A/N: Whelp, here we are again. I'm typing up a story I wrote forever ago while simultaneously working on like three other stories in other fandoms.
Anyway, here it is December 2014, and according to the paper, I wrote this in June 2011, but I think I started it in May of that year because I remember writing it in the last few weeks of school.
This was my official first fanfiction I ever wrote. I was in the wee seventh grade then, and now I'm halfway through my junior year.
So... anyway, please read and review.
I'll probably update more often for this story, being as it is already written (all 38 pages) but just needs to be typed.
This started out as a spin on 2x15 "Revelations" but I think it kind of took on it's own thing after a while.
Enjoy!
"Are you Dr. Spencer Reid on the BAU team of the FBI?" is what I awoke to. The cold hollow feel of metal on the back of my head told me what to say.
"Yes," I answer. I'm not sure why I have been taken hostage, but I always knew that working with the FBI had its risks.
I would have probably been able to calculate where I was taken if I hadn't been drugged.
I decided not to panic right now, and just to wait it out. I figured I would get a chance to some how get out or signal someone later.
It's only been an hour or so since I woke up, and although the window is behind me, and it is small, I've decided it's about 8 AM. Which, when you think about it, makes sense.
I know it was dark when I was taken. Most drugs like what I was probably given work for only about 2-3 hours, and I see 3 small pricks on my arm. Which would mean I was taken around 1 or 2 AM.
Hopefully if someone hand't noticed I'm gone now, they will within the hour.
I've decided to try and figure out why I may have been abducted. My head is still a little fuzzy, but I think it's clear enough to work it out.
Let's see. Our team has been working on a case of people getting murdered and then dumped along a highway. The only connection to them was that they all had been killed with a slow nasty slit to the throat.
This case has been particularly interesting for one, these murders have all taken place in Las Vegas, my hometown. Which is where we are now, or at least where I hope I still am.
My head's more clear now. I have just realized that I wasn't asleep when I was captured. The sore spot on my head confirms it. I remember it all.
We had just gotten some information and were going to check it out. Morgan and I were already headed for somewhere near. So when we were instructed to meet up at the UnSub's house, we were the first one's there. Knowing everyone else was practically right behind us, we decided to check out the perimeter. Morgan to the left, me to the right.
Well, apparently whoever was in the house was going out the side the same time I was. And I'm glad I had on my bulletproof vest. First, a shot to my chest. Luckily, it just knocked me off my feet.
I could hear Morgan yelling to me, and running. Unfortunately, he didn't get to me before my captor knocked me out with something flat and metal. Most likely a shovel.
That was when I was waken up by that cold, cruel voice. I'm glad I've got my bearings straight now. Well, besides the fact that I still don't know where I am.
"I see your awake?" said that voice again. I see that someone has come inside.
Wait, when did he leave? I didn't he just wake me up?
"Where am I?" I ask, even though I know I won't get an answer.
"You didn't answer my questions!" the voice responded.
You made a statement, not a question. This guy is crazy!
"Yes... Yes, I'm awake." I manage to stay calm a bit. It's hard for one to stay calm though when you have been taken hostage by the person who tortured and killed five people. Especially when you don't know what that person might do to you...
"Good. Now you can help me. I need-"
"Help you?! With what? You have me tied up and stripped of all my things but my clothes. Well, then again I don't blame you. Why would you tie up an FBI agent with his gun and-" I say, it all coming out at once. I'm usually very good at controlling myself. Why can't I now?
"You interrupted me."
"What?"
"You interrupted me! Interrupting me is ruse. Rude people make me mad." he said, very angry now.
"But, I didn't mean to! I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me! I was taught to be respectful and never be rude as a young child. I am usually very good! Please!" I say, starting to panic.
"Oh shut up! You will pay for what you have done!" he says as he rips me out of the chair I'm on, and onto the floor, pushing down on my back, making it straight. He takes off my shirt.
"We'll see what your friends think of this!" I hear him say and get a glimpse of a camera being pointed in my direction one a stand above me.
