9:47 pm, BAU Office
Prentiss strode into the conference room and announced, "I think Reid was being stalked by the unsub."
"What?" JJ asked, turning to look at Prentiss.
"We know that the unsub had most likely planned Reid as his final target from the start, so he must have done some surveillance on him, but surveillance won't tell you that Reid would open the door late at night for Jeff Davies. In the security footage, the unsub went right past Reid's apartment first without even a glance in that direction or a falter in his step. He had planned that he would use Jeff to get to Reid well before that night. He must have inside information," Prentiss explained.
"So you think the unsub stalked Reid, or maybe Mr. Davies?" Rossi asked.
"It's possible, but it doesn't quite fit the profile. Our unsub is organized and has a set plan for what he's going to do, stalking is much more erratic and obsessional," Hotch said.
"But he is obsessed with Reid," Morgan exclaimed. "The other victims, they weren't surrogates, they were practice for what the unsub is going to do to Reid now that he has his hands on him," Morgan observed, worry clear in his raised voice.
Hotch sighed and conceded, "I think Morgan's right. The victims resembled Reid in appearance and intelligence and it can't be easy to find someone with as high of an IQ as Reid in Virginia."
"There has to be a pattern here," Morgan mused to himself, glancing over everything taped up on the evidence board.
Garcia came in and announced, "There's no unusual activity within the bureau among any employees, so I've expanded my search to the local and state police."
"Thanks, Garcia," Rossi said.
Morgan sighed in defeat, failing to find anything, and Rossi and Garcia glanced at the board.
"Wait a second," Garcia said, grabbing a marker. She scribbled 'outside apartment' in her flowery handwriting underneath the picture of Barry Rhinefeld and then wrote 'two blocks away' under the picture of Marcus O'Neal.
"You guys always say the first victim is the most important, but doesn't it take three in order to be considered serial?" Garcia asked.
"Yeah. What are you getting at, Garcia?" Rossi asked.
"There's another victim!" Morgan exclaimed, seeing the pattern. "Rossi, you said yourself that the unsub's brutality with his victims increased drastically between the first and second, but it was actually the first and third victim. Marcus O'Neal was found two blocks from Reid's apartment, and Barry Rhinefeld was found right outside next to the building. Another body should have been dumped one block from Reid's apartment, which means Reid is the unsub's endgame," Morgan explained.
"All right, JJ, set up more security around Reid's apartment and see if anyone's noticed anything unusual around Reid's apartment going back two weeks. Garcia, check for any missing person's reports filed in the past week. The rest of you, come with me. We're going to find our second victim," Hotch designated roles, and they all got to work, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss trailing Hotch out of the building.
10:21 pm, One Block from Capital Plaza Apartments
Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss all exited the SUV, splitting up and each taking one side of the small block one away from Reid's apartment.
A few minutes later, Prentiss called from behind the office building on the block, "Over here, guys."
They all joined her by the dumpsters, and upon close examination, they could see a shoe, clearly attached to a foot, poking out from beneath a smelly pile of trash overflowing from the rusty dumpster.
Rossi called the crime scene people and the rest of them pulled on latex gloves and started unearthing the body from the trash.
An hour later they had learned that the body had been dumped there four days ago and had been dead for five, and no one had noticed it because trash pick-up wasn't until the next morning. No security footage or witnesses, but the body had once been a twenty-seven year old Caucasian male with an IQ of 181 by the name of John Welling. His family had reported him missing two days prior to his death.
His face had been slightly disfigured by broken bones and swelling, but he had less bruises than victim number three covering the rest of his body, a shallow stab wound, and again cause of death was a single 10 mm gunshot to the head.
Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss wearily headed back to the BAU at almost midnight, bearing new information and a mounting sense of worry. The closer they got to solving this case, the less likely chance that Reid wouldn't end up victim four.
Unknown Time, Unknown Location
Reid woke and cracked open one eye. He could hardly see, his other eye was swollen shut and the light caused him to squint against the glare. He was back on the table, strapped down, and his body ached so much he almost wished the man would give him more of whatever he had drugged him with to kidnap him from his apartment. At least then he wouldn't be able to feel the tender bruises throbbing all over his back and face and arms, or the dull but constant ache in his middle from the stab wound and broken ribs, or the burning of the most likely infected gunshot wounds on his shoulder and chest.
He was exhausted and wanted to sink back into a numb state of unconsciousness, but he didn't know how close the rest of the team was to finding him. He had to get some information to help in his own escape, or if it came down to it, the team finding him, dead or alive.
Reid waited nervously for the man, the unsub, the last face he would see before he died, to come back. He didn't dare move because he could already hardly stand the pain, and he tried to force himself to stop shaking from cold and exhaustion, each shudder sending another wave of pain coursing through his whole body.
It seemed like forever before Reid heard the dreadfully now-familiar metallic clang and creak of the vault door of his prison opening and the steady thud, thud, thud of the unsub striding towards him. Every little noise seemed to echo off the walls of the room, piercing through his ears and ricocheting off the inside of his skull.
Reid spoke in a scratchy voice before the man could even open his mouth to greet him, "Wh-where am I?" If he knew that, he could get out of here.
"Stupid boy. You're the same place you've been for the past three days," the man seemed to gloat over him.
Three? It had felt like an eternity.
"Where?" Reid repeated, his voice low in the vast space.
The man chuckled menacingly. "My sanctuary. And trust me, you will not be getting out of here alive."
The words replayed themselves over and over again in Reid's head. Alive, alive, alive. He had to escape, and soon. He didn't want this dark, dank dungeon to be the last thing he ever saw.
YOU ARE READING
Pretty Boy- A Criminal Minds Fanfic
Fanfiction"Who are y-" With a swift backhand to the face, Spencer was silenced, yet again. The force interrupted his balance and he swayed a bit before falling onto his back. The man stood above him, weapon pointed at his head.
