"I'm Dr. Spencer Reid. I have an eidetic memory and 3 PhDs. I can read 20,000 words per minute. I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. We profile criminals or unsubs based on their relationships, the crime scene, the dead bodies...anything we...
Plot: After the mysterious mass murder in a five-star hotel in Vegas, Skylar happened to know the man responsible for the murder and tried to protect him during the FBI’s stakeout. Spencer arrived late and Skylar received a near fatal shot.
Status: ONGOING
SKYLAR
Blinding white light. That is what Skylar woke up to. Her brown eyes squinted for a moment before they adjusted to the on slaughter of colours. Her eyes adjusted and focused for a moment before she realised she was staring up at a white ceiling. Her hearing was the next sense to return. The noises had her eyes darting around but she couldn't see much of anything. Her vision was still blurry.
Her body felt like lead, heavy. She was sure she had been a goner after that bullet had pierced her chest. But she had survived miraculously and was now in a hospital. She wondered what had happened since then. Hoe long had it been? The last thing she remembered was Mathieu hovering over her and Spencer running towards them.
Spencer! His name had her immediately snapping out of her dousy state and into awareness. That's when she felt it. The pressure across the throat. Her mouth was covered with a mask. There was something lodged in her throat. Was she on a ventilator?
All coherent thoughts flew out of her head as she panicked. She could vaguely hear a beeping sound going off. Her heart monitor was beeping, indicating that her heart was racing, probably because of the sudden panic. Breathing was difficult for some reason, probably because she was hyperventilating and also because she had a tube stuck down her throat. God, that hurt. And it was definitely not helping.
SPENCER
All the events that unfolded before this very moment flashed into Reid's mind in a blur. All that mattered now was Skylar. Oh god, Sky. She was losing a lot of blood from the gunshot wound. Taking his handkerchief, he quickly maneuver her to a sitting position that would slow the blood flow and made a makeshift bandage on her wound. He picked her up in his arms and rushed to the medical team that was on standby near the hotel. The medical team helped him get Skylar to the ambulance, where he stayed with her the entire time.
Even on the way to the emergency room, Spencer wouldn't let Sky out of his sight. But he knew she needed the medical attention asap. It felt like hours, a heavy drag he felt as he paced, sat, paced again. The feeling of dread wouldn't settle. He said he wouldn't let anything like this happen to her again, but it did. Guilt mixed with worry was driving the doctor to insanity.
By the time the surgery was over, the operating doctor appeared, greeted by Spencer's worried and hopeful eyes. "She's all right, Dr. Reid. We've retrieved the bullet and patched up the wound. Thankfully, no major arteries were hit. We'll be taking her to her room now. She needs some rest."
Reid took the information with a grain of salt and nodded. "Okay." He should feel relieved by now, but he wasn't. He just couldn't possibly forgive himself for that.
He arrived in her room, where some nurses were tending to the tubes and medical equipment connected to Skylar. He blamed himself for Sky's current disposition. The nurses finish their setup and excused themselves, leaving Reid alone with her.
Spencer walked like a ghost and fell on the seat by the bed. He took her hand into his and whispered. "I'm sorry, Sky. I'm so sorry."
SKYLAR
She pretty much had no idea what all had happened since she had since she lost consciousness. She remembered falling in and out of darkness for a while, and she had remembered Reid’s face and then darkness. Until now. White ceiling was the next thing she remembered when she woke in the hospital. And then the panic of not being able to breathe properly. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t feel anything other than the tube down her throat and the pain of the ventilator. God, it hurt. She hadn’t even realized he had been holding it until she clenched her hands.
Her hand clenched down around his and her eyes snapped to the right. She hadn’t seen it before. But he was here. Right next to her. And he was even holding her hand. The thought warmed her heart and her heart monitor picked up as well. She couldn’t believe it. She was alive and he was right next to her. He looked exhausted, as if he had been through hell and back.
