Gosh, that cliffhanger had even me wondering what he was going to do to Lauren. Seriously, I hadn't consolidated anything at that point. Well, I've done it now and hopefully it's as freaky on paper (Paper? Maybe... screen?) is it was in my head. Thanks to Jeannie and Laura for proof reading all my chapters for me and egging me on to write more. -huggles-


The worst part was the waiting. Knowing that she was just yards away from him was so thrilling he was having difficulty keeping quiet but he knew he must maintain his silence at all costs. Discovery would destroy everything he had planned for tonight and he had come to far now to back out of it. He forced himself to sit it out.

He stared at his watch in the moonlight. Why were seconds so slow? Each one took an age to pass and it took fifty nine more before a minute had gone. Time was just one of those things you can't control no matter how hard you try. He had no idea how long it would take her to fall asleep so he had decided beforehand to give it at least an hour. The delay was agonizing and he itched to do something to take his mind off the time. Anything that made no noise would be fine, but he couldn't think of something. He should have prepared for this better.

An idea occurred to him. He had a red felt tip pen in his pocket and he saw no reason not to use it. Out of sheer boredom he retrieved it from his jeans and began to colour in his fingernails. Hell, it was something to do with his hands, even if it was girly. No one was here to see and he could easily wash it off when he returned home later. It would be his secret.

When he was done with his fingernails he held them up in front of his face and peered at them. If he squinted, it looked as though he had dipped his fingertips in blood and that took away the girliness instantly. Yes, I've got blood on my hands. Just like Lady Macbeth. Boy was she crazy. Not like me. He wondered for a moment if he should start on his toenails but he rejected the idea, reasoning that you had to draw the line somewhere. Besides, taking off his shoes would cause too much noise. Silence is golden.

Minutes dragged slower than a three legged turtle and Mark had now progressed to drawing on the wall behind him. He could have been an artist when he was younger but by then he was already heavily involved in Miami's drug scene and he had dropped out of college to work for his old boss. Who now wants me dead he thought to himself. Two faced bastard.

The picture on the wall was crude owing to the fact that he only had a felt tip pen but that didn't stop him trying his hardest. He had drawn the first thing that came to mind which had inevitably been Lauren. Her deep brown eyes, her pointed nose, her stunning smile and her curled, thick black hair were so easy to draw after watching her for months on end. As he went on, he added her favourite necklace around her throat; a silver ring on a chain that she had inherited from her mother. It was so realistic that he almost imagined that when he touched it, he was touching her.

He stood back a little way to admire it. Not bad for- he checked his watch- an hours work? Had he really been drawing that long? He had lost himself in his work and had barely noticed the time as it passed. There was no time to wonder at his mental blackout; now she would be asleep and he could finally enter her room. His goal was so close.

The door gave little resistance and opened as smoothly as he could have hoped. The figure on the bed did not stir once as he pushed it to behind him. The prolonged wait had been worth it because she was sleeping peacefully with her face towards the window and her legs spread at unusual angles on the sheets. Her white pyjamas made her look almost like an angel at rest and he wished he had brought a camera with him so he might relive this moment later on. It was too late now; he would have to remember next time.

He advanced slowly and climbed onto the edge of the bed. The mattress sank down under his weight but Lauren did not seem to notice. He was terrified that his breathing which was steadily getting faster would wake her up but she appeared to be oblivious to everything around her. Now was the time. Hello, Lolly…

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

The sound of breaking glass was the first noise that woke Horatio Caine the next morning. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he glanced at the clock and swore. Somehow he had overslept.

Reality flowed back in and he remembered the breaking glass. What the hell was that? His answer came soon enough when a piercing scream shot through the house and jumpstarted his brain. Lauren? He catapulted himself out of bed and struggled into a shirt as he made his way to the bathroom, where he had heard the scream emanate from.

Lauren was sitting on top of the toilet with her arms around her knees and her face hidden by her hair. She wasn't crying as such, but she was breathing hard and fast and shaking fitfully.

