HAUNTED
Disclaimer for this particular story: I do not own Children of the Corn or Criminal Minds.
Warnings: Collection of short stories mean that these stories are in no way connected to one another. If a character dies in one story, they can very well be alive in the next. These stories are crossovers meaning that some characters will have come from other books/tv series/movies. Short stories are usually several chapters long so it might be fast-paced. There will be character death(s) in some stories but not all.
Inspiration: Stephen King, the creator of The Ring, The Grudge, Blackboxtv on Youtube, the horror genre in general and of course, watching and anticipating the next Criminal Minds episode this Wednesday.
.
.
Summary:
Collection of short stories that feature crossovers with movies or books of the horror genre, i.e. "Children of the Corn", "The Ring", etc; starring our favorite profiler cast. Warning: character deaths.
.
.
01. Part I: SLAUGHTER IN GATLIN
Summary of "Slaughter in Gatlin" –
Aaron Hotchner and Spencer Reid have to travel up to Wyoming to interrogate a man on death-row. They decide to drive there because Aaron still has problems with the ringing in his ear. Unfortunately as they start to past through Nebraska, their SUV breaks down near a seemingly deserted town known as Gatlin…
.
.
The droning buzz of the car engine against the quiet of the rural road leading through the state of Nebraska nearly put Spencer to sleep sitting in the front passenger seat. Aaron Hotchner, the Unit Chief of the FBI's BAU, gripped the steering wheel and accelerated on the gas pedal, ignoring the slight lurches of the SUV as they drove over mounds of dirt and pebbles and gravel. The silence in the SUV was deafening, threatening to suffocate the two men, encasing them in a small invisible box with the lid firmly shut.
Spencer found himself staring out the window at the endless rows of corn, corn, corn. It was like someone was bored one day and decided it would be funny to plant fields of corns in the middle of rural Nebraska – AKA the middle of nowhere – to drive the poor lost passersby crazy because Spencer sure as hell felt like he'd go crazy if he had to keep seeing corn everywhere for the next two hours or until Hotch decided to call it quits for the night which Spencer hoped was soon. The young profiler snuck a glance at his more serious boss to see Aaron Hotchner's narrowed eyes pointedly staring at the road, his hands tightly clenching the steering wheel as if super glued there.
As if sensing the profiler's eyes on him, Aaron's hands relaxed slightly and his voice seemed to boom out in the dead silence of the SUV. "Want me to turn on the radio?" he asked as the vehicle lurched forward again, making Spencer's head almost collide against the headboard due to the suddenness. "Sorry about that – damn road," the unit chief muttered. He turned to the right slightly as a curve came up.
Spencer rubbed his head and let out a sigh. He didn't care much about music but it was better than the deathly quiet that seemed to be cocooning the SUV and he also preferred it over the slightly more than soft thumping of his heart as it beat rapidly in his ribcage. "Sure," he said hesitatingly, his eyes back to watching the endless seas of corn. There was something very unnerving about the lack of change in scenery for the past hour and a half to Spencer and he was sure, to Aaron as well. Still his boss didn't say a word as he quickly darted out a hand to turn the radio on.
Some old country music the two never heard of before…
"I might have missed a turn back there," Aaron said sourly, squinting into the windshield. It was getting late and he couldn't see much even with the headlights turned on, except well, the seemingly endless amounts of corn peering at them from every which direction. He looked over at Spencer for a second before focusing back to the road ahead. His younger companion was getting tired and quite frankly, so was Aaron. "Think we should stop somewhere nearby for the night?" he asked, peering out in a vain search for a motel to crash in. Of course, when did the country ever have a motel or hotel? He wasn't sure they even passed by a gas station yet.
Spencer grimaced. The music faded as the song finally ended and a male voice started to preach into the SUV. He saw his unit chief frown and hurriedly turn the radio back off. Spencer wasn't a religious man – he was more of a person that only believed in things that he could see and God, well, no one ever saw God. He wasn't too sure about Aaron because the man never talked about things like that – he was an extremely private individual – but it wouldn't shock Spencer if his boss didn't believe in God either.
"It is getting dark," Spencer observed quietly.
It was haunting how fast the afternoon changed to evening, how quickly the dark clouds took over the sky as the bright yellow sun was reluctantly pushed down behind the mountains. The sudden forward jerk of the SUV seemed to snap Spencer out of his somber reveries and back into cold reality of Aaron Hotchner wrestling with the steering wheel. He watched as the dark haired man pressed hard on the brakes but the SUV seemed to ignore the action as the vehicle continued on its one-way track to the fields of corn ahead of them.
