadows that bounced of his cheeks. The only thing I could really see were his hands; covered in dried blood.
"Where is she?" Nothing moved except his smile which grew impressively bigger. "I said where is she you son of a bitch!" It was then that he moved to the side and I saw to my utmost horror, Garcia. She was hanging from the ceiling; her hands bound by chains above her head. Her feet chained to the floor below her. She had been beaten; long knife marks stretched from her elbows to her wrists and burns marks where still hot on her legs. Rage cursed through me and I screamed, "Let her go! Let her go and take me! Torture me!" I saw her scream in protest, but the gag in her mouth made she sure didn't make a sound.
"You satisfied now?" I wanted to murder him. If I was in the same room, I would. "I have some rules for you."
"Rules? RULES? You think this is a GAME?"
"Of course! You should be glad; that way, you may have a chance to win," he sneered and then turned to Garcia. "I'm going to let him talk to you, sweetie. Play nice..."
I was outraged. He had no right to call her that. He had no right to even... Garcia's scream took me out of my head.
"Derek..."
"Garcia. Are you OK?" She looked at me like I just asked her if she had two heads. "You don't have to answer that. What you need to do is tell me where you are."
"I... I don't know. Far away. We drove f- for hours."
"OK. Any distinguishing noises?"
"The t-tr-train comes every hour or so." That was good. It was along the tracks.
"Any little bit helps."
"Derek... There's something I-I gotta tell you."
"No. You can tell me when I save you." I smiled, remembering. She nodded. "You listen, you do everything he says. Don't make him mad. Don't-" The killer returned and shoved the gag in her mouth. She made a choking sound and then quieted.
"Are you ready for the rules?" I nodded and he continued, "This connection will be up every hour of the day. As long as you stick to my game, you will be able to see her every hour. She won't be able to hear or see you, but you will be able to see and hear her. The only thing you cannot do, is involve anyone in finding her. Not your team, family, friends or anyone. You and you alone. I will know if you break that constriction." I sighed, how could he? "I will give you a hint. It would be unfair of me to start a game without telling you something," he said. "Here is your hint:
The light doesn't shine here;
Answers will lead the way.
I can no longer move with ease
That's why she must stay.
"I will give you two more in the future. That is all." The screen went fuzzy for a moment and I started to panic, but it returned to normal after a couple seconds. I breathed calmly. Garcia's eyes were wide, searching the room. I was trying to find out what the riddle meant when I thought that what I needed now was my team. I needed Reid to solve the riddle, JJ to get outsiders help, Prentiss to talk to family and witnesses and keep Garcia calm. I needed Hotch to lead us and I needed Garcia to-. I had to stop. This wasn't helping. I got up and searched the apartment; every crevice of every room. The killer had to leave something.
...
He didn't. I had set up a place to sleep and cleaned up the blood. I kept a sample just in case. I sat down and started to work on the riddle. The light doesn't shine here. What did that mean? It can't always be night and there must be at least one way light could get in. Answers will lead the way. Of course they would. That was obvious. Why did he need to say it? I can no longer move with ease. Was he hurt or very old? He could have hurt himself when capturing her and that means she has to stay. I sighed a breathe of relief. That means he won't kill her because he can't get another victim. That at least helped me.
It was after twelve when the killer re-entered the room. I stiffened. He glanced at me and then at Garcia. I could see she was trying to be strong. She didn't want me to see her weak. It was then that I noticed the limp. Great. I had one line figured out.
"Hey there. Want to show Agent Morgan what you've been doing the last twenty-four hours?" She shook her head and he drew closer. It was then that she looked at me. She looked with such intensity that I became scared. She looked and then so slightly I almost missed it, she shook her head. She wanted me to turn away. But it was too late. The killer took out his knife and made a fine cut across her left cheek. She screamed. "NO! NO STOP!" He did the same to the other cheek and she started to cry. Tears streaked her bloodied clothes and she rattled in her chains. The un-sub reached out and took the gag from her mouth.
"Please... Please stop this," she pleaded with him.
"Then do what I want!"
"NO! I won't!" God, didn't I tell her to listen to him? What did he want?
"Tell me or I'll.. I'll..." he smiled then, bigger than before. Then he leaned down and whispered in her ear. Her eye became wide and she screamed with such force I almost fell off the couch. "What'll it be?"
"You can kill me a thousand times over; I'll never tell." He frowned then. But he shook it off.
"I'll be back in the morning.
...
I didn't know a person could feel such pain. But what I just experienced, you would think you ripped out my heart. Garcia was whimpering quietly. "Shhhh, Baby Girl it's OK. Shhhh... I will save you. I will." I didn't care that she couldn't hear me. I put my head in my hands. I needed help. I was in over my head. I decided to tell Hotch when he got back. I didn't think the killer would be able to tell and if he could, we would find him first.
Garcia was sleeping. I didn't know how she was doing it, but she was. It was about eight o'clock and the killer hadn't come back. So far I could tell he was a white male in his thirties. He was fit enough to capture women and hold them. Since he left for hours at a time he probably had a job that required him to be on the phone or online. A job he could work from home and keep an eye on the captives.
I was about to close my eyes when I saw it. A light spot shone on the floor, directly in front of Garcia. I stared at it until it disappeared; only after a few minutes. That was the only light I'd seen it that room! I'd assumed she was in the basement, but since the light came from the ceiling, there must have been a hole that the sun could shine through. My eyes widened as I realized what this meant: it wasn't a basement. It couldn't be. The room Garcia was in was a single cell; meaning the killer had to leave her to go to his house if he wanted to. She was totally isolated and totally alone.
A/N: Hope you like it!