Okay, I don't own anything to do with the perfection that is CM or any of its affiliations. I do, however, have the pleasure of owning my OC, Charlotte. Hope you enjoy the story - and have a great day!

Charlotte POV

Standing at the centre of the office, the local Sheriff and a group of harsh-looking deputies surrounding me, their eyes hard, their pride wounded, and their fingers itching to find the son-of-a-bitch who had hurt them, I found that I felt more nervous than anything else.

If they found him before we did, they would.. Well, it wouldn't be pretty. And it's not like I'm the founder of the 'Save-The-UnSub' club, but I couldn't exactly sit back and watch as a town full of people massacred another being. No matter how sick they may be.

As I scanned the room, I felt the lump that rose in my throat harden, to the point of it being almost painful, and it was only when I felt the warm presence of Spencer, as he drew small indiscernible shapes on my lower back, inconspicuously.

Blushing, lightly, I glanced down at the floor, feeling my heart flutter for a completely different reason now.

Stepping out of his hold, as gently and as coyly as I could, I sent him a playful warning stare, and turned my eyes to watch Hotch, who was surveying the deputies with more meticulousness than I had.

His stare could practically freeze fresh coffee, and I felt that if I were in their place, I, too, would feel more than a sliver of fear creep up my spine.

There was a reason why this man was the Head of our department, and out team leader. He didn't ask for respect - he took it. He held your attentions, even if you didn't want to give it to him, and I admired that.

Probably more than I should.

He smirked, then, as if reading my thoughts, and said, to the antsy, enraged group of burly, robust men, "The UnSub is a man. Women are nearly eighty-nine percent less likely to commit such heinous acts against their own gender. Also, there is a clear sexual base to the layout of the crime scene that would not be present in a crime committed by a female perpetrator."

Derek nodded, minutely, and Hotch stood down, letting the younger, brawnier man take over. "He's young - not a teenager - but still young. Early, to mid, twenties."

The Sheriff asked, his brow furrowing as he took in the many papers scattered on the desk in front of him, "How can you tell?"

Morgan turned to him, and replied, "There is a certain impulsiveness about the way he's committed these crimes. Drawing the pentagram in their blood is excessive. He could have just killed them, and gotten it over with, but he wanted to.. Play, I suppose, with the authorities. This implies that he's young - impulsive and new at this kind of thing. I imagine that he's had fantasies of doing such crimes, but never had the means, or the like, to do so."

Dipping my head, slightly, I stepped forward, and continued, certainly, "Like my colleague said.. The UnSub is impulsive, not stupid. He's clearly smart enough to stalk these women, without being caught, and get in and out of their houses - unseen - within the shortest time-frame, which was two and a half hours, according to the third victim's close friend. He's quick, but focused, yet unpractised. It is possible that he fantasised about the humiliation and the sexual release that he could obtain through these acts, yet found that it wasn't what he imagined it to be, ergo the hanging of the still-breathing women."

JJ said, after a quiet moment, her blonde hair swinging from side-to-side slightly in her high-ponytail, "There was a ritualistic impression about the way the crime scene was laid out."

A weedy-looking Deputy asked, scratching the back of his head, "The pentagram?"

I answered, chewing on my lower lip, in concentration, pulling information from the back of mind, with ease, "Yes. Inverted pentagrams are usually related to black magic and folklore. Death, darkness - the whole nine yards. However, this is an entirely modernised view - the fact that it the shape was encased in a circle implies that the UnSub wishes for unity within himself. The five points may well reference to his internal struggle with himself. He may want to get help, but he doesn't know how."

Morgan chipped in, then, his Chicagoan charm in full effect as he declared, strongly, "The use of the victims blood, however, shows a more heinous and underhanded aggression. He may have suffered some kind of abuse as a child, and is acting out on it now."

"The fact that his victims are all female implies that he has a strong dislike for the women in his life. Especially the victims who were mothers - they were mutilated. Their chests were slashed at; the excessiveness of the mutilation suggests that his hatred for his own mother may be fuelling his need for bloodshed."

Hotch nodded, once, and said, after a long, quiet moment as the room took in all of the information they were just given, "The UnSub is one of you. He's lived in this town for a while. He's meticulous.. Precise. The routine of his kills are too perfect. He attacks and incapacitates them. He burns their backs with naturally made wax that he had brought along with them. We've sent samples back to the nearest lab, and we should hear back from them by morning. That will at least give us an idea of where he acquired the ingredients for the wax."

The same Deputy from before glanced up from his notes, and asked, meekly, "Until then, though, what are we supposed to do?"

Morgan said, firmly, "Canvas the area. Forestry, unregistered cars and homes. It will be much easier for you find out if something, or someone, is out of place, as you're used to the surroundings."

The Sheriff stepped forward, and I noticed just how aged he seemed to be. His eyes were crinkled at the corners, and as he stood, bracing himself against whatever frigidity he felt echo from Hotch, he declared, determinedly, his fists clenching at his sides, "Anything we can do to help catch this bastard."

I hoped we caught him quickly - the tension in this place was nearly choking me.