Location Unknown

MM/DD/YYYY

00:00 AM

13 Hours Left

When Emily awakened, her head felt like it was full of rocks. The strong stench of chemicals filled her nostrils and when she inhaled, the scent invited a burning sensation to crawl down her throat. She coughed uncontrollably for a minute, and attempted to bring her hands to her mouth to cover it. Only, she couldn't— rather, the task required more effort than she expected.

Her hand, her whole arm was resisting her. Lethargically, she forced her eyes open, and looked down to see why. Even as she discovered that her vision was crossed and blurry, there was enough information getting through to her brain for her to realize that, at the wrist, she was restrained with medical belts.

Emily groaned, her eyes falling shut again, her head falling back against what she assumed was a hospital bed. The level of disorientation she was experiencing was incomparable, but she needed to fight it. After a moment, she forced her eyes open again to get another indistinct flash of her surroundings.

Medical equipment, white walls, morgue drawers— she even caught a glimpse of her legs, stretched out in front of her. She grimaced. They were also restrained.

While the sight of all these things were undoubtedly unsettling, for the most part, she remained calm. She was restrained in a strange place, but she was an agent after all. She'd been trained for this. She just needed to keep her calm and think the situation through.

Quite abruptly, however, that proved to be easier said than done. Suddenly, off to her left side, a sordid voice made an utterance. "Hello." They spoke. Prentiss whipped her head around. Her vision finally clearing up enough, allowing her eyes to absorb what was taking place on the other side of the room.

What she saw made her heart fall into her stomach.

There, not but 6 feet away from her, stood two figures. One was a woman, with long dark hair, and sickly pale skin. The other a man, who was tall, broad and statuesque. Prentiss swallowed hard, her breathing picking up in pace as she realized this was them. Their captors, the unsubs.

Between them— strapped, restrained, and with a strip of duct tape over his mouth— was Morgan. His make shift toga had been removed, and now all that covered him was a thin drape of parchment paper. Emily bit down on her lip. It was painful to see him so defeated. He was awake, and by the quivering look in his eyes, she could tell he was also trying to hold it together. But he was struggling, strenuously teetering on being courageous and being terrified.

She wanted to curse, scream. To break free from the restraints and fight. But beyond being physically unable, she understood that that might not be the way to get them out of here. With unsubs, the profile was always weapon.

Just then, the man retreated farther into the other side of the room, stepping backward as the woman took a step forward. He was a submissive partner, if Emily had ever seen one. He seemed only to be in the room for symbolical purposes, or just for show. It was clear the woman owned the room. As she approached Prentiss, she grinned with two devilish rows of teeth. She was the dominate with the power, the true sociopathic foe the agents needed to conquer in order to escape.

"Who are you?" Emily braved the question in an even, emotionless tone.

"Polite of you to ask." The woman drawled in a raspy Georgian accent,"My name is Eve. That is my husband, Adam."

Emily frowned. She had major doubts that those names were their legal names, but the information was telling. If anything, it solidified their earlier theory about a pseudo-religious delusion. It was unclear if they thought they were the reincarnation of Adam and Eve, or if they strictly pattered their lives after the story. Either way it, it irked her and she wanted nothing more to do with it.

"My name is FBI Special Agent Emily Prentiss." She spoke as strongly as she could, the residual effects of the anesthesia making her words coming out more sluggishly than she would've preferred, "That is SSA Derek Morgan, and we—"

"Oh, yes." The woman cut her off,"I'm aware."

"Then, you're also aware that it is a federal crime to hold officers of the law hostage." Prentiss spat.

"I'm aware that I hardly care." The woman replied and, reached her hand out to Emily's head. Picking up a lock of her hair, she carefully twirled it with her fingers. Then she gently placed it back, and stroked it into the rest of her hair, "You shouldn't care either. Your purpose here is much Greater than whatever you presume your divine function was at the Bureau."

Pulling away from her touch, Prentiss spoke cynically,"And by "function" you mean my body as a surrogate to a child for you?"

The woman nodded indifferently, and to the agent, it seemed like she didn't register the accusing nature of her statement at all,"God has delivered you to me, so that you may bring forth to my husband and I, the offspring we were promised. The offspring we deserve."

"No one deserves to be trapped in a box for 24 hours and exhorted to have sex in the attempts of achieving pregnancy." Prentiss snapped,"What you're doing is inhumane, and your request is impossible."

Eve paused. Her eyes narrowing as the darkness within them seemed to deepen. She leaned close so her face was mere inches from Emily's, and spoke darkly,"Perhaps if you spent less time brawling with your lover and more time pleasuring him, you'd see that God will intervene, reconciling the impossible."

