For Lizzabet I hope you like it and I hope everyone else enjoys it. If you like Emily in Peril stories with Morgan as a love interest you'll love Lizzabet's stories she does some great writing so you might want to check them out! She also has some other you might enjoy as well!
As Emily ascended the stairs of an old Victorian house, she found herself constantly looking behind her. She tried to convince herself there was no need to worry, Morgan was ahead of her leading them to the second floor and the rest of the team was clearing the down stairs. Looking forward she held her gun as steady as she could.
With each step she felt the stairs fall behind her, as if someone was following her, but every time she looked there was no one there. When they reached the top of the steps Morgan went to the right and she went to the left. Approaching the first room she turned around the door frame quickly, to her relief it was empty. There were two rooms left before the hallway ended. Her heart was racing, something didn't feel quite right. The wooden, dusty floors creaked with every step, the doors to the bedrooms swayed and squeaked with a draft, and the corners of the walls, light fixtures, old pictures and bedroom furniture were covered in cobwebs. It was the perfect set up for a ghost or some kind of supernatural entity.
She soon was approaching the next bedroom, her gun began to shake, she tried to hold it steady as she turned the corner, then it happened. A cold, pale hand grabbed her wrists. She screamed and her gun went off. Behind her the door was slammed shut. Morgan ran down the hall, and everyone came running upstairs. With the commotion you thought the house would have fell to a crumble.
Emily was face to face with a hooded figure. She wasn't for sure if it was real or not. Was this the man they were looking for or was it someone else? No words were exchanged as he pulled her to the wall where a secret corridor opened up. There she faced a long descent down a narrow set of stone made steps. At the bottom of the winding stairs came a flickering orange glow. She felt the heat and smelled the burning wood as they crept closer.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, his cold hands pushed her onto the floor. Trying to regain her composure she pushed herself to her knees and looked around. There was a huge, stone fireplace and above it, on a mantle sat jars of red liquid. As her eyes continued around the room she noticed books, and diagrams of the body. There were tables, that appeared to be blood stained and straps, lining the edge to hold people down. On the wall there were chains and straps mounted in stone. Then there was a cabinet, locked and bound with one of the biggest chains and locks she had ever seen.
The phrase frozen with fear wasn't just a metaphor any more, it was real. Emily couldn't move, nor speak. Her mouth was gaped open. The hooded figure came up behind her and picked her up, to her feet. He then strapped her to the wall. She didn't fight, because it didn't seem real, it was almost as if it was a dream. She felt the coldness of the stone through her clothes, as he straped her to the wall in an upright position. Nothing was comfortable about this and from the way things looked, this is where she would meet her untimely demise.
This didn't seem real; it was more like something would see out of horror film. Before her stood the hooded figure, Emily couldn't make out his face. "Who are you?" She said calmly at first. There was no reply, not even a movement. "Who are you?" She said louder waiting for a response and then to no avail she returned out of her trance and said, "Who are you, you sick son-of-a-bitch? Who the hell are you?" She had hoped yelling and screaming at him would signal some sort of response.
Slowly this figure lifted his hands and pulled back his hood, to reveal an unbelievable image, resembling a fictional character. Emily was stunned by his appearance; it seemed so unreal, it was in that moment she stared at a ghostly pale face, with a sharp, black widow's peak and shoulder length black hair. His hands were long and skinny, with long, yellow nails. Emily watched his rose red lips move, as he spoke. "I am Vincent the Vampire and welcome to my lair."
"A vampire?" Emily couldn't believe, this guy actually thought he was a vampire. She wanted to laugh but held it back. Her brain began to analyze, this explains the bite marks on the torsos they have found. The un-sub thinks he's a vampire. Realizing that this was just another man, living in his delusion she didn't feel as scared. The team was just above her, surely they would rush in at any moment.
Moments passed and no team, so she thought maybe they didn't know where she was so she started to scream, "Help, I'm in here! Please! Somebody!"
"They can't hear you Emily Prentiss."
Taken back by his words she asked, "How do you know my name?"
"I know everybody's name. Like your friends who are waiting upstairs for you, your lover Derek Morgan and your friends JJ, Hotch, Rossi and Reid."
The more Vincent spoke, the more chilling he sounded. He slowly approached Emily. She pressed her head against the stone wall, trying to distance herself from him, but it was a failed effort and she knew it. His eyes seemed to pierce into her soul, and suddenly she felt cold. He reached out his hand towards her face, where he let his nails rake down the side of her cheek. Chills ran down her body. "Leave me alone!" She yelled.
He said noting and moved ever closer, "I can smell the sweetness of your blood and I can't wait to taste it."
