There are some direct quotations here from 1984, by George Orwell, and I'd just like to say that, in addition to not owning Criminal Minds, that brilliant dystopian novel does not belong to me. The twisted nature of the story belongs exclusively to George Orwell, and all the credit goes to him. I have used one scene in particular in that book in which Winston and Julia are taking the oath allowing them into the anti-Big Brother club, or whatever the proper name of it is, and I am using that to get inside of the twisted mind of a fictional serial killer-y OC that I have created. Direct quotations from the novel are underlined.

So there's the information, I hope you like it.

Also, this will have established Moreid.

"Please let us go," the black-haired woman pleaded. Her voice was shaky and filled with tears and she hardly tried to hide her fear from the intruder. She was sitting on her knees, vulnerable and submissive, on the bed in the motel room that she and her husband had been staying in while on their couples hiking trip together, and she pulled her handcuffed hands together as a sign of begging. "Please; we didn't do anything!"

"You will understand that I must start by asking certain questions," the intruder said, his voice deep, calm, and firm. His right hand held a .22 pistol, pointed directly at the woman's husband, who was sitting beside her, his jaw set and his eyes aflame. The intruder just ignored him. "In general terms, what are you prepared to do?"

"Anything!" the woman sobbed, bowing her head as tears flowed freely from her eyes. "I'll do anything! Just please don't hurt him -"

"You are prepared to give your life?" the man interrupted in a solemn voice.

"Y-yes."

"You are prepared to commit murder?"

The woman looked up at this, her tears momentarily slowing in her confusion. "I -"

The man's thin lips were pulled thinner at her hesitation and he repeated in a forced patient voice, "You are prepared to commit murder?"

"I -" she turned to look at her husband, but he had his eyes fixed determined at the man. At her husband's silence, a small dispute was settled in her mind. In an unsure voice, she said, "Yes."

The man continued, his voice steady. "You are prepared to commit acts of sabotage which may cause the death of hundreds of innocent people?"

If the woman was confused before, this question completely baffled her. She couldn't speak for a moment before squeaking, "What?"

The man growled, pressing the nose of the gun into the husband's forehead.

Panic spread across the woman's face. "Yes, I will! I will!"

The man's fingers relaxed slightly on the gun as he continued. "You are prepared to betray your country to foreign powers?"

The woman quirked her eyebrows. "What do you mean, betray -"

The man pointed the gun at the ceiling, fired, and lowered it back to the husband's face again. "Are you prepared -"

"Yes, I'm prepared," the woman said, the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes again. "I'm prepared! Please -"

"You are prepared to cheat, to forge, to blackmail -"

"I'm prepared, I'm prepared," the woman chanted as if it were a practiced tear-filled mantra. "I'm prepared, I'm -"

"Let me finish," the man snapped at her.

The woman tried to wipe her eyes, but the handcuffs secured tightly around her wrists made doing so very difficult. "I'm sorry -"

"You are prepared to cheat, to forge, to blackmail, to corrupt the minds of children, to distribute habit-forming drugs, to encourage prostitution, to disseminate venereal diseases - to do anything which is likely to cause demoralization and weaken the power of the Party?"

"Yes, I'm prepared; just please -"

"If, for example," the man interrupted in a loud voice, "it would somehow serve our interests to throw sulfuric acid in a child's face - are you prepared to do that?"

The woman's stomach flipped over and she felt like vomiting. The feeling only intensified when she found herself whispering, "Yes." She flinched at her own voice, and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that her husband wasn't watching her.

The man thought nothing of her response. "You are prepared to lose your identity and live out the rest of your life as a waiter or a dock worker?"

The captured woman was hardly listening to the questions, so disgusted was she with herself. "Yes."

"You are prepared to commit suicide, if and when we order you to do so?"

The woman lifted her eyes at the word suicide and held the man's gaze for a few, brutally long seconds, before looking back at the floor. "Yes."

The man's shoulders loosened when he realized it had finally happened. The dullness in her voice combined with her lack of tears, told him that she was defeated. He won. He had broken her. "You are prepared, the two of you," he added, moving the gun from the husband to the woman, "to separate and never see each other again?"

The woman's blood ran cold. "What -"

"Are you fucking prepared to never see each other again?" the man roared angrily, waving the gun between the couple in front of him at a dangerously fast rate.

"We can't -" the woman said helplessly, finally catching the eye of her husband who looked at her very sadly and desperately. "Not after -"

"Your answer is no?" the man asked, his attention zeroing in on the wild-eyed woman.

The woman looked at her husband for a few seconds longer before taking a deep breath and saying, "My answer is no."

The man lowered the gun to his side and rubbed his aching shoulder. He'd held the gun up for an excruciating amount of time. His voice was calm and collected as he said, "You did well to tell me. It's necessarily for us to know everything."

The husband tore his gaze away from his wife to look back at the man. "Who's us?"

But the intruder didn't answer.