Isabel rubbed her arm, which had been torn up when she was running. The redhead had bandaged it up, feeling bad about what had happened. There was a stretch of trees near where the two girls were staying, and they had decided to play hide-and-go-seek in those trees. Isabel had been going to hide when her arm had been torn up by some of the tree branches. Isabel felt that it was odd that only the one arm had been hurt, but she was glad that it hadn't been the other. It was the arm she didn't write with, which was good because today's assignment was to write a short paragraph describing her powers. She didn't want to describe how she was able to create monsters. Would she lie about it, and say that she couldn't? Would she only say that she could see inside their minds? The redhead, on the other hand, had already written her paragraph, which described each power she had that made up her large power. Black magic.
The redhead didn't always like having black magic, but it proved useful sometimes. Isabel had found it useful because part of black magic was bringing monsters to the redhead, and Isabel was able to practice the power of seeing inside their minds. That, and she could resemble the monsters she created after the ones her friend brought. She usually didn't create monsters. Only when it was absolutely necessary. As soon as her arm was bandaged, Isabel sighed and sat down to write her paragraph. Her friend sat beside her, watching as she wrote, which would usually set Isabel on edge, but today, did nothing. Finally, Isabel finished her paragraph, a measly five sentences, and her friend had something to say.
"You didn't say anything about being able to create monsters. Why not?" the redhead asked.
"Because if I did, ye know that they wouldn't want to work with me. Who wants to train the girl that can create monsters?" Isabel answered.
"If they'll work with the girl that has black magic, they'll work with the girl that can create monsters. Besides, being able to create them means you can control them. Put that in there. They are going to find out either way, so you might as well just put it in there," her friend reasoned, and Isabel groaned, adding three small sentences about being able to create monsters.
"Is that better?" Isabel asked, and her friend smiled and nodded, causing Isabel to roll her eyes. Sometimes her friend made her want to laugh. Isabel put her paragraph with her friend's, making sure that they didn't lose either of them. When her friend went to sleep, Isabel stayed up, her insecurities catching up to her. What if they didn't want to work with her? What if they sent her back to Circia? Isabel's friend would never stay here without her, and Isabel knew she could not let that happen. She had promised herself that they weren't going back to Circia. Julie's life depended on her keeping that promise.
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Ciara knew she was rubbing her arm way too much, and that it would attract attention, but whatever adhesive was on the bandage she was using was irritating her skin. She didn't think that the bandage she had used was any different than what she had used in Omaha, but apparently, it was. She met Reid early that morning, who had given her a briefing on what was probably going to happen that day. He was supposed to do it the day before, but they had gotten distracted by the bet that Ciara wouldn't be able to know every element that was on the table. He had nearly gotten her with Element 119, but then she remembered that Element 119 was only a hypothetical element. They hadn't actually discovered that it truly existed yet. However, she did get that ten dollars that he had bet with.
"Are you okay? You keep rubbing your arms," Reid asked, and she nodded, keeping her eyes down. Stupid trees. How had they gotten into her hotel room? That, and she was confused when she woke up. The glass shard she had brought with her had been covered in dried blood, but she didn't remember bringing it out of her bag.
"Yeah, I... I just washed this shirt with a new detergent, and I think I might be having a bit of a reaction to it. I'll make sure that I don't use it again," Ciara lied.
"Do you need me to look at it? I can tell you how to stop the itching," Reid offered, going for her sleeve.
"No!" Ciara pulled her arm back, a little too quickly, and she could see the suspicion on his face. "No, ye don't need to see it. That would require ye touching me, and we both know I don't want that. I've had this happen before. I'm fine, really."
"If you're sure. But hey, in addition to not using that detergent again, you might want to try some over-the-counter cortisone ointments," he suggested.
"Thanks. I'll take that into consideration. Oh, it's nearly 10 o'clock. We should probably go to the round table room," Ciara said, and Reid looked at the clock. "I have an uncanny sense of time. One of my many talents."