Cursing, Aaron Hotchner let go of the steering wheel as the motor made an odd sputtering noise before, then, giving one more pathetic tug forwards letting the SUV finally come to a complete stop right in front of the maze of corn. Spencer, wide-eyed and more awake than ever, turned to stare at the rows of corn just outside of them. The sky seemed to darken even more.
From beside him, Aaron was also sitting stiff in his chair as if he was frozen to it, not wanting to believe that they just broke down in the middle of nowhere. This wasn't exactly what he meant by stopping somewhere to rest for the night. He glanced over to his companion whom sat to the right of him in the front passenger seat. Spencer hasn't said a word for a few minutes now. Neither did Aaron.
The front engine of the SUV had stopped a minute ago and the two men were sitting in more silence. He wished that the radio worked still, even if that meant putting up with some religious fool talking crap about Judgment Day or God himself all night long.
"You okay, Reid?" he asked knowing it was kind of a pointless question but at the same time not wanting to put up with any more of the quietness that found its way into the vehicle.
Spencer turned to him slowly and swallowed down the nausea that tried to creep up his throat. Personally, he didn't want to be stuck in the SUV all night but out here in the middle of nowhere, Nebraska (because he didn't see one lousy town or gas station for more than several hours by now) he was more than positive they would have no phone service. He tried to nod that he was okay even though he was still slightly in shock and haven't a clue what happened besides almost crashing themselves into a bunch of stupid corn. "I'm fine," he said, swallowing again and reaching a shaky hand down to unbuckle his seatbelt.
Aaron was already doing the same once his brain finally managed to kick-start itself again, screaming into the his head something along the lines of I'm not sleeping in the SUV. Once he stumbled out of the car and moved to the front to see the exact damage of the vehicle, he found himself staring hopelessly down at the mess of the engine, smoke coming out of it in a thick stream. He tried not to inhale any of the smoke as he darted past it to Spencer's side and helped the profiler out.
"Think we'll get a signal out here?" he asked in a strained voice, his hand already dipping down into the front pocket of his pants for his cell phone as the young genius shook his head dejectedly. He punched in numbers and put the phone to his ear, waiting and hoping to get a ring on the other end but part of him already realized that Spencer was right and after a few desperate minutes of nothing, he had to give up and put the phone back into his pocket. He sighed and looked around them. There was nothing but the dirt road, the SUV and corn. Corn, corn, corn.
The logical thing to do was to get back inside the SUV and sleep there for the night and decide the next course of action - which was really only one he realized (and probably neither men even liked) - first thing in the morning. But there was a part of Aaron – a large part – that was starved and thirsty and wanted nothing more than to rest his head on a nice, soft pillow even if said pillow belonged to a cheap motel off the side of the road. He looked at Spencer and could tell with one glance that the young profiler wanted the same thing.
"Maybe we should go back to the SUV and sleep there for the night," Spencer suggested wryly, noticing how his boss was trying hard to keep awake and focused. "It's getting really dark, Hotch. Besides JJ packed me some nutrition bars for the trip, remember?"
It was true and it was the more logical thing to do and part of Aaron realized that, knew that but truth be told, Aaron was getting sick of doing the logical thing when all he wanted was a nice comfy bed to lay on for one more night and a full belly of real food like chicken and tacos (not some stupid nutrition bar that barely sated even half of his hunger) and maybe some beer to go with that. God, would he do anything for a night to drown himself in some liquor. But looking back at Spencer, he knew he was right. There was no way the two would make it to the nearest town, if there even was a town around them for miles anyway, before their feet would give due to exhaustion.
As he nodded his reluctant agreement to go back into the SUV and wait until morning, the two men suddenly became aware of someone watching them. Swiveling around quickly to catch sight of a lone dark figure out further down the road, Spencer heard his heart pounding faster in his chest, threatening to rip out of him. "Hotch," he hissed and heard the slight movement of his boss coming to stand next to him as he too watched as the black silhouette of the person dropped to the ground. Spencer wasn't sure why but fear clenched at his heart and he had to swallow the absurd, almost overwhelming urge to run as far in the opposite direction of the figure as possible.
Instead he looked over to Aaron and saw the man's hands clench into fists on either side of him. Lost or not, stranded in the middle of nowhere or not, they were still FBI. They helped people for a living and just because their SUV managed to break down to the side of the road gave them no right to turn their backs on a fellow human being. Without another word to each other, the two men began to march across the rural road of Nebraska, unconsciously heading into the open arms of nightmarish Gatlin.