Isabel and her friend sat in the room that lacked a door and windows. Isabel knew that as soon as they had figured out what they were supposed to do, the room would open up and they'd be able to escape. But first, they had to figure out what they were doing. Suddenly, a notebook appeared, and Isabel knew what she had to do. They were to fight the monster that she was to create, but she didn't want to. She hated creating monsters, but she knew her friend could take it down. She sighed and grabbed the pen that appeared with the notebook, and as soon as she put the pen on the paper, an outline of a monster began to form in the real world. This was how she created monsters. She placed the pen on the paper, and her thoughts created them. She hoped maybe one day she could bypass the paper and pen altogether.
"Woah, Isabel, stop, stop! I don't think I can do this!" Isabel opened her eyes and looked at the monster before her. How had she thought this beast up? She looked into the monster's blood red eyes before her eyes traveled to the many tentacles that all ended with clubs and spikes and all sorts of terrible weapons. Its teeth were like daggers and they were dripping in blood as if it had just finished devouring its last meal. It was long and spindly, and utterly terrifying.
"How did I...?" Isabel began to wonder, but her thought was cut off when the monster lunged at them, both girls barely avoiding one of its clubs.
"It doesn't matter how you did it! Just get inside that thing's mind! Tell me what to do!" her friend instructed, and Isabel nodded, closing her eyes, seeing inside the blackness of the monster's mind. It really had no thoughts, except to attack the two girls. Next time she was going to see if she could create monsters with a specific purpose. For now, she saw that the monster was going to turn its back on her friend, going to attack Isabel with its spikes.
"Hit the back of its head with fire as soon as it turns its back to ye!" Isabel commanded, and when the plan went off without a hitch, the monster roared, and while Isabel saw one thing, what ended up happening was something completely different. That was the bad thing. Isabel might be able to see into their minds, but that doesn't mean that what's going on inside of their mind was what was actually going to happen. The monster wrapped one of the tentacles with short spikes around Isabel's arm, the spikes digging into the flesh. It was the opposite arm, so now both of her arms were injured and would be bandaged.
"Isabel!" her friend cried, and shot two straight fireballs at the monster. One hit its face, the other hit Isabel's arm, the one that already was bandaged. The monster screamed when the one fireball hit its face, and Isabel managed to break one of the spikes off of its arm, and when the monster let go of Isabel, she put the spike in its heart. She continued to fall as the monster let out a dying scream, and the last thing she heard before she hit the ground was her friend screaming her name.
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Ciara rubbed her eyes, exhausted after her nightmare had left her unable to go back to sleep. Who could after seeing a monster like the one that had been created in that dream? She yawned as she looked at the small marker board where they had pinned up everything they knew. There was no one else there, and she had one moment of thinking about this case without anybody else there. She could talk to herself without having to watch what she said. Without having to worry about revealing her lack of empathy. She had a bandage on the other arm now, but she didn't remember where it had come from. All she remembered from last night was realizing how the girls died, and then Reid leaving. She didn't remember what happened after that. Then she decided to sneak away from the hotel and get a little alone time. Would she get in trouble if Hotch found out that she was doing something on her own? Maybe someone else would get there before he did. She thought about everything that happened yesterday. She had watched the team give their profile but hadn't participated. She wasn't going to speak in front of that many people.
"Ciara, since when have you been here?" She didn't turn around, but she knew the voice belonged to Reid.
"Ah, not long. Did ye just come to watch me?" she asked.
"Well, um, a-actually..." he stammered, and she knew that meant yes. She rubbed her eyes again, and she knew that whatever happened last night, she hadn't gotten much sleep, even before the nightmare had woken her. "Listen, Ciara, are you really okay? Isn't this case getting to you, just a little bit?"
"No. It's not, and it won't. I want to go talk to the friends of these girls. Do ye think they'll let me do that?"
