Disclaimer: don't own criminal minds or the rest of the copy right to it. I just like writing fanfics for it.
"If a man harbors any sort of fear, it percolates through all thinking, damages his personality and makes him a landlord to a ghost."- Lloyd Douglas
The dark streets lingered with fog and the stench of foul blood as a tall man walked through, his worn gray trench coat flying off his body, the hood of his sweater lifting around his head. He approaches an 18th century house in bad condition, yet a town treasure; the old red bricks and white marble columns are faded with age while the north wing of the house has begun to crumble. The man sits on the steps of the house, his eyes cast down as he lights a sigerate.
"HELP, SOMEONE HELP!"
The man sighs, looking toward the direction of the sound. If he had been the person he once had been he would have gone to help that person. However he was no longer that man. He had not been that person in many months now, he often wondered if he had been that person before he even left. He closed his eyes as he heard another scream, getting up he walked into his house. A new name would be added to the obituary in the morning paper and again he would have guilt over it. It was the life he now held, though he did not want it, nor did he like it, it was his. Again like the nights before, he questioned wither the person he once was was dead or hidden from him.