Ok. This chapter is going to be a bit different—remember the case that brought the BAU to NCIS in the first place—well, it has to be addressed in some form. Also, Emily didn't get shot for no reason, right? So here it is…
Chapter Twelve: Dark eyed, Dark haired and Evil
It took all of Hotch's internal strength to compartmentalize his new revelations and focus on the task at hand. No matter what he felt for Agent Prentiss—or Gibbs—he had to focus on the man who shot Emily. One of the men, anyway.
He had to suppress the rolling desire to grab the man and slam into the floor until his arm broke and he'd spend the next six weeks in a cast, too.
Franks was the same general age as the two agents and built along similar lines. Size and age, though, were the only attributes he had in common with the men. His hair was long, grayed, and frazzled. His skin was burnished and tough, the product of long years in the sun. But it was his eyes that bothered Hotch the most.
Franks' blue eyes were lit with an unholy glow that made Hotch infinitely glad he would be locked up behind bars for a long time. This man did not belong on the streets among the population.
"Mr. Franks, do you know why you're here?" Hotch began, knowing instinctively that he'd be the controlled interrogator no matter how much he desired to hit the son of a bitch.
This was the man who could have killed Emily.
But Agent Gibbs was to be the volatile interrogator, the intimidator, so Hotch had to be the cool headed one. Normally not that difficult for him, but this time, this suspect was different.. But he had to remain calm, no matter how loudly the primal part of him was screaming and demanding he hurt this man, and hurt him bad for what he had done to Emily.
He'd never had that much of a hatred for a suspect in his entire career. He hoped it didn't show.
"'For dispatched thee, did he, the darked eyes back to hell.'" The man's voice hissed. "I'm in line for my righteous reward."
"We'll get to your reward in a moment." Hotch said, forcing himself to stay in a relaxed position.
"What's that about the 'darked-eyes'?" Gibbs demanded roughly.
"The dark-eyed whores. The whole lot of them."
"How do you know that?" Hotch asked.
"Know what?" Franks asked.
"That they're all whores." Gibbs again.
"Says so, doesn't it?"
"What?" Gibbs demanded, getting closer to Franks' face, crowding the man.
"I shot the bitch and ground swallowed her and the other whole, didn't it?" The man shrugged, completely nonchalant. "I went out and looked and they were gone—nothing but disturbed dirt, wasn't there?"
"Mr. Franks, why did the ground swallow them up? Why them?" Hotch asked, withdrawing a small notebook and pen from his breast-pocket.
"Satan's Succubae! Always black-haired and black-eyed! Beautiful to tempt a man, drag him down to the land of Hell and Hades! Black eyed, black haired and fair of face, signs of a black soul, an evil race!"
"I have dark hair and dark eyes, why have I not been swallowed up?" Hotch inquired.
"Is this a trick?"
"No, why do you ask?" Hotch paused in his note taking, and Gibbs paused from his pacing in front of the observation window. DiNozzo and Morgan watched from the other side, taking notes and watching for anything the two senior agents might have missed.
"Only the dark-eyed whores are swallowed by the ground when they bleed."
"Who told you this?" Gibbs asked.
"Didn't have to be told. It's obvious, ain't it?" Franks said, his voice ringing with a faith and certainty that caught the men's attention. "Satan surrounds himself only devil-females. Evil soldiers set on destroying the righteous man."
"And the two women on your porch this morning?" Gibbs demanded.
"I couldn't let them in my house! 'I heard the forked and foreign tongue, sweet upon the sweet day's air, saw the darkest of the soulless eyes, and knew then, that they were coming for me!' I could not let them! The Book, it says, rise up ye warriors or right—suppress them, those harlots of Satan."
"What book do you refer to?" Hotch asked.
"The Book of Words, God has given me."
"God gave you a book? You mean the Bible?" Gibbs asked.
"Blasphemy! No! not the Bible for it is old and outdated. I am the Prophet charged with delivering the true message for his people." Franks explained, earnestly.
"And dark-haired, dark-eyed women are not his people?" Hotch asked, furiously writing. "Because they are the harlots of Satan."
"Yes, man. Those women were evil Succubae, come to steal my soul. To silence my words. But I showed them, I showed them. The earth shall part and swallow the evil, shall drink from their blood, until only the goodest of man shall survive to be fruitful. Rise up, ye warriors, rise up, rise up, rise up, rise up…"