He Is The Taker

!!A/N: I support the 2007 WGA STRIKE!!

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

He lay on a pile of old blankets. He was curled around his victim. Reid was still not awake. That was fine. Since when did he ask? He could see the bruises coming up across Spencer's bare back over his shoulders and in patches of angry red and blue down his arms. His wrists still cut and bruised from before were now bleeding again. Really he should get up and get those on camera. He was sure Aaron would want to see that but right now he wanted this comfort and this warmth coming from Spencer. He kissed him gently on the back of his neck. "Sorry Spence. Really I am – you should have just let me do what I wanted. You could have avoided all of this." He got a low whimpering sound in reply. "I will permit you to sleep Spencer, but I think a few still photos are in order first."

He unravelled himself from Reid and moved slowly over to a shelf. He grabbed a Polaroid camera and returned to Spencer. Pulling roughly with a twist of hatred over his face he rolled Spencer onto his front and then took photos of his shoulders. He rolled him over onto his back and took placed Reid's hands on his chest and took pictures of his bloodied bruised hands and arms and for luck – in case she didn't know what she was looking at he took some of Reid's face.

They looked good. There was no way to tell if this was a corpse or a living person. It made him smile. He picked up and pen and carefully wrote something along the bottom of the pictures, and then divided them into three piles. He pulled out two envelopes and carefully wrote addresses on them. One lot of photos went in one – another pile in the other. The envelopes had self adhesive strips, not that it would matter. He would think they would have a pretty good idea who was sending these.

…………..

Garcia was on her door step leaving for work. "Excuse me – are you Penelope?" A child's voice. She looked down to see a blonde haired boy holding out an envelope. "The man in the glasses told me to give this to you. He said for you to enjoy it."

She took the envelope and turned it over in her hands. This will go straight to the lab. She was not going to open it here.

…………

Haley stood on her doorstep looking down the road. Someone playing games. The doorbell had gone but no one there. She looked down and saw an envelope on the step. She bent down and picked it up. It was addressed to Mrs Aaron Hotchner. She turned it over in her hand and looked at the handwriting. It wasn't familiar. She went back into the house and through to the kitchen. Coffee was on, and Jack was in his playpen. She sat on a stall and poured coffee and ripped open the envelope. She tipped it out and six photographs fell to the work surface. With a puzzled look on her face she piled them together and looked at the one on the top. It look her a while to figure out what it was. Someone's back. Covered in marks – it wasn't Aaron's back she knew that. Why had someone given her these? She looked at the next one. Hands laying across a chest. They had been bleeding. The chest was bruised. Still she didn't recognise it. The next was of shoulder and arm. Hideous bruising again. The skin was nearly black in places. She should call Aaron and tell him – but curiosity forced her to look at the next one. The hands again. She could see whoever it was had been restrained and beaten. She could see the marks on his ribs. She flipped over the next one. The face. She knew that face. She hated that face. She had to phone Aaron. She needed to tell him one of his Agents was dead.

Why had someone sent her pictures of this? Did Aaron know this had happened? She slammed them down on the work surface and picked up the phone.

……….

"Haley – are you alright?"

"Aaron someone has sent me some pictures – Polaroid's of a victim. The envelope was on the door step."

"What sort of pictures?" Horrific murder scenes were playing through Aaron's mind.

"They look to be of someone who has been beaten. Lots of bruises. Some blood."

"How many of them?" Hotch had been thinking two – this implied a lot more.

"Six there are six of them."

"You shouldn't have looked at them Haley. Was there a note?"

"Some writing on the bottom of some of the Polaroid's but I didn't really take notice of the writing, I was looking at the body." He voice was shaking. "Aaron this is revolting."

"I'm sorry Haley can you look and tell me what is written on them? I will send someone around to pick them up."

Aaron heard her intake of breath.

"Haley – what is it?"

"I am trying to read what the writing says. It is smudged." How to tell Aaron this? "Medieval torture techniques, The successful application of torture in the middle ages, How to cause pain with minimum effort. Aaron – I know who this is."

Hotch's stomach turned in panic "Who?"

"It's Reid."

……………..

"Get up. We need to carry on."

Reid squinted up at the man standing next to him. He licked his lips and closed his eyes again.

"I said get up!" and he was being pulled by his arms. He yelled out in pain and felt his shoulders screaming along with him. "Get up and I won't have to hurt you." Carefully very carefully he got to his feet and swaying in pain looked around him.

"You won't win Flanders. I won't give in to you." His voice sounded small and insignificant to him.

"Well good – it will just make for better photography and film making. Come over here." Reid was man handled to a stand under a hook in the high gothic ceiling. "Sit." He gestured to the floor.

Reid slowly sat down – tears of pain leaking from his eyes. He watched as Flanders wrapped rope around his feet. Spencer looked up and saw the rope was running through the huge ceiling hook. He had a horrible idea of what was going to happen next.

Flanders set up the camera and turned it on. He stood and smiled at Spencer as he started to pull on the rope looped over the hook. He giggled when Spencer screamed in pain as he put his hands out to stop his head hitting the floor and his shoulders pulled and tried to come out of the sockets again. He was hauled up until his fingertips were just out of reach of the floor.

