Chapter II

I have no idea where I am. Was the thought running through my head. I opened my eyes and was greeted by an even dark place then the one I had just been in. I moved slightly, finding my hands bound together by a thick rope. My heart jumped into a higher gear. I could feel something cold and hard under my back. At least now I knew I was facing up. I could breathe freely, I didn't have a gag and I was not blind folded.

"Hello Participant." Boomed a voice. That voice sounded so familiar. The intensity of his voice and the feedback from the unseen speakers caused my head to hurt. I covered my ears to protect them against the squeal.

"I choose you to take part in my little game." Now I was really scared.

"I have injected you with a deadly virus. One that can be neutralized, but only with the anti-virus." I felt panic bubbling deep inside me. "You are in a 150 square foot building. The anti-virus is hidden through out this building. Find it and inject yourself and you get to live. Don't and you die." There was a evil chuckle. I was able to calm down long enough to see a red flashing light. A camera no doubt. Sick fuck. He was recording this. I did the best thing that came to find. I extended my middle finger and pointed it in the general direction of the camera.

"Now, now…. Where are your manners?" Night vision.

"What did I do to you?" I heard my voice and realized it was not actually mine. I became very confused. There was a tusking sound.

"You are wasting time love. Everything you need is somewhere in this building. All you have to do is find it." There was a loud click, like he had hung up the microphone. I slowly got up, feeling the rush of blood to my head and promptly fell over. Something metal slid across the floor and me. I reach frantically for it. A knife? I used the knife to cut the rope off my hands, cutting myself a few times in the process. I could feel the warmth of the blood running down my arms. I grimaced in pain and slowly stood, feeling my way across the walls. I found a door and slowly opened it, stepping back. I had seen the SAW trilogy. Maybe this guys was some kind of freaky fan of Jigsaw. That thought chilled my to the bones. Once the door had swung open there was this foul stench. I covered my nose and mouth. I felt along the wall for a light switch. Once I found it I flicked it on and immediately wished I hadn't. The room was filled with rotting corpses. I let out a startled scream and stumbled backward. I scrambled to close the door. Then I saw it. A syringe, dangling back a string above the dead center of the room. No pun intended. I studied the room and found hand and foot holds all the way around. What the hell was this guy up to? I put the knife in my back pocket and slowly began to make my way toward the syringe. Slowly but surely I went up and to the side, then up again. I could feel the virus beginning to take a hold of my system. I climbed at least once a day to de-stress from work, so this should have been easy for me. But I knew all too well what happens when a virus is introduced into your system. I reached the string and pulled it too me. My whole body had begun to shake with effort as I hung upside down from the ceiling. I grabbed the syringe and placed it gently in my mouth. I was in no shape to inject myself right there. So I made my way across the remaining ceiling and down the wall to the door. Once my feet were solidly on the ground I use my belt to tie off my arm and produced a plump vein in my arm. I pushed the needle through the skin, feeling the slight sting and then into the vein. I depressed the plunger and removed the belt. It was like liquid ice water running through my veins. Before I could react, everything went dark. I froze, sensing my surroundings. I was still standing. I could still smell the corpuses. What the hell had happened? I should have known it was going to be too easy.

"Congratulations." Came a voice from behind me. I felt someone seize my arms and pull me roughly against them.

"You will not die from the virus." His voice was rough and he was gripping me so hard I was beginning to bruise.

"But by now, I am sure you noticed something else. Something more …. sexual in that serum you injected yourself with." I gulped. He was right. Just the feeling of being so close to him was making my blood run hot.

"Wha…" was all I could get out before he ran a hand over my stomach.

"Ecstasy." He whispered. "It heightens all things." The panic was back the moment I felt it. Cold steel running down my arm. I struggled to cry out, but his hand clasped over my throat and all that came out was a strangled moan. He shoved my roughly to the ground and forced himself on top of me. I felt his cutting away the scrubs I had been wearing. Exposing me.