But a moment later those thoughts left her mind too as the discomfort of the tube returned. She clenched his hand again, her eyes on his face hoping he’d realize she was awake and call the nurses or even a doctor. Weren’t they supposed to come and check on her anyway if her heart monitor was going off the charts? But they must have assumed she was getting better after the surgery so they probably didn’t think anything of it.
The body lay at her feet, motionless. Lifeless. A pool of blood was slowing down as it had already seeped out from under the body. It trickled in a crimson liquid towards the cracks of the hardwood floor. The bloodied knife fell to the ground, the sharp end poking a small hole into the wooden floor as it clattered down. Her hand lay painted red, splattering up towards her elbow. It was a girl, she looked to be around maybe fifteen or sixteen. She could've been fourteen. Persephone didn't know, didn't understand. How could she? She didn't know how she'd gotten there or why she was there. All she knew was she was the one above the damaged body, her hand trembling. The tremors were the reason she had dropped the knife; the only reason she had noticed it in her grasp.
She was a beautiful young girl. A frame of blonde-white hair, fair skin, and an hour glass figure. All distorted by the holes in her body, the slash on her throat. Light bruises scattered on the pale flesh, black and blue from not being too long ago.
Her body was already cold; it was too late to save her now.
Had Persephone really killed the poor girl?
The redhead’s stomach coiled, she felt sick again. How could she do this, how could she commit such a sick crime? Her vision spun in front of her. She was going to be sick, she needed to leave. But her insides felt tight, she couldn’t breathe. Where was she? Her eyes began to water, was she going to cry? She couldn’t cry. Wait, yes she could. No, she couldn’t. Letting out a groan, her eyes closed. She could smell the metallic scent of the blood, feel the stickiness left over upon her own flesh. She was splattered with it.
Persephone wasn’t going anywhere, how could she? She was too sick to move and the sight of the girl…. Her eyes squeezed shut, trying to take the image out of her mind, but it was burned into her brain. She was the only one there, the only person alive. And she was covered in blood that didn’t belong to her, with no evidence of any of her own injuries. She had done it again and again; it hadn’t been her fault.
But who would believe her?
---
The sirens rang in her ears, growing closer with each passing moment. Persephone still wasn’t moving from her spot, the tears trickling down her cheeks. Someone had called the cops; someone had heard the commotion. Had the girl screamed for mercy, had she begged to not be killed? Probably. And someone had probably heard her.
Persephone didn’t even have time to get away, not that it mattered. She was frozen where she sat when the cops showed up.
The handcuffs were cold against her flesh, the metal links the only sound she could hear over the sudden ringing in her ears. Persephone couldn’t wrap her mind around anything. When had they arrived? She only remembered hearing the sirens. Mouths were moving in front of her, were they speaking to her? She couldn’t understand them; it was as if she had suddenly gone deaf.
The man in the uniform standing in front of her was becoming frustrated, shaking his head in disgust as her lack of cooperation. He spoke to another, ordering him. Persephone’s body was yanked from behind; she was being lead out of the house. It was only then that something stuck with her, words that she had nearly missed from the commanding officer.
“This is exactly like the kills before.”
And the replies given to him were caught up.
“You think she’s the killer?”
“She seems to be in shock, I’m not sure. She could’ve just found her like this.”
“What do we do?”
“What we should’ve done on the second kill. Had it over to the FBI.”
SPENCER
"New case guys, chop chop," Garcia passes by her colleagues and heads to their conference room. Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ got up from their desks and went straight away, but Reid was left behind as he swiftly finished the last ten pages of the book he was reading. He closed the book and caught up to the team in the conference room, settling beside Morgan and Prentiss. Hotch and Rossi arrive, settling in their own seats and Hotch gave Garcia the go signal.
Garcia nods and hands Reid the printed copies of the case. "If everyone would direct their attention to their tablets, meet Angel Dane. 14 years old. White blonde hair. So innocent and beautiful until last night-" Garcia presses a button on her clicker where the severely bloodied crime scene and corpses photographs were flashed on the screen.
