Having Friends for Dinner
Leech:- I believe beauty can only truly be appreciated through taste. (American Cyborg)
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.
"Floyd? What are you doing?"
Spencer's voice in his ear.
"Spence. Just shut up."
"Get off me!"
"Shut up babes and let me do this." This was more like the Spence he loved to love. (and hurt)
"You – you, Floyd you are hurting me."
"I know Babes. That's the whole bleeding point of it isn't it? Now mouth is open – should be closed – unless I need it open. Understand?"
Big hazel eyes staring into his dark ones, no longer afraid like earlier. Now he just looked hurt.
"Stop looking at me like that!" Now Floyd was getting cross. The small amount of pleasure he had been getting from a sleeping Spencer had gone. Now the little freak was arguing with him and trying to make him feel bad about it. Wasn't going to work.
"Get off me Floyd – What is this place? - Hey that hurts!" And Spencer put his hands on Floyd's shoulders trying to push him away.
Now he was truly getting pissed off. "You are spoiling it all you little bastard! Why do you have to fight me on every damned thing I want to do?" So he just held him around the neck and in some kind of hazy dream watched Spencer struggle against him until he lay still. Floyd removed his hands and placed his head on Spencer's chest. "Good boy – now let me do this and you lay still for me."
……………….
They sat and watched on the monitors and grinned and nodded. "This is exactly what we expected." The tall skinny man turned to the guy in the lab coat. "How close are you to having the next stage prepared?"
He stepped forward. "It will be ready by tonight. One more thing I need to do, which I will do now, and then it will need to cool down a bit, though I doubt temperature will make a lot of difference."
"Wonderful." And a big yellow smile. "That will give him time to sort his mind out before we start again." He now turned to another guy in the room wearing a dark suit. "And do you thing Dr Reid will need medical attention?"
A slow shake of the head. "I don't think any of that treatment was new to Dr Reid. He will be fine. I will keep a record of how long he is out for this time. I am sure he won't be harmed by this. Too much."
A satisfied nod. "Well – I think I will take break." He got up and left the room
………………..
Floyd pulled away from Spencer and knelt on the floor next to him. "Any time you want to wake up now will be good." He looked back down to the ankle and smiled then crawled back to the corner he had been in to start with. He was satisfied with that side of his needs, but the rest still needed to be sorted. He might have lost a bit – just a tiny bit – hardly noticeable bit – of control there, but not so much that he would want to kill. He sat in the corner with his legs pulled up tightly to him and watched as Reid slowly became aware again.
Reid rolled over onto his side and looked across at Floyd. "You need to learn to ask."
"You were sleeping."
"I was unconscious."
"There is a difference?"
"A sizable difference. Sleeping is when .."
"You don't need to explain. I know."
A puzzled look on Reid's face. "What is this place? How did I get here?"
A shrug. "Don't know for both. We have been here a while though."
"We have?" He started to crawl towards Floyd.
"Stop. Don't come over here."
Reid stopped. "What's wrong?"
"I just don't want you getting too close." Fists clenching and unclenching.
Spencer looked at Floyd's face and at his hands and at the way his eyes were looking at him, and the way his mouth was set, and it sent shivers up his spine. Slowly he moved back to his corner.
It felt like an eternity that they sat in silence looking at each other. Floyd heard the door locks slide back and was on his feet. Reid span, still not able to stand and looked over at the door. Five large muscular men walked in. One of them was holding a clear plastic bag. Floyd could see his smokes and a pack of matches. The man held it up for Floyd to see.
"Dr Reid will come with us. Get up." A voice from the rear.
"He's not going anywhere. Spence don't move."
Reid tried to make himself blend into the wall behind him.
"Dr Reid get over here now!"
"Spence don't you move." Floyd was looking between the bag and Reid and back again. This was some kind of trick. They were offering him his smokes in exchange for Reid. "This wont work. You can't have him." He watched now as someone walked over to Reid and grabbed him by a wrist and started to drag him. His was also watching the man pull out one of his smokes and begin to roll it about in his fingers. Flanders could smell it. He could see it, and now he could hear Spencer shouting out.
"Get off me!"
