Emily Prentiss began to awake from the fog that consumed her for what seemed like an eternity. She couldn't move her arms and she felt a hard, wooden chair beneath her body. The FBI agent was stripped down to her undergarments. She realized she could only breathe through her nose due to a strip of duct tape covering her mouth. Finally, she opened her eyes. She was in a small room with dusty wooden floors. Worn curtains hung from the night filled windows. The man previously introduced to her as Angie's father stood before her with a vicious glare. Sweat pouring down his forehead, his foul stench radiated from his body. Looking down, she saw her arms were tied down by leather restraints.

SLAP.

She didn't even see it coming. Before she could even regain thought he slapped the other side of her face. Thrusting himself forward, he grabbed her dark hair and erratically began sucking on her neck. Emily squirmed, eyes widened, at this sudden attack. She could feel his tongue on her skin and saliva dripping down her neck.

"Ger 'ff e," she screamed through the duct tape. But he only kissed her harder as his filthy hands grasped her hair. No matter how hard she tried, there was no getting him off of her with the restraints.

A chill ran through her spine as she realized his hand was going beneath her bra. He massaged her breast like some sort of primitive being. She felt so violated. Emily only wished her friends were in a better situation than she was.

After he grew tired of her breasts, he delved lower. With a smile of missing teeth, he moved his hand towards her panties. Grasping them, he ripped the fabric with a malicious pull. Now she was almost completely exposed.

Emily tried to find some spot in her mind to hide from this situation. But every door she approached seemed to be locked. There was no hiding from what was about to happen to her. But she knew she had to deal with it. She had to deal with it and survive. She was going to get herself and her friends out of there no matter what happened.

Backing away from her for a moment, the man began to unbuckle his pants. With a pull of his zipper he was exposed to her. The old man was fully erect, obviously getting off on her struggle and the previous forced intimacy.

"Ger awy," she tried to scream. Although she knew he was going to do whatever he liked, she couldn't just let him take her without saying something.

Closing her eyes she tried once more to find something else to think about. She thought of her girls-nights-out with Garcia and J.J that they shared as often as possible. She thought of Morgan's playful sense of humor and the long talks they shared. She thought of some place safe that was not here. But it was not enough… the foul man was inside her.

It was six o'clock at night by the time the rest of the BAU team finished up the case they were in Montana for. When Morgan, Hotch and Rossi returned to the police station they expected to see the rest of the team waiting. Cell phone service was scarce where they were so they hadn't been able to get in contact with the other three agents. When it was obvious that they were not at the station, they called Garcia.

"Hey sweet cheeks, is my lovely team coming back to me?" Garcia asked cheerfully as she answered the call from Morgan.

"We're trying Baby girl, but Reid, Prentiss and J.J aren't here at the station. Have you heard from them?" Morgan asked trying to mask his concern. They all knew that they all should have been back. Deep in his gut, Morgan knew something wasn't right. However, he didn't want Garcia to worry in case he was wrong.

"I have not. But I will track their phones for you right now," she said.

"You're the best," Morgan responded.

Hotch and Rossi were in the other room sorting out some last minute paperwork regarding the case. Neither of them seemed exceptionally worried that something out of the ordinary was going on. Morgan kept hoping he was wrong.

"Well that's weird…" Garcia started as she got the results of the tracking.

"What?" he asked as his heart skipped for a moment.

"All three of their phones are untraceable, which means the batteries are out or the phones are broken," the tech analyst said as worry began to creep up her spine. "Morgan, what's going on?"

"I have no idea…" he said already lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't imagine what could have happened to put them in a situation where all of their phones were incapacitated.

This isn't happening. This isn't happening. This isn't happening.

J.J kept repeating this mantra in her mind as she lay in darkness. A stale odor greeted her nostrils. It smelled of dust and filth. She wasn't wearing the clothes she arrived here in. Instead she was in some sort of dress that she couldn't see in the current absence of light. Surprisingly enough she wasn't bound in any way like she expected. However, she knew that it wasn't very likely she would be able to overpower someone coming in.

