"Which one of you is it?" Cyrus blurted out, seconds after entering the room.
Reid passed him a confused look, as did I, but out minds flew into over drive as he brought out his gun.
"Which one of you is the FBI agent?" He began to repeat and I forced myself to loose the look of shock and realisation off of my face.
"Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?" I could tell Reid was far from panicked. He was now thinking of a way out of this, and both of us knew, there was not one, not with Cyrus. As the only response to his question, Cyrus sent Reid a 'do not play dumb with me' look and clicked his gun into play to support the look.
"God will forgive me for what I must do." He took a step forward, turning the tip of the gun in the direction of Ried, straight on the path of his head. I knew at that very minute that Reid was dead if I did not intervine.
"I don't know what you are talking about." I saw Reid's nervous look, that was hidden so well that only a fellow profiler could notice it. I desperatly wanted to be anyone else but me right at this moment.
"One of you does. Who is it?" He never once took his eyes, or gun off of Reid, and it was in that moment that I realised. Reid was already as good as dead to him. He had no hesitation in killing him, but that meant he believed I was innocent. That a woman could not be held responsible for this 'hanus' crime. There would be no way he would kill me, so I spoke up:
"Me." I paused allowing Reid's protective glare to fall on me. "It's me." I repeated, and now Cyrus' eyes came on me. Before I knew it, the gun was unclicked and he had a fistful of my hair in his hand. I was now in a world of pain. Each single hair seemingly being torn from my scalp, so I cried out. I could not help it. It just happened. God knows what Reid did then, I was to busy trying not to cry out for another time, to notice. Before I could even manage to release the water from my eyes, to attepmt to lock eyes with Reid, for what hopefully was not the last time, I was pulled away, into a little isolated side room. Just me and Cyrus.
"I told you not to put me in this position!" He released my hair and sent me a hateful look. I sucked in a deep breath, and with my best effort attempted to stand, but failing, only managing to get on my hands and knees before a stinging hand came to my cheek. Then I finally cried out. Another cry of pain came from my mouth as his foot met my abdomen, forcing me to resume the previous lying down position I was in.
"Get up!" He harshly tugged me so I was in a standing position, barely, as the ache in my stomach consumed me and almost crippled me over, but before I could grab my stomach to cushion the pain, I had a fist connected to my face, accompanying the previous slap. The force of the punch sent me hurdling over into the mirror on the wall, shards of glass meeting my chest, one to my lower neck and the rest to my arms and my face. Once again, he had his hands back against my hair, pushing my face further into the broken peices.
"Proverbs 20:30 tells us, 'Blows the wounds cleanse away evil.'" And it was in those six seconds I remembered that the team could hear me. They could hear every word, cry of pain and hit he passed. I knew they would consider coming in to save me. They were far to involved in this case not to be considering that, so I knew I would have to stop them.
"I can take it." I managed to cry out after he spun me 'round and threw me against the floor.
"You can take it?" Cyrus rhetorically asked with confidence, whilst throwing another slap my way. I gasped for breath helplessly, the breath being knocked from my body, I just hoped the team had heard me. The next ten seconds I was greatful for. A short amount of time that I used to realise where the pain was, what damage had been done and make an attepmt to evaporate all the pain away.
"I can take it." I repeated one last time, hoping the team had finally heard me. A sharp breath filled my lungs, as did pain as a broken rib met my muscles and stung madly.
"Pride comes before the fall." Cyrus launched a fist at my gut, making me cripple over and let out a shreik of horror and pain. He tightly grabbed my arm and hair before throwing me to the floor, right beside the pile of broken peices. That is all I am to him, something broken. I felt as my body convulsed with pain. The taste of blood filling my mouth. I tried my very best not to do it, but my eyes won the battle and soon they lolled back in my head, dizziness consuming me. I plunged into unconsiousness.