"That's one violent unsub," Prentiss comments.
Their technical analyst sighed, "She could have had so much ahead of her." Once Garcia was finished empathizing, she continued with details of the case. "Apparently, the local PD said this isn't their first eekie blood bath murder."
"How come they've only invited us now?" Spencer inquired as he flipped through the pages of the case files.
"The police have reason to believe they have the unsub in custody," Hotch spoke in his calm, authoritative voice.
Rossi adds, "They want us to help confirm their suspicions." The entire team had assumed as much. With that, Hotch dismisses them and they were all bound to Florida.
---
By the time the jet landed, they were immediately off to their designated tasks. JJ and Morgan went to the ME to check on the previous bodies; Prentiss and Rossi got to the crime scene; Hotch and Reid set up shop at the police station. They were greeted by the head detective of the case, Lance Marshall. “Detective, I’m Agent Aaron Hotchner,” Hotch introduced himself and shook his hand, “this is Dr. Spencer Reid.” Reid waved his hand slightly, not particularly inclined to shake hands. “Thank you for coming,” Marshall spoke before leading the way.
“Angel Dane’s body was found with her. Persephone LaFont,” and in a room there was the young girl, she looked older than Angel but she was still young, around her teens maybe.
“What made you consider a suspect?” Spencer asked, even though it was protocol to look at everyone as a probable suspect.
The detective called over one of his officers to get a folder. “This,” he said, handing the folder to Spence. He took it and flipped it open. He and Hotch saw the photographs of the girl wearing heavily blood-stained clothing. “Where are her clothes, detective?” Hotch asked. “It’s being processed. We got her a different set of clothes.” Spencer continued to study the photo of the blood-stained clothes and had a feeling the detectives were right to suspect Persophone. But looking at her through the glass window, he could see her genuine fear and confusion. His brows knotted, there was something off about this, he felt. “I’ll go talk to her,” he said, nodding to Hotch and Marshall before going to the room with the folder in his hands.
“Persephone LaFont, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. I’m going to ask you a few questions.” He kept eye contact with her and sat on the chair across the woman. “How are you?” He began, noting her tense posture and wanting to make her feel calm and a bit eased.
GIA
The tingling started up from her heart and ran straight to her fingers. Till this day she hadn't found a word to describe the feeling. Tingles. Like small fireworks throughout rushing back and forth all the while bursting. That wasn't even it. The feeling wasn't painful so fireworks wouldn't fit but it was odd. A feeling that still haven't become 'normal' after all of these years of random explosives.
Her hand slowly pulled back from the carton of milk she was reaching for. "Why now?" She spoke softly to be sure not to get a reply.
There were many people in the grocery store. Children, elderly, couples. None looked sick or in possible danger but there had to be something. Why did there have to be something? Gia abandoned her cart and walked at a fast pass through the store.
It was hard to be normal with this gift or curse. There seemed to be no escaping it unless she hid in the mountains away from the rest of the world. But that's just not how she'd pictured her life. Isolated with no one. And all because she could save lives with her hands. But she could also take it away just as easily. The scary part was not knowing which would occur. Death or revival.
This wasn't the place. No ones aura in the store was fading. Some were discolored mostly because of sadness of illness but none fading. The hunt was always the worst.
Gia scurried as fast as she could down the busy sidewalk murmuring excuse me's and sorry's all the while examing each and every person. This process, while heightening her senses, caused a throbbing on her left temple that she had noted played a game of hot and cold with her. Throbbing each time she was headed in the wrong direction. "Where are you?" Gia stopped and stood in place for a while before dashing off into the path that seemed the darkest. That was always the right way.