"I am going to enjoy this." Then he shoved himself inside me. I cried out in pain and continued to scream as he began to cut at my flesh. I clawed and fought as much as I could, the ecstasy was giving everything he did exaggerated sensations. I could feel everything. The blade cutting at me, the feel of racking at him with my fingers, the warmth of my own blood, the cold floor and the feeling of him… of him plunging into me. It felt like sand paper rubbing inside me. I knew then that I was going to die. I began to fight harder, to no avail. He reached down with on of his hands and began to rub my clit. I stopped moving. That felt too good for words. My mind screamed at me, this is not good, he is killing me. But it felt good. He continued his movements until I cam. There was no sound, just intense spasms that took over my body. But he never stopped moving, not once. He had stopped cutting me, I knew that much and the blinding pleasure subsided. There was something new, something that I didn't want to think about. His hands around my neck, cutting off my air flow. I felt my lungs cry for air, I began to struggle again.

"That's it love, squirm for me." He hissed.

I shot straight out of bed screaming. I was drenched in a cold sweat. Sam rushed out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. He reached for me and recoiled in shock when I slashed at him with my nails in blind terror.

"Jay?" his voice was full of concern. I paused and took a moment to assess where I was. Hotel room, Sam in a towel, FBI ID's on the nightstand, business suites hanging up. Right. I put my hands down and Sam took me him his arms. I wrapped my arms around him and held him against me. I need the reassurance that this was real. I could feel his muscles flew defensively, gripping me tighter. I could feel the water dripping from his hair on to me. This was real.

"What was that?" he asked, I knew I felt clammy. There was no doubt.

"Let's get in the shower and I will explain it to both of you over breakfast." Sam nodded and we got into the warm shower. But I still felt cold.

Dean and Sam sat across the table from me, just looking in disbelief. I had just finished explaining to them what I had seen. The guys looked down at the mostly eaten breakfast and pushed the plates away. No sooner had I finished telling them did our pages go off. The LVPD had given us pagers. I dialed to number and got Morgan.

"We'll be right there." I stood up putting money on the table. Sam and Dean stood up looking at me.

"They found another one." We locked and loaded and were off to meet the Detectives in the suburbs.

The entire street was blocked off. We got out of the Impala and walked up to the line, signed in and walked through the perimeter. The Detectives were waiting for us.

"We didn't let anyone touch the scene. We wanted you to see it first." Morgan said. I nodded in thanks.

"Camera please." I said to the CSI's waiting around. I was handed a camera. I put on gloves and began to work. It had been a while since I had done this for the FBI but it was basic muscle memory. Everyone gave me my space, thankfully. I could feel Dean and Sam watching me with curious eyes. They knew that I had worked for the FBI before Jacob was killed. But that was all they knew. They didn't know what I did exactly. I sighed and touched the forehead of the victim and saw a brief flash of the dream I had last night.

"She was nurse." I said. Everyone looked at me.

"How can you tell?" Patrick asked. I grabbed a pair of tweezers from the CSI kit that had been set next to me and pulled out a piece of shredded cloth. I showed it to him. He still looked confused.

"Light green. Trauma nurse scrubs." I said, placing the evidence into a bag. I sealed it, initialed it, dated it and put the time.

"Clean it up and run fiber analysis." I had avoided actually looking at the women's face. But now I had too. It was frozen in terror, pain and pleasure. This woman had died in one of the worst ways. Whoever this guy was, he thrived on pain. By causing it or watching it. He was the kind of guy who would watch snuff films and get off on it. I paused for a moment and looked over the body.

"I need you to roll this over." I looked at the coroner. He nodded and knelt down close to the body and pulled it toward him. I shook my head in disbelief. I took the camera and took a picture of it. I handed the camera back to the CSI who had given it to me. I stripped off the gloves and threw them away. I couldn't take any more. I had seen many ugly things in my life, but this was just sick. I motioned for the CSI team to take over.

"What was it?" Morgan asked.

"It said, 'Let's Play a Game'." I said, using the sanitize in my pocket. I rubbed my hands together and turned around to watch the CSI's work like busy little bees.

"Let's Play a Game?" Asked Dean. I nodded.

