"Everything here is edible; even I'm edible. But that, dear children, is cannibalism, and is in fact frowned upon in most societies."
― Johnny Depp
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧
"Good morning, princess," Derek greeted Garcia.
"Good morning," she said back and tried to continue on her way, but Derek stopped her.
"Whoa, pump your brakes," Derek told her and gestured for her to come back to him. "Every day, I say, 'good morning,' and every day, you say, 'I'll show you a good morning, hot stuff,'" he explained. "Every day. Not today?"
Soren looked up from his desk. It was true that the two always had that exchange. He found their flirting entertaining but also couldn't tell if it was just friendly banter or if they were in love.
"I hate profilers," Garcia remarked. "Do you know that?"
"Spit it out."
"Fine," she relented. "I met a guy..."
"You did what?" Derek questioned.
"Coffee shop," Garcia told him. "Smoking hot. I fixed his computer, and then he asked for my number."
"And you just--"
"Gave it to him."
"Can you believe that?" Garcia remarked. "A complete stranger. Did I mention he was smoking hot?"
"Uh, yeah," Derek told her. "Yeah, I think you did."
"Okay. It happens."
"No, it doesn't, not to me, not like this," Garcia told him.
"Not like what?" he asked.
"I'm not the girl men see across a smoky bar and write songs about," she responded.
"Sweetheart--" Derek tried to speak, but Garcia interrupted him.
"It's okay. I do just fine. But it takes a minute, you know?"
"Okay, so what's the problem?" Derek inquired. "You think it's all happening a little too fast or something?"
"Yes. I--I don't know. Maybe," Garcia stammered. "What do you think?"
"I think you should always trust your gut. So sure, if he seems a little too smooth or maybe even a little too smokin' hot, then maybe you should walk the other way," Derek told her.
JJ walked past with a file in hand. "Hey. We got a bad one," she told them.
"How bad?" Derek asked.
JJ turned back still walking as she replied, "Florida."
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Two photos were shown, one of a dead woman's face and the other of what Soren believed to be the woman's ID, "Bridgewater, Florida," JJ began. "Local girl, Abbey Kelton, 19, left her parents' home to go to the local junior college."
"She never came home," she informed. "Three days later, joggers found her--part of her--in a nearby park."
Emily spoke up. "What did that to her?" she asked.
"Bridgewater's off of I-75, which is often referred to as Alligator Alley," JJ gestured to the screen, "for reasons that are now apparent." She paused. "Everything below the waist had been eaten."
"Ah, the circle of life," Rossi commented.
"Alligators didn't cut off her fingers, slit her throat, or carve this into her chest," Hotch stated.
Soren tilted his head. "Is that supposed to be an inverted pentagram?"
"Locals believe the killing was committed by a satanic cult," JJ informed.
"Some things never change," Rossi said.
Emily looked to Rossi. "Killer satanic cults don't exist," Emily told her. "They were debunked as a suburban myth."
Rossi stared at her. "What?" Emily asked.
"Rossi's the one that debunked them," Spencer told Emily.
"Oh, right," Emily said. "Thanks," she said awkwardly, looking away.
"Cult or not, the killing was ritualized," Rossi continued.
"This will turn serial if it hasn't already," Hotch stated.
"So killer satanic cults don't exist, but satanic serial killers do?" JJ asked.
"Lasciate ogni speranza ch'entrate," Rossi exclaimed, standing up to leave the room.
"Oh," JJ said. "Thanks for clearing that up," she commented.
"Uh, it's from Dante's Inferno," Spencer began.
"'Abandon hope, all ye who enter here,'" Soren translated and shrugged before following after Rossi.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
The team is on the jet going over the details of the case.
"We never found any evidence of a killer satanic cult," Rossi began. "In reality, there are only two types of violent satanic criminals."
"Uh, type one-- Teen satanists assume the satanic identity to rebel. Minor crimes, theft and vandalism to churches, schools, symbols of authority. When combined with drugs and alcohol, they may turn violent," Spencer rambled.
"Yes, in extreme cases, deadly," Rossi stared at him. "That was out of my book word for word."
"Oh, trust us, we know," Derek told him.
"Uh, killings are accidental, usually resulting from their hobby getting out of control," Spencer continued his rambling. "Killings won't turn serial--" Rossi looked back up at Spencer.
Soren spoke up to end the genius's rambling. "Reid," once Spencer turned to him, he nodded towards Rossi.
Spencer looked at Rossi and smiled awkwardly. "Sorry," he apologized quietly.
"Okay. So that's one type," Emily commented, then turned back to face Rossi. "What's type 2?" she questioned.
