LUCAS SILVERMAN , THE DOLLMAKER.
tw: torture , blood , guns , knives.
it all started when christine was hand delivered a body while she was on a date, her first date in ... a while she might add. her name was michelle gavin and she was a twenty-four year old nursing student from virginia. from the beginning, the case left a bad feeling in the agent's gut. the guy had known where to find her after all, carefully staging a scene with flowers as if it would make the discovery less traumatic; tucked beneath a windshield wiper was a note addressed to chris herself proving he knew not only about her but about from who she came as well. maybe it rattled her so much because it was the first time a killer had been so bold, maybe it was the anxiety that prickled every inch of her skin โ leaving every hair standing up, maybe it was because less than twenty-four hours later she was standing over another body.
sara jacobs bared a striking resemblance to michelle who both shared looks with christine herself ( she was ignoring that currently, regulating the feelings to stay as a pit in her stomach for now ). she was twenty-four as well and a research assistant at one of the local colleges in the district. the two bodies they currently had were much too recent and . . . fleshy for her mother's expertise, so, christine had asked cam to take the lead on the examinations. sara had been staged the same way as their first girl sans note. no, this time her smock style dress ( the kind you might see on a child ... or a doll ) had been crudely embroidered across the chest in red thread. a monogram, three simple letters they'd assumed where the victim's initials before they identified her, sent a shiver down the agent's spine when she realized cab could only be applied to one specific thing in this investigation, her.
both women had died from shock following extreme bouts of torture and she'd become increasingly on edge, expecting another body to drop any day now & the fact that it hadn't yet didn't seem to settle her nerves. she'd taken it upon herself to be the one who deep dived into the girls lives, sifting through their emails and schedules and personal journals. an invasion of privacy that one could no longer be offended by is where christine made the first connection, both women had detailed in their writings the feeling of being watched. feeling eyes on them as they walked to their cars, through stores, while they picked up their morning coffees. the first time christine felt eyes on her in the parking garage, she thought it was in her head. she didn't tell anyone, even when it continued over the next two weeks.
two weeks after they found sara, christine was targeted again this time by an unknown number texting her the coordinates to where they'd find the next body. they got a two for one this time. from the looks of it, these two had been earlier victims one of them most likely the first & were later identified as alison & aubrey taylor twins taken from maryland. four women who seemingly had no connection to each other ( minus the sisters ) besides their looks. her work days became never ending, sleeping on the couch of her office more often than her bed. even when she did leave, she slept at her parents house too freaked out to be in her own apartment and on the personal front, the guy she'd rudely had to cut a date short on had been nothing but kind as he called to check in on her. he'd even stopped by to bring her flowers one day, though, if agent booth hadn't been so distracted by work maybe she would've noticed how that familiar red rose stood out against the daisies ( her favorite ) and maybe then she would've looked closer at the bouquet, maybe she would've found the audio bug hidden within.
the break they needed came to her suddenly one day and she was so distracted with rambling off what she could to angela on the phone she never saw the attack coming. blitzed in the parking garage just short of her car, hands too full to have been able to draw her weapon, she woke disoriented & dizzy in a basement of some kind with a throb in her skull almost strong enough to make her vomit. eyes adjust to the darkness enough to know she was in a bare room, sat on what she can only assume was a dingy mattress, free from restraints but locked in. she had only just registered someone else was in the room with her when she felt a pinch in her neck and she was out again.
when she woke the second time she was tied to a chair by her wrists and ankles. the room was brighter & around her were blood stained sheets & tools she can only assume were used on the other four girls. god, what they must have gone through. when her captor finally graced her with his presence, christine was met face to face with who she thought was frank lyons, graduate student, phd candidate, her date from two weeks ago. frank turned out to be lucas silverman from virginia who deemed all women the same as he went on a long winded speech about some girl who rejected him in high school. christine was less than enthused which earned her a split lip, her bored demeanor becoming more snarky as the beating only continued and when he leaned in to ask if she could take it she spit her own blood back in his face. torturing someone who didn't react was only fun for so long, men like lucas got off on hearing their victims scream & chris wouldn't give him the satisfaction of drawing such noises from her. in fact, the only time so much as a whimper left the blonde was when after growing bored of getting nothing from her with his hands, he pulled a knife from his makeshift toolbelt & held it to her collarbone. tilting her head back roughly by her hair, agent booth's features only falter when she felt the blade bite into her skin, but by the time he'd reached the middle of her chest with the intent of going all the way across, chris had schooled her features back into place & mustered enough strength to propel herself forward, her forehead coming in contact with his nose.
as he stumbled backwards cradling his nose & shouting obscenities, christine managed to break through the tape around her wrists & pick up the knife he'd dropped to cut her legs free while his back was turned. her entire body screamed in protest as she moved towards him knife raised and ready to plunge into his shoulder when he whipped around suddenly. too weak to react in a timely manner, he'd managed to disarm her & sent the knife into her abdomen making her the one who stumbled back this time, saved from hitting the concrete floor by the post she backed into. against everything that told her not to, she wrapped a hand around the hilt of the knife and pulled it from her body, gritting her teeth so hard she was afraid they would break as she bit back a groan. at the same time she heard movement above her, she heard a click in front of her and when she looked back at the man, he had her own weapon cocked and pointed at her. she had quite literally brought a knife to a gun fight. swallowing, she knew her odds were bad here, she had one hand pressed to the wound on her side, one raised with the blade in hand, & her entire body was on fire as pain and adrenaline ran through her. she shut her eyes tightly as his finger inched towards the trigger, deciding she'd rather not watch as a bullet came flying towards her.
the shot that rang out came from behind her not in front of her and when her eyes flew open it was in just enough time to see silverman hit the ground unmoving, blood sliding from the bullet wound in his forehead. off to her right, she could see her father & a team of agents take the stairs down to where she was & she couldn't fight the sob that broke past her lips. as relief washed over her so did exhaustion and christine hit her knees, the knife clattering to the ground. ย โ i knew you'd find me. โ she whispered as her father took her into his arms. ย โ i didn't give up because i knew you wouldn't. โ she registered her father's lips on her forehead before exhaustion took over and she was out against his chest.
may i introduce christine's pride & joy , GRETZSKY BOOTH. affectionately named after her favorite hockey player, christine adopted the golden retriever about a year into her fbi career, deciding that even though she was good with a gun & her hands , a little extra protection helped her sleep better at night. on her days off, she & gretzsky do everything together from hiking to drive thrus. entirely spoiled & loved to death, gretzsky is the closest thing christine ever intends to have to a child.
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