"Are you sure you're going to be able to? I mean... you were barely able to talk when we first met," he mentioned, and she knew that he was right. But someone would be with her, right? Right? Hotch did say she wasn't to do anything case-related without someone watching her. She looked over the pictures of the girls, still feeling nothing in relation to the fact that they were dead. She zoned out a little bit, and by the time that she had come back to reality, everyone else was there, and she was glad that she came back to reality because if she hadn't, she would have missed what she was about to do next.
"Morgan, you and Ciara go talk to some of the friends of the victims," Hotch instructed, and Ciara nodded, still facing the board. As soon as everyone else had their instructions, Ciara followed Morgan to the dorms, to where Bevin Reilly was. On the way there, Morgan decided to talk to her. She was a little upset that she didn't get to say that she had figured out the drowning in their blood, but Reid assured her on her way out that he would tell them about it, and he said he would make sure that they knew that she was the one that figured it out.
"So, do you think this is something you could do every day? Is this something you could dedicate your life to?"
"I think so. I haven't had anything else to dedicate it to. It's nice to know that I can actually do something with my life. Does that make sense?" Ciara asked.
"Yeah, I get that. But you seem to be holding up well. How is this not getting to you?" he asked.
"I have my ways. But anyway. Be-vin Rei-lly. 21. She's majoring in Special Education. Room 102," Ciara read from the paper, and while she felt like Morgan was getting a little suspicious about her, she knew that what she said earlier was true. She really was glad to have something to dedicate her life to. Finally. Before, all she had was writing. She wasn't saying that she was going to give up writing. She loved writing. Speaking of which, she remembered that she needed to begin outlining either the sequel for Forever Mine or the new story she wanted to work on. She wasn't sure which she was going to work on first. They got to Room 102, and Morgan knocked on the door. Soon enough, a pale girl with red hair, green eyes, and a face full of freckles answered the door. A stereotypical Irish girl.
"Hello! Who exactly are ye?" Bevin Reilly wondered. Ciara could easily hear what people called an "Irish accent". To her, she didn't have an accent. To her, there was no such thing as an Irish accent. To Ciara, it was everyone else that had an accent. Not her.
"Are you Bevin Reilly?" Morgan asked, and the girl nodded. "I'm Agent Derek Morgan from the FBI, and this is..."
"I-I'm... I'm Ci-ara Byrne," Ciara introduced (or stammered) for Morgan, knowing he wasn't quite sure what to call her.
"Ciara Byrne. Ye have a good Irish name. I like it. Doesn't it mean 'dark haired raven'?" Bevin asked, and Ciara nodded. "Ciara" meant "dark-haired", and "Byrne" meant "raven". Ciara loved her name, because she had darker hair, and ravens were supposed to smart, so it fit her perfectly.
"Bevin, can we ask you a few questions?" Morgan asked, and Bevin sighed and invited them in.
"This is about Africa, Eileen, and Niamh, isn't it?" Bevin asked, and Morgan and Ciara both nodded. "So, Ciara, how old are ye? Ye look too young to be with the FBI."
"Oh, she's actually not a part of the FBI."
"Then why is she here?"
"I'm, um... let's say... I guess ye might say I-I'm job shadowing?" Ciara stammered, keeping her eyes on the floor. She usually never looked away from the floor.
"Job shadowing for the FBI at yer age? I wish I had yer life," Bevin said, and under her breath, Ciara said that there was no way in hell that Bevin wanted her life. No one would ever want to have Ciara's life. Ciara didn't want to have her own life. Although, this part was alright. The only time of her life that had ever been alright was since she left that apartment in Omaha. How long ago was that? Three days? Four days? Well, actually... there was another part of her life that was okay. But she barely remembered it. She was so young at the time.
"Bevin, did the three victims have any enemies? Any reasons that they would be targeted?" Morgan asked, and Bevin shook her head.
"No, and don't call them victims. Please, call them by their names. Africa, Eileen, and Niamh were good girls. All A's, never partied, never drank or smoke, they were always nice to everyone. No one would ever...But someone did hurt them, didn't they? Do ye have any ideas who it might be? Please, just catch him and put those girls' souls at peace," Bevin asked, and Ciara thought she heard something different in Bevin's voice. She looked up, and Bevin's eyes were closed, tears were coming down her face. Was she crying? Why? She didn't understand why Bevin was crying. She thought again that it was good that Morgan couldn't hear her thought. Although, she might still ask why Bevin was crying.