SPENCER
The infiltration didn't go as well as they'd hope. The unsub** got away on foot, and now the FBI along with SWAT was looking for him. They divided into pairs, and Spencer had JJ with him. The two took the east street, shuffling through the possible escapes and hiding places. Progressing through the streets, they come across a crossroad, which forced the two to split up. Unfortunately for Spencer, the unsub was waiting for him. He was quick and efficient on his feet and hands, easily knocking out the gun in Spencer's hand. The unsub pulled out a knife and stabbed Spencer's gut. He pushed Spence with a force so hard to knock him backward. The unsub grabbed Spencer's phone and gun before sprinting away on his feet.
His wound bled heavily, and every attempt he did to move was so painful he winced. He did his best to stay conscious just in case JJ returns. "JJ," he called out to her, but no one replied. Spencer got worried about his partner, so he forced himself on his feet and dragged himself to where JJ went. A hand was on his wound, putting on as much pressure he could to stop the bleeding. He had barely taken a few steps when he sinks down on his knees. His vision was blurring from the loss of blood. He looked to his hands which was covered with a lot of blood and before he knew it, he passed out.
GIA
Gravel. Someone was running extremely fast, her new heightened senses told the story of the possible scenario that occurred. It changed her footing and lead her down one of the paths infront of her.
It wasn't long before she saw a man moving slowly toward her. A blood rich with iron filled her nostrils which caused her to run toward him. Just as he had dropped to his knees she too dropped and eased his head onto her lap. Her eyebrow rose as she eyed the knife. Whomever did this was definitely trying to slow him down. "Okay. You can still hear me right? No it's not weird that my voice is clear considering your state-" She began her usual routine of healing the mind of shock while her hands healed the body. One hand cornered around the knife while the other held it "-Don't worry. You aren't going to die..." Though she did know when he was. Apart of her curse once she touched the blood of the dying.
The knife sat in the craves of her thumb and pointer finger. Soon that area seemed to light up creating a white triangle. The blade was easily pulled from his body and the blood seemed to run in reverse. While she watched the process she began to go over the story in her mind. She could tell the shoes he was wearing. The rate of his heart. Even where the stabber was headed.
"Can you tell me your favorite color?" She asked in a friendly tone as he began to heal with ease.
SPENCER
Spencer was surprised when he heard a voice speak to him. He tried to open his eyes but he was too tired. "JJ, is that you?" He forced the words out of his mouth but they barely came out. All of a sudden the voice became clearer and it definitely was not JJ's.
"You could still hear me, right?" The voice asked. "Yeah," he mumbled slurry."Call for help," he added, but even in his state, he could tell the woman stayed with him. As if she knew what she was doing.
"Can you tell me your favorite color?" She asked and Spencer whispered, "Navy blue." He tried to tune his ears for the sound of police sirens or ambulance but none. Silence. Where is JJ? Did the unsub get to her too? Suddenly he was trying to get up. "Where's JJ?" He said to the woman.
“Agent Hotchner, gather your team. I’ll be giving you your new case,” Chief Strauss tells on the phone to Hotch, the Behavioral Analysis Unit’s head. “Yes, ma’am,” he says and puts the phone down, then leaves his office immediately to call his team.
Once they were settled in the meeting room, Chief Erin Strauss arrives with a man Spencer has never seen before. He looked just about as serious as Strauss was, which was saying a lot. Perhaps Spencer was staring too much, that the man returned his gaze which unnerved him. He forced his attention elsewhere but attuned his ears as Chief Strauss began to speak. “BAU, this is Special Agent Lucius Mikaelson. He will be lending his expertise on this case. Mikaelson, these are agents Hotchner, Dr. Reid, Prentiss, Morgan, Jareau, Rossi, and Garcia,” Erin stops and nods to the last person she named: tech analyst Penelope Garcia.
“All right,” she pressed on her clicker to reveal a dead body on the monitor. “One week ago a Jane Doe was found in an alley by a garbage collector during his shift. The ME report found deep throat slashes, abdominal and genital-area mutilation, removal of internal organs, and progressive facial mutilations. I’m cross-checking with my database for missing persons report in the area which matches her description but so far, no match.”