"The adaptive satanist is the one you have to worry about," Rossi spoke. "The typical serial killer rationalizing his fantasies by blaming them on outside forces."
"Like Satan," JJ said.
"Yes," Rossi confirmed. "He adapts satanic beliefs to fit his specific homicidal drives. He doesn't kill because he believes in Satan. He believes in Satan because he kills."
"Well, let's hope it's the teenagers," Hotch said. "Whether you're religious or not, the presence of satanic elements can affect even the most experienced investigators. And we're not immune, so keep an eye on the locals and keep an eye on each other," he instructed.
"I--I hear you," JJ said. "I saw The Exorcist."
"My mother took us to church every Sunday until I moved out. This whole devil thing doesn't spook me at all," Derek told them.
"Maybe that's because you never truly bought the God part either?" Spencer suggested.
Derek looked at him as does everyone else. "No offense, kid, but you don't know what I believe."
"Well, I mean, logic dictates that if you believe in the one, you have to reconcile the existence of the other," Spencer continued.
"People's reaction to Satan is what gives it appeal to these offenders," Hotch said. "It has power, and it would be a mistake to underestimate it."
-ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
"We found Abbey's car at a gas station near her home. 'No sign of foul play,' the detective informed them. 'Dr. Fulton?'
"The gators got to her sometime during the night," Dr. Fulton informed them. "Her nose was broken at least 48 hours prior."
"About the time of the abduction," Hotch said.
"Blitz attack."
"What was the cause of death?"
"Her throat. It was cut roughly 8 hours prior to the discovery of the body," Dr. Fulton said.
"Sexual assault?" Hotch inquired.
Dr. Fulton looked at him. "State of the body makes that impossible to determine," he informed.
"The pentagram?" Hotch asked.
"That was done postmortem," he replied.
"And the fingers?"
"All severed at the first knuckle," Dr. Fulton replied.
"When?"
Soren watched as the man turned to retrieve something. "I was unsure when the fingers were removed until I found this..."
He placed a metallic bowl on the counter. "The contents of her stomach," Dr. Fulton explained. Emily looked at the bowl, and her expression turned to one of shock and horror as she gazed back up at the doctor.
"The condition indicates they were fed to her just prior to her death," he said.
"All 10 fingers," Spencer commented quietly.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
"There's no evidence that any of the local kids were into devil worship or the occult," Derek said as he paced around the room.
Emily closed her file and looked up at him. "No, this is not a group of teenagers."
"It's a serial killer," Soren said. "And considering what he did with her fingers, a sadistic one."
"That, I wouldn't say just yet," Rossi interjected.
"He cut off her fingers, and he made her eat them," Soren tilted his head. "If that isn't sadistic--"
"If it was, that's the only sign of sadism present in the crime," Rossi told him. "If he was purely a sadist, there would have been more signs of torture."
"The fingers are a message," he said.
Derek stared at the two. "What the hell's the message?" he asked.
"'She's not my first,'" Hotch said, coming to stand beside Derek.
"None of the fingers found in Abbey Kelton's stomach were hers, and 6 of them were index fingers," he told them.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
"Uh, Garcia just IDed 10 victims," Derek told Soren and Emily.
Soren looked down at Derek, who was seated. "Ja, she just sent the file," he informed him.
"Look at this," Emily pointed to the folder. "Last known locations of the 10 victims."
"Has Hotch seen this?" Derek asked, picking up the folder and looking at Emily.
"Yes."
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Soren, Emily, and Rossi walked into the bathroom, which was the last known location of Tracy Lambert.
"So yesterday afternoon, Tracy Lambert told her roommate she was going for a hike," Emily spoke.
"He was waiting for her," Soren commented as they walked through the bathroom area.
"Uh, blitz attack, probably like Abbey Kelton's at the gas station," Rossi spoke. "Our, um, unsub was likely in a mental institution."
"What makes you say that?" Soren questioned.
"One neat aspect," Rossi told him. "The severely mentally ill have chaos all around them. When institutionalized, they're given order, taught to keep their rooms clean and neat. When discharged, they stop taking their meds," he explained. "Their minds fall back into chaos, but often they do one thing to keep some order back into it." Soren and Emily followed his gaze as he pointed into the stall they're standing in front of.
Emily took out her phone and turned away. "Ok. I'll call Garcia, tell her to check state mental records."
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
"Hey, how's it going with Father Marks?" Emily asked Derek as he walked past to grab something. "Any of the volunteers jump out at him?"
"Not yet," Derek responded before walking off.
