A/N: Thank you so much for reading my last story! This is a continuation of the plot of Hold Me Close and Dominance. This is about six months after the little dealing in Natchez. Haley's quit the dig at the Emerald Mound and came home on a self-induced hiatus from school, claiming she was two years ahead in study anyways. She's living with Reid and JJ now in a new apartment, better suited for a budding family.

"The killing was the best part. It was the dying I couldn't take." –Craig Volk

Prologue

Haley sat on top of the wooden crate in the storage house just a few miles out of Quantico. This was when she was happiest, sharpest. She could clearly see her objectives and her purpose for doing things. The knife shined in the soft light of the bulb dangling above.

Spencer had noticed that recently she had been quieter. More direct with the things she was doing. Haley was less of a nervous wreck now, but she'd found a quick cure for most of her anxieties. In fact, it was the only thing that stopped the shaking of her hand nowadays.

The man bound to the wall opposite her wasn't having as good of a time as she was. He might actually have been having a bad time. He was possibly regretting the rape of that thirteen year old a few weeks ago. Haley didn't care. Carefully tied ropes extended from each corner of the storage unit, like a Medieval rack of sorts; it didn't stretch. She looked calmly at him as he squirmed up on the wall some more.

Slowly, she smiled as she slid off the crate. "Now, I think you know why you're here," she said calmly.

A muffled shriek as he saw the knife. They always did something like that when they saw it.

"Now, now, Mr. Richards, the less you struggle, the easier those ropes will be on your hands. It's a special knot I figured out. Nifty, isn't it?"

He called her a bitch through the gag.

"That's not nice," she took a long, slow cut from his right shoulder to his palm of the right hand. Now she needed to act quickly, once the first cut was made, he would bleed out pretty soon. She mirrored the cut on the left arm. "Do you know what else isn't nice?"

A scream of pain through the gag.

"You stole that girl's life! You just… yanked it away for what, two, three minutes of pleasure? You're sick!" She sliced across his chest twice, forming an X. It wouldn't be long now. Already, the color was leaving him. "You ruthless bastard! She'll never have that back! And you? You'll lose something too."

He tried to say something, but Haley's knife had really dug into him. There were some intestines exposed to the outside world. As his mouth opened, blood leaked out.

"Ohh, that's not going to help you out any."

Images flashed through her mind of Roger and Rita so long ago. Of her brother having to scream while she was raped in front of him. Of the bodies of the asshole that she first killed. Death has a funny habit of coming back to you in some form or another. However, Thomas Richards didn't know this as he was gasping now.

The man merely looked at her as she looked at him until he died there.

She leaned over, snapped a button off of his shirt and shoved it into her pocket. She found that she always needed to take something from the scene. She was making a necklace.