Author: TemporaryUniverse
WC: 1571 (5004 Total)
Chapter 3: Monsters Under the Bed
Day 2 ~ 7:40 am
REID
The Unsub had left over an hour ago. Reid didn't know where he had gone, but he was able to relax enough so that he could survey his surroundings. He appeared to be in some sort of basement, about 15 feet by 10 feet. The floor and walls were made of concrete, with a drain in the center of the room. If he twisted around in his chair, he could make out a flight of stairs behind him, leading up to a metal door. The stairs were wooden, and although incredibly dirty, they seemed to be in relatively good condition. Reid's chair was facing a blank wall opposite the stairs, but there was still a large amount of space in front of him. He could see a metal table against the left wall, but other than that, there was nothing but the cell-like grey that surrounded him. The only light source was two fluorescent bulbs set into the ceiling. There were no windows, and the young doctor had no idea what time it was. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious.
He was wearing his light blue dress shirt and black slacks from last night — Was it last night? He didn't know — but his sweater and tie were gone, as well as his watch. He figured that the Unsub had taken everything in his pockets as well.
The brown-haired genius had been running through scenarios, profiles, and probabilities since he had woken up, but he didn't have a lot of information, which made it difficult, and he hadn't gotten very far, other than to determine that he was likely to live, at least for a while. The Unsub didn't seem interested in killing him at the moment. Reid sighed, and twisted against the cuffs on his wrists, trying to free himself and feeling them chafe and the skin begin to rip. There was the hollow sound of metal against metal. The cuffs didn't budge, and a trickle of blood began to run down his hand. He whimpered and stopped pulling.
The Unsub placed his fingers under Reid's chin and gently raised it. "Good morning, Dr. Reid." Reid whimpered slightly as the large man removed the blindfold. The dim light burned his eyes. He had been in the dark for a long time. When he focused on the man in front of him, his eyes widened and he struggled slightly, but stayed silent. The man was tall, tanned, and built a lot like Morgan, with brown hair slicked back over the top of his head. Reid estimated he was around 34 years old. He wore a plain black t-shirt, jeans, and steel-toed boots, and he carried two very large and very sharp knives. "Are you ready?" Reid shivered at the tone of voice. His captor's maniacal expression grew more crazed. His icy blue eyes seemed to pierce through Reid as sharp as the knives that the Unsub held in Reid's face. Reid froze, terrified. He couldn't move or speak, and he almost couldn't breathe. "Now here's the deal. You be a good little boy and I will consider making your punishment less painful. If you fight, then I will make sure you suffer for a long time. Do you understand?" His voice was a soft growl in Reid's ear. Reid shut his eyes and nodded.
He closed his eyes and wondered if the team knew he was gone yet, and when they would be coming to get him. The Unsub had looked familiar, but Reid had no idea who it was and why he would want to hurt him. He felt on the verge of tears and pushed them away angrily; he hated not knowing.
Day 2 ~ 9:28 am
UNSUB
The man was watching his next target. She had such beautiful chestnut hair and sparkling blue eyes and was completely oblivious to him as he stared at her from his car. He glanced down at his phone, checking on the live stream he had of Dr. Reid's prison, pleased to see that the young man had fallen asleep again. He looked back up from his phone, the woman was heading his way. He licked his lips in anticipation and he carefully got out of the car, concealing the blade he held in the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt. He stretched himself to his full, intimidating height and strode confidently forward. When he was almost next to her, he called her name. "Sarah Hendrix?"
"Yes?" She looked cautious, and a little surprised when she turned to face him.
"I need you to come with me," the man said, smiling charmingly, and pulled out the knife, two acts that completely contradicted one another. Her eyes went wide.
"Wh—" She started.
"Don't say a thing. You are going to come with me quietly. You will not call for help, you will not struggle or try to escape. If you do try any of these things, I promise you I will kill you right here," He intoned, his voice low. He stepped towards her, leveling the knife at her chest.
"Now get in the car."
As soon as Sarah was in his van, he hit her over the head with the hilt of his blade and she crumpled unconscious to the floor. The man was slightly disappointed by how easy it was. He shrugged, got in the car, and drove off.
HOTCH
Hotch had Garcia checking into possible connections between their four victims. He himself was going over victimology, trying to determine how the four were targeted. He knew they were probably surrogates for someone; they were very similar in appearance and age, but the senior agent knew they were missing something, and they hadn't gotten very far yet. He was startled by the sound of his phone ringing. He answered it, checking caller ID and seeing that the caller was Morgan.
"Hey, Morgan."
"Hotch? We have a problem." Morgan's voice sounded shaky. Hotch frowned, hearing the worry when Morgan spoke.
"What is it?"
"He's gone." Morgan was trying to calm himself, but failing.
"Who's gone? Morgan what—" Hotch was cut off. He felt confused. What was Morgan talking about?
"Reid." Hotch felt a dark pit of dread settle in his chest. "We got to his apartment, and he wasn't answering the door. We tried calling him, but it kept going to voicemail and we couldn't hear it ringing. Hotch, we've checked the entire apartment. He's not here." Reid was like Morgan's little brother. In fact, the entire team was like family, and hearing their youngest member was missing was like a blow to the heart.
"Morgan, why are you telling me this now?" Hotch was keeping his emotions in check, placing on his mask of professionalism, but failing to stop the worry and dread inside.
"Emily called you ten minutes ago, but she said you didn't pick up. We've called in CSI, but Hotch, it doesn't look like he made it home last night," Morgan replied.
"Alright, have Prentiss stay there, see if she can find anything. I want you to continue to the crime scene and the house. And Morgan?"
"Yeah?" Morgan sounded unhappy that he couldn't be trying to find Reid.
"Don't call JJ or Rossi. I'll tell them when they get back, but we need to stay focused on this case," Hotch ordered, his tone hard.
"Okay." Morgan hung up.
Hotch took a shaky breath, closing his phone. He headed towards Garcia's office, preparing himself for the tech's reaction.
"Garcia." He entered the office.
"Sir?" Garcia sounded confused. "I don't have anything yet, but I'm still looking."
Hotch swallowed. "Can you pull up the security footage from the front of this building at around 11:20 last night?"
"What's happened? Sir, is everything okay?" Garcia wasn't panicking, not yet anyway.
"Just do it, Garcia." He watched as her hands flew across the keyboard, typing in her commands and bringing up the footage.
"Sir, what's this about?" Garcia was becoming worried. Hotch didn't answer. They watched Reid walking out of the building and out of sight as he continued down the sidewalk.
"Follow him." Hotch felt the ball of dread in the pit of his stomach growing larger and pushed it down.
"Si—"
"Garcia, just do it," Hotch interrupted her, his patience waning fast. Garcia typed a few more keys, and they watched Reid stop and look between two buildings, obviously nervous, before continuing. They saw the man step out of the alleyway and follow Reid. Their eyes were transfixed to the screen when the man grabbed the young genius. The footage was grainy because of the darkness, but they could still tell what had happened when Reid twisted around and pulled something out of his arm before collapsing. Horror filled Garcia's face as the Unsub threw Reid in his van and drove away. She gasped and looked at Hotch, who was still staring at the screen.
He felt anger shoot through him, replacing his dread. "Garcia, can you get an ID on the car or the Unsub?"
Garcia's hands were shaking slightly. "No sir, I'm sorry, it's too blurry to see a license plate, and he never turns toward the camera. I'm really sorry. Oh, baby boy." She seemed on the verge of tears, and Hotch put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Keep looking."
