The bunny came from tearbos. You like, thank her. :) Hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.
The young agent flipped through the endless piles of paperwork, searching for the information sheet that was supposed to be on top. "Stanton Doveleski," he spat, a sharp edge to his voice.
"What of it? So you know my name. Big deal." The giant man in the bright orange suit barely wriggled. A small smirk fell over his round face. They send me a child for this, the sadist thought. A little child I could snap in two…
"Where do you want to start?" The skinny kid was grimacing as he finally threw the set of papers in front of him, letting the scraps of notes and photographs scatter pell-mell across the thick formica.
"Doesn't matter." The sound of chains rattles through the agent's ears as Doveleski's hand rises to scratch an itch underneath his nose. "We could start with the highrise. God, that one burned like a Roman candle."
Reid looked as the face before him, a wistful, almost reverent look to it. He resisted the urge to slap the man where he sat. His hands began shaking, not much but enough for it to become difficult to grab the photo of an eight-story apartment building engulfed in flames.
"You mixed gunpowder, kerosene, and paint thinner, poured it over the fifth floor hallways, and dropped a match."
"And the screams were magnificent. You forgot the explosives wired on the first through fourth floors. The scent—it was like going home to a barbecue…" Doveleski's water-blue eyes twinkled at the memory.
"Oh, shut up," Reid snapped. His hands were twitching more violently now, and it was becoming harder to stay focused on the interview. Damn it, he thought. We've only got one chance to get this…he dies on Friday…
"That's a laugh, kid. You telling me to 'shut up.'"
"There's only one person who gets to call me that," Reid barked. "You are certainly not that person, so let's focus, shall we?"
The giant man shrugged. "Whatever."
"Damn right," the agent muttered under his breath. The shaking in his hands just wouldn't stop. His head was beginning to pound. "Now, what about this particular fire was important?"
"Cleansing ritual," Doveleski replied simply. "Doctor had told me two months before I needed to relieve some stress. Decided that burning the place would do the trick. You know, aromatherapy and crap."
"Burning flesh as aromatherapy." Reid repeated. God, he could smell the scents just thinking about them—smoke, ash, paint thinner, burnt flesh. His stomach turned over inside him just thinking about it. His shoulders began twitching, and the headache worsened.
"Yep. Happened again in Cleveland. Just…needed a good barbecue, you know? Doctor told me I couldn't have that, and I decided to prove him wrong. Smelled good, too—scent of charred doc all nicely crisp in the right places. Almost wish I'd have eaten him, but…"
"You're saying each fire was triggered by a doctor's order?" Reid's eyes grew wide at that, and he was vaguely aware of his voice rising an octave or two.
"Look, kid, I'm the evil psychotic in the room, and I can tell you're clearly not focused here," Doveleski said. "We got time…"
"No, we don't," Reid snapped. "You're scheduled to die in thirty-six hours."
"Then get your shit together or we're done." Doveleski wished right then that he had a match in his hand. The kid would go up like a birthday candle, he thought. All bright and pretty…the smell, though—thatwould be fabulous…
"What're you thinking about?"
"How good you'd smell if I tossed you in a slow fire."
Reid tried hard not to show disgust. "Yeah, well, I've been ordered off coffee, and I've got a gun. You think the memory of smell is strong? Try getting the shakes from caffeine withdrawal."
Doveleski instantly fell silent. The kid's voice…it almost sounded possessed…
Across from him, Reid sat dreaming of a swimming pool full of espresso. "Now, about the fire in Zanesville…"