ITS APPARENTLY A COMMON PASS TIME. Watching these unofficial undercover sting operations online. PedExposed has over one hundred thousand subscribers, and each of their videos gets nearly half a million views.
But for me, time refuses to pass.
After interviewing the two men who run the channel, Spencer and I were tasked with reviewing not only the footage of their interactions with the two victims but also the two hundred and eighty-seven other so-called men who've caught for trying to ruin a child's innocence. That means watching and listening to two hundred and eighty-seven videos lasting anywhere from twenty minutes to two hours. Searching through each one to see if there is anything relevant to the case. Going as far as having Garcia run the plate of every vehicle in the background of the unedited footage, just to see if one has been around a little too often.
The only indicator of our progress is the sun beginning to set, tinting the city behind the windows with streaks of gold and orange.
Most of the protestors are gone, leaving to pick up their kids from school, make dinner, or go to work. Still, a few stragglers that remain.
"You're covering your face, but I have your picture—" Matthew's abrasive voice continues through the headphones. "I know what your face looks like, I know what your house looks like... I even know what your penis looks like!"
Looking outside to the small crowd of people remaining a sudden hollowness spreads through my chest.
They want the unsub to keep killing.
They are proud to see these men strung up like an animal, left to die a slow and painful death.
"I—" The man of the seventy-second video stumbles over his words, having no rebuttal.
"Because you sent that to her, man. How many women do you know that actually wants those kinds of pics? Let alone a child? Tell me, why would she want to see your unimpressive—"
Some hold clippers, scissors and gardening shears in the air, a symbolism of support. Keep cutting off their noses.
They look up to a serial killer.
And— I agree with them.
A soft tap on my shoulder pulls my attention away from the window, breaking me out of my dark thoughts. Spencer nods in the direction of the door, where Hotch and Morgan now stand.
I pull the headphones off as Spencer hits pause on the video.
"How are you two coming along?" Hotch asks as he has both of our attention.
"We're making progress, I think." Spencer starts eagerly. "Penelope has enhanced the video and audio for us. We have a system where I read the chat logs associated with the video, while Nicolette sends plate numbers, and screen grabs of any people shown to Garcia to run through facial recognition. We've been getting done around the same time. Then what we've been doing is— I'll watch the video, sped up of course, trying to find any patterns, spot any suspicious activity— other than the obvious. Nicolette has been on audio. She's been making a visual indentation of each individual voice in each video! It's a really interrogate process which includes analyzing each voices unique articulation, fluency, tone, pitch, and rate specifications. She's able to tell when exactly they fluctuate and can know the cadence of their voice. It's basically a digital footprint of a persons vocal patterns!"
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Dopamine || Reid
FanfictionSpencer Reid x OC •••• The case of Nicolette Cypher was the first case to ever touch the heart of Aaron Hotchner. For the first two years of his life in the FBI, Aaron always kept those involved in the cases at arms reach, never getting to close, a...
