A/N: I've gotten the beginning of part two done so the next update may come in faster. Please note that this story will be fast-paced. It will get straight into the action and there may be some chapters that heavily focuses on a certain character's POV. With that out of the way, read and enjoy.

P.S. Thank you to all reviews and interest in this story.

Diclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.

Warnings: A/U, Zombies, supernatural elements, NO to little romance, team-centered, other cannon character appearances, not edited, inspired by Stephen King, FAST-PACED, violent, action, deaths of characters and cursing.

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If the World Ended Today

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Summary:

Zombie fiction: Hotch stood immobile; his face was pale and sweat dripped down his chin. Beside him, Reid stared bug-eyed at the man with the graying hair. The man moaned and started to crawl forward, completely oblivious to his wounds.

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Part I

The First Beginning

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"Dear God…"

The crowd of people gathered around the BAU was astounding. It seemed half the population of Virginia decided to migrate there, staring and pointing with hundreds of fingers at the top of the building. David Rossi, having just arrived to work late that morning, hung in the back, wondering just what in God's name was going on.

He was about to start asking around – because dear God there really were so many people there that he was sure one of them knew the answer or at least, could provide an answer. Then he heard a scream, a terrifyingly loud scream that came from the roof of the BAU building itself and he only just had time to look up to see a figure run across the roof and think, 'Does he think he's a bird or something' before the figure took an impossibly long leap and for a moment, a cold hard moment, he seemed frozen in mid-air. It felt like a sci-fi movie come to life or the Matrix where there didn't seem to be any gravity and for just a split-second, Rossi thought the man would laugh and fly away like Super-man.

The spectators around him probably thought the same thing because when he let his eyes fall to the crowd for just that moment, they were all wide-eyed, mouths gaping. But then he heard that unmistakable sound, that sickeningly loud, piercing craaack like a skull had just split in two after making contact with something hard and his eyes snapped over to the body of the crazy, suicidal man, all dead bones on the pavement. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end and chills of goose bumps trailed all over his arms and legs as he took in the sight.

Shock coursed through the crowd and the murmurings turned to panic as the ugly reality registered to each individual watching. Someone in the middle started to shout something and Rossi could make out a shrill, "Is he dead? Is he really fucking dead?" He started to make his way through the paralyzed crowd, pushing past men and women and even children (dear God, didn't these kids have school?), staring at the body, – the unmoving, lifeless body, all the color drained from his face. He was moving closer and closer to it. "Someone check him out! Is he dead?" He could still hear that person shouting in the crowd and nobody, even though some were most likely annoyed with him, bothered to tell him to shut it because every one of them was curious, even if it was obvious – so obvious – that the person was dead.

Rossi was only an arm-length's away from it when the second wave hit.

It was slightly more controlled, more organized than the first suicide and when Rossi looked up, appalled, he was so sure that he could have talked those people out of it had they given him a fair chance but when the first one jumped and dropped like a brick, splattering blood, bones and hair all over the sidewalk just a few feet short of where he rested on his knees, he knew they were long gone – he saw it in their eyes that danced with craziness and insanity. Some people, like the first and second victims (both man and woman now that he had a closer look) could not be reasoned with – perhaps at one point, but they could not today, not now.

Then in the next moment, before Rossi could even move, the most surreal thing happened. More and more people came from the back of the roof and walked up to the edge, Rossi counted ten of them. They paired off in groups of two's, one man and one woman per pairing, taking each other's hands into their own and peering down at the people gathered. Nothing but determination in their eyes and Rossi was fooled to believe they were still sane, still able to be reasoned with.

He got up, almost mechanically and made his way to the crowd of silent, bewildered onlookers. He was sure that if he got out just the right words, he could save these ten individuals or at least he would try, he was goddamn try because that was what Rossi always did.

But before he could start to say anything, the front doors to the BAU slammed open and Rossi watched a grimacing Hotch lead his team toward the elder profiler. He found himself saying, instead, "Well it's about goddamn time you showed up. You missed quite an impressive show earlier."

Hotch shook his head, ignoring the sarcasm. "We saw everything on TV."

Rossi stared at him. "You…what? Then why the hell did it take you so long to show up?"

"Calm down, Rossi." Rossi snapped his head to Morgan. "We were trying to make a profile. It wouldn't have helped anyone to do it here."

Rossi scowled, "And?"

"We didn't come up with anything," Reid interjected, his voice quiet.

"So you guys just decided coming out here to tell me the bad news was going to help?"

Hotch looked at Rossi coolly and the elder profiler didn't miss that flash of fear in his narrowed brown eyes. He seemed to silently say, 'Give us time. Place your trust in the team. We're all scared here, Dave because this is different from what we normally face. So please act reasonable.'

Rossi did trust them and watching the fear in Hotch's eyes scared the living shit out of him because Hotch - Aaron - never got scared. "I trust your judgment, Aaron," he muttered and Hotch nodded approvingly.

His eyes turned dark as he looked up at the roof, the fear in his eyes vanishing. "We still don't know how they got on the building but if they're trying to give a message to the BAU itself…" Hotch's hands clenched tightly by his side. "I just hope we didn't attract a cult here."

"Same," Rossi nodded, grimacing as one of the men pretended to step off the building. "Why do you think they're gathered like that?"

Reid replied quickly, "Maybe they're waiting for someone, maybe their leader."

Prentiss winced. "I thought this wasn't a cult thing." She watched as the pairs in the center quickly stepped to the side, making room as someone started to stride up to the front. "I guess they do have someone," she muttered, half to herself.

When the man came into clear view, Hotch took note that he was bony, pale and perhaps if giving a rough estimate on his height, bordering six feet plus. Black, beady eyes stared down to the crowd, then glancing off to Hotch and his team. He seemed to take in the hundreds of people down below in one short glance.

The man then took a short bow, dark hair sweeping over his eyes as he did so. He looked back up after a moment, a feral grin curving his lips and in a voice heavily accented, said, "The night will come upon us when we will all fall into darkness, when man becomes extinct and something more thriving, more willing to survive takes the world into a new, golden age." Then the man stepped forward, one foot off the building, already swaying with the breeze. Hotch stared at him, fear clenching at his heart, threatening to overtake him. He wanted to reach out and shake the man to his senses. "Death will be waiting for us all soon."

Then with another bow, the man took the plunge, grinning like he was some spectacular actor making his grand exit off stage and his silent comrades followed him, pair-by-pair to death's wings. In later times, Hotch would think back on this moment as the first sign of all Hell breaking loose on earth.