"You do seem to have several of them. Alright, let's go." Reid led her back to the round table room, and he took a seat, while she preferred to stand in the corner, head down. She didn't feel like she was part of the team yet, so she wasn't going to sit with them. Instead, she just decided to watch from a distance, try and understand how things worked. While she remembered what Reid had said, hearing it was different than actually seeing and experiencing things. After all, wasn't that exactly what Addie Bundren had said? Words were invented for those who hadn't experienced. That's why Ciara hated being able to remember words so much better than experiences. That, and it seemed that all the experiences she was able to remember were bad ones. Really, really bad ones. Slowly, everyone else in the BAU slowly filtered into the room, JJ being the last one in.
"Alright, we've either got the best case for Ciara to be on or the worst, depending on your point of view. Three girls at a college campus in Massachusetts were all found dead in their dorm rooms," JJ started. Ciara was able to see one reason why it could be either the best or the worst case for her. To her, it didn't really matter. She didn't see a difference. To her, it was just a case. Just some dead girls. Ciara also knew that if any of them knew what she was thinking, they would tell her to go home. Or worse, lock her up.
"Any connection between the three?" Gideon asked.
"None so far, but I'm having Garcia check for any possible connections. They haven't determined the cause of death yet, but all three victims have two small puncture wounds on their chest," JJ kept going.
"Like an arrow or a needle," Ciara whispered, and Hotch asked her to repeat herself. They hadn't heard her. "I said they look like the wound from an arrow or a needle."
"We'll keep that in mind. Good observation," Gideon told her, and Ciara nodded.
"How much time was in between the murders?" Morgan asked.
"Four days. The last murder happened three days ago," JJ answered, and even Ciara knew that meant they had to work quickly.
"Then we've got no time to waste. Let's go to Massachusetts." Ciara agreed with Gideon and grabbed up her bag, which she always seemed to have with her. It had all of her stuff, so why not keep it with her? Marina appeared beside her when they boarded the plane, talking to her about who the killer could be. They both agreed that whoever did it was obviously organized. How else could they pull off such a clean kill? The killer, or Unsub, as Ciara had heard them call the killer, also had to have an understanding of the body. Perhaps an anatomy student? Again, how else could he pull off such a clean kill? Ciara was working under the assumption that it was a male, but she knew full well that it could be a female. She was looking over the file, trying to figure out a connection between the three.
"Alright. First victim, twenty-year-old Ei-leen Mc-Phee. Found in her dorm room, two small puncture wounds in her chest. Second victim, nineteen-year-old Af-rica Mc-Devitt. Killed the same way. Third victim. Niamh..." Ciara was whispering to herself, but Morgan appeared at her shoulder, not touching her, just speaking suddenly. If she hadn't trained herself not to jump, she would have.
"You are the first one of us that's been able to pronounce that third girl's name, did you know that?" he asked, and Ciara shrugged.
"It's Irish. The last names Mc-Phee, Mc-Devitt, and Rea-gan are also... Oh, a connection! They're all Irish. Or, at least, their names are," Ciara realized.
"Brilliant, Ciara! Good observation. Keep up the good work," Morgan told her, nearly patting her on the back, but remembering she didn't like to be touched when she flinched. That's the only time she would flinch, when someone was about to touch her. Reid noticed her sitting by herself at the back of the plane, going over the files. He walked back and sat in the seat across from her.
"Thinking about something?" he asked, and she nodded. "Yeah, the first time usually is bad. We've all thought about how people are able to do this."
"That's not what I'm thinking about. I know that people can do this. I... I know..." She looked out the plane window, feeling her chest contract as the memory began. She could hear Reid asking if she was okay, but she was focused on trying to shut the memory down. She finally made it stop, took a deep breath, and composed herself. "I know people can do this. I'm trying to figure out why these girls. We know that they are Irish, or have Irish names, so what does the Unsub have against the Irish?"
"That's what we have to figure out."
"Whatever the reason, he picked a good place to do his killing."
"Yeah, Massachusetts has the highest Irish population of any state, with 22.5 percent of its population having Irish roots. Are you okay? I know you're Irish. Is this getting to you?" Reid asked, worried about her. He needn't be.
