Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters. This is for my entertainment purposes.
*Note*Some quotes/scenes from 'Revelations'
Chapter 3
Spencer woke to a pounding headache, and the blurred outline of a muted lightbulb swinging above his head. Am I dreaming? Please tell me this is a nightmare. He thought anxiously rubbing his eyes, or at least attempting to. No, not again. Law enforcement grade handcuffs encircled his wrists, the links strapped down by a leather belt; effectively restricting his range of motion. He pulled frantically on the restraints, desperate to find a weakness he could exploit, while his eyes surveyed the scene before him. He sat barefoot in the middle of a small rundown shack, the only other furnishing was a small iron stove in the back corner. A pungent aroma wafted through the area, burning flesh and a salty blood; transporting him back to a time when he was still green to fieldwork, still naïve at heart.
"They're gone now." An avenging angel towered over him.
"Who're they?" He asked timidly.
"It's just me now."
His voice cracked. "Who, who are you?"
"I'm Raphael."
"No, no! I'm not a sinner." He shouted trapped in the memory.
"Confess your sins Spencer Reid." A log slammed into his foot sending waves of pain throughout his leg.
"No, stop! Please!" his heart rate escalated as he tried to pull himself out of the memory his current predicament had placed him in.
The barrel rolled like dice as a voice whispered, "Choose."
"Kill me."
"You said you weren't one of them."
Mom, I'm sorry. I wish I could say goodbye. "I lied." The gun clicked but no bullet came out.
"Your team has six other members. Tell me who dies."
"No." Another click, but no death.
"Choose, and prove you'll do god's will."
"No." His luck was running out.
"Choose."
"I won't do it." "I won't do it!"
The sudden slamming of a door freed him from his memory. A man stood before him, but it was not Tobias, his father, or Raphael; he was not back in Georgia. The man was shorter than Tobias and more stockily built, his meaty hands covered by leather gloves. He stood in the shadows so Reid could not determine his race or any defining features; except for his eyes. His eyes gleamed with the light of a madman, a man who enjoyed the cruelty he inflicted on others. "Hello Spencer." He said, sending chills down Reid's spine.
"It's Dr. Reid or Supervisory Special Agent Reid." Reid snapped back. His heart was still pounding at an abnormally fast rate, but he refused to be the same scared little boy he had been in Georgia.
His captor chuckled, as if amused by his tenacity. "Why be so formal when we're going to have so much fun together?"
"Are you high?" Reid asked incredulously.
"No Spencer, but give me some time, and I promise that I'll put you right back into that nice little opiate-aided oasis you were swimming in about three and a half years ago."
"No you won't," Reid muttered.
"Really?" the man asked, "and why is that?"
"You're a narcissistic sadist who gets off on the amount of pain he can inflict on others. Pumping me full of pain medication wouldn't do anything for you because it would put me until a bliss I can only dream about. You might think that I have a fear of getting addicted again, but you couldn't grant me a better favor. The only reason I stopped was because of how close my supervisor was to uncovering the truth and firing me." He bluffed.
"That's interesting Spencer, tell me more."
"You call me by my given name instead of by my title or surname because you want to assert your dominance over me. For you, names have power and you believe the condescending manner you're using mine in will give you control. Another example of your lust for control and dominance is the fact that you positioned me in a manner like one of the worst experiences of my life. You knew that it would further unsettle me, especially after I watched my girlfriend die protecting me."
"Trying and failing to protect you." His captor interrupted.
"You wanted to gauge my reaction," Reid continued as though he hadn't heard the man speak. "You wanted to see how well your twisted little experiment affected me. If the data was as good as what you'd read. And yes, I know that you read the case file because only those with my level of clearance or higher know about this case. From this I can deduce that you work in the FBI, most likely in one of the higher positions of power. Although you and I have never met, you've run into me and formed some delusion that Agent Seaver and I wronged you. I say that we were both the targets, though I was probably your primary goal, because you specifically waited until she was with me. You wanted her to be there when you took me so you could inflict the maximum amount of pain possible on the both of us. My guess is you've been dirty for a long time, and one of the cases we worked on was close to exposing you. Too close. So you needed to silence us. The funny thing is, we might not have connected the dots, but my team definitely will."
"That's an interesting theory Spencer." The man's condescending manner betrayed little irritation, as if Reid were a mere schoolboy trying to one up the professor.
"It's my training as a profiler for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, as well as my degrees in the psychology and sociology fields." Reid retorted.
"You didn't answer my question though."
"You won't drug me because it will release me from the pain you're about to inflict. And you want to watch me squirm while you inflict it, to create as much damage possible."
His captor shoved a thin black object forward, a camera.
"Let's test that theory." He said.