Escalation
Chapter 9
Vilification

'A dog is man's best friend.' English proverb

Hotch was in severe pain. When the men came to collect him after the last customers, he was unable to stand, let alone walk, so they dragged him to the bathroom and shoved him in the shower again. He made no protest. Whatever he did, he would lose the fight. He needed to conserve energy.

Today they allowed him warm water. He almost cried with relief as the water washed blood from his face and body. He watched it drain away, swirling pink down the drain. The sight mesmerised him; he was detached. It was someone else's blood and dirt, not his.

He turned his face towards the needles of water, and felt it touch his skin and eye lids, taking with the blood some of the agony.

Then he was pulled out of the shower and back to his corner.

Again he was given washed towels to lie on, and again he tied one around his hips. His food had been changed and the water topped up.

He had to eat. The food smelled horrible. He took a small piece on his finger and ate it. His stomach rebelled, and he vomited again. He couldn't eat the food, but he drank the water, and curled up to go to sleep.

The sleep didn't last long.

'We have an afternoon customer today', he was told, 'so wake up.'

A kick to the back made sure that the message got across, and Hotch cried out in pain as he tried to roll out of the way.

'On your knees.'

Hotch did his best to obey, but he was exhausted. A bucket of ice cold water was thrown at him, which took his breath away, and made him gasp for breath.

Now fully awake, he was left at the mercy of the new customers.

Three men. They unlocked the chain, and made him walk to the bed. Hotch could hardly put one foot in front of the other to get there, and the men grew impatient and dragged him there in the end. They used the chains on the bed, and chained him down on his back.

One man sat across him, facing away from him, so Hotch couldn't see what he was going to do. He was too exhausted to fight, but the pain was unbelievable, as the men assaulted him. he brought his knees up in a fruitless attempt to minimise the pain, but the man's nails dug deep into him and he felt the trickle of blood as he screamed again. He tried to turn over, tried to protect himself from this cruelty. There was nothing he could do.

The man turned around and raped him, his hands on Hotch's throat, tightening, squeezing. Hotch tried to turn his head in a feeble attempt to save his life.....

'Don't kill him! We haven't had a go yet!'

The grip loosened, and Hotch gasped for air, drawing it into his lungs with relief. The man got off him, and another took his place.

This man hit him in the face while he raped him, beating him, and getting turned on by the violence of his attack. Hotch passed out, and whatever the third man did to him didn't hurt any more.

Hotch didn't wake up until it was shower time. He found himself back on his towels, the chain being undone .

'On your feet, scum.' he said to Hotch, who shakily, with the help of the wall, climbed onto his feet. He stood swaying in the corner, not sure if he was able to walk, afraid to try, lest he fall and anger his captors. Carefully he shuffled out of the corner, weak and helpless now, all the fight knocked out of him.

He was once again pulled towards the bathroom, and pushed under the shower. He still had the bloodstained towel around him, and this was snatched from him, exposing his nakedness to his jeering subjugators. Aaron backed into the corner and the water beat down on him, washing the blood out of his hair and off his body, down his legs and down the drain. He held on to the walls, afraid that he would fall, so weak and exhausted, he thought if he slid down to the floor he might just die there.

He was yanked out of the small comfort zone that he had grown to look forward to, and he was taken back to his corner, and he crouched down in the box like the animal that they saw him as.

'Don't sleep, dog. You have more work to do.'

He looked up with tearful eyes. He was not going to survive this, at least he determined that his corpse would hold some dignity. As soon as he was alone, he again tied a towel around his loins.

He sat and waited for his next customers. He was surprised to see that this time, it was a group of women, drunk and raucous, screaming in delight at the sight of him chained up ready for them.

One woman approached him. She had in her hand a bottle of liquid with a sports lid. She grabbed his hair and wrenched his head back, forcing the liquid down his throat. He pushed it away, coughing up the liquid he had taken so far. Another two of the women went to help and he was held down and the rest of it was force fed to him. It tasted like water, but he had only taken a little when he realised that it was drugged. He coughed and struggled but the women held him tight, and he swallowed all of it.

What ever the drug was, it didn't help the pain he was in, it simply made him unable to resist them. The women were scantily dressed and tears came to his eyes as his weakened beaten drugged body responded to them. He fought the feeling, but the drug was doing its work, and the first woman unchained him and led him meekly to the bed where she pushed him down backwards and took him.

Hotch cried in shame and humiliation as one by one the women roughly took what they wanted, kissing him and touching him. When they were finished, they pulled him off the bed and played with him, pushing him around as he struggled to remain on his feet. The pain was too much, and after a brutal kick in the kidneys, the man fainted on the floor. The women continued to jeer at him and abuse him. Blood ran from his broken nose and split lips. A thin stream trickled from his ear.

