A/N: Some readers might find this chapter disturbing, for which I apologise in advance. It's dark, I know, but happy endings aren't exactly my thing.
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"Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?"

- Sylvia Plath

"STOP IT! GET AWAY FROM HER! STOP!"
Dr. Reid was screaming. Monica made her best attempt to focus. Her vision was a blur, but she could make out the look of horror on his face. He was tied up in a chair smack in the middle of her drawing room. She tried to make sense of it, but someone was making thunking noises at the back of her knees. She didn't even register the pain at first.
"This thunk is thunk what thunk I thunk can thunk do!"
Beatrice.
Her voice was coming from somewhere above. Monica tried to turn but the pain started at the back of her knees. It grew so intense she couldn't move a muscle. Beatrice dropped the lead pipe by Monica's head. Monica tried to focus on Spencer's face to dissociate herself from the pain of shattered kneecaps.
"I am perfectly capable of doing my job!", Beatrice yelled, "I am the best at what I do! The best!"
She lifted Monica by the hair and slammed her forehead against the wall. With the impact, Monica was knocked down on her back. Her head throbbed, but she willed her eyes to stay on Spencer. She tried her best to tell him.
"It's ok..."
Beatrice leaped and slammed down her knee into Monica's stomach. Blood spurted out of Monica's mouth as she rolled off her back, clutching her midriff. Spencer kept yelling at Beatrice to stop. He called her Deborah, tried to shift her rage onto himself, struggled against the ropes that bound him. But the woman didn't pay him any heed.
Monica could make out through her hazy vision Spencer's bleeding right shoulder. She needed to get to him. But the pain rendered her immobile. Beatrice knelt by her side.
"Do you want to see what else I can do?", she whispered.
The next moment, Monica screamed so loud it drowned out Spencer's voice. She howled and cried as blood gushed over her arm.
"NO!", Spencer wailed.
Monica wept in her misery. It was pain beyond anything she had ever imagined. She bit down on her lip, trying her best to stop screaming.
Beatrice spat out the chunk of flesh she had torn out of Monica's right arm. She pulled her up by the hair.
"Now that I know you're awake...", Beatrice grinned.
She let go so Monica's head struck the floor again.

Straightening up, Beatrice walked over to Spencer. Monica heard him say, in his calmest tone of voice,
"I'm going to kill you. If you go anywhere near her again, I'm going to make you hurt thrice as much, I swear"
Beatrice ruffled his hair playfully and walked to the back of his chair. Her face lit up with wonder.
"Oooh! A real Harry Houdini, are ya?", she pointed, "Look, Susanna! He almost got out of the rope. Fascinating, isn't it?"
Beatrice proceeded to kick the back of the chair, making Spencer fall face-first onto the floor. She struck him in the face with her knee, pinning him down at the point of her own gun.
"Don't", Monica tried feebly, "Don't touch him..."
Beatrice tugged the rope off his torso and hands. She kicked away the chair she had tied him to. Craning her neck, Beatrice looked down at him.
"You talk too much, honey", she turned to Monica, "Profilers. Right, Susanna?"
Monica summoned all her strength, all her love for him to get up. Her head was spinning. Her vision grew faint. The whole of her existence was unbearable agony. But Spencer...
"Not him... Beatr... t-take me. Not him. Please"
Beatrice crouched down by Spencer, still pointing her gun at his head.
"How would you feel about me pulling out his trachea, Susanna? I did that to Dr. Gladly, you know. Such a stickler for rules. Is Dr. Reid like that too?"
Monica crawled forward, smearing dribbles of blood across the floor as she did.
"Let him go..."
"I can't hear you, honey. You're going to have to speak louder. What? You want me to spare your sweetheart's life?"
Monica tried again.
"Take... me. Let him go"
"Oh look at that, honey!", Beatrice made a sympathetic face, "You think you're going to stop me, crawling like that?"
"Please..."
"Tell me - do I look afraid to you?"
Monica pulled herself along, her front dragging against the floor.
"Who's ugly now, honey? Is it Dr. Reid? No? But he is going to be", Beatrice chortled with delight, "When I peel his cheeks off and rip that chatty tongue out with my teeth. Look, Susie, I'll show ya"
She turned to Spencer and licked his cheek with her long, pink tongue. Monica pulled herself forward. She shoved her hand under the couch, eyes not moving away from Spencer. He panted, struggling to stay conscious.
"It's okay, Monica... look away. Everything's going to be all right"
Beatrice grinned at their helplessness. Her eyes were saturated with blood-lust. In that split second, Monica saw the horrifying face of insanity.
Beatrice enjoyed it. The mutilations, the bloodshed, the violence, the gore - she relished it.
Not even her beauty could mask the inhuman craving in her smile. The perfect pearly-white teeth were tainted with Monica's blood. Her eyes were nearly bulging out of her sockets, and her wide grin touched the corners of those eyes. If ever Monica believed in the existence of evil, it was in that moment. But knowing who was at stake, she didn't hesitate.
Beatrice raised her hand with its long, manicured nails. She brought her hand down halfway and the fingers curled like claws. Her mouth opened wide, ready to devour her prey.
The sound of a gunshot rang through the air.

Beatrice turned to Monica, with her eyes full of tears. Her face had all the innocence and petulance of a scolded child. Blood dripped out of the bullet hole in her cheek.
"Not in the face", she moaned.
Monica shot her again. And again. Seven shots.
That beautiful face was wounded beyond recognition. Beatrice's corpse slumped down backwards upon Spencer. Monica tried to shout.
"Get away from him", she gasped.
She shot Beatrice again.
"Get..."
Once more.
"Monica, stop!"
That's all it took.

Spencer crawled out from underneath the dead body and made his way to Monica. She kept holding the gun in her trembling hands, pointing it at Beatrice's corpse. He leaned against the couch, pulling Monica up into his arms.
"It's okay. She's gone", he panted for breath, "She's dead... it's okay"
He took the gun out of her hands and put it out of her reach. Monica stiffened. Spencer pulled her flush against his chest. He held her as her tears stained his shirt, kissing the top of her head, murmuring endearments. Wincing, he speed-dialled JJ. He gave her Monica's address.
"Beatrice is dead", his chest heaved, "We need an ambulance. Now"
It was over. Thank God it was over. He was never leaving Monica alone again, not after today. He would keep her close forevermore. Reason and sense could go screw each other.
He loved her. He wasn't just going to let her go.
Spencer hung up the phone and said to her,
"You saved us"
They could move in.
Part of him supposed it was his own head injury talking, yet Spencer felt sure about it. He tried to get a look at Monica's face before confessing that he still loved her. Judging from how much pain they were in, he knew it would help them both to hear it. But Monica had grown heavy and limp.
"Monica?"
He held her face. Her eyes were closed.
"Monica? Hey. Hey, look at me. Monica, stay with me. Stay with me. Hey, stay with me, please. Monica? Monica?", he sobbed, "No. No, please..."
She had stopped breathing in his arms.