"It's okay. My job right now is to make sure that no more of my people die. That's what I have to focus on right now," Ciara answered, and he nodded, leaving her to her thoughts. She looked out the plane window again, pulling at her sleeves. She had to make sure no one found out about her lack of empathy. Or about the things that had happened in her past. She had nearly let Reid know that something very bad had happened in her past. She wasn't about to make that same mistake again. She looked back at the file, the eyes of three girls that were now dead staring back at her. But the scary thing was... she didn't care that they were now dead. That's what she didn't like about herself. She should feel empathy, considering what happened to her. But instead of adding to her empathy, it seemed that it took it away. Just like most of her emotions were taken away from her at a young age.
"We're landing soon. Reid and Ciara, you two work on victimology. We have to know why these three girls were chosen." Reid nodded, and Ciara looked down again at the pictures, trying to see if there was anything she could have missed. "Morgan, Elle, and Gideon, you go to the crime scene."
"Yes, sir."
"JJ and I will talk to the head of campus police. We have until tomorrow to catch this guy before he kills again," Hotch instructed, and about ten minutes later, they were landing. Ciara didn't really know where she was going, so she followed Reid like a puppy. She was really starting to worry that she was becoming annoying, but right now, it probably didn't matter. They were focusing on why the girls were chosen. Besides the fact that they were Irish, anyway.
"So they're all Irish, but is that the only reason? There has to be a reason that these girls specifically were chosen to die," Reid thought aloud, and Ciara just kept thinking to herself.
"Well, perhaps they were all members of a group? The same sorority, maybe? Wait... no, nevermind, that can't be right..."
"No, no, that actually doesn't sound that bad! A group or a sorority... when the head of campus security gets here, I'll ask if these girls belonged to any sororities. Just what do you think the puncture wounds are? It doesn't look like either of them hit the heart, so what exactly are they for?" Reid wondered, and Ciara thought of something, but just as soon as it had appeared in her mind, it left again, leaving her back at square one. She'd look through her mind later that night and see if she could figure it out.
"I still think that it might be either an arrow or a needle. Like a knitting needle," Ciara repeated, and at that moment, Morgan, Elle, and Gideon came back and joined them.
"So we have a killer who likes to knit?" Morgan asked, slightly laughing.
"How is that funny?" Ciara asked, truly curious. "Sorry, I just don't understand humor. I don't understand a lot of emotions, to be honest. So, what did ye find out?"
"No forced entry. Whoever the killer is, they know him. How else would he be able to get in without forced entry? We asked around, and each night, no one saw anything out of the ordinary. No one was there that shouldn't have been there. So they know the killer. He's part of this campus," Morgan said, and Ciara thought of something.
"I think he might be an anatomy student. Somehow, he knows how to cleanly pull off a murder like this. He knew exactly where to put the arrow or needle or whatever to kill these girls without any blood. My question is, where did all the blood go? Shouldn't it have come out of the wounds?" Ciara wondered aloud, and that got everyone thinking. Morgan pulled out his phone, and while everyone else seemed to know who he was calling, Ciara had no clue.
"Well, hello there, Hot Stuff." Ciara knew that voice. Garcia.
"Behave, Baby Girl, you're on speaker."
"Fine."
"Alright, Oracle, I hope ye have a prophecy for us," Ciara wondered, and Garcia laughed.
"What do you need, my little Trinity? Or would you be Sati?"
"I'd like to say Trin-ity. Anyway, um... Mor-gan has the question."
"Alright, Garcia, I need a list of anatomy students with a criminal record. Think you can get me one?" Morgan asked, and they gave her a few seconds.
"The Oracle has spoken. One hit. Conner Ivers. He was arrested for petty theft when he was fifteen," Garcia answered.
"Thanks, Gar-cia," Ciara thanked.
"No problem, Trinity."
"I really hope that doesn't become my nickname," Ciara said under her breath, and Morgan laughed.
"Don't worry. She'll have a new one for you next time. But I think we need to talk to Connor Ivers," Morgan mentioned, and Ciara shook her head. "You don't think so?"
"Connor Ivers is an Irish name. So, basically, that would mean that we have an Irish male going around killing Irish women, and for what?" Ciara asked.
"That's what we're here for," Reid told her.
"Connor Ivers? Can't be him. He's been on vacation for the past two weeks. Terence Brock, dean of the campus," Ciara looked at the board, taking a break from the floor, as the red-haired man walked in.