Spencer studied the photos flashed on the screen and couldn’t help notice...“That MO. Sounds uncannily like Jack the Ripper’s.” He looked to his colleagues, to Erin and Lucius.
“Burlington PD thought it was a one time ordeal, but whoever this psycho was, he couldn’t keep his psychoness to himself,” Garcia shivered and flashed the next set of photos, a different victim with the same violence inflicted on her. “This time she was found in a park by a man walking his dog. He said his pet couldn’t stop barking toward a bush, so he checked it out and bam, dead body.” She shook her head, very displeased about this case.
“His murders are growing more violent. 23 stabs on the first victim, 31 on the second,” Prentiss reads off the details in her tablet.
“Our unsub’s also growing confidence, dumping the body from a secluded area to a public one. He’s evolving,” Derek nods to the team.
“That’s why we need to catch this guy before his timeline also evolves,” Rossi concluded.
Chief Strauss adds, “We’ll catch him faster with Agent Mikaelson’s help. Hotchner, I’ll leave you and your team to it.” With that, Erin leaves the team in the room.
"So, Agent, how exactly will you help us?" Hotch asked the question which was in everyone's mind.
LUCIUS
Aware of the murders happening all across England, Lucius can't take it anymore. He must act before the number of the victims rise. He felt like his own mistake is being smacked over his face as he watches the news about murders done by the culprit that was the result of his careless actions way back in 1814.
Lucius took a guise of a detective in the forensics division with the help of his connections in a secret division in authorities that handles supernatural cases. Lucius, alongside his knaves, insisted to take over the whole case in order to correct his own mistake.
Lucius might be pretending as a detective, it doesn't mean that he has no idea on what he is doing. Back in older times, he took a degree in medicine then in criminology. His knowledge in criminology grew wider when he became a guard then a soldier. Experience wise, he consider himself as am expert as he have solve criminal cases back in oder times.
After the last victim found in the alleys of Whitechapel, where the first Jack the Ripper shed horror; where he slaughtered prostitutes as if they were livestocks. The victim is found bloodless and lifeless inside an alley by a young lass that hid in the crimescene as she is playing hide and seek with her friends, a scream caught her parents and friends' attention and discovered the corpse drenched with previous night's rain as her blood was spilt onto the cobblestones. Her neck is almost chopped off caused by the deep slashes onto her neck, stab wounds are also found on her abdomen, and lacerations over her genital caused by a forceful penetration. In midst of Lucius and his knaves' investigation at the case. Lucius discovered a message written with a knife onto her wrist that says "FiNd...US". Most of his knaves thought that the culprit isn't alone but Lucius thinks differently as he stated that the culprit refers to a place, a country.
Quantico, Virginia...
With a the help of the secret US branch of the supernatural division. After 2 weeks Lucius and the two of his knaves took flight to US to lend his expertise in order to find the responsible for the murders and for Lucius to correct his mistake. His suspicion regarding about the location of the culprit was confirmed when he overheard that there is a killer that does the same modus operandi as the victims from England.
Heading into the BAU office in FBI, he was greeted by a blonde female named Strauss.
"Ser Mikaelson, is it?"
The vampire replied a nod "Perhaps I am." He replied with a blithesome smile before he reached for her hand and planted a soft kiss at back her hand. "I'm enchanted to make an acquaintance,Lady Strauss" he replied in arn arcane manner
"Oohh...We've been expecting you here since I recieved a call from the supernatural division. I'm hoping your expertise help us solve this case."
"I'll do whatever help I can give in this case, Lady Strauss"
"Very well. Let's head into meeting room and meet them, shall we?"
With a smile he nodded and beckoned for Hamige and Mortimer to stay and wait for him.
Arriving at the meeting room, Lucius saw the BAU, he assumed. Ad Strauss introduces him, the emerald hues of his eyes glanced at the people on the other side of the table, he examined them one by one, as they are new faces to him and he'll we with the for quite a while. He nodded at the people being introduced by Strauss to him before the briefing of the case started.
