Hey I'm sorry about the spelling mistake (I seriously can't spell to save my life) and I really should have looked up Minnesota weather more, I'm from Texas, so frost is my snow , and we don't get any untill like February:P but I'll make sure things are more accurate this time. Oh, and im sorry for not putting Rossi in my story, I wasn't sure that I could portray his personality correctly, if ya'll know what I mean :/ But thank you everyone that reviwed! I really appreciate it :D ( sorry this update was kinda late :S )

Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds, or any of their characters.

Chapter 3

"Garcia, I need you to look up all the males in the county of St. Louis, Minnesota, with the initials RG, between the ages of 29-40. Also look up convicted murderers, and past killings in the area." Hotch said to the projection screen, with Penelope's image on it.

"Got it, the men with inictials RG, within the age range, are: Ralph Garrison, Randy Galloway, Ryan Gray, Ray Goffer, Reagan Gilbert, and Richard Gibson," Garcia replied, "All of which have a criminal record. I'm sending you their criminal backgrounds, along with a physical description and picture. I also did a little extar credit work, and looked at the surveillance cameras arround the building."

Morgan stepped out to retrieve the papers Garcia was faxing over.

"What did you find on the camera's? Prentiss curiously asked.

"Well I found out that our unsub is a white male, he's the one that held the door you guys when you first arrived at the police station. He has dark hair, but other than that, he kept his face out of sight from the cameras. But the good news is that I was able to narrow the list down by half, leaving us with three guys: Randy Galloway, Ryan Gray, and Richard Gibson."

"He held the door for us," Hotch stated, talking to himself more than Garcia. "He was polite, he can blend in and stay overlooked by people." Hotch was angered by his inability to remember them man's face.

Garcia pulled up the surveillance camera recordings and fast forewarded to 2:15p.m. All the agents felt their hearstrings being pulled when they saw Reid accepting help from the stranger that was going to soon turn on him.

JJ averted her eyes when the attack began, she could not watch the man hurt Reid. Prentiss lowered her gaze, she hated to see Reid's innocence being taken advantage of; he never though bad of anyone, unless proven wrong.

Hotch spoke first, breaking the silence.

"In the letter he adressed to us he talks highly of himself, saying things like 'try to find me, humor yourselves,' he thinks that he can't be caught. Our unsub is a narcissistic psychopath. He wants to hear about his murders, and will be watching the progress of this case. He'll be reading the local papers, and watching the news. He wants people to know and fear him, he wants to be in control, and we need to let him believe he is."

JJ stood up when Morgan walked back into the conference room, and placed the pictures of the first three murder victims on the whiteboard, hanging on the wall. The pictures had the names and ages of the deceased victims.

"Hotch all the women have blond hair and green eyes. The men have black hair and eyes a shade of gray," Prentiss stated.

"Maybe he's choosing people with these physical characteristics, because they are of offence to him. Like a past girl that rejected him, and the man that got the girl." Morgan affirmed.

"It's a possibility." Hotch responded.

"All of the girl victims have the same initials, AS: Anna Saxon, Arianna Santos, Alyssa Salazar. While the men have the initials DS, Dalton Sandry and Dean Sanders ," Prentiss added. "That could be another connection."

"Garcia look up where the victims lived, and where they were found." Hotch said.

"On it." She replied, then disconnected her image from the room.

A police officer walked into the room, his expression grim.

"We have another victim," The police officer declared.

The agents piled into one SUV, and headed to the crime scene. Morgan cranked up the heat as high as it could go, getting frustrated that the air still blew cold for about five minutes.

"Morgan you're going to break the car, if you don't stop trying to turn the heat nob any further," JJ said.

"Well I don't like sitting in a refrigerator, so im going to keep twisting this nob until I get my heat!" Morgan shouted with a sarcastic tone.

The team arrived at the crime scene at 6:30 p.m., and the temperature was well below freezing. The rain that had been falling hours eariler, had lightened up and had turned into light snow flurries, but according to the police officers the weather was only going to intensify.

The crime scene was located behind a housing subdivision. The woman, April Stanton, had been shot in her heart, and had a note pinned to her jacket, that included more than just her name, age, and the time of death. She had obviously been dumpped in this location, there was a vast lack of blood.

Hotch unpinned the note and read:

"April Stanton, 29, 3:27 p.m. –

My actions Do seem to belittle your hopes of finding Dr. Reid alive. Never the less, he is Unmistakably Living, but his well-being is another story. I warn you now, do not Underestimate me. I Tell you at this time I Have, and will always be in control.