The woman slowly pulled away from her face, and Emily clenched her teeth. Even if she had her own personal reasons for doubting religion, she was never one to discredit anyone else's faith of belief — but the woman was completely, fucking delusional, and the way she was using it to mask the psychological abuse and torture she was subjecting her victims to was infuriating.

"What you're doing is harassment." Prentiss asserted,"This is sexual immorality. Doesn't your god condemn that?"

The unsub didn't reply. She simply shook her head in disappointment, then crossed to a coat mount on the other side of the room. Removing a surgical apron from one of the hooks, she carefully pulled it on, and had her husband tie it the back.

"We've brought you here to this room," She started grandly, "Because you've explicitly disobeyed our commands. You're FBI, I assume you've guessed this is where we do our barrens. However, your 24 hours are not up yet. And we are forgiving. We are lenient. We want to give you a second chance."

Emily scowled,"We're not a puppets. I won't sleep with him just because it gives you the satisfaction."

"Won't you?" The woman asked airily, overconfident.

Swiftly, she walked over to a little cart with a tray, positioned at Morgan's beside. There were an array of tools at her disposal, but she knew exactly which one she wanted to choose. The dominant carefully drew a silver scalpel. Holding it in the air for a second, she inspected the blade, letting the metal sparkle in the florescent light.

"Women," She breathed, "Are holy vessels. They don't really need men. They just need their seed."

Eve took the blunt end of the knife, and exacted it at the base of Morgan's neck. Then, slowly, she traced a line down the center of his chest, moving past his pecs, his abs. He tensed up. Emily thought she might be looking to cut the 13 wounds into him. The same kind of wounds that the past victims had on their bodies. But she wasn't stopping.

As the woman traced over his lower belly, the blunt end of the knife met the beginning of the parchment sheet. She paused, glancing at Emily from the corner of her eye, and proceeded to leisurely flip the scalpel over in her hand.

Re-exacting the sharp end of the blade against his flesh, she cut. Blood seeped from the incision, and though uncomfortable with the scalpel embedded in his skin, Morgan tried to wrestle away from her. She traced the line, and the paper shifted. He continued to bend and shift, but with his arms and legs strapped down, he was helpless to do much of anything.

His eyes darted to Emily with apology and pleading, a look that made her heart sink lower than it had before. It was like he hated to ask her to not stand her ground, like he felt utterly ashamed for not allowing her to do what she could do to talk them out of this situation. But he was also painted with fear and horror, because if she didn't say something, the unsub was going to castrate him right then and there.

"Stop!" Emily cried, her heart pounding in her chest.

In response, Eve immediately lifted the knife. She pivoted and smiled ominously,"Either I remove what's his, and implant it in you. Or you lay with him, and receive it naturally."

Flustered and unresolved, Emily genuinely didn't know what to do. If she agreed, they'd just throw them right back into the room, where, again, they'd be stuck until the clock was finished counting down. If she didn't agree, the unsubs had the tools to easily kill both of them right there.

She beat herself up a little bit for not thinking things through to this point. And being incapacitated like this neutralized the majority of her in-the-moment escape ideas. All she could really do was talk, and Eve would barley give her the leeway to do that.

Then she thought of Adam. Shooting a glance to the corner where he was standing, she realized, the other half of this unsub duo hadn't said a word since they'd been there. Maybe she could appeal to him. He was the submissive. All she had to do was weaken his loyalty to her, maybe say enough to get him to overpower her. Or to at least changes the odds of the room.

"Adam?" Prentiss called to him.

Immediately, Eve cut in,"Don't speak to him. You have a choice to make."

The agent ignored her and kept speaking sympathetically to the male unsub,"Adam, how's your life been— How's your marriage been, since you both began this?"

"Don't speak, unless you've made up your mind." The woman commanded.

"I bet she promised she would love you better," Emily continued,"Once you gave her what she wanted, she said you'd be her everything. But Adam, even if you give her this, she'll never be satisfied."

Eve snapped her fingers, and beckoned her husband to her side. Without hesitation, he moved close to her and placed his hands lovingly on her shoulders,"I don't know what you hope to achieve," Eve sneered,"But my husband's allegiance lies with me. Unlike you and yours, our marriage binds us in adherence and fidelity."

"She doesn't look at you," Prentiss persisted, in total ignorance of what the woman was saying,"She's not even looking at you right now. It's only when she's asking for something."