Lucius watched a blonde, with a hispanic surname, opened the slide presentation and revealed the most recent victims of the Jack the Ripper wannabe. He nodded at the young agent's observant remark and he agreed to the raven haired female's comment whilst reading the details onto her tablet that the culprit has gone more violent but inside his head he thought of saying "You should've seen his previous victims"
After the briefing of the case, he watched Strauss left the room, leaving Lucius and The BAU.
"Ser Hotchner, yes? I'm from the forensics division of England and I've been eyeing onto this case for long time until I took over the case and discovered this--" he paused to reach a brown envelope containing images of the previous victim ,and his autopsy report, where the killer left a hint of his whereabouts and handed it to Hotchner.
"Clementine 'Candy' Wyatt, the last victim from England. Same modus operandi and same type of victims, prostitutes. He must have a cheap taste" he remarked humourously before he cleared his throat "If you've noticed, the wound on her wrist formed letters, hinting where he is now and Im right, he's here doing his thing" he added, with his deep voice hinting his thick English accent.
SPENCER
Hotch took the envelope and pulled out the photographs, examining them whilst Mikaelson discussed about the victim.
"The unsub's not local?" Prentiss takes note and Reid's eyes widened at this new piece of information. That would make the geographic profile he'll be working on harder than the usual. Hotch passed the photographs to his team so they can have a look as well. Morgan looked at a photo and read the carved words, "Find...US. This unsub definitely likes the chase." He handed it over to Garcia who gave it over to JJ without even looking at the photos. She says, "So victimology: prostitutes. Why bother to come here to do his dirty work?"
Rossi was next to look at the photos. "Perhaps our unsub wanted a change of scenery," he said before handing the files to Reid.
He was the last have a look at the photographs, and he took a particularly longer amount of time examining them as well. "Agent Mikaelson, you said Wyatt was the unsub's last victim from Englad. That means there's more. How many were they?" he inquired as he studied the photos. "Also same question as JJ, why did he decide to make US his killzone? Does that mean he'll take a few victims here and then go to a different country?"
"We all have our questions and judging from how the unsub works, we don't have much time until his next attack. Burlington PD waiting for us, wheels up in 30," Hotch dismissed his team and Agent Mikaelson, as they all got their go-bags and gathered in the team jet. In less than two hours they arrive in Vermont, where they set to business.
Hotch went to the PD office to coordinate with the sheriff, JJ and Morgan went to the first crime scene, while Rossi and Prentiss checked out the second. Reid was left with Mikaelson to go to the mortuary and take a look at the two victims' bodies and compare them with the victim from England.
LUCIUS
The lacustrine emerald hues of his eyes watched the BAU team take a look with the photographs of the last English victim, whilst he discuss the details on how the victim was found and the reason why he is in a foreign country, lending a helping hand to hunt down the sly Jack the Ripper wanna be.
'Why bother to come here to do his dirty work?' The question repeated into mind..he opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted when a bloke ,with few silvery strands of hair, named Rossi answered. Lucius thought that Rossi is right; maybe to change his scenery... Or maybe just find the English female prostitutes are very easy prey to sate his hunger. Both hunger for nourishment and hunger of a kill. He guessed that the culprit felt pleasure as he swing and stab his knife and thought that America is a good place to pleasure himself. Up for a chase and little challenged. He had imagined the culprit with a grin on his face as his knife digs into the flesh of his defenseless prey. Lucius shook his head to the thought.
Lucius' attention was caught by the young member of the BAU, Dr Reid. "Let's say for the past three years. Once and twice a month there are victims found in many places with the same MO...but I assume that maybe there's more. The missing persons list grows through the years...most of them were prostitutes." He replied.
Once again. Lucius opened his mouth to answer the young doctor's second question but was interrupted by Hotchner who dismissed the team. He watched the BAU team stood and gathered their bags as Lucius remain seated. Lucius is sure that the culprit will take out more victims but moving to other country? He's not sure of it. Before one of the members of BAU step out of the meeting room's threshold the vampire stood up and followed them.
