Chapter 7
"Cullen, you need to relax..."
Another week had passed when Mason had finally decided it was time to introduce his new "brother" to the fine art of murder.
They were in a van that Mason had bought cheaply for cash a few towns over several days before and were slowly casing the streets a town over from the house, looking for a target.
It was 2 a.m. and if Mason felt alert and wired, the man next to him looked like he was running on pure caffeine.
"This isn't right." was the curt reply he got back.
Mason rolled his eyes and continued driving.
Hotch pressed his hand down on his leg trying to get it from moving, but it's like it had a mind of its own; though he was quiet, his mind was racing and Mason had sensed it.
This couldn't be right; but his brother was so sure…
His emotions confusing him he turned to Mason.
"What ...what if I mess up?"
"What if…seriously Cullen, you think I expect you to remember exactly what to do? Your brain is still Swiss cheese...we'll take this slow."
Hotch bit his lip and looked out the passenger window.
"This is what we do." he muttered, trying hard to quell the discomfort he was feeling.
"This is what we do." echoed Mason. "Don't worry, you'll understand soon enough why we do it. Once you experience the feeling again, you'll understand everything, brother."
As they drove by a bowling alley, a side door to the building opened and a young woman walked out, quickly locking the door behind her.
"I think we got ourselves a winner!" chuckled Mason as he slowed the van and watched as the woman got in her car; the sound of the car engine not turning over was beautiful to his ears.
Hotch sat up in his seat as his brother drove around, parking by the side of the building. Mason reached behind him grabbing the tire iron from the floor of the van and swiftly got out.
"Get the back doors open and be ready." he whispered to Hotch.
Gripping the tire iron he started round the corner of the building watching the woman who was now out of her car, behind the open hood trying to figure out what the problem was. He could hear her cursing and grinned...he turned back to the van to say something and saw the passenger seat was still filled with Mr. Bouncing Angst.
He strode back to the van.
"Dammit, Cullen...get movin'!" he whispered harshly through the driver's side window.
The older man stared tight lipped, eyes wide at him.
"I will teach you your shape, brother," hissed Mason. "You've forgotten, but I'll help you remember…this is the first step...now get the damn doors open!"
Hotch flinched at the harshness in Mason's voice then quickly slipped from the passenger seat.
Mason moved back to the corner and turned it walking quickly but quietly towards the woman's car, happy to hear the soft creak of the van's back doors being opened.
She had her back to him, arguing with someone on her phone, he could hear snippets of her words as he drew closer.
Car won't …
... late...Gotta come get me..
Walk home?!...
No now...right now!
As he drew silently closer, his blood raced through his veins, a crescendo to his inner music; a nearby streetlight spotlighting his joy.
She was blonde!
He reached her as she ended the call and as she turned around, the frustration evident on her face, he was upon her; the climax of the tire iron smashing her across the head causing Mason to pant in excitement.
Her body dropped to the ground like a rag doll, all the life flying from her in that brief moment.
Mason picked her up and throwing her over his shoulder, he quickly made his way back to the van, the bloody tire iron still gripped tightly in his hand.
Coming around to the back of the van, Mason could see that Mr. Bouncing Angst seemed to be somewhat calmer, he was leaning against the side of the building, both hands in his pockets with his eyes closed.
"Cullen…" growled Mason.
He could hear Hotch breathing heavily…murmuring something under his breath.
Well hell, he wasn't sure whether to up the man's drug intake or syphon it off the way he was acting; he figured he'd decide on this once they got the girl back to the house.
"Do you want us to get caught, Cullen? Do you want to go to jail?"
Hotch's eyes flew open. "No!"
"So, help me then!"
He stared at the body over Mason's shoulder.
"Is she…dead?"
"Not yet brother, now get in and help me with her!"
Hotch flinched, then jumped in the back of the van and helped pull the unconscious woman in.
Once in, Mason threw the tire iron in after her then slammed the doors shut, ran around and got into the van starting the engine.
"Hey," he turned to a now Mr. Silent Angst who was still in the back of the van with the woman. "There's some rope back there. You tie her up…don't disappoint me."
There was silence for a beat, then he heard it –
"Okay...okay Mason."
Mason grinned as the van moved off under the night sky.
Danica Mueller groaned as she slowly opened her eyes.
What the hell?
Alertness slammed into her when she realized she didn't know where she was or who the man was who was standing directly in front of her.
That her mouth was taped shut only heightened the fear that was blossoming inside of her. She was standing upright, pulled taught and tied against some kind of post.