They were tired of him now there was no response. One of them went out and complained that he was unconscious, and so was not any fun. She was provided with ammonia to wake him again.

He woke with a start as the chemical burnt the inside of his damaged nose, and his eyes watered. The drug had worn off, but the women had sex toys that they raped him with, and it was hours later that they finally got bored with him, and left him.

They had paid a lot of money for the girls' night out entertainment, and vowed they would come back soon, provided it was the same dog, and he wasn't dead yet.

-0-0-0-

Twenty addresses. It was going to take time to check them all and Dave had the unenviable task of choosing what order to check them in. He took the list to Curtis.

'I won't say another thing until I have a lawyer.' he said.

'Just tell us which is the address where they are holding Agent Hotchner.' Rossi said. He pushed the sheet of paper with the possible addresses on across the table to Curtis. He picked up the paper as if he was scrutinising it, and suddenly he ripped it up and threw the bits in the air.

Rossi grabbed the man by his collar.

'That was a big mistake, Curtis.' he said, nose to nose with the man. 'That was your last chance. Now the charge is murder, rape and kidnapping, twenty five to life, without parole. You are a stupid man. Your lawyer is on the way.'

Fuming, and afraid he might lose it and thump the man, Dave left the room, and joined Morgan and Prentiss.

'Get him a lawyer.' he growled.

'So we check them all?' Morgan said.

'Yes, and we had better start now. It is going to take a long time to search all the places, we'd best get started.

They went outside and collected the SUV. The first address was close by and took only a few minutes to get to. It was a small house squashed between two apartment blocks. Morgan and Rossi went to the front door while Emily went to the back.

A young man came to the door.

'Good morning Sir.' Rossi said. 'Are you the owner of a Green Rover 200?'

'Well my son is. He's.... has there been an accident? Is Danny ok?'

'It's OK, Sir, we are just trying to locate a specific green Rover 200. Where is yours?'

'Until half n hour ago, it was in the garage' He said. 'Then my lad took it out for a spin, to see his girlfriend.'

'Thank you Sir. i don't think we need to bother you again, thank you.'

Morgan and Rossi ran back to the SUV, where Emily joined them

The next two places were much the same, family men with their cars in the garage. They checked the cars, and there was no sign that a man had been carried in the trunk. The fourth place showed some promise though.

Over the door was s sign 'Mimi's Massage Parlour'. Morgan and Rossi went straight in. They were greeted by a plump middle aged lady, who introduced herself as Mimi.

'We are rather busy at the moment.' she said, 'but if you are ok sharing – and that can be a lot of fun! – I can fix you up in say, thirty minutes.'

'What types of massage do you offer?' Dave asked.

'Well,' Mimi said, a glint in her eye, 'We offer the whole range, from Indian Head Massage, down to the full Deep Massage, if you know what I mean.'

Dave produced his ID and a photo of Aaron.

'We are Federal Agents, looking for this man.'

Mimi's face changed as if a switch had been thrown.

'You got a warrant?' she spat. 'Our clientele request anonymity.'

'He is not a client, Mimi, and we will get a warrant if you insist.'

'You do that. Now kindly leave my Massage Parlour.'

Dave and Morgan left the premises, and went back to the SUV.

'Let's get that warrant. We have probable cause.'

-0-0-0-

Hotch was in a state of profound shock after 'entertaining' the women. He had no time to rest when the next clients entered the room. All men this time. They looked at him, and poked him about a bit, calling him names and laughing at his impotence. Then one of them produced the key and unchained him.

He couldn't stand any more. His back was bruised and he thought he had a damaged kidney. He was peeing blood, his face was bleeding and he was bleeding still from the rapes. He couldn't walk.

They dragged him by the neck across the floor to the bed. They had to lift him onto the bed, as he was not capable of getting up there himself, and they chained him, face down.

The first man was brutal. As he raped Hotch he beat him senseless, and blood ran freely from his mouth nose and ear. They had to throw water in his face to wake him up for the next man, who was no kinder. They despised Aaron, hating him, and taking this hate out in violence to his body. They bruised his back and tore into him, taking what they wanted, ignoring his soft cries for them to stop, his small whimpers of pain, liking the fact that he was hurting so badly.

When Aaron vomited after a brutal punch in the back, they hit him more as punishment. When they had finally finished beating him and raping him savagely, he was a blood soaked quivering mess. They pulled him off the bed and he landed on the floor with a wet sounding crash, and dragged him back to his box with the towels in. They chained him back up, but it was not necessary. He was going no where.

A lot of money was paid. This dog was proving to be popular with a certain clientele.