"I hate to tell you this, but we think it might be someone you know. Someone on this campus. Can you think of anybody that might be capable of doing this? Someone who has something against the Irish?" Morgan asked, and Bevin choked on a sob. Seriously, why was she crying? Ciara just couldn't figure it out.
"No, no, there's no one. Please, those girls were like my sisters. They were my un-biological sisters," Bevin cried. Ciara started to look around and noticed something. She found a picture with a bunch of girls in green shirts. She found Bevin, Niamh, Africa, and Eileen quickly, and noticed that each shirt was the same, with some Greek symbols on them. A sorority.
"I know this is hard, but..."
"Did ye say they were yer un-biological sisters?" Ciara asked, and through the corner of her eyes, Ciara saw Bevin nod. "As in, members of a sorority? Were ye all in the same sorority?"
"Yeah, we were. Without those three, there's eleven of us. We only let girls with at least 50 percent Irish blood in, ye know," Bevin mentioned, and Ciara knew they were on to something.
"Bevin, has there been a girl that wanted into your sorority, but you wouldn't let her join?" Morgan asked, and Bevin shook her head, cutting the thread as soon as they had started to pull on it. That left them back at square one. "Okay. Be careful, and if you see anything odd, tell campus police. Stay safe, Bevin."
"I will. Please find whoever is doing this to my sisters."
"We will," Ciara assured, and Ciara left the dorm with Morgan, looking back at the list to find out who they needed to talk to next.
"So what have we figured out? That they were all part of the same sorority?" Morgan thought, and Ciara nodded.
"But that means that we can narrow down this list some. Only the ones that are in that sorority are potential victims. They are the ones we need to talk to. Right?" Ciara asked, and he nodded. "Okay... I should have asked the names of those other girls. I guess we'll have to take a chance. Next girl, Sio-fra Mitch-ell. Room 106. 20. She's majoring in Agriculture." It was only a few steps before they were at Room 106. Morgan knocked on the door again, but this time, no one answered.
"Sio-fra Mitch-ell?" Ciara called from the other side, but no one answered. Ciara wondered why Siofra wasn't answering.
"Step back," Morgan told her, and she did, covering her ears and closing her eyes. She could hear him kicking the door open, and took a moment before uncovering her ears and opening her eyes.
"We could have gotten a key, ye know."
"I like my way better." Ciara rolled her eyes and walked into the room. "Damn." Ciara heard Morgan curse under his breath, and she dared look up and saw what he was cursing about. On the bed in the dorm room was Siofra Mitchell, and her open, staring eyes were unseeing. She was dead. But... they should have had all day! Why did the Unsub kill early this morning? She also noticed that Siofra wasn't killed the exact same way. The two small puncture wounds were there, but in addition to that, there was one, deep, thick gash across her stomach. The duct tape was still on her mouth, and Ciara could tell that she had just died a little bit ago. The blood on her stomach was still warm. They just barely missed her death. Perhaps she had even died when they were talking to Bevin. Morgan stepped out of the room to call Hotch and tell him what had happened, and Ciara stayed in the room, looking for a sign of who had been there. She looked around, and on the wall, saw something she hadn't ever thought she would see.
"Mor-gan, come here. Ye need to see this," she called out, and while she pulled out her phone to take a picture of what she was seeing, he came back in and stood by her side, seeing what she saw.
"I don't even know what language that's in. I can't pronounce any of those words," he said. Ciara knew what it said.
"It's one of my useless languages," Ciara whispered.
"Useless languages?"
"Yeah, I learned three... wait, no, four... languages that I didn't think I would ever use. This is one of those," Ciara responded, before reading the first line. "Deir siad go bhfuil uisce thicker ná fuil."
"The only words I got out of that are 'thicker' and 'go'. What language even is this?" Morgan asked.
