Hello my fellow profilers! The story is just beginning. The rating of this is going to be most likely going to me "M" for physical and physiological torture. I am almost completely all done with the following chapters. So please review so I know who's keeping up with it. I have been working on this nonstop for 24 hours. That's probably because of the coffee and tea I have been drinking. Anyway enough with the jibber jabber, here's Day 1 of Ali's kidnapping.

Day 1:

What happened to me? I thought as I tried to move the hair out of my eyes, only find out that my hands were above my head.

Why can't I remember anything? Where am I? The last thing I remember is ummm. Shit.

All I know is that my face is almost completely numb – my right eye almost completely swollen shut. I can feel the blood steadily flowing from my nose and mouth and who knows where else.

I spit it out, hoping to get rid of the awful taste of iron and copper in my mouth. Absolutely no help what so ever.

I can remember when I got socked in the jaw in primary school. At least my jaw wasn't broken, again. That shit hurt the most.

My entire body aches with every breath especially my face was in a world of pain.

I look down at my white tank top, it is splattered with my blood and dirt. It feels like my body got dragged five miles. That could explain the dirt. I had some spandex on to make my butt look better in those leggings. Somehow someone took my leggings and shirt.

My wrists are rubbed raw from the duct tape, and electrical tape that was wrapped so tightly wrapped around my hands, keeping me bound to the chains that hung from the high ceiling, probably on a pipe. My arms were over my head. I could feel the blood rushing down to my feet. I can barely feel my arms.

My vision is blurred, but I take in my surroundings. It looked like I was being held in some type of cellar or underground hideaway. It smelt like dirt and must and rainwater. A few old light bulbs were hanging from the ceiling.

The floor, which my toes barely touched, felt like dirt. I jam my toes into the ground. Some of the ground gets under my toenails. Defiantly dirt.

It looked like maybe an old storm cellar or maybe a underground hide out. Whatever it was it couldn't be bigger than a normal size living room.

There was a wooden table in the corner of the room. It had a red tool box on it and old rags of some kind. There was a shelf as well just to the right of the table.

There's no windows, so I assume that my theory of being underground is correct.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw something scurry into a hole. I focus my eyes to the wall and see a mouse staring back at me.

I absolutely hate mice. When I was six years old I got locked into a closet that had mice in it. I was chained to the coat rack that was bolted to the wall, I couldn't get out. I felt the mice run across my feet and shivered at the memory.

A sudden chill passed though my body, and I came to realize that I only had my white tank top on and a pair of shorts.

I close my eyes and try to think of the last thing I remember.

I remember talking to JJ, Emily, Spencer in the hotel room. I remember Spencer and I getting ice from the machine. I insisted on going with him because I felt trapped in the tiny room. I remember getting the bucket and walking down the hallway to the machine. I filled up the bucket and I saw Spencer fall at my side. I bend down to see if he's okay, assuming that he fell and the burst of pain that exploded on the back of my head then everything went black.

That's something, I thought. Who would want to hurt me? My father. I remember Hotch saying that he had a team looking for him around the clock. Did they ever find him?

I'm not sure if it's the cold dampness of the basement or the thought that my father took me but shivers travel down my spine.

I hear footsteps approaching the opposite side of the door on the other side of the room. I hear a set of keys being fumbled around with and a click of the lock opening.

A burst of light floods the dark cellar, I squint to see who was there. The figure stepped through the door and closed it behind him.

He stepped into the light, no surprise it was my father. He smiled a wicked smile at me and said nothing.

"Where am I." I ask, dreading the answer.

"A place where I can sort out my business with you. You just had to open your mouth and tell those agents everything! I own you." Jason bellowed

"I couldn't take it any more," she responded, "I got tired of being your personal punching bag. What the hell did I do wrong?" I asked Jason.

"You were born." He yelled as he slammed his fist into my abdomen. I gritted my teeth forbidding myself to yell out in pain. I would not let him win. Not this time.

I had to stay alive until the team found me. I had to stay strong for the team. When they find me they will think this was their fault, it would kill them to see me like this.

"It wasn't my fault I was born you bastard! I didn't choose to come into this life!" I yelled at him.

"How dare you curse at me!" He yelled

"I just wanted a normal child. One who would make me proud. Instead, I got you! I saw how smart you are, how interested you were in law. I'm going to make you pay for what you've done to my reputation. You ungrateful bitch, I put a roof over your head, gave you food. The FBI is looking for me. The FBI."

Jason walked over to the wooden table. He shuffled though the tool box and pulled out what looks to be a whip. He snapped it in the air a few times. The crack echoed though the air. He came back to where I was hanging by arms.

JJ, Hotch, Spencer, Emily, Morgan, please help me. Please come and save me, I need you guys. Please don't let him hurt me. Please hurry. You said you guys would protect me. Where are you guys?

Thanks for reading, please review!