Italics = flashbacks
They were in the Police Station looking over the profile, modifying it with the new information, to say it was taking a while was an understatement. With two thousand years worth of history, one would think it would be easy, but instead it made it harder, with many instances to collect information from. The team was feeling the strain, and Aaron was no exception. He desperately wanted to get out there, to search the manuel way, but logically he knew it was best to follow the profile, and he forced himself to focus.
"Hotch, if you know what he looks like, we could get a sketch artist in here, and circulate the image," suggested Morgan.
"No, that will only feed his ego. He wants recognition, and if we give it to him he'll become more ambitious, there's no telling how many he'll kill if that happens," replied Aaron, accepting a mug of coffee from JJ, knowing that he would need more than caffeine to get him through this day.
Waking up, the first thing he registered was the smell of earth. It was rich, and slowly it made its way into his consciousness, as awareness started to seep back. His body hurt, but nothing beat the pain in his neck and torso. It felt as if something had stabbed him, but the gods were known for sending realistic dreams to mortals. The pain would disappear as he awoke of that he was certain.
Snapping his eyes open, he first realised that it was dark. Automatically, he knew he was underneath something, and looking up, he saw that he was in a cave. The cavern was made of jagged rocks, they jutted out, as if they were teeth, and he were prey. Wondering how he got here, looked around and saw he saw an eye drawn on one of the walls, with the words 'You owe me,' scrawled beneath. It took a moment to realise that he shouldn't be able to see this at all.
Where was Haley? Where was Jack?
Now, panicking, he willed his mind to remember what had happened.
Ever since then, he regretted how hard he strove for that.
Closing his eyes, Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to block the stream of memories. People were dying now, it was no time to focus on the past, and yet it was as if a dam had broken, and he was helpless against the barrage.
The red eyes followed him, narrowing slightly as he neared. It hadn't taken him long this time.
He had learned, it appeared Foyet hadn't.
"My boy's all grown up," Foyet appraised him, but the steel in his voice was obvious, at least to him.
"You should try it some time," commented Hotch dryly.
After this no words had been exchanged, they had fought, and Foyet had retreated. Continuing on in a seemingly endless cycle, a cycle that he had let go on so long.
Once again he had failed, and each one weighed him down more than the last. It was a miracle he was still upright.
Blinking, Hotch returned to the present. Every now and then, one of the team would throw a concerned glance, and he inwardly rolled his eyes. After two thousand years he had never told his story, and this was why. Dave seemed to sense his discomfort, for he motioned his head, signalling for them to step outside.
"You okay?" asked Dave, closing the door of the conference room with a soft thud.
"I'm fine, it's just been a while since I've thought about... that day," confessed Aaron, running a weary hand through his hair.
"Repression isn't healthy, Aaron," chastised Dave, and Aaron glared at him.
"You're one to talk, you have more baggage than anyone else on this team," retorted Aaron.
"And that's exactly what my three ex-wives said, but still, my point is valid."
"I don't need a counsellor, Dave. I need to find Foyet," Aaron almost growled this, his eyes flashing red momentarily, before returning to their dark brown. To his credit, Dave never looked fazed, but he had pissed off many a vampire in his time, in fact, he never thought there was a species he hadn't offended.
"And that's clouding your vision. Take a step back, and think. How did you track him down before?"
"The anagrams helped me deduce his alias, and since I know what he looks like it was only a matter of time. However, his techniques have developed over the years as he keeps trying to thwart me. And this time, I don't think it will be as easy," Aaron cast his mind back over the times they had met. It was always at night, and they were always alone. But more recently Foyet had contacted him, taunting him, and giving clues of his whereabouts. It was only a matter of time until he did this, the letter had just been to shock him, and force him to confess to his team. No doubt Foyet wanted him to be alienated from them, the revelation that he knew who was attacking the vampire populace, but concealed it causing strains, and eventually breaking him.
"Reid can figure out the anagrams, I haven't seen a machine that sophisticated in a long time," Aaron chuckled at Dave's awe, "And he'll want to inject himself into the investigation, he's probably watching us now."