-RG

P.S. Did you pick up on the fact that I wrote this note in Spencer's blood?"

Hotch's face went pale, and his body was rigid as he read the postscript question. Morgan picked up on Hotch's body language, and walked over to him. Hotch handed the letter to Morgan, who had a deadly scowl carved deep into his face the whole time he was reading.

"Shit." Morgan mumbled. This was happening to Reid because he made him get the files out of the trunk.

I just couldn't have stayed and helped him? Morgan thought.

Hotch noticed Morgan's silence.

"This isn't your fault, Morgan, so stop beating yourself up."

"Hotch you really think that just because you say that, I'm going to believe it?"

Ryan unchained Reid, and dragged him across the basement floor.

"Ready to get those wounds fixed?" Ryan asked in a wicked tone.

Reid didn't want Ryan to 'fix' anything. If Ryan's idea of fun was attacking somebody with a knife, then Reid didn't want to find out how he fixed things.

"Stop," Reid tried to say, when Ryan tied a strip of cloth right above the wound on his left thigh, but his words weren't acknowledged.

"I can't have you die just yet, we were just getting to know eachother. And we were having lots of fun." Ryan said with a menacing tone.

Reid groaned when the pressure of the tourniquet was applied.

"Now that I have stopped the blood flow, we can get to the fun part."

Ryan left the room, but Reid's gaze followed him, his brain trying to think of what Ryan ment by the fun part. Everytime Reid tried to move he got lightheaded, eventhough he was sitting on the floor. The sound of Ryan's boots could be heard echoing, and coming closer. Reid thought he was going to be sick just at the thought of Ryan returning.

When Ryan came into the room, he had a bottle of clear liquid in his hand. Reid didn't think much about it until Ryan opened it and he smelled rubbing alcohol. Ryan came close to Reid, and Ried tried to scoot away, but Ryan kicked his injured leg, causing Reid to yell with pain.

"Don't worry this is going to be a lot of fun, Spencer."

Reid didn't like hearing Ryan say his name , he said it with such malevolence, and hate, it made Reid feel sick to his stomach. He wondered how people grew up to be that way.

Ryan then poured the alcohol on both of Reid's injuries. Waves of searing pain swept throughout his body, making Reid's breathing become more and more labored.

Ryan then left the room again. Reid had tears streaming down his cheeks, and didn't notice when Ryan came back. Reid suddenly felt himself being pushed down, he tried to fight against the hands on his sholders, but Ryan was much stronger.

Ryan rolled Ried's shirt up, exposing his wound, where the knife had pierced his skin. Reid flinched when Ryan raised his hand, but it was just to pick up a small metal pole that he heated over an open flame.

Reid's eyes grew twice in size when he saw the red-hot metal, coming closer to his injured flesh.

"N..no, please…you don't have to do this," Reid said with terror in his voice. Reid didn't have to blink for his tears to fall.

Ryan ignored Reid's pleas to stop, and brough the heated metal down on Reid's abdomen, cauterizing Reid's flesh anyway. Reid screamed , and thrashed around, trying to find some type of escape from the burning metal. But there was no escape, Ryan held Reid down, and prevented him from moving.

Ryan stood up to get the second metal pole, to 'fix' Reid's leg. Reid's tears were uncontrollable, and his pain was unbearable. When Ryan grasped Reid's leg to pull him closer, Reid instinctively kicked Ryan in the chest.

Ryan stumbled back, surprised by the blow he'd recived to his chest; anger filled his body.

"I…I didn't mean to," Reid said stumbling on his words, "Reflexes are involuntary a…and nearly instantaneous movements that are n…nearly impossible to stop." Reid's red eyes looked up at Ryan, hoping that he understood.

Ryan didn't speak any words, instead he grabbed Reids leg, cauterizing it just as he had done to his abdomen. Reid yelled, and pleaded for Ryan to stop, but Ryan just smiled and held down the burning pole for longer than he needed to, harming Reid's leg more than helping.

Reid's pain and fear were overwhelming, he was beginning to see black dots everywhere. He tried to blink them away, but with each blink he made the dots grew bigger in size, and darker in color.

As Reid whimpered on the ground, wishing that the pain would disappear, he hear Ryan speak for the first time since he had been kicked in the chest.

"I control everything. I control weather you live," Ryan sighed deeply, "or you die. I can not be beaten, I always win in the end." Ryan said, as he glared at Reid with hatred.

With that being said Ryan placed Reid's hands back into the shackles, and left him alone, whimpering in the cold and dark of the basement. He had other work to attend to.