"Thanks for meeting with us. Oh, we had a theory. Are these girls all in the same group or sorority or something?" Reid asked, and Ciara noticed he said "we".
"I will look into that. I really want to thank you all for coming down here. We haven't had something this tragic happen in quite a while," Terence said, but Ciara was lost in her thought. What was it about the wounds that was so familiar to her? She just couldn't figure it out. How had there been no blood? As if... as if... And again, as soon as it came to her mind, it left again. She really just wanted to go to the hotel so she could figure it out. But then she remembered that she had to have someone watching her at all times. This was starting to become annoying.
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Finally, that night came, and as soon as Ciara could, she went off to her own room, immediately spreading everything she had out on her bed. She didn't expect anyone to just come in, so she may or may not have taken off her pants already. She seemed to think better when she didn't have pants on. A relaxation thing or something. She had her notebook, laptop, and three books spread out, flipping through pages, trying to think of something. That's when Reid knocked on the door.
"Hey, can I come in?" he asked, and Ciara started to frantically look around for her pants. "Ciara?"
"Give me a minute!" she called out, finding her pants and quickly putting them on, not really noticing anything out of the ordinary. She told him he was welcome, and he came into her room.
"Hey, Ciara, JJ wanted to know if... Hey, uh, Ciara...?"
"Please, hurry this up, I'm trying to figure out why these wounds seem so familiar," Ciara said, not once looking up from her notebook.
"It's just... um..."
"I just can't figure it out..."
"Uh, Ciara, um..."
"Why is there no blood?"
"Ciara!"
"What?"
"Why are your pants on backward?" Ciara looked down, and sure enough, they were.
Holy hell, how did I miss that? Ciara felt the heat rise to her cheeks, and she knew that Reid was struggling to hide his embarrassment, as well.
"Um, I'm just gonna go... I'll be back in five minutes, if that's okay..." Ciara told him it was, and as soon as he shut the door, she fixed her pants and tried everything she could think of to calm her flushed cheeks, but nothing worked. They were still bright red when he came back, but at least his were much the same, meaning she had someone to share her embarrassment with. She began to look through her material again, trying to find a connection.
"You know, they found adhesive around their mouths. Whoever did this duct-taped their mouths," Reid mentioned, but that didn't help her any. She was flipping through Forever Mine when she just happened to land on the page that gave her an answer. She knew the wounds had a familiar vibe to them. She just couldn't figure it out before now. But now she knew. She knew exactly what had happened because a similar fate had met one of her characters.
"Oh, God..."
"What is it? What did you find?"
"I know what happened to those poor girls."
"What?"
"'Ken-neth looked at his victim, looked at Va-nessa, the girl that had tried to keep Cer-a from him. She was pleading, begging him to spare her life. Va-nessa liked to knit, and he was going to use that against her. He held the needle in his hand, and as he raised it higher, ready to strike, her pleading grew worse. He brought it down and stuck it straight into her chest, right into her lung. She screamed, and when he pulled the needle out, it was covered in blood, but no blood came out of the wound. He did the same with the other lung, and soon, the only sound in the air was the sound of her gasping. She was dying one of the most painful, but one of the cleanest, deaths he had ever come up with. There was no blood outside, and she continued to gasp in agony as her lungs filled up with the blood that kept her alive.'" Reid started to recite the passage with her under his breath, and she waited for him to realize what she had realized.
"Okay, so?"
"Reid, I know how those girls died. They drowned in their own blood."
Isn't that just a lovely image? Just a quick note, I'm not sure if a knitting needle to the chest would actually make a person drown in their own blood, but for now, we are going with it. If you do actually know how to make a person drown in their own blood, I'd be happy to hear it. Anything to make this story better. Anyway, Ciara is on her first case! She's also struggling with her first case. While she figured out the cause of death and that all the girls are Irish, she's having an inner struggle with her lack of empathy, or her supposed lack of empathy. Do you think she really lacks empathy, or does she just think she does? I think that will be an interesting struggle. But anyway, the next chapter will have more case solving and Ciara showing one of her, what she will call later, "useless languages". So, yeah...BYE!
"Humankind seems to have an enormous capacity for savagery, for brutality, for lack of empathy, for lack of compassion." -Annie Lennox