Chapter four, here we go! I hope you guys are liking the story so far!


An old man. That was his next target. He was never really picky about who he killed. He'd killed all kinds of people before. But he wasn't a complete maniac. He was civilized. He couldn't blow up an old man. Or shoot him. Plus, he couldn't have a fight or a good target to aim at.

No, he'd take pity on the old man. He'd kill him in a very neat manner. Maybe poison. He had a good stock of it in a hidden compartment in the trunk of his car. It would he quick and easy. He just had to wait the six hours required from the time his delivery man dropped off the roses.

That was okay. He could wait. He was a patient person. Well, usually.

He parked his car a few streets away, in the far end of a busy parking lot. He reclined the seat a bit and stretched out. A nap would be alright. A perfect way to pass the time.


Emily was just in the process of pinning the article she'd received from Officer McAllen's widow up on the board when Hotch and Morgan returned from the crime scene. "Nothing much?" she asked, judging from their expressions.

"It seemed basically cut and dry. A gas leak in the lab got too close to a Bunsen burner," Hotch said.

"But it makes no sense. That's a rookie mistake. She's been working with that equipment nearly every day for years of her life. After all those years, you don't just suddenly slip up and leave a Bunsen burner unattended," Morgan said.

"Maybe she'd just found another breakthrough and was excited though? She just set it in the wrong place?" JJ suggested, walking into the room.

"Her instincts would have stopped her though. She most likely would have had to smell the gas. To make an explosion of that magnitude, you had to have a good amount of it," Reid spoke up.

"So what are we saying happened?" Emily said. "The UnSub snuck in and triggered the explosion, sneaking out before it happened?"

"How wouldn't she have noticed someone rigging an explosion, though? And wouldn't she have been able to get out before it blew?"

"Well, in the autopsy, they said that a lab knife was thrown into her abdomen in the blast. But what if it wasn't the blast? What if someone broke in, stabbed her to subdue her, and then rigged the explosion to go off after they left?" Morgan said.

"The UnSub would have had to move quickly," Hotch said. "He couldn't have had more than thirty seconds to do all of that."

"Is it possible that he was already waiting inside the lab?" JJ asked. "He was hiding in a storage closet or something and just came out after Ernie left? What time did she get there?"

"Neighbors reported that they saw her arrive home at around six," Reid answered. "Assuming she walked into the house before she went in, getting something to eat, dropping things off, getting changed, you could give it another twenty minutes, maybe. So he would have had to wait somewhere for an hour and a half at least."

"We've seen crazier things before," Morgan said. "And assuming this guy had broken in with enough time to set everything up, he could have come out from wherever he was, stabbed her, rigged up the explosion to go off, then snuck out and run far enough to where he wasn't hurt by the explosion."

"So we know how all of them were killed. But how is he choosing his victims? These aren't random kills. The detail and planning is way too meticulous," Hotch said.

"Actually, we think we found a lead on that," Reid said, hopping up and walking over to the board. "Both of the victim's family members we talked to said they'd been featured in the newspaper. And with Evans, he was always in the news for something or another. He was a generous guy, well known."

"So he picks his victims because they're in the newspaper," Morgan said. "Were the two articles from the same publication?"

"No. The two articles were from different papers, and Evans was featured in several different ones," JJ answered.

"Okay, well that's a lead, at least. Were there any other connections between the victims?" Hotch asked.

"Not that we've found, but we have Garcia working on it."

"Alright. Well, in the meantime, let's get reading the paper."


An hour before his six were up, Nikolas had left his car in the parking lot, strolling casually towards the home of the old man and his wife. He had everything he'd need in the pocket of his jeans, which he wore to blend in with the everyday crowd. Even though he was the farthest thing from 'ordinary'.

He rounded the corner onto the correct street, the house he was headed to coming into view. He ducked quickly behind it, finding the window he knew would be left open. The old woman inside was incessantly blathering away, and got there just in time to hear her say, "… You know you need to drink it, the Doctor said you were dehydrated, you need to be getting more liquids."

"Yes, dear," the soon to be dead man replied, sounding slightly irritated. "Now you said you needed to go to the store. Why don't you get going?"

"Alright, but you had better have that glass empty by the time I get back," she said sternly. "I'll be back in an hour."

That took care of the problem of the wife. Nikolas could hardly believe his luck as he heard the garage door open and the engine of a car start up. Could this possibly get any easier? He almost laughed as he watched the man leave the room, lumbering down the hall towards the bathroom.

The window screen was simple enough to pull off. He climbed through nimbly, pulling the little vial of clear liquid out of his pocket. He crept over to the glass of water sitting on the small table next to the easy chair, unstopping the vial and pouring a few drops in. He picked up the glass and gave it a quick swirl, with gloved hands, of course. Perfect.

He was just in the process of re-stopping the vial, when he noticed the car pulling back into the driveway. The old lady. What was she doing back so soon? No matter, his mission was accomplished. He was out the window with the screen put back up before she even hobbled through the front door.

Nikolas sat under the window for a few minutes, listening as the man came out of the bathroom and asked her what she was doing back, and her replying that she'd forgotten her shopping list. And again, she told him to drink his water. There was a moment of silence before he heard the distinct sound of the glass being placed back down on the table. "There. Happy?" the man said.

"I am, actually," his wife replied. "And I'll be even happier once you finish it completely."

"Alright, I will, I will. Now go."

"Love you, dear."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

She left again, driving off in her car, unsuspecting of the fact that she'd just told her husband that she loved him for the last time. And that she'd encouraged him to drink the very thing that would take his life. Nikolas could have laughed again.

After a minute, he peered back in the window. The glass was just under half empty now. The old man was already passed out in his chair. He'd be dead within minutes.

Perfect.

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