Upon leaving the meeting room. He saw his knaves, Hamige and Mortimer having a cup of tea in the establishment's pantry. He called his knaves and introduced them to Hotchner.
"Ser Hotchner. These are Hamige Hamilton and Dr. Mortimer Chadwick Harlock. Also members of the forensics division, they will also lend their expertise to this case." He introduced as the young former theif nodded with a smile curled at his lips. Mortimer on the other hand just nodded whilst having his cup of tea on his hand.
Lucius and his knaves followed the knave to their jet. Lucius took a seat on a leather upholstered passenger seat and studied the details of the recent victims here in America. A noise was caught by his ear and glanced at its direction. "Hamige, take a seat! You bloody scoundrel." Mortimer told to the only human member of a vampiric group of knaves in his most calm and condescending tone. Lucius glanced ay Hamige whose looling at the jets interior with awe. "Hamige, please. Take a seat" Lucius commanded calmly as Hamige took seat, still looking at the observing the interior of the jet. Lucius glanced at Mortimer.
"He's young. Just understand him."
"Yes sire-- I mean sir."
Lucius smiled and continued his reading. In less two hours in flight. They all gathered and set tasks to each of one of them. Lucius commanded his knaves to join the others to check the crime scenes. He tasked Hamige to join Morgan and Jareau to the first crime scene and Mortimer, along side with Prentiss and Rossi to the second crime scene.
Alongside with Reid. They entered the mortuary then spoke with the undertaker if he found something on the bodice of the victims since he is the first one to take a closer look at the corpses. The mortician found none since he is no expert.
Lucius and Reid took a look at the corpses. All brutally stabbed and sodomised by the culprit. "Now, he is a necrophillic Jack the Ripper wannabe" Lucius remarked as he let out a sigh of disgust. The vampire put on some latex gloves on his pale cold hand and started examining the corpse.
SPENCER
Seeing that the resident mortician found not much helpful insight besides the obvious, Spencer put on a pair of latex gloves as well, like Lucius. “It’s actually not unusual for copycats to arise. Arizona State University and Northeastern Illinois University researchers approximate 20 to 30 percent of killings may cause others to act out in violence. Although it’s been a century and a quarter since Jack the Ripper’s murders, his presence as one of the most popular murderers in the world is bound to inspire a budding killer or two.” There he was, at it again with his fount of knowledge. He had a lot more in mind after reading and having an almost perfect recollection of the related materials, but he decided that like his team mates, Lucius may not want to hear too much babble from him.
He instead focused on examining the latest victim found on US soil. The brutalities were savage and vicious, as if the unsub’s hunger was insatiable. Reid took to the right side of the victim and took her arm, lifting it gently and leaning a bit closer to have a better look of the wounds inflicted on her. The rotten smell of her flesh reeked heavily, but it no longer bother the doctor, as he’d been around this environment more than he wanted.
“Excuse me,” he said while he lifted the cover off of the woman to look over her genitals which, as expected, were heavily brutalized. “Were there any signs of sexual assault from your analysis?” he asked the mortician to which the man replied with a shake of his head. That just proved yet another uncanny similarity to the MO of Jack the Ripper.
“No physical sign of sexual assault, but the level of sodomization using a weapon of sorts is symbolic of our unsub’s hypersexuality.” He began to blurt out what he can tell about the killer based on his behavior of killing. “Despite the close contact the unsub spent with this murder, I don’t see any personal motivation of any kind. He
purely derived sexual pleasure from the attacks, which makes him deadlier the moment his hunger returns.”
Spencer looked over to Lucius and added, “You mentioned earlier that this has been going on for over three years? He doesn’t appear to be devolving, in fact he may even increase his timeline from one or two a month to even more victims. He’s gained so much confidence from his past successes, which will lead to a spree. Hopefully we catch him before another body comes to our attention, but his head is big. He’s bound to make a mistake soon, especially since he’s still getting a feel of the new environment.”