"He is creating his own little game show." I said, not taking my eyes off the CSI's.

"I would be willing to bet that where ever this takes place, he records it. Then he will watch it over and over and over, reliving the thrill." Sam shook his head.

"He takes these people and puts them into his world, leaving them defenseless. I will meet with coroner for the autopsy, if you don't mind me stand in." I looked at Patrick and Morgan.

"I will be in there with you since I am the lead investigator." Morgan said. I nodded, watching the body being loaded on to a gurney in a body bag.

"Well, let's leave the processing to the team." Patrick ushered us out. We all met up at the department later. The body was in prep and while we waited I entered the commonalties into the computer. It was disgusting that another human could do this to another human. I had seen gruesome scenes in my short time with the FBI, put this was the worst. Ash said it had looked demonic, but the more I found, the more it looked like your run of the mill signature killer. Which was dangerous enough without the demon boost. Sam handed me a cup of tea and placed his hand on the back of my neck as we watched the computer run through the crime data bases.

"Scully?" Morgan poked his head in the door. I turned around.

"Coroner is ready." I nodded and handed the tea back to Sam.

"I'll be back. You don't want to see this." I squeezed Sam's hand and walked out. Once we were out of ear shot Morgan looked at me.

"You two?" he asked, motioning back in the general direction of Sam. I nodded.

"Dangerous, isn't it?" He inquired.

"You have no idea." I said, a slight smile on my lips.

"Then why?" He watched me carefully. I sighed.

"One can not help who the heart longs for." He nodded, something told me he understood. We arrived in the autopsy room. The body had been cleaned of all the dried blood. All the gashes and wounds were now like red ribbons across marble. I sighed and put on gloves.

"May I?" I asked the doctor, he looked at me, slightly impressed. I grabbed the camera and began to work. First the torso.

"These were made while she was pinned down by some weight greater than her own." The two men just watched me.

"How do you know?" The Doctor asked. I looked up.

"No defensive wounds." I stated.

"What about these?" Morgan asked, pointing to the small gashes along her wrists. I took pictures and explained.

"She was bound by a thick rope, note the bruising." I said, tracing a finger along the bruises. "The cuts are from her trying to remove the bonds with little to no light or visibility." I paused, taking a picture of her hands.

"These marks are from clinging to something." I motioned to the small scratches on the tips of her fingers.

"Rocks or something of that nature." I said. I paused, that was scary.

"No fingernails, freshly trimmed." I said, taking out my notes that I had already written down.

"What does that mean?" Morgan asked.

"It means that after he abducted her and sedated her, he clipped and filed down her nails. He knew all along what he was going to do to her. Any women, no matter how weak, would be clawing like a wild cat if they were being cut and raped. He doesn't want to give you anything but they bodies." I said, looking at Morgan.

"That would explain the vaginal swabs." I looked at the Doctor. "Negative for any human fluids." I sighed.

"Let me guess, bleach?" I asked, the Doctor nodded. "Any particular kind?" He shook his head.

"Generic." Damn, dead end. "Sodium Hypoclorite. More specifically Chlorine Dioxide." He paused, waiting to see if I was going to say anything.

"Specifically used for bleaching organic matters." I nodded jotting down notes.

"The rape was incredibly violent." Doctor went on. "It seems that she was still alive when he washed her out." I cringed. Ouch.

"The lacerations in the vaginal cavity were indicative of the violence. I found fragments of foreign substances in the lacerations as well." Morgan's set his jaw in a tight line. I knew that look. That was the same look that all guys got when any member of the female sex was injured, kidnapped or killed. That was the look of 'I am going to kill the bastard'.

"Like what?" I asked, not really wanting to know. The good Doctor swallow thickly.

"Like broken glass, splinters and some of the lacerations were so smooth, they had to have been from a sharpened object. Like a knife or something similar." Morgan stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I sighed, this is going to be a hard case to deal with. Considering the fact that I was the only female working on the case.

"What about the multiple bruises?" I asked, pointing to the bruising on her sternum and neck.

