Dirty Paws {Criminal Minds}

| part 1 |

Part one of: Dirty Paws

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A WEEK PRIOR TO PRESENT

SHE was hazy. Sweat beading her forehead. Her head swung side to side, up and down, while her hips swung in a circular formation. She wasn't sure how many drinks she had actually had that night, but to her intoxication, she didn't care. She was on top of the world and didn't care if she were falling into the abyss.

A man had come up behind her, his hands plastered onto her hips. Out of habit, the brunette had begun to grind her hips into his, causing his grip to only tighten around her skin.

She looked behind her, her eyes catching a bright blue within his two iris'. She eventually leaned back, dancing against him with the back of her head on his shoulder. His smooth, yet chapped lips trailed along her exposed shoulder, eventually leading up to the back of her ear.

"What do you say we get out of here, and I could show you a really nice time?" He slurred, the heat of his breath sending goose bumps down her arms. She obliged, being led out by the mysterious, yet very attractive, man.

He led her into an alleyway that was next to the bar, which was a couple yards to neighboring an apartment complex. "Hold on, I need to grab something from my car." He murmured against her lips, soon breaking their moment of intimacy to run to his car, which was only a few yards away.

Being as intoxicated as she was, she couldn't stand still. No, she started to stumble deeper down the shadow filled alley. Bags dragged her eyelids down as she attempted to walk, only to end up tripping. Something had caught her foot, sending her flying forward. The brunette landed face-flat into a bundle of mud and pebbles, some going up her nose.

Her fingers swiped at the mud around her eyes, allowing her to be able to see. Her eyelids managed to peel away from each other, revealing a cold stare into her own gaze. Pale, white skin, and dried mud-covered hair.

She was frozen. Stuck. Petrified. Her stomach did backflips as she scurried away- catching glimpse of the large gash down her stomach horizontally. There the woman with deep red hair lay, intestines sprawled over the mud floored alleyway. The thought of the fact that she just landed in a dead woman's intestines caused her contents to stir within her stomach.

Her first instinct was to stay put. Wait for help. She was stuck in a situation that good lord she didn't know how to get out of. Eventually, she settled with flight. She got up with a stumble, and managed to walk down an empty road- trying to avoid streetlights and such.

She stopped for a moment, her temples pounding within every heart beat causing blood to pulse throughout her veins. "Help!" She screamed. "There's a dead body in the alley!" With each and every scream, a more intense pounding ate away at her temple.

And before the intoxicated woman knew it, a hand had wrapped around her lips- stopping her from screaming, before she was dragged into the shadows.

P R E S E N T D A Y

"YOU need to be careful, Sammy." A deep, masculine tone was heard over the cellular device held to her ear, "I heard there's a serial killer near your apartment complex. Stay safe, and always carry mace. Don't stay out too late while you're drunk or unarmed-"

"Dad.. dad! I know, I know. Always carry mace and don't walk alone when you're not in broad daylight," Samantha repeated her father's well known rules. "I love you, but I do have to get to a lecture- apparently people are coming in to talk about the string of murders. Talk to you soon." Sam chuckled, pressing the 'End Call' Button on her phone, stuffing it into her pocket before walking inside.

The brunette quietly slipped a small notepad from out of her sweater pocket- clicking the pen connected to its spirals by pressing the back of it onto her chin. She rolled it between her front teeth, tapping her teeth onto the button as she walked. It kept her focused for the time, but most have found her fidgeting annoying.

She had managed to finally walk through the crowd of students, a gust of cold air conditioning blasting her in the face. A bunch of people had come to the auditorium, some even passed as students even though they're not registered for the school. She guessed that reporters would do anything for a smidge of information on the killings.

She found it amusing, that people wanted to know about brutal things that happened to innocent people. The world was messed up, but she managed to adjust by the time she was an early teenager.

Samantha managed to get a seat towards one of the middle aisles, which happened to be the last seat in the auditorium. The auditorium itself could hold over four hundred people at most, Sam just happened to be person 399.

The lights around the seats dimmed, whilst the lights on the stage in front of them brightened to where it strained her eyes to look at the stage- but eventually she had adjusted. Two men had walked onto the stage- one with an aged complexion and balding hair upon the back of his head, and a man with curly hair and glasses, a small scarf rested on his neck and shoulders.

"Hello, everyone." The aged man started to speak aloud, "I am Jason Gideon, from the headquarters of the Behavioral Analysts in Quantico, Virginia. This right here is Doctor Spencer Reid, who had joined our team not too long ago."

"We are here to talk about the 'Apartment Assassin', or the killer around the apartment complexes down the road." He explained, giving occasional hand gestures out of instinct

"On the bodies that were recovered, the women have similar facial features. The majority of the victims had Hazel and / or blue eyes, and deep auburn, or ginger hair. A-and we believe that the victim could possibly be a surrogate for a hated mother, daughter, or even wife or ex-wife." Explained the Doctor, who made the same hand gestures as Gideon did.

Samantha was about to speak before another woman raised her hand, who's hair was so brightly red that it hurt her eyes. "You said bodies that were recovered- are you saying that there could be more?"

"It's possible. Though it's hard to estimate how many bodies there are in total unless we get the killer and he or she confesses to more murders." As the Doctor spoke, his hair bobbed- causing Samantha to snort.

Sam raised her hand, sprawling her fingers apart until they called on her. "You're behavioral analysts right?" She asked, in which Jason Gideon nodded for her to continue her question, "could you at least give us some advice? You know, if we actually do run into this man mid-act?"

Jason was about to reply, before the younger man stepped forward. "Technically with the severe amount of overkill, the unsub- or unknown subject is most likely suffering a psychotic break, or has a serious temper. Now, if you do manage to catch him in the middle of a murder- it's smart of you to play along with his or her delusion. We don't know what it is yet, but you could possibly save your own life if you do so. But if you do have questions to ask us individually there will be cards outside the auditorium."