Good evening everyone, this chapter is really early. But I think you will enjoy it. Please review, fo course, nothing helps me like constructive critisism, and nothing motivates me like people wanting more and more. I'm also going to give something away. I am planning a sequel. its like nothing you have ever seen before on Criminal Minds, but once this is finished, I hope you will be compelled to read it. I dont plan on making this one a long story, so it is going to end soon!
"Everyone, throw in your ideas." Agent Gideon turned to face every agent, Hotchner, Prentiss, Reid, Derek, and Verble. "We need to catch this bastard, and he doesn't want us to."
"Sexual frustration," Prentiss said, "The UNSUB needs to overpower his victims in the upmost way to suppress impotence or some other sexual disorder."
Gideon frowned, "No, the victims haven't been sexual targets. A fifty year old Match Teacher and two teenage boys, one obtuse and the other skinny and frail don't fall under sexually attractive."
Derek raised his hand for a second, and then dropped it. "Revenge."
"No, the letters don't sound like notes of revenge. The UNSUB wouldn't be talking about chess, he would be talking about the sins the victims have committed." Hotchner said.
"What about Religion?" Reid asked while standing up. "Maybe the UNSUB is a part of cult of some kind, there have been reports of Cannibalistic Satanic Cults in the Midwestern United States. Only a year ago the body of a young female was found buried, she had been eaten alive."
Gideon wrote RELIGION on the white board and underlined it.
Chace said, "What if he just likes killing?" Immediately he felt stupid. He was trying to play the profilers game, and he wasn't a player, "Maybe the UNSUB has done it before, and needed a way to up the excitement."
"It is rare, but yes." Reid said. Gideon nodded and wrote another note on the board.
"Team, he is at this school. No one has come in or left since we have gotten here. Now we just need to find him." Hotchner looked at the team. "We need to check up on the body of the girl, Prentiss and Morgan go with Agent Verble and head to her parents. Reid, Gideon and I will re interview the students."
Twenty minutes later, Verble had parked his truck in front of a quaint white suburban house in a neighborhood called Silent Meadows. Verble headed for the door of the house. Derek and Prentiss stayed back. An elderly woman opened the door and peeked out.
"Agent Verble, it is nice to see you again." The woman proclaimed.
"Miss Stiles, we need to talk to you about your granddaughter." Verble sighed, trying to show that he didn't want to bring up the subject. "This is Agent Derek Morgan and Agent Emily Prentiss"
Miss Stiles gazed over to them. "Come on in. I have coffee."
"That would be nice Miss." Derek smiled sweetly."
The three agents made their way into the house and sat on a sofa in a comfortable living room lined with a decorative floral wall. Miss Stiles came in with two steaming cups of coffee. The smell of the fresh coffee filled the room quickly.
"What do you need to ask me about Agent Verble?" Miss Stiles asked.
"There has been more murders, at Newton Private School near Moore." Verble explained.
"You think they are related to Jessica?"
"Maybe. The Agents just wanted to ask you some questions."
Its ok Rachel, it is ok. He is gone, you got away, and it's ok. It's ok. Rachel shuddered and held her arms around her legs. The man who had chased her all the way to the Olympic style pool had left and he wasn't coming back. She gave a trembling sigh and stood after a long minute. The pool was quiet, and peaceful. It looked so pretty and serene with the blue chorine moving back and forth under the dimmed lights. Rachel stepped to it, and put the tip of her fingers in. Closing her eyes she thought of the pool she had in her backyard back home, and all the happy memories she had from it. Her dad teaching her how to dive, her mother reading her Nancy Drew stories while they floated on inflatable's, her boyfriend Jacob kissing her for the first time while their legs splashed in the water.
Something cold sent a shiver down her spine; it was the touch of freezing steel against her neck. She fell forward into the pool; the splash echoed around her, there was another splash, a sharp pain in her stomach, and another across her chest. Her ruby red blood filled the pool like a red cloud as she was washed away in her memories.
The killer was in his own set of memories, his first kill, three years ago, and the long string of murders after that. He had lost count; Rachel must have been near the twenty mark, or even past it. The slut had died horrifically, or perfectly in the eyes of the sick. Only he would truly get it though, and he wanted it to stay that way.
The body was found thirty minutes later, someone nearby had heard the splash, and knew the pool was restricted at these hours. Reid was first on the scene, his heart filled with dread. This made four murders in two days. Two days. What had possessed the killer to take lives so often? It was the same killer; the note was left, of course, near the pool in a get well soon card bought from a Hallmark.
It wasn't the card that made Reid sick to his stomach though, it was the post mortem cannibalism. He watched as the police crew pulled the body out of the pool. The killer had gone too far. Reid welled up in anger, the bastard had committed the most disgraceful perverted and horrifying murder Reid had encountered, and he had encountered some horrible ones.
The killer may have been playing a game, but Reid wasn't. The young agent wasn't going to play chess with this monster. Reid was playing the Most Dangerous Game.
Who, you must be getting tired agents. I'm not, I live for this. In a sense you do to. Just you don't want it, the fewer the murders the better, you still get your weekly pay. How are Gideon and Prentiss? I know Reid and Hotchner are doing fine, I see them all the time. Are you enjoying the Oklahoman sun? It is beautiful isn't it.
"Every dorm room was searched, not a trace of any blood, or wine." Hotchner told Reid and Gideon. Derek and Prentiss were on their way to the school.
"How far are we through interviewing the student body?" Gideon asked.
"We are more than halfway." Reid answered.
"Any likely suspects?"
"No, not so far, the students I have interviewed seem to be more interested in the new Johnny Depp film and rap." Reid said.
Derek laughed as he entered the room. "Was that a pop culture reference Reid? Don't get mainstream on me now."
"Don't worry, I don't like rap. It requires no musical talent to play. Most of the time the artists aren't even signing, it just three words and a computer generated beat."
"Ouch Reid." Derek pretended to be punched in the shoulder. "I didn't take you for a rap hater."
"Do you listen to rap?"
"No. That's a stereotype, you can't go listening to stereotypes. That's the path to racism." Derek joked. He always lightened the mood. Reid laughed to the jokes, and then stopped himself.
"The UNSUB! The killer is racist!"
Hotchner looked straight into Reid's eyes. "What?"
"Jack Sophmo is the teacher's adopted brother, the senator is African American. When the UNSUB killed the two students, he completely ignored the black one, didn't even mention him, and in the letters where he talked about our team, he has yet to mention you." Reid pointed at Derek for a moment.
Derek liked the idea and nodded. "The Jessica girl they found buried had recently made a speech at an assembly about racism in America. I read the essay in her room."
Gideon stood, "It sounds crazy, but it is all we got. Ask about any racist remarks from any student, quickly. Reid, call Garcia and get al transfers from public schools in the area. Check with the students and the teachers. I think we might have something."
Authors note: I'm sorry about the obscurity over the death of Rachel, and what happened afterwards. I got a little ahead of my own twistedness, and came up with something rather sick but I wanted to keep the story Teen. For those of you who want to know, you can email me at and I will tell you there, sorry, I had to keep the idea, because the killer is so impulsive, I had to remain impulsive when writing for the killer, sort of like roleplay, but in a more sick sense.