Eve broke away from Adam and lunged forward, daggers in her eyes,"That's enough." She growled.

"Adam, if you have a child right now, that child is her world, not you."

"I said that's enough!" She raged. Still wielding the sharp end of the scalpel, Eve whirled around and placed it against Morgan's chest,"Every second you wait to make your decision, I will cut a little piece out of him."

Impatient, and deciding that the agent didn't take her threat seriously, she dug the metal into his skin,"One…" Eve counted, and sliced his upper pec with the blade. "Two…" she continued, cutting him again just below the other mark,"Three…"

Emily felt a thump forming in her throat. She watched as Morgan squeezed his eyes shut to block out the pain. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't cry out or put up a fight. He was strong. Like her, he was able to suffer through some pain in order to achieve a higher goal. But he shouldn't have needed to. The only thing standing between him and relief was a decision.

She could wonder all day about what a risk going back to the room was. Wonder if they would figure another way out— or if they would just wait, spiraling into madness until they were summoned to meet death. They didn't know how close, or far away the team was from finding them. The next time they saw their co-workers could very well be when they were discovered dead, exposed on the cemetery grounds.

She could wonder and wonder 10 times over, but right then, she pushed all those thoughts down. She first needed to do what was best for him. Because if she was going to make it out of this whole ordeal in one piece, it was going to be with him. Them together, and both very much alive.

The brunette swallowed hard, and blinked back her tears that had not yet fallen,"Stop…" She said darkly,"I'll do it."

Eve smirked,"I knew we could come to a reverent understanding." She said, and almost instantly, pulled the scalpel away from Morgan's chest, the blade now dripping with his blood.

Tossing the scalpel down onto the tray, the pale skinned woman walked over to a cabinet on the wall situated above a stainless steel sink. After rummaging around inside it for a moment, she pulled out a prescription bottle and dumped a few tablets onto the counter. She crushed them with the heel of her hand, subsequently mixing the dust into a cup of water.

She returned to Morgan's bedside, and severely, she shoved the cup to his face and forced him to drink some of the contents.

Emily shook her head to herself. Eve was smart. What she was giving him was probably something to make him just woozy enough to render him incapable of putting up a fight. No matter how out of sorts he was from the previous anesthesia, or the injuries he'd just incurred, Prentiss knew that, the second they loosened the straps, he would have instinctually tried to subdue both unsubs.

Then, with the remaining fluid, the woman began to approach her with the cup. The agent turned her head to the side, and leaned back into the mattress as far as she could to resist what she was offering her.

But Eve just smiled a wicked grin, "Drink up." She sang, and then pressed the rim of the cup to her mouth.

Emily nearly choked, the flow of the water rushing into her mouth much more quickly than she could swallow it. A lot of the liquid ended up all over her chest, but to the unsub's satisfaction, enough of it had been consumed. She crumpled the cup, and just tossed it over her shoulder, not caring where it would land.

"We'll be back for you in thirty minutes." She stated, and promptly exited with Adam close behind.

Left in silence, Prentiss merely stared at the ceiling. She could feel Morgan's eyes on her, but she was too overwhelmed with guilt to even say anything to him right then. She just let the minutes pass. And as they did, her breathing slowed, her vision doubled again, and she struggled to keep her head upright on her shoulders. She didn't black out, in fact, she refused to. But whole world felt surreal.

Before long, what was thirty minutes had passed. The only reason she could tell was because she felt, two strong hands ripping her arms and legs out of the restraints. For a brief second she was filled with hope, but upon identifying the figure, she was let down.

Peeling her limp body from the bed, Adam stood her up and slumped her against himself. They traveled a short distance through a blank, sterile corridor, and then quickly rounded a corner into a room — the room.

He lifted her and placed her on the bed. Turning to leave, he crossed the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

Emily thought he might've left to go get Morgan. Then she actively panicked in her own skin, wondering if she had blacked out and the unsubs made an unrevealed modification to what Eve had promised. Strung out and irrational, she was scared they might've put him in another room or just went ahead and killed him. But when she felt a stirring beside her on the bed, all her worry and panic disappeared.

He was already there with her. And just knowing that put her at peace. She didn't have the strength or desire to speak, but she had enough to reach out her hand and to feel around for his. It was curled into a tight fist. She tapped lightly at his knuckles, and his whole hand instantly unfolded, their fingers eagerly intertwining.

Prentiss breathed a deep sigh. They weren't free. But they were alive, and they were together. And with the exhaustion overtaking her, her mind drifting off to sleep, being with him was all that mattered.