"He … uh…" The doctor wiped sweat from his brow. "He strangled her, preformed CPR to bring her back." I froze, staring at the doctor.

"He would kill her while he raped her, then bring her back to rape her again." The doctor explained. He shuddered and turned away from me. I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"If this is bothering you, I can stop and read your report." I said to the doctor. He nodded.

"It is slightly awkward speaking in these terms with a female, considering…" he glanced down at our Jane Doe. I nodded.

"I have my pager if you find anything interesting." I left the room and found Morgan leaning against a doorway not far from the room.

"I'm sorry." He said. "That was very unprofessional." I nodded, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I am not offended." I reassured him.

"I am sure you don't see this kind of stuff all the time." He nodded.

"You do?" He asked, fighting the emotions that were dancing on his face.

"More than I'd like." I said, sighing.

"I don't envy you." He said.

"If you did, I would be worried." We laughed and headed into the conference room where we would share all the information we had found individually. I walked in a found folders waiting for me and a pad of paper. I walked in and we began the sharing process.

"I got squat." Dean said first. "No one saw anything or they are not wanting to share." He said, plopping down. I could hear the grumbling thought running through his mind. I hate leg work! I smirked and turned my attention to Patrick.

"I got the same thing. The scrubs are generic and are use by 15 different hospitals. I am having patrol officers check missing persons, but so far I got nothing." Patrick was also in a slum. I turned my attention to Sam.

"I got a lot of something's." He said. Debating how much he was going to reveal to the Detectives.

"The data base kicked out at least a dozen crimes matching this description." I looked at him calmly, waiting for his to continue.

"They stretch back over that past 50 years." My eyes went wide.

"The first killings happened in the 1950's. The guy was killed in police action." Sam said, looking me square in the eye.

"So what?" Morgan started. "We got ourselves a copy cat?" I shook my head slightly at Sam, he understood. We had to keep the possible possession part to ourselves. Morgan and Patrick had been through enough, adding a spirit might be too much.

"Looks like." Sam said.

"Great." Morgan said, rubbing his temples. "Let's break here. I have had enough for the day. We are all on call, so if the coroner or the CSI team finds anything of interest they will page all of us." Morgan walked out of the room without another word. I had no doubt that he was heading home to his wife and child. Patrick and Dean headed out to a bar, which left me and Sam to figure the rest of it out. We headed back to the Palace and up to our room. Sam pulled out his laptop and began researching our first killer. William Burdos.

Four hours later, we had the basics. William Burdos was an extremely wealthy, well educated young man in the 50's. His father had been a tycoon of sort in the oil industry. He was a bachelor and loved the life. There were pictures of him at parties, out to dinner with multiple beautiful young women. It seemed like he didn't have a private life. Then his father died and everything changed. Burdos disappeared. He was no longer a high roller. He bought a warehouse in the outskirts of Las Vegas, miles away from any kind of civilization. He spent most of his time and a fair amount of his money investing in the building. Then one-by-one, the women he had been seeing while his father was alive began to disappear. At first, when their bodies were found, it was just rape/murder. But, slowly the violence escalated. Burdos was suspected the whole time but there was nothing concrete linking him to the victims. Only the fact that they had all once dated him. The police set up a sting and he got caught in the trap. He was gunned down while trying to claim his 34th victim. His body was burned and cast to a southern wind, per request of his surviving family. The last victim he had been trying to take ended up pregnant with his child. So he had a lineage. The killings started up again 20 years later. Then 15, then 10. Each killer with the last name Burdos. Coincidence? I don't believe in them. I took a deep breath and ran my hands through my hair.

"I am going for a swim." I told Sam. I needed to work out some of the stress and swimming seemed to be the best way of doing it. Sam nodded and continued to work. I walked out of the bathroom in my suit and found Sam still hunched over his laptop. I squeezed his shoulders and leaned down, engulfing him in a full body hug.

"You should considered giving it a rest for a little bit." I said, hugging him tighter. He sighed and reached around to run his hand up my smooth leg.

"The hot tub is a particularly nice." I smacked Sam's stomach playfully and grabbed a towel.