(A/N): Hello there! Thanks to anyone who favorited (that's... not a word), followed and reviewed. It means a lot to me!
In the last chapter, I wrote a few paragraphs at the end that were a bit out of my writing style, more dark and descriptive, and I'm not sure how to follow up to that...
I had a harder time writing this since I was on a 'writing high' for the last chapter, and now it's on a low. This chapter isn't as well written as I wanted it to be, so apologies if it feels a bit weird.
Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds... unfortunately
Three years ago- In the Barn...
"Hello?" My head jerked up when I heard the whisper. "Is anyone there?" I crawled to the front of the cell.
"Who's there?" I croaked out. I heard shuffling coming from the shadows across the room. I squinted, trying to see, but the 'basement' was too dark.
"Did Sam bring you here?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"Yeah," I sighed. "How long have you been here?"
"A few months," she said plainly. I breathed in, shuddering. She heard me. "Don't worry, I'm not hurt. Sam hasn't done anything to me for a long time," she said, her voice dreamy as if she were going back to her first days.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
She didn't answer.
"How many more of us are there?" I finally said, breaking the silence.
"There's Josh," she answered vaguely. "He's a real good poet. He's supposed to be in the room you're in. I guess Sam took him to the shed."
"The shed?"
"The place where Sam puts his stuff." Suddenly, a gun fired. I jolted up, a flare of pain going through my back. But I ignored it, eye's wide. "In fact, that's Sam with him right now."
"What was that? D-Did he kill him?" I stuttered.
"No," she said as though that were a regular thing. "Sam never kills them until the end of the year."
"When?" I asked questionably. Something's not right here, I thought.
"December the twentieth."
Present-Markham Police Department...
JJ and Morgan were the first to arrive. The loud hum of busy police greeted them, as well as the one who was in charge of the case.
Detective Nancy Barrow: tall, lean, with vibrant copper hair tied into a bun. Moved quickly through the ranks, going from patrol to detective in two years. Top in the academy, graduated just out of high school.
Thank you Penelope for your profiles, Derek thought, smiling.
Holding herself high, Detective Barrow walked up to the two federal agents, a grim smile on her face. "Good morning, agents," she greeted.
"Detective Barrow, this is SSA Jennifer Jareau and I'm SSA Derek Morgan. We're here to interview the victim's family?" Morgan said.
"Of course, Nathan Carter and Taylor Nelson's parents are in already. Oliver Harper and Josh Wilder's are flying in. They should be here within the day."
"Thank you, detective," JJ said, and she and Morgan split off toward the rooms of the missing victims.
Marcy and Davis Carter's Room...
The couple sat on the couch, her head on his shoulder, unspoken thoughts flowing between them.
The dim room was silent, the loud cries and angry tears vanished. Just an hour ago, there were screams of anguish, and a shatter of glass when Marcy pushed a lamp. But all of this has passed, leaving behind a hushed silence between the two. They sat in the corner of the couch, snuggled together, the wounds that were opened that day being soothed by each other's presence.
In twenty-four hours, they had to identify their own son's body, feel his cold hands, seeing the gashes on his skin, staring at his calm, peaceful face. In twenty-four hours, they found out that their son, their Nathan, was dead.
"Mrs. and Mr. Carter?" they heard. Sitting up, they saw a woman peeking through the door. Davis nodded numbly, letting her come in. The lady sat on the chair across them, a grim smile on her face. "My name is Jennifer Jareau, I'm with the FBI," she said, softly. "I am very sorry for your loss, but I need to ask you some more questions if that's alright."
Marcy sniffed, shaking her head slightly. "We already told everything to the police." She looked down, hiding her tears. "Please, I just want to go home," she choked. Her husband hugged her in closer, rubbing her arm.
"I understand, Mrs. Carter. I couldn't try to imagine what you are going through, but this is important. There's another boy who has gone missing, and we think that he was abducted by the same person who took Nathan." She showed them a picture. "His name is Oliver Harper. Do you recognize him?" They looked at it but shook their head.
JJ sighed. "Ok, what about this." She showed a picture of Josh Wilder. Still no. A picture of Taylor Nelson. Another no.
Meeting Room- Markham Police Department...
Kate arrived seeing a frenzied Garcia rapidly typing on her on the computer alongside her trusty coffee mug. In front of the board was Reid, taping on a map and crime scene photos, along with pictures of the victims. Squinting at it decisively, he said, "Hey Garcia, got anything?"
Garcia huffed frustratingly. "We just got here a minute ago, chill."
"I'm not sure if Reid can 'chill', Garcia," Kate laughed, sitting next to Garcia. "So... You got anything?"
"Ugh!" Garcia groaned. Kate smiled and watched as Penelope continued her search. "Alright. Caucasian, age eighteen to twenty-four, male, blah blah, December 20. Bada bing, bada boom. And... got something. Nineteen-year-old kid diagnosed with leukemia on the twentieth, Mark Hamp-pshhhh... nope. That was only a year ago." She sighed. Her phone rang, and she picked her up. "'ello?" She paused, listening. "Nope, sorry boss, I'll keep looking." She hung up, continuing to type. "Hotch and Rossi are finished at the crime scene. They're coming our way."
Kate got up and walked over to Reid, who was pinning the abduction and dump sights on the map. "There seems to be no geographical similarities between the victims other than that they were all abducted in Markham and dumped along this," he pointed on the map, "trail. The abduction sights are random. Local library, restroom along the trail, empty parking space. Of course, this forms a triangle, but the dump sites aren't aligned to it in any way and I doubt that these would hold any meaning. The UNSUB might be organized, but there doesn't seem to be a meaning to the locations."
"And the victims don't seem to be connected in any way," Kate commented, looking at the pictures on the board. "Different schools, majors, religions, from different states. I got news from Morgan and JJ and they said that Carter's and Nelson's parents didn't recognize the other victims."
The two stared at the board, Reid's mumbles and Penelope's typing echoing in the background.
(A/N): Sorry it's a bit short. Review?