Soren heard his phone ring, looked at the caller ID, and walked off a bit away from Derek and Emily before answering.
"Garcia?" Soren answered the phone, confused.
"I'm still running the particulars of our homicides through VICAP," Garcia spoke. "Nothing so far."
"Ok, I just sent you the volunteer search list," he replied.
"Ok, and I'm cross-checking the names against mental institution records."
"Pay attention to those who were involuntarily committed in Florida," he instructed. "Rossi is convinced our unsub likes to stick close to home."
"Got it," Garcia answered. "Talk to you later," she said, but before she could hang up, Soren objected.
"Nope, you normally call Morgan about these kinds of things," he told her. "And you didn't say anything at all glamorous like you normally do, so be honest. Are you ok?" he asked.
"God, I hate profilers."
"Alright. Tell me what's up," Soren requested.
"I met this guy at the coffee shop I go to every day."
"Oh, I get it," he realized.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
After finishing speaking with Garcia, he hung up the phone and turned around to see Emily approaching him.
"What was that about?" she asked him.
"Garcia met some cute guy and got asked out," he explained. "Apparently, Derek doesn't want her to go or something."
"Really?" Emily said before walking off and over to Derek.
"When a woman tells a man about her feelings, she doesn't want him to fix her. She wants him to shut up and listen," Emily told him before walking off. Soren quickly followed after her.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Well, she's Hispanic," Hotch commented. "Clearly she's neither of the 2 women we're looking for."
"Ok, I got it," Emily said. "All right, her name is Maria Lopez. She's 34 years old, numerous arrests for solicitation and prostitution just like the others, but she was reported missing 9 months ago."
"She's been dead 72 hours, and I can say with certainty there was no sexual assault," Dr. Fulton told them.
"Why the fuck would he keep her alive for 9 months and then kill only her 3 days ago? With no sexual assault on top of that?" Soren asked.
"Dr. Fulton, can you check the tissue to see if the cells have burst?" Hotch asked.
"You think she was frozen?" Dr. Fulton asked. Both Emily and Soren glanced at each other before Emily turned to Hotch.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because I think he's eating them," Hotch responded.
-ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
"Dr. Fulton confirmed it," Hotch announced. "Maria Lopez was frozen shortly after her death."
Soren sighed. "That's why we haven't been able to find their bodies."
"He was trying to tell us by feeding the fingers to Abbey Kelton," Hotch stated. "Fingers were a message. 'I've killed before' was only part of it." He turned to Rossi. "'I'm eating them' was the other."
"Cannibalism, the greatest taboo," Rossi commented.
"That explains his drive to blame his appetite on an outside force."
"Why would anyone want to eat human flesh?" JJ asked.
"It's like a sexual urge, a cross-wiring of the 2 most basic human drives," Spencer explained. "Sustenance and sex."
Derek threw his hand up. "It all fits," he said.
Emily's phone rang, and she pulled it out, looking at the ID before answering.
"Hey, Garcia, I'm putting you on speaker," she said.
"So I can't find any patients in Florida who have the charm of being both a Satanist and a cannibal," Garcia spoke. "However, Hazelwood Mental Institution is the place to go when looking for Florida's most dangerous kinds of wackos, and they had a fire in 1998 that destroyed all their records."
"How far away is Hazelwood?" Soren asked.
"70 miles."
"Uh, JJ, tell them we're on our way. Uh, Reid, let's go," Hotch said.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
The team is gathered around the table, now knowing the unsub to be a man named Floyd Feylne.
"Feylinn?" the detective asked. "Floyd Feylne?"
Rossi gazed at him. "You know him?" he asked.
"Sure, I do."
"He dropped his last name," Emily said, standing up.
"Would he be that obvious?" the detective questioned.
"Absolutely," Rossi said, standing up. "He's not that bright. He believes Satan would protect him from getting caught."
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
The agents pull up at Floyd's address and enter the house swiftly with their weapons drawn. They paused at the door. Emily nodded to Derek and kicked the door down, causing the agents to enter the house.
"Go right!"
The sound of music caught the agents' attention. They followed it, stopping outside the room it was coming from. JJ nodded and opened the door to the room to reveal what seemed to be a freezer.
"Lieber Gott..." Soren muttered as he laid his sights on the frozen body of a woman with her neck cut and eyes frozen wide open. A forever frozen mark of time that showed the fear she must have experienced in her final moments of life.
They received word that the kidnapped girl had been found in a different room.
"Do you see Tracey Lambert?"
He looked around the room and at the other bodies but did not find hers. "No, she's not here," Soren told them.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
They took Floyd into custody and are now watching the interrogation.