I'm not able to keep up with my cries of pain as he whips me across the back several times. He somehow does it in perfect time and place so that each blow hurts to the max. I wonder if anyone around can hear me. I know I am bleeding.
After a horrible two or three minutes of slashes, I slip into unconsciousness.
When I wake up I am back in the chair, although mt shirt has disappeared. I see the cruel, evil man in the corner.
"As I was trying to say earlier before I was RUDELY interrupted, I need your help to decide who to kill tonight, If you help me, I will give the address of my victim to the FBI." he explains. I notice the camera is up again.
"Why... Why would I help you kill someone?" I ask, not believing what I hear. I see four laptops in front of me, each spying on someone.
"Why would you help me? Well, for one, I'll release the address of where I'm going so that maybe they'll get there in time. And, if you don't, you'll regret it." he says, getting a little irritated.
"I refuse to help you!" I say, wondering what my consequences will be.
"Hey, it's your decision!" he says while grabbing a gun from a nearby table and unexpectedly shooting me in the leg. Luckily it only shaved off the side, but that didn't keep the pain from being any worse. As I double over, I hear him speak.
"Have you reconsidered you decision?"
"Yes! Yes! I have!" I manage to say. "But only as long as you give them the address."
"Fine, fine, whatever. Just pick!" he says, very angry now.
"Umm... far left corner." I say, seeing that there's two people in the room. Although it's hard to see considering all of the pain shooting through me.
"Alright. Good choice." he says, sounding scarily pleased. He then spins around, recites the address to the camera and turns it off before running out of the door.
I sit here, trying to cope with the pain. I wonder if anyone will come. It's dark now, but there is a fire burning over to the side that keeps it well lit.
I look over to the laptop I chose and see something. Or someone I should say. I see that there is only one person in the room now. It is a woman.
I watch now as my captor, dressed in black, runs in from nowhere, cuts the throat of the woman, and runs off again. It is a horrible sight, and I see a man, probably the husband, rush toward her, while calling someone on the phone. I hear him frantically yelling at the police now. I watch as the police come and investigate the scene.
A minute or two later my team arrives.
They look around an investigate. I then see Hotch walk over to the camera that I'm viewing from. He starts talking to me.
"Reid, if your listening, I want you to know that none of this is your fault. I'm sorry for what has happened, and we are going to find you soon. Just hang in there."
I get a little hopeful, but just a little. I believe I will eventually get out, I just don't know when. I hope it's soon.
After about 30 minutes, everything is wrapped up. There is no sign of the man who has taken me and killed six others now. I need to be careful. I could become number seven.
That thought scares me. I need not to think that. It's not going to help me.
I then start to think what it would be like without me. I wonder what would happen to my mother.
When I was 18 I moved her to a specialty hospital here in Las Vegas. I regret it all the time, but wonder how she would have been if I didn't. That was only about 5 years ago. I write to her everyday to make up for not visiting her. I wonder how she is. I din't get to write to her today, of coarse. I hope someone has told her. But at the same time I don't. I don't want her to worry, but at the same time, if no one tells her she probably still will. If she's lucid enough that is.
I think about how my team will be. I'm not trying to brag or anything, but I do help solve many cases, and my intelligence helps make a profile sometimes, or find what were looking over.
If I were to... pass, in the next few days, or days, I would at least know I ha a good enough life. I have worked for the FBI for four years. That is something many people can't say. Also, many others can't say they have an IQ of 187, can read 20,000 words a minute, or have an eidetic memory.
I am feeling very tired now. I hope I can get some sleep before that guy some back. Hopefully he'll let me sleep naturally when he comes back. I'll just have to wait an see.
A/N: Is it OOC? Probably.
Are you going to review negatively? Considering the way the CriMin fandom responds to my work usually, probably.
Would I love you forever if you reviewed, whether it be in praise or *CONSTRUCTIVE* criticism? ABSOLUTELY.
I'll post soon enough. This is nine (9) pages out of 38 so far, so you can imagine how long it is.
I take my last final tomorrow (yay) so I should get time to type.