AU: The team is missing. Where are they? Who has taken them? What do they want with them? (Supernatural/Fantasy/loose-Biblical references, so be warned if you're against any of that)

She thought she would die on her feet.

The forest before her seemed endless. The twigs and stones were merciless on the bare soles of her feet. Every step burned, blood kept her footing damp on the sharp undergrowth - a scent for them to follow. They wouldn't need the hounds to find her; they had the best tracker they would ever need.

The pounding of footsteps not hers, too deep and too harsh from rubber soles and scrabbling paws - the drumming of her heart in her ears would render her deaf. Each breath burned, sweat pricked her eyes; she was running blind.

Behind her was black, ahead of her even darker. A bitter voice in her frantic mind contemplated the lesser of two evils - which one to surrender herself to first; the monster of the darkness, or the beast of her mind?

"There!"

At first she thought she'd been struck by a club. Hard, sturdy and damaging, the wind was stolen from her lungs, and she crumbled to the underbrush with a pained scream. She fought immediately, clawing, kicking, gnashing her teeth like the feral creature they thought her to be, but there was no use fighting the brute that came upon her like the fury of the very night itself.

He pinned her as easily as he would've pinned a rabbit; it terrified her to discover the kind of strength he'd hid away underneath his business suits. There were no restraints here, nothing to keep the beast within him chained, and she strained to find his face in the darkness. Desperately she fought his bruising grip; she tasted the rust and salt of her sweat and blood on her mouth. Her face contorted in a pained shriek when his knees straddled her thighs. The muscles burned; she gasped aloud and hated herself for it.

She realized then – that was no club that struck her.

"Hotch…." The rest of the hunting group had gathered around them, watching in impatient huddles and snarling breaths. The dogs heaved and strained at their leashes, their gleaming fangs clear in the dim light of the flashlights that hoarded over their bodies like spotlights. She searched his face desperately, pleaded with him as much as she would allow herself to – without submission but with a vicious defiance. Weak and wounded, she was no match for him, let alone the rest of them. Still she bore her teeth at her former supervisor and let her eyes flash black at the man's unreadable face.

"I hope you rot in hell."

The crowd of men around them spat and jeered at her, the dogs snarled louder; their jaws clipped together dangerously close to her flesh. The man pinning her was motionless though, and even then she could feel the rough leather of his bindings biting into the skin of his wrists. A sound vibrated through his chest, louder than the dogs, sharper than the sneering words of the shrouded men around them. He leaned in slowly, like a ghost, and she saw the gleam of her own frightened face in the bottomless abyss of his black eyes.

His breath was hot, his voice harsh and grating – no longer human, more beast than anything else. The heave of his breath on her ear made her shiver; the words that came next promised a horrifying punishment.

"I'm already in it, Emily. You are too."

Beyond that, Emily remembered the sight of a boot slamming into the side of her head.

One week prior

They'd been told to keep on the roads. It wasn't a difficult order to adhere to; they were federal agents who knew what waited for unsuspecting wanderers on the roads not taken. Missing wanderers were the very reason they were out there in the first place - people disappearing into the woods; men and women alike. They'd anticipated it to be a sick and twisted version of game hunting...but no bodies were found.

They'd disappeared, and that was the end of it.

But then a body was found on the edge of a forest, seemingly untouched, as if it'd fallen asleep there.

Their only known victim was a five year old girl. Poisoned and left for dead.

That was enough reason for them to drive out.

The road was blocked. A fallen tree out of the blue, perfectly set across their path. It wouldn't have disturbed them as much if they didn't realize the trunk had been sliced through cleanly with a chainsaw.

A trap.

The men were immediately guarded; the dark gaze of their supervisor glanced back to the blonde and brunette women sitting uneasily together. "Stay here," he ordered. They saw his piece in his right hand. "Lock the doors after us."

Their eyes met, their gazes lingered for what seemed to her as an eternity. It broke with the sound of Morgan's door opening.

Morgan and Hotch disembarked and approached the tree warily; behind their car was another - Reid and Rossi flashing their headlights curiously. Emily turned in her seat to peer at them through the glass, and her eyes caught Rossi's suspicious gaze. She lifted her hand, fingers to the sky, and mimicked the falling of a tree.

She frowned when Rossi's eyes grew wide, and the man scrambled out of the driver's seat towards them. "Get back in the car!" he shouted, gun poised in front of him, the other hand waving frantically. "Get back in the damn car, it's an ambush!"

But the warning came too late - a horrid grinding noise came from either side, JJ screamed as an explosion of glass came upon them. Emily swore violently, grasping at her holster by her hip, pulling her sig into her hand. But it was too late.

All too violently there was a hand in her hair, nearly ripping the roots from her scalp as she was hauled out of the car. Pain bloomed like flames under her eyelids, she could hear JJ screaming from the other side of the car and the men roaring at their captors to release them, and Emily turned her eyes upwards to the man holding her hair in his fist.

"Get away from them!" Hotch's booming voice reverberated through the forest space; Emily's quiet gasps of fear were smothered by the sight of her Unit Chief standing in the moonlight like a statue, the glint of his gun clear in the gibbous moon above them.

She fought ruthlessly, kicking the against her captor and sinking her short nails as harshly as she could into the skin of his wrist. It was useless, she thought bitterly. Her nails were nonexistent and his skin was tough like leather - she would sooner break her nails than his skin. Her eyes slammed shut when his hold tightened punishingly, and Emily felt him rip the scream from her throat.

The sound tore through his chest sharper than a bullet, and the man lunged forward as the pack of unseen men began to circle the car behind them. Screams and whimpers came from both the women - JJ cried out loudest when the men forced Reid and Rossi to their knees.

Morgan threw himself into the foray, fighting one, two men at once; releasing JJ from their grasp and shoving her under the car as the older man and young doctor both snatched their guns into their hands and began firing.

The explosion of sound threw the man holding Emily, his grip tightened hard enough to elicit another cry from the woman, and that was enough to spur Hotch into motion.

"Let her go!" he snarled, and the men collided in a rush of grunts and tussling limbs. He ripped Emily from his fist, hauling her against his chest and behind him, pausing only minutely to ensure her safety before he threw himself at the massive beast once more. He slammed his fist into the man's jaw, smirking viciously at the satisfying crunch before jamming his knee into his chest.

"Hotch, watch out!" Emily cried, and Hotch reeled back just as a club came crashing down onto his opponent's chest. There was a sickening crunch of bone and blood, and they knew he was dead. Hotch scrambled backwards, rising to his feet to face the new threat, only to have his spine chill at the horrifying scream that came from Emily's mouth once more.

"HOTCH!"

Emily's wail came just as a club slammed into the back of his skull.

More detail in the next chapter. I just wanted this out here.