"Francisco Goya, known for the Black Paintings," Spencer said. "Lorenz's notes say that Feylinn was exposed to them as part of his therapeutic art therapy."
"I don't think it worked," Emily remarked.
"He kills them after 72 hours. Tracey's been gone for 24," Hotch commented and handed Derek a binder. "See if you can find out where she is."
"I'll do what I can," Derek told him and closed the binder as he walked off. He goes into the room and sets the binder on the table in front of Floyd as he sits across from him.
Derek opened the binder. "'Kobe Girl Steak,' huh? That's where you massage the meat, right?" Derek asked him. "Floyd, these are some pretty unusual recipes you got here," he commented. "You try them all?"
"Hmm? Must have tried some of them, right? Talk to me. Which ones did you try?" Derek questioned.
"They have a smiley face by them. Others have a frowny face," Floyd informed.
Derek looked through the pages. "They sure do. Why?" He asked.
"They didn't turn out so good."
Derek sighed. "Well, thank you for that."
"Do you hear voices, Floyd?" He asked.
"I'm not smart," Floyd responded. "But I have a smart friend who tells me things."
"What's your smart friend's name?"
Floyd ignored his question. "He wants me to tell you something."
"Tell me what?"
"Your watch has stopped."
"He's trying to spook him," Rossi said.
It won't work.
"Yeah. Um... I was meaning to change the batteries over a month ago," Derek said, getting up from his chair and moving to the other end of the table. "You know, we thought you chose athletically built women because you were attracted to them, but that was only part of it, right?" Derek spoke. "Like a woman with a little meat on her bones, don't you? Makes for better recipes, doesn't it? Hmm? Something I'm missing?"
"Skinny ones take drugs," Floyd said, looking up at Derek.
"So, what, you don't like drug users?"
"They taste funny."
"Where's Tracey Lambert, Floyd?" Derek asked.
"I'm not supposed to tell you," Floyd responded. "I'm only supposed to tell Father Marks."
Rossi and Hotch turned to look at each other.
"I'm gonna stop talking now."
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
They brought the priest into the interrogation room and sat him in front of Floyd while Derek sat at the end of the table between them.
"Thank you for comin', Father," Floyd thanked.
"Anything I can do to--" Father Marks began, but Derek motioned for him to stop speaking.
"Floyd, I had to pull some serious strings to get him here. My bosses didn't like the idea at all of sending him in. Now, they're gonna allow him to sit right here and listen, but you're gonna talk to me, all right?" Derek said.
"Ok," he agreed. "I've done some really bad things."
"Everybody's done things they're not proud of, Floyd," Derek told him. "The only thing that helps is to talk about 'em, tell other people. Things are always better after you talk about 'em."
"Not everything."
"This is strange," Rossi spoke, Hotch turning to look at him. "When he entered the park, Feylinn signed the volunteer sign-in sheet," he looked at the sheet before looking up at Hotch, "but his name's not on the list of searchers."
"Come on, Floyd," Derek said. "I got him here like you asked. Now it's your turn," he paused. "Tell us. Where is Tracey Lambert?"
Rossi shook his head. "Something's wrong," he commented.
"Father, I feel so alone," Floyd said. "I feel like God has abandoned me. Why?"
"You are not alone, my son," Father Marks encouraged. "God is in all of us."
Floyd looked up at him, a devilish look in his eyes.
Rossi fumbled with the papers and quickly turned to Hotch. "We need to stop the interview," he stated.
"So is Tracey Lambert."
Both Derek and Father Marks looked up with expressions of disbelief.
"You son of a bitch," Father Marks whispered.
Floyd chuckled and looked at him with a smile that showed his teeth.
"You son of--" Father Marks' expression quickly went from disbelief to rage as he climbed over the table reaching for Floyd.
"Father Marks! Father Marks, no!" Derek shouted as he held him back. "Come on! No! Help!" Derek called out. Hotch and Rossi quickly rushed in, helping to restrain Father Marks.
"You son of a bitch!" Father Marks shouted, while Floyd only continued to laugh and smile.
"Get him out of here!"
Soren watched this unfold. "He was feeding the volunteers..." He said.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
The team is back on the jet heading back from that case.
"Blaming the devil for his cannibalism wasn't enough to lessen his guilt, so he tricked others into participating," Rossi said. "He made them all as guilty as he was."
"He caught every break possible, Rossi," Derek commented. "Gets released from the hospital. His records get destroyed. Gets pulled over with a victim in the trunk of his car, and they let him go."
"Never seen an unsub get that lucky," Soren said.
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