"It's Irish. I learned it because that's where I'm from. The fourth one that I remembered was Scottish Gaelic. They are different. The first line says, 'They say that water is thicker than blood.' Hmm. I wonder what that is supposed to mean?" Ciara asked.
"We can figure out what that means in a minute. Read the next two lines," Morgan instructed.
"Alright. Gur cailín báite in uisce. That girl drowned in water. Mar sin, beidh siad ag bháthadh i fuil. So, they will drown in blood," she read. "Well, isn't that great? 'They say that blood is thicker than water. That girl drowned in water, so they will drown in blood.'"
"Ciara, you are a genius."
"Do ye say that often?"
"Only to Reid," Morgan responded, and Ciara knew she should have guessed that. "Alright, come on, Ciara. Let's get back to the others. We need to tell them about this and talk to Garcia." Ciara nodded, letting her eyes fall to the ground again, and when they were heading back to join the others, Ciara decided to ask something that she knew would completely blow her cover, but she just needed to know.
"Mor-gan, why was Be-vin crying?" she asked, knowing she sounded like a child version of herself when she asked.
"What do you mean, why was she crying? She just lost three- now four- of her best friends. She lost four girls that she considered sisters. Don't you understand that?" Morgan wondered, and she shook her head.
"I don't understand."
"Okay, I'm started to wonder if you even care that four girls are dead. You didn't even blink when we found the fourth girl. Do you even care, Ciara?"
"I don't know."
"Well, you'd better get to figuring it out. You don't want Hotch and Gideon to know about this," Morgan warned her, and she nodded. Ten minutes later, she was asked to repeat just what had happened.
"Well, I saw the writing on the wall, I saw that it was Irish, so I translated it. 'They say blood is thicker than water. That girl drowned in water, so they will drown in blood.' Now we are here," Ciara answered, not saying anything about her asking why Bevin was crying.
"'That girl drowned in water.' Get Garcia on the line," Hotch instructed, and Morgan called her up.
"You have contacted the Goddess of Ultimate Knowledge. Speak now or forever hold your peace," Garcia said as soon as she answered the phone.
"Does she always answer the phone like this?" Ciara asked, and Reid nodded.
"Alright, Dollface, I need you to work some magic for me. I need you to get me a list of any girls that drowned in the last year in the state of Massachusetts," Morgan asked.
"That is really wide. Mind narrowing it down a bit? Because right now, you've got a nice long list," Garcia told him.
"College age. So, 19 to 25. Let's go with that. Does that help?"
"Now you're talking. I've got one closest to your location. Orla Foley, 21. Drowned three weeks ago when her sorority took a trip to a water park," Garcia told them. Gideon said something about how that was the stressor, but Ciara wasn't quite sure what that meant.
"Orla Foley is an Irish name. Did Orla have a brother?" Ciara asked, and she heard typing.
"Yes, a twin brother named Kelan. He actually goes to that college," Garcia answered.
"What's his major?"
"Anatomy."
"Thanks, Gar-cia."
"No problem, Trinity."
"I thought she'd have a different nickname for me?" Ciara asked Morgan, who laughed. She didn't know how that was funny. "Okay. I think we need to talk to Ke-lan Fo-ley."
I think they do. So, that's that. The question of this chapter: is Kelan the Unsub? And Morgan is starting to realize that Ciara isn't really like them. That she doesn't have empathy. Also, what if Ciara has some trouble with Kelan, being Irish and all? I think she might. *cough* *cough* Anyway, you guys remember Marina? Want to see her in a different environment, without Ciara? And in each of the beginning parts, remember when Isabel talks about Camille and Julie? Yeah... So anyway, if you want to meet these three girls, they are all in my new story coming out on Friday! Look out for their story, "Schism"! But now that I'm done promoting my other story, the next chapter of this story is going to be fun. Or, it might be, depending on your version of fun. Anyway...BYE!
"He whom the gods love dies young, while he is in health, has his senses, and his judgment's sound." -Plautus