"Taste it!" This didn't seem real, this guy was actually fixing to bite her. "You're not a vampire! You're just some sick freak living out a delusion!" This statement enraged him and she knew it. His cold hand grabbed her jaw and tilted her head sideways, exposing her neck. He opened his mouth and sunk his teeth deep into her skin, piercing through her flesh. Emily let out a shrilling scream. The pain was excruciating. She felt the warm blood run down her neck, right before Vincent began sucking it out of her. "Oh God! Please stop!" Her pleading was useless, still he continued to suck the blood. A few excruciating minutes passed by until he backed away. Emily saw the blood, her blood, all over this man's face. He licked his lips and smiled.
Emily was shocked, and horrified. It seemed surreal. Never had she been so scared in all of her life. This man just sucked her blood; there is no way she would make it out alive. Hope looked grim. Where was her team, why hadn't they come to help her? Maybe if she yelled again they could hear her. Vincent turned away and she began to yell as the blood still seeped, slowly out of her neck, "Help! Derek! Please! Somebody help me! I'm down here!" The only thing that followed was silence. Where were they? She looked to Vincent, "What are you going to do with me?"
He laughed eerily, "I'm going to suck your blood, I crave it's sustenance." He walked over to the bolted cabinet. Emily was curious as to what was inside. When he opened it the site was gruesome. Women's heads lined the shelves, row after row. The smell of death infiltrated the room, gagging her. She swallowed down the bile as it crept up her throat. "This Emily Prentiss is where you will end up." Is all he said.
The faces stared at her, almost as if they were blaming her and pleading for her to save them. Emily started crying. "Damn it! Derek! Where are you!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. Her head drooped as the tears streamed down her face. If this had been more of a normal situation maybe she could make sense of it and compartmentalize, but nothing about this situation was normal. She has seen some horrible, unthinkable things, but this, and experiencing it herself was more than she could bear. What she didn't understand about this is how no one could hear her. She looked to the bottom stairs hoping Morgan would come running down and carry her away from this nightmare, but he never came.
"I'm so thirsty." Were the words that made her shudder. Vincent smiled as he walked fluidly to her.
"Please no! Not again!" Those icy cold fingers grabbed her jaw once again and turned her head sideways. There was no fighting him. "You coward! Is the only way you can get any pleasure is by tying us up!" Those words were enraging. Again he bit down hard, piercing her fair skinned flesh, deeper than before. This time more painful and Emily let out another ear piercing scream. She felt her skin being pulled into his mouth as he sucked her blood. "Stop! Please!" Emily was having trouble breathing, she was panicking. His grasp around her jaw became tighter and the pressure was increasing as if he was going to crush it. After a few grueling minutes he backed away again.
Once again his mouth was covered in her wet blood, his eyes were closed as his licked his lips savoring the flavor.
Emily's breathing was trying to return to normal. She watched Vincent grab a knife and come towards her. "No!"
"I can't resist!" He said bringing the knife up to her neck.
"No! Please!" Emily could feel the sharpness of the knife pressed against her neck and then he ran it across, slicing her throat. "Der…" She tried to yell for him but her voice was cut off and she started losing consciousness. The last thing she felt was the warm blood pouring out of her neck and then the icy cold fingers squeezing it out even more so.
In the distance she heard her name. Everything then went black. "Emily! Emily!" She opened her eyes and there was Morgan leaning over her. She sat up into his chest and cried. Morgan wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay. Everything's okay. You killed him."
"What do you mean I killed him?" Emily said looking into Morgan's eyes.
"You shot him, straight through the heart." He turned Emily, convincing her that he what he said was true and there he was next to her, dead in his own pool of blood.
Emily retracted back into Morgan's arms at the sight of him. "It's not possible. It was all too real."
"What was Emily? What was real?" He asked trying to comfort her.
Emily stood up with Morgan's help. She walked over to the wall and pushed on it, "This opens up."
"What do you mean?" Hotch said.
"The wall it opens up." Emily tried to push on it and when it didn't budge she started kicking it and in a fit of rage she began slamming herself into the wall. Morgan and Rossi pulled her off of it. She fell back into Morgan's arms. "Get me out of here!" She yelled.
Morgan held her against him, shielding her as they walked down the rickety stairs and back outside. When they reached the front lawn she separated herself from him and was sobbing. He tried to wrap his arms back around her but she pushed him away. "Just give me a minute. Please."
Morgan then noticed something. He walked up to her and gently tilted her head, "Emily where did you get those bite marks?"
Well hoped you liked it I kind of left it hanging a little but I think it sort of fit the story.