He moved fast and grabbed Reid by his healthy ankle and started to pull him out of the grip of the UnSub. "Leave him alone you sons of bitches. What's he done to you?" And he watched as his smoke was crumbled into tiny bits and replaced into the bag. "What do you bastards want?!" He heard Reid again.
"Floyd let go of me."
He closed his eyes and looked at Spencer. A shotgun was being held to his head.
"Good. Now you understand do you Mr Franks. Let go of Dr Reid and move back." He released his ankle and sat back on his haunches.
"We are going to give you a little something to calm you down, and then you can have your buddy back again. Until then you will stay still and let us do what we came in here to do."
He watched the gun pressing down onto the back of Reid's head and Floyd sighed. "Very well. Just let him go."
White lab coat man walked forwards. "A special thing just for you Mr Franks."
"Flanders, my name is Flanders."
"Irrelevant. Arm please? Or in the neck again?"
Ignored. He watched the man walk towards him with a needle ready to stick in him.
"Spence – just do what they ask." He felt the pricking in the side of his neck and out of bleary eyes he saw them drag a wriggling Spence from the room as he slowly slid sideways to the floor again.
…………………..
Reid was taken to a room very much like the one he had just been dragged from. They gave him a bottle of water and some bread soaked in sugary milk.
"What – what did you do to him?"
"You just worry about yourself." The door was slammed and he was left in the room.
He sat and looked at the water. Water he would need, the other stuff he wouldn't, so he pushed it to the side and picked up the bottled water. He shook it to see if there were puncture holes in it anywhere and then carefully opened the top. It made a slight hiss and the seal was broken. The water was cold and wonderful in his mouth. He sipped it slowly holding the bottle with one hand and feeling the bruises on his neck with the other.
…………………
His head span in a familiar way. He lay on his back and watched the patterns rolling across the ceiling. He thought he might even want to sing to them, sometimes if you sing they move in time. The song he started to sing was out of tune and strange. Almost otherworldly in the effect it had to the dancing moving patterns. He curled and uncurled his toes and dribbled for a short while until the patterns moved off out of the wall. Curious. Floyd stood and walked to the wall and stood looking at it, willing the colours to return.
When the door opened in slow motion and someone entered the room he thought maybe he was flying at first and then – silly him – it was the floor – the room was falling sideways. He watched the person fall to the floor and he saw a strange redness ooze from around the head.
Oh good. Dinner at last. He had to crawl. The floor was still too tilted to be able to stand and when he did try to get up he fell over backwards. Crawling hands and knees. Digging fingers into the slightly soft flooring. (Cant smash brains out on this stuff you know.)
He reached out for the person laying on the floor. Everything had gone foggy and strange. He was still moving in slow motion and the room was tilting further. For a small while the floor became too soft to hold onto and he slid sideways towards the door, but using great powers of strength (this made him giggle) he clawed his way towards the person laying there in white pyjama bottoms. He moved his fingers over the back of this person and then up to the neck. Floyd noticed that the ends of his fingers were bleeding, probably from having to hang onto the floor like this. A pulse. Good he needed a pulse.
Floyd grabbed the arm and sniffed his way down to the wrist. "I am so hungry."
It was pretty tame really. He bit into the white flesh and drank. The person he was using to quench his thirst twitched a couple of times but never really put up a fight. He was never awake enough to do that.
…………………….
They watch Floyd hallucinating and moaning and trying to stand and falling. They listened to the strange song he sung and the careful way he approached his food.
They were surprised and a little disappointed in the manner he took the person's life. He had been gentle and he caressed the corpse as he fed. It was the next bit they had not expected. After such loving careful care, he crouched down next to his person and slowly with his bare hands skinned him. He left the face in tact but the rest he stripped. He took the scalp, he bit off the fingers, he looked around the room frustrated and kept going back to the head. He removed internal organs. Setting some aside, and caressing and talking to others.
……………………
Floyd looked down at the mess he had made and smiled. He slowly moved back away from it, taking with him the fingers and a few other select pieces and huddled in his corner singing again.
Jules:- Oh man, I will never forgive yo ass for this. This is some fucked-up, repugnant shit. (pulp fiction)
A/N: OK that went a big strange.