"Lauren? What's happened?"

His line of vision moved so that he noticed the mirror which took up the majority of the wall behind the door. It had smashed and all the cracks seemed to come from a ring in the centre. His knowledge as a CSI told him that someone had hit the mirror with their fist.

"Why's the mirror broken? Lauren, talk to me."

He put his arm around the girl's shoulders and brushed back her hair. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw there. Around her neck were perfect little red lines, tracing a ring around her throat. At his touch Lauren instinctively hit out at Horatio's arm causing him to drop her hair obscuring the marks once more. His heartbeat quickened with panic and fear. What the hell was this? Some kind of sick joke? He kept his voice calm so he wouldn't panic her any more than was necessary.

"How did those get there? Let me look again sweetheart. It's okay, I just want to get a better look."

She kept still and allowed him to lift up her hair once more to reveal the strange tattoo. It went all the way around her neck, tiny little evenly spaced red lines drawn in what looked like a felt tip pen. At intervals there would be a miniscule drawing of a pair of scissors. It was obvious what had been intended: the line was a copy of lines that you would find on a piece of paper encouraging you to cut it with some scissors. Whoever had drawn it was suggesting they would have cut her head off.

"Get it off me," Lauren whispered, "Please, I can't stand it being there."

Lauren leaned away from him in a pointless attempt to try and distance herself from the disturbing artwork on her skin. Horatio wanted more than anything to wash it off for her but it was clearly evidence now and he couldn't touch it until he could find a way of processing it.

"I can't Lolly. It's evidence."

She sobbed and found his hand with her fingers. She lifted them up towards her face and to Horatio it seemed as though she was too scared to touch it herself, preferring him to do it.

"I don't care H. I want it OFF me!"

Horatio pulled his hand back and tried to explain,

"Lauren, you've got to understand. If I can get someone to process this then we will have a much better chance at catching the psycho that did it. Promise me you won't wash it off."

She nodded weakly and squeezed his hand in fear. Unwillingly he let it go and reassured her he was only going to fetch his cell phone. He knew this needed to be dealt with sooner rather than later.

"I'm sorry I broke the mirror H," she called after him, "I couldn't control myself."

His hands were shaking as he dialled Tripp's number. He had almost been expecting that the creep after Lauren would either try to kidnap her again or hurt in some way but this was worse. Someone was trying to manipulate them by breaking into his house and playing with both their minds and he was damned if he was going to let that happen. No malicious criminal is going to hurt my family any more.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

That night Lauren lay awake under the covers on Horatio's bed. She couldn't bring herself to stay in the room where she had been attacked without even knowing it. Horatio had laid a spare mattress against this side of the door and was dutifully sleeping next to it like a guard dog. The single window had been locked and Horatio had the idea to put the key on a string around his neck so no one else would be able to access it.

Despite the many precautions her uncle had taken, Lauren was too scared to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she could still see the image that had reflected back at her from the mirror that morning. Instinct had caused her to throw her fist against the vision, shattering the mirror but the damage had already been done.

Unable to relax, she instead listened to the saddest songs on her i-pod, drowning in her own misery. Her favourite song was playing now and it was more relevant now than it ever had been before.

Like my father's come to pass

Seven years has gone so fast

Wake me up when September ends

Here comes the rain again

Falling from the stars

Drenched in my pain again

Becoming who we are

As my memory rests

But never forgets what I lost

Wake me up when September ends.


Poor little Lauren. This is one of the reasons I hate mirrors because you can never be sure what you will see. Sorry this chapter was kind of long but I couldn't bear to break it into two I much preferred it as a whole. Please review if you liked it. If anyone has any ideas how Mark could psychologically tortue Lauren some more I'm all ears.

XXLollyXX

Ps. I forgot to write a disclaimer: I don't own any songs apart from a little ditty called 'My best friend's a bimbo' which you guys wouldn't want to hear anyway ;)