When the man stepped toward her, her breathing went from rapid to fall down panic.
"Finally." the man said.
The light from a rope bulb bounced off the walls causing shadows to flick throughout the room they were in.
I'm going to die...oh...please...somebody...help me!
The man patted her on the cheek and turned to someone in the shadows.
"Doesn't it have pretty hair?" he asked.
Another man stepped from a corner of the room into the light causing Danica to flinch in terror.
Don't hurt me...don't hurt me…!
This man looked older, and completely out of it.
His eyes were wide; a look of awe, fear and confusion all smashing down on his expression.
Hotch felt…he felt…awesome. This feeling...maybe it's what Mason wanted him to remember…he was finally beginning to understand.
Mason stepped aside and watched the agent; he had laced Hotch's beer while they were waiting for the woman to wake up...and now watched as the man's emotions were all over the place, smiling, frowning…like he didn't know what he was feeling.
Hotch smiled at the woman; reaching out to gently touch her hair but stopped when he saw her flinch.
"Blonde, I like blondes." he frowned for a moment then sighed smiling at a fleeting image of a laughing blonde woman in his mind; he nodded to himself.
"She's pretty."
"No, Cullen...no. It's pretty…It. When we catch them, they soon become nothing but skin and screams...blood and bone."
Hotch frowned as he stared at the scared woman.
"What?" he whispered.
Mason sighed. "I'll show you."
He pushed Hotch aside and stepped toward the bound woman, a large knife suddenly appearing in his hands.
Danica's eyes grabbed onto Hotch's and held tight.
Save me save me save me!
"Mason, n..no..s-stop..." stuttered Hotch. He knew something was wrong but his mind wouldn't hold on to exactly what...It was like his brain was playing ping pong with itself.
Mason didn't hold back and using the knife cut open Danica's shirt, the buttons popping off and flying into the dark corners of the room; the large blade then moving across her stomach in a slicing motion.
Danica's muffled screams reverberated off the cellar walls as Mason sliced a wide strip of skin across her stomach, blood oozing from the wound; he held up the skin to Hotch who stared at it, mouth agape.
"Skin." stated Mason.
He dropped the skin to the ground and spun back to the terrified woman, yanking the tape off her mouth, her loud shriek was like nails on a chalkboard.
"Screams." He raised his eyebrows as he stated the obvious to Hotch who had started to breathe quickly and couldn't pull his eyes away.
Mason pointed at the blood oozing from the wound on Danica's stomach.
"Not. Quite. Enough." he smiled at Hotch; then in one swift motion stabbed Danica through the wound in her stomach and twisted the blade.
Danica gasped, her eyes opening wide in agony then a moment later rolling up into her head; blood pouring from the wound onto the floor.
The younger man held his hand under the knife to catch some of the blood against his palm; then held up his blood soaked hand to Hotch.
"Blood." Mason said with a smile.
Hotch couldn't breathe…
"And of course..." Mason looked around grabbing a heavy wrench from a tool box on a table in a corner of the room and glancing at Hotch for a moment turned and smashed the wrench onto the lifeless woman's collarbone...again and again.
And suddenly an image flashed in Hotch's mind; he was bending over someone, his hands smashing their head into the ground over and over again. He felt the heat of their blood on him, he felt their face break apart in his hands, an energy hot and overwhelming racing through him like a freight train as he did this...how he never wanted to stop doing it.
Hotch gasped coming back to himself; he watched as Mason backed away from the woman, jagged bone piercing through her skin.
"Bone…" finished Mason with flourish.
He stared at Hotch for a moment, seeing what he needed to see.
"You're starting to get it now aren't you brother…"
Hotch couldn't pull his eyes away from the dead woman.
"Sh-she's…"
"It..." forced Mason.
Hotch blinked..."It-it's skin and screams … blood and bone." his voice was soft, far away.
Mason touched Hotch's chin with his bloody hand, turning his face to his.
"That's right brother...with our power we make it so."
He smiled then turned and pulled the blade from the dead woman's stomach.
"Do you remember what we do next?"
A voice popped into Hotch's head…
..was found nude, wrapped in chains at the bottom of the lake.
"We...we strip the body and dump it in the lake." Hotch replied looking at Mason, his eyes seeking approval.
Mason's eyes flashed...realizing that the information about how to dump the body most likely came from the agent's own file on him; his last kill he had dumped the blonde in a lake.
This was getting better by the minute.
"That's right, brother...that's right." he smiled and rested his hand on Hotch's shoulder.
-TBC-