Reid thought he must have passed out in pain because when he awoke Floyd was there attaching something to his neck. He crouched so he was level with Reid's upside down face. "You awake? Now listen to me carefully, because this could kill you, or you could save yourself. I am going to let go of this weight which is attached to that collar. You can try to take the strain off you neck by holding it if you want, but to be very honest Spence I don't think your arms and hands will be able to do that for too long. You can call for help and I will release you or you can let go of the weight and slowly suffocate and bleed out as the collar digs in and – well snuffs out your light. The choice is yours – obviously offer your body to me with no complaints and I will release you and this will all be over."

A strange deep whimper was the reply. Flanders moved forwards and kissed Reid gently on the lips. "Whatever you do, make it soon."

He dropped the chain attached to the collar and Reid saw the iron bar swinging from the end.

The agony was intense and immediate. He felt the metal collar cutting into his skin and he could feel the quick rush of blood pouring down the sides of his face. His hands moved slowly and painfully to the collar and then to the chain. Bruised swollen fingers wrapped around the chain and held tight.

Take the strain of the collar – That is all you need to do and it will be alright. He can't win. You are stronger than him. Remember Gideon's words. He watched blood drip onto the floor and splash onto his hands. No no not the hands not on my hands. You will lose your grip. Stay with it. Keep the weight off your neck. But it was too late, his hands were slipping the collar was tightening, and he could feel the chain running between his fingers. This is either going to decapitate you or choke you. That is if you don't bleed out first. He stared at the floor, mesmerised by the splatting patterns his blood was leaving on the floor. It was splashing back and hitting his fingers and hands in tiny droplets. He was going to die. Die here hanging upside down in some mad mans torture chamber, and he wasn't even missed. This can't happen. I can't die like this. I won't let his happen.

"Floyd." His voice sounded like it was coming from a long way off. "Please." Not much more than a whisper.

He could see a set of boots standing in the blood. "Beg. I want to hear you begging."

"Please – l l l let me down Floyd – I don't w w want to die here. Let – let me down."

"But I have only just started on you Spence. I really don't think I have won you over already." Then boots moved away and Spencer moved a hand out and touched Floyd.

"I am begging you Floyd. Not like this. Let me down. I will do what you want." Just tell him what he wants to hear – get out of this then think what to do.

…………

Hotch called the team together. "We are handing this case over to someone else. I don't like working without our full team. I am pulling out."

Morgan sat and frowned. "What's happened?"

Aaron looked over at Prentiss and JJ. "Garcia has contacted me. We need to go back. Someone – Flanders maybe, fingerprints came back inconclusive – sent Garcia and Haley some photographs. I have copies of them here for you. Well of the ones Garcia received. I think the ones Haley got are either the same or very similar." He placed some blown up copies of the pictures Garcia had been given on the small table they were sitting around. "I no longer think any of us are in the position to carry on here. Get your things ready, we are leaving." He stood up and left before he had to look at the faces of his team. What was left of his team.

Morgan reached over and turned over a picture.

………….

"Well Spence I know you don't mean that." He looked down at the fingers twisted around the fabric of his trousers. Slowly he bent down and removed them.

"I think you need a bit longer to think about this." I am going for a smoke. We will talk about this again when I get back. Don't forget to smile for the camera.

He closed his eyes and tried to think what Gideon would have done. That was insane this would never have happened to Gideon. Jason was strong. Jason wasn't weak like this. He wouldn't have compromised everything out of spite. He wouldn't have got this confused. No, Jason would never have to cope with this because this would never happen to him. He could see the camera looking at him out of the corner of his eye. There was no live feed this time like there was with Hankel. He didn't know what he was filming this all for.

Things were turning a funny shade of grey. It looked like the colour was slowly being drained. The printer has run out of ink. Someone talking to him.

"I do love you – you know that don't you?" And he could feel the collar being taken off his neck and a something kissing him on the nape of his neck. "If I didn't you would have died a long time ago back in the woods with the wind. I planned it. I wasn't going to use you. You are too strong. Your brain wont hold my suggestions. You are a strange one Spence."

He felt his head touch the floor and slide along the puddle of blood. "I looked down and saw not the face of some random victim I had chosen, but the face of something really quite astonishing. So I will save you. But you have to save me first."

Spencer could feel he was being dragged by his feet and thrown onto the dirty soiled blankets in the corner of the room. His hands were pulled behind his back and cuffed. The rope stayed wrapped around his ankles.

"Sorry. I need some good photos. I will untie you after."

This time they were photos taken more at a distance. This time they would see all the damage being done to their youngest. This was a special message for Aaron. He wrote carefully on the bottom of one half of the pictures 'I have your boy' There were only eight this time. Four of them he put in an envelope, the other four he took and attached them to the wall alongside the other six.

He returned to Spencer and untied him. "Here, have something to drink."

Spencer didn't care now what it was, if it took away some of this pain and self hatred it would be good. He drank until the room became dark and smoky, and he felt Flanders lay down behind him.

"Spencer - time for another payment I think."

…………………..

!!A/N: I support the 2007 WGA STRIKE!!