twenty five

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warnings: brief innuendo at m*sturbation, SA/r*pe and murder

𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎

i predict a riot

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Abby and Spencer watched as Hotch and Morgan disappeared down the long corridor and eventually out of sight.

"Agents, I'm very sorry but because there is no questioning sideroom on the SKSW, we're going to have to go through our main wing."

Both of them tried their hardest to maintain a neutral, professional expression. But inside, Abby felt her heart lurch - as did Spencer. All that was between them and ten psychotic serial killers who between them had killed and/or tortured nearly five hundred people, was a piece of glass and a door that opened with a switch.

"Lead the way, Warden." Abby said politely, her voice just about managing to stay stable. It wouldn't look very good to the warden if two members of one of the best teams in the FBI were scared by a few serial killers - a couple of which their own team had more than likely been involved in the capture of, but how could they not be terrified?

They followed the warden silently, there was nothing to say. They couldn't exactly argue right now. The second those doors to the wing opened and the first prisoner caught a sight of a woman (that wasn't a guard) the cells delved into chaos. There was a cacophony of screaming, whistling, yelling, spitting.

Spencer took a hold of Abby's hand, she resisted the urge to pull away as she was surprised by his touch. He squeezed her hand; a silent sign that they had created between the two of them a year ago that said: 'You're okay. You're safe.'

Abby smiled up at him. He returned it and released her hand. The moment had passed and the cold, distance stare had consumed his eyes again.

Abby finally took the step forward into the main part of the wing. The noise increased; the banging on the glass felt like it vibrated to Abby's bones. But she kept her head high, Spencer following her closely behind. She made sure to walk at a pace that retained the warmth of his body so she was always aware of his presence.

They stopped about halfway into the room so that the warden could instruct the guards to open the next set of double doors; there was no doubt a number of security locks on it - or at least, that's why they hoped it seemed to be taking so long.

Abby couldn't resist the urge to observe the room, from her peripheral vision of course. Her eyes landed on one man in the cell slightly in front of them to the right.

Thomas Everwool.

"Is that-"

"Yep." Abby said firmly. He had murdered, tortured and mutilated over thirty women fifteen years ago, and now, confined to a cage for the rest of his life, he had gone insane; certifiably so - according to his medical reports.

silenced (Spencer Reid) book twoWhere stories live. Discover now