Part of her wanted to scream and another wanted to cry. She couldn't believe this was happening. All she wanted to do was hold her baby boy and never let go. But Henry was far away, back in Viriginia, and she was here. There was hardly any optimism in her thoughts. They had all been through so much and they got lucky in the past, but how long could that really last?

The sound of footsteps below stopped her in her thoughts. If all the sounds were below than she had to be on one of the upper floors. Then she heard a lock being opened and saw a light from the outside stairwell illuminate the doorway. J.J winced at the sudden emergence of light. Looking down at herself she now saw that she was wearing what looked like a dress meant for a young girl. She found this strange and sickening, her fear instantly heightened. The entire room was decorated as if it was meant for a young child. From the way the room was shaped it seemed as though she was in the attic. Looking up, the slanted ceiling confirmed it.

A figure in the door flicked a switch and the entire room filled with light, giving J.J a clear view of the room and the person standing there. He wasn't one of the members of the family that had been at dinner with them. The man was very tall and broad. He was dressed in a flannel plaid shirt and a dirty pair of jeans. His face remained stoic as he walked in with a glass of water in hand.

"Hello," J.J said looking him in the eyes. From all her knowledge of serial killers, she knew that it was harder for them to commit these acts if a personal connection with the victim was established. She needed to humanize herself.

He said nothing as he walked towards her and placed the cup of water on a bed side table. It was as if he was trying to block her out entirely. There seemed to be something very tragic about this man.

"I'm Jennifer," she told him with feigned eagerness, "What's your name?"

The man walked back out of the room without responding, switched off the light and closed the door. J.J was left in the darkness once again.

"Angie… please," Reid said as he lay tied on her bed as she got up to put on some mood music. It was an old 40's rendition of "Sweet Embraceable You".

"Angie, please!" she mimicked as she quivered her lips in mockery of her prey.

He was beginning to formulate a profile in his mind, his strongest defense in the current situation. She obviously gets off on dominating. Reid supposed that she might hold back if he just gave her what she wanted: control.

"Are you some kind of fag or something?" she asked with a hint of malice in her voice.

"No… I think you're very beautiful," he said trying to sound as sincere as possible. The drug was beginning to affect him. If it came down to it, he wasn't going to put up a struggle. He needed to do whatever it took to stay alive and help Emily and J.J get out.

"Oh yeah? So why wouldn't you want to be fucked by me?" Angie responded.

"I do… just not like this."

"You're fucking pathetic, you know that?" she said with a dry laugh. "And I'm getting bored… maybe I'll just cut it off while it's out for some fun."

Reid cringed internally. This wasn't going to way he hoped. He could sense his hands beginning to shake out of oncoming fear. He knew this girl was simply psychotic and capable of pretty much anything.

"I think you are a fag," she started in her sugary coated voice that contained a high level of insanity. "And we don't tolerate that kind of behavior here."

"Angie, I'm not. I like girls… I think you're really beautiful."

Ignoring him, Angie went over to her dresser and started rummaging through the top drawer. Reid pulled at his restraints as quietly as possible. He knew something awful was about to happen and he needed to try and get out while he still could.

"Aha!" she exclaimed with a huge grin as she found what she was looking for.

Turning around to face him she held a box cutter. As she extracted the blade before him he could see that it was caked in blood. Reid squirmed as she strolled towards him smiling as brightly as ever before. The fact that they were not the family's first victims made him feel even sicker. They must have killed before and they had gotten away with it. Who was to say that they wouldn't get away with killing the three agents as well?

Angie climbed on top of the bed and straddled him. She undid his tie and threw it on the floor and then began to cut away at his shirt with the box cutter.

"You're really cute… it's such a shame," she said in a distant voice.

Then she began to cut. Reid let out a scream as she dug into the flesh of his chest. She was carving something. He had been shot and beaten among other things in his career, but he had never felt pain like this. He cuts were slow and deliberate. Each time he cried out she let out a giggle of pleasure. It lasted for what seemed like hours before she pulled away from her work.

The word FAG was carved into his chest in large, bloody letters.