"He's monitored my progress in the past, it's one of the ways I've tracked him before. If we set up a tip line there is a high chance he'll contact it, and from there we can trace the call," Aaron thought out loud, and Dave nodded, mulling the idea over as well.
"If he's as organised as he normally is, he will either use a payphone or a disposable. However, if I can speak to him, I'm sure I can get him to release a few more details." added Aaron, feeling a slight prickle of annoyance when he realised it all depended on whether Foyet wanted to be caught.
"Breadcrumbs, let's just hope they lead us to him," commented Dave, moving back into the conference room, sighing deeply, Aaron followed.
"This type of unsub is classed as an omnivore. His victims don't form a pattern, and his unpredictability is what makes this type the hardest to catch," Morgan was leaning on one of the many desks littered about the room, and the officers assembled had their notebooks out, jotting down the pertinent details.
"He is entirely focused on the kill. He will spend years planning, and enact his kills quickly and efficiently. Very few can match a vampire in a struggle, and so we believe he too is a vampire. Outwardly he will be above thirty, most likely mid-forties," Emily added.
"He thrives on control and recognition. Because of this, he will want to know where we are in the investigation, and may return to the site of his kills. Look for anyone almost eager at the thought of the bloodshed, or hovering around the crime scenes" said Dave.
"Because of this we are going to set up a tip line. He will most likely call it, and ask for the Agent in charge. If this happens, inform us immediately," contributed JJ.
"The cooling off periods between his kills is decreasing. He has spent so long planning this, that he is almost frenzied in being able to finally act. This does not mean he has no control. Unlike other killers he will not de-evolve, he has done this before, with one registered case in Boston between1995-1998. This unsub is incredibly intelligent, and do not underestimate him," commented Reid, looking a little awkward in front of so many people.
"He has shown a preference for young women. Stabbing them multiple times as opposed to the men, who are disposed of quickly. This suggests impotence, and he could be in a position involving young women. Teachers, counsellors, coaches... Look at anyone placed on the sex offenders register for offences to teenage girls in the past ten years," said Hotch, his arms crossed as he surveyed the room stonily.
"Are their any questions?" asked Mitchell, looking over at his men, and getting no reply. "Take the assignments on your desks, and report your findings to either myself or the Agents."
Once the men had dispersed, Aaron walked over to the Police Chief. Mitchell was paler than normal, and it was evident he hadn't been sleeping well. The slightly dark tinge to his blue eyes told Aaron that he hadn't been feeding either.
"We'll try and narrow it down further," said Aaron, frowning slightly as the chief looked even more weary, "You shouldn't run yourself down. Take a few hours off, we won't catch him if we allow ourselves to burnout."
Mitchell looked grateful. "Thanks, I'll be back in a few hours."
"Hey, Hotch?" Aaron heard Emily coming up behind him, and turned reluctantly. It hadn't been strained between them since his confession, but the badgering was getting annoying.
"What is it, Prentiss?" he asked, half hoping she wasn't going to enquire about his wellbeing.
"I've gotten in touch with my contacts, and they're willing to help. They should be back to me by tonight," Emily's eyes were bright, and Aaron wished he felt some of her enthusiasm. All he felt was tired, and he desperately hoped the chase would end soon... As if it ever did...
"Tell Reid to come up with a list of anagrams from both The Reaper and George Foyet, and go around your contacts with them along with the profile. There's a high chance he's using one of them."
"Yes, Sir," replied Emily, and Aaron decided he didn't want to know much about her 'contacts'.
A/N: Thank you for the feedback! I'm sorry this is so late, I've been trying to finish some of my other fics as I'm moving out to go to university next week :/ Because of this I don't know when I'll have time to update, but once I'm settled I should start posting more regularly. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, if there are any mistakes regarding the profile please tell me - it's been a while since I've seen Omnivore, and whilst I'm not copying it, the information is close. I hope some of the flashbacks shedded more light on Hotch, and next chapter things will speed up quite a bit :) I'll try and have that up before I leave, and I would appreciate it if you review.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds :(
I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter.