Dolls and Diseases

There's an awful lot of blood around that water is thicker than: - Mignon McLaughlin

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.


They massaged his skin with pungent oils. The smell wasn't pleasant. It made his nose run and his eyes water. They massaged almost every part of his body. The only bit the missed was his groin. There was some sort of discussion going on when they were standing behind him rubbing oils into his buttocks, but the voices were low and whispered.

After they had oiled him they pulled his hair back and tied it back into a rough pony tail.

A small dark haired man stood now in front of Spencer with a marker pen in his hand. He smiled at Spencer and then walked around him running his hand over Reid's skin. Spencer let out a moan of discomfort as the man pinched and prodded at him.

"Such a shame. Nice and young and tender. A good age. Too young and there just isn't enough meat on the bones. Saying that though Spencer – you don't mind me calling you that do you? – you are a bit on the skinny side." He pulled what looked alike a potato peeler out of his pocket. "I need to take a sample. Your blood is bad. So you will have to be drained, but that will make the process all the more exciting. You wont rot as quickly. But yes a sample first to check the skin."

He twisted Spencer's restrained hands so he could see the inner arm. The man ran a finger down the smooth white flesh and drew a faint line from elbow to wrist.

Reid tried to pull his hands away, he tried turning from the man but every movement shot waves of pain through his lower torso. "Hurts I expect." Reid met the man's eyes and frowned. "Hurts to talk to? Poor you, you are in a bit of a state aren't you. You should have gone to see a doctor." Reid felt a finger run over the small scar on this throat. "Might have to open that up again if it gets real bad, but Spencer, I think you will be dead long before we need to worry about you not being able to breath."

Reid didn't want to let this person know the fear he was feeling. He wanted to cooperate and get whatever this was over with. He tried to smile thinking. At least they won't eat me.

"Right then young man let us get started. I need to warn you that this might sting slightly, but it is a necessity. If your skin is a rotten as your blood then you will be rejected totally and just cast out. You don't want that." He indicated the bodies and bones in cages. "You really don't want to end up like that do you."

A small shake of the head.

The man turned slightly and called out to someone. "Louis, bring me a sample bag and knife will you?"

Louis walked over and looked at Spencer in the eyes. "This one is trash. Get rid of it. It's no use to us. Even if it wasn't dirty it would be too thin and we don't have time to fatten it up.

"The skin is good. Nice and supple. I need a test strip."

Reid's eyes went big and he let out a small sound of horror as the man again twisted his arm to show the inner softer hairless skin and placed the thing which looked like a peeler against the crook of his elbow.

"OK…as I said this will sting." He pressed into the skin on Spencer's arm and moved in one quick well practiced movement down to his wrist. I didn't seem to matter that he had razor blades in his throat he still managed a scream which tore from his mouth where from the pit of his stomach. The man looked up at his face and then down at what he had done. "If you thought that hurt boy – wait until we do your pretty little face." He carefully removed a long strip of bloody skin from where it had slid down at Spencer's wrist. "Other arm."

He kicked out and twisted and tried to keep his arm away from the mad man but with the help of a few others they held him still and ripped a sample of skin from his other arm. The bits were put in the sample bag which Louis had been carrying.

"Right Spencer. I am going to clean this up and get back to you. I will let you know if it is any good." He turned to the standing crowd. "Don't feed it or water it. I don't care if it begs and snivels and cries. I need the skin as it is." He put his hand on the shoulder of a young child. "Watch my sweet, but don't let curiosity get the better of you. It kicks."

The child looked up and nodded.

Spencer thought he was going to faint, but that wasn't an option. He tried to look at the damage they had just done to him but as he looked at it the sight of the shredded flesh made him heave. He wanted to bend over and try to relieve the pain he was in around this lower abdomen. He wanted to at least tip his head forward try to empty what he didn't have in his stomach onto the floor. As it was the acidic mess bubbled out of his mouth and down his chin. He lifted his hands to wipe it away and could now see properly the blood dripping from his inner arms. His started to see that old familiar greyness seeping around the edge of his vision.

'No don't pass out; you will asphyxiate on the collar. Stay awake.'

There was one last option he could think of. Something he hadn't done in a while and it had seemed the last few times it hadn't been very successful.

………………………

He lay down the pit with Aaron for an unknown length of time. It was quite delicious though – the smells assailed him and made him light headed almost like he had just downed a bottle of whiskey. He kept checking on the wounds and touching them carefully and licking the fluid off his finger tips but now it seemed to have at last settled to a point that the thought he could pull Aaron off the spikes. Firstly though there was something very important he had to do. He knew it had nothing to do with that small part of Hotch's back he kept getting drawn back to, but he was finding it really hard to focus. As he again ran a hand over Hotch's back he leaned forward and spoke directly into his ear.

"Aaron, it's time. Bite on something – its going to hurt." He stood astride Hotch and bent over holding him by the hips. "I'm just going to pull you straight off."

He gripped tightly. Floyd knew full well this was going to make him bleed again and be in so much pain he would hardly be able to move but – but the smell it would create - just the thought of the blood and the taste and the tearing of flesh made his mouth water. With a final sigh he readied him self just as a scream of pain shot through his head. There were no words just feelings.

Aaron could feel the hands on his hips and he held his teeth tightly together – he could feel Floyd tensing ready to pull him off, when suddenly things went wrong. He heard Flanders howl in pain and then felt the sudden weight of him falling forwards onto Aaron's back. He watched as Floyd rolled of him onto the floor with his hands over his ears and blood virtually spurting from his nose. He was laying on his back coughing and gagging and moaning.

"No don't do that. Stop – Spence stop."

All Floyd could hear now was the wail of pain and terror inside his head…a long drawn out noise he couldn't get rid of.

Hotch could see in the faint light from the torch the blood oozing from between Floyd's fingers. "Floyd – what's happening? Get me off here, let me help you."

But Floyd could hear nothing – the only sounds was the strange gurgling of fluids in his ear and the screams ripping through his mind. He looked at Aaron as though for the first time, and if Aaron didn't know better he would have thought that a tear developing at the corner of Floyd's eye.

Flanders moved quickly…Aaron could see the red sticky mess sliding down the sides of his face and soaking into his collar. The blood from his nose had slowed and was dripping off his chin and running in rivulets down the front of his neck and soaking slowly into the fabric on the front of his now not very white shirt. He stood astride behind Hotch and slid his hands under his arms. "Gonna hurt." He muttered and with one pull ripped Hotch off the spikes. He could have done this hours ago – he should have done this hours ago. If he hadn't been stalling. He quickly wrapped a hand around Aaron's mouth to stifle the scream he could feel bubbling up from inside him.

He felt the spikes pulling at the skin and muscle as Floyd suddenly pulled him backwards and up off the wooden spikes. He opened his mouth to scream in the sudden pain but a bloodied hand slapped across his mouth – and nose – stopped all sound. Floyd pulled Hotch close. One arm around his chest the other still over his mouth and nose. The smells and the pain and the heat was becoming too much. He hadn't had a scream through his head like that for so long he had almost forgotten how to deal with it. He had to shut Aaron up. He had to stop him confusing him like this. It was Spencer he wanted. It was Spencer he needed. Not Aaron.

"You just want it all don't you?" Anthony hissed in his ear.

"Not the time for this." Some how he could hear Anthony through the blood still dripping from his ears and the screams still bouncing around his mind.

"Finish it Floyd. Break his neck. Do it quickly."

"Shut up."

"Come on! What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid." He could feel Hotch struggling against him as he pulled him in closer and clamped his hand over his mouth and nose tighter, his fingernails biting into Aaron's face making moon shaped cuts.

"Then don't make him suffer the way you did me. You don't feel for this one. This one is nothing. Get rid of him and get back to Spencer."

"I told you to shut up!"

"Fine but you are wasting time. He will be dead before you get there. They won't care who he is. You know they won't care. You know what they will do to him."

As he felt Aaron's struggles slow down he took his hand away and let him drop to the floor.

"Get up Agent Aaron Hotchner. You have wasted enough of my time. We are meant to be finding Spencer."

Hotch lay gasping for the breath Floyd had stopped him taking and tried to roll over onto his side without the injury. "What is your problem Flanders? Help me up and out of here." Flanders could hear better now. The screaming in his head and stopped and the blood from his ears was reduced to a very slow drip.

"If you weren't already crawling around like a dirty animal I would kick your sodding teeth in. If Spence is dead I will blame you."

He pulled Hotch up to his feet and pushed him face first against the wall. A tiny little prickle danced around in Floyds mind as the looked at the back and the curve of the buttocks, so he quickly turned and climbed his way up out of the pit.

"Give me your hands." Aaron could hear the voice from the rim of the pit. He reached up and Floyd grabbed and pulled all in once movement. He dragged him away from the edge and let go of him. "Can you walk?"

"I'm not sure." Floyd watched Hotch start to push up from the floor.

"Well Agent Aaron Hotchner – here's the thing – Spence is being tortured and I don't have time to waste helping you. So go back and wait for me at home, or come with me, or failing that, I can finish you off. Either way I don't care. Just don't get in my way."

Hotch leaned on the wall. "I won't. Just give me time.

Floyd walked slowly along the edge of the tunnel. Hotch having now to hold onto the edge of the tunnel with one hand and his side with the other was following close behind. This time is mind was focused on Spencer and not on Floyd's behind.

They kept walking in silence. Hotch because he really could think of nothing to say to this man whose mood changed so quickly and suddenly. He was beginning to see why Spencer couldn't remove himself from this man. The good times were completely mind blowing. The bad terrifying. An adrenaline rush he was sure Reid was unable to reason with. Hotch wasn't quite as easy. In a lot of ways. The sudden voice made him jump and he saw Floyd move quickly off in the direction it had come from. Hotch stood and watched not fully able to understand this situation. His brilliant profiling mind had been well and truly scrambled by Flanders.

"Floyd." The voice called. "You took your time."

Floyd looked back at Hotch and walked over to the owner of the voice.

"Well be thankful I am here at all. We talked about this."

"Thankful?" A snort of laughter. "And we didn't agree to your terms." The voice was low and carried a strange accent.

"I need him back."

"Well then we have a problem don't we."


Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family: - Anthony Brandt