It’s been years since Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid saw each other. Ever since Prentiss left the BAU to handle Interpol’s London office, there hasn’t been many opportunities for them to meet. Interpol was busy dealing with international criminals, BAU was occupied with cases upon cases to solve. They did, however, keep in touch, especially with Garcia’s insistence.
On this particular day, Prentiss was on a day-off and Reid was taking a 1-week vacation. He decided to visit her today, and the two had reunited in the airport.
“Hey Emily,” Spencer smiled and gave his conservative hand wave.
Prentiss returned his smile with a smile of her own and wrapped him in a warm hug, “I missed you too, Reid. And everyone too. How’s the BAU?” She pulled away and looked at his face.
“You know, one psychopath here, a sexual sadist there. Same old, same old,” Spencer shrugged and grinned, which caused Prentiss to laugh.
“Oh come on, doctor. There’s got to be more than that. How about a girlfriend?” She nudged him and wiggled her eyebrows teasingly. All she got in response was a snort and a head shake. “Fine. Let’s get rid of that stiffness of yours and have some British fun,” she said the last two words in her British accent before looping her arm into his. “You’re in luck, you have yourself a free tour guide.”
“Lucky me,” he grinned and allowed Prentiss to lead him out of the airport.
---
Museum of Natural History.
Prentiss had chosen to take Reid there, knowing he would appreciate the displays and begin spurting out his random facts. She admits she found his talkative nature amusing, and she missed that.
Reid had pretty much taken the tour guide role the moment they stepped in the museum. Prentiss had to control herself from laughing too hard at the randomness of Reid’s words, but he was too deep in the displays and the history behind them to notice.
They were on their way to the second floor for the art displays when Prentiss’ phone rang. The people in the museum looked at them sharply and she mouthed her apology before picking up her phone, excusing herself from Reid while he took a look at the paintings.
“Easter, I’m on my day-off. This better be important,” she whispered.
Her boss, Clyde Easter, responded in his unmistakable British accent, “Oh it is, very important Emily.” The graveness in his voice was enough for Prentiss to believe him. “The Prime Minister’s wife is missing and you need to assemble your team asap to find her before he returns from his state visit in Canada.”
“What?” Prentiss controlled her surprise at the news.
“You heard me.”
“Well,” she glanced at Reid who returned her look, “okay. I’m on it.” She ends the call, clearly troubled by the news.
Having known Prentiss for years, Reid could tell something was wrong. He walked toward her, meeting her halfway. The look on his face was full of concern, that Emily sighed. “It’s bad.”
“How bad?”
Prentiss looked around, grabbing Reid’s hand, leading themselves to more secluded area in the museum. “Prime Minister’s wife is missing,” she mumbled under her breath.
“What?? How’s that possible? Mary Fleur is one of the most protected first ladies in the world. Five personal guards, 2-”
“I know, Reid,” she interrupted him and sighed, “I’m sorry.”
Spencer checked his phone for today’s date. “Well, I am on a week-long vacation. Perhaps I could help.” He looked at her encouragingly.
Emily shook her head. “No, I can’t possibly-”
“Hey,” it was his turn to cut off her words. He looked her in the eyes. “I want to help.”
Prentiss gave a small smile, knowing she couldn’t stop Reid even if she wanted to. Besides, she could use all the help she can get. “All right, but we need to keep this under the radar. Got it?”
Spencer grinned and nodded. Emily nods as well, and the two friends left in a rush to Interpol’s London Office.
JAKE
It was practically more the light of the screen of the laptop, than the light, which shined through the curtains that lightened the room. Yes, it had been a long night, hence Jake really could’ve slept all day to catch up on the rest that he needed. It had been a tiring week and it wasn’t even over yet. But unfortunately, he had the habit to not be able to really fall asleep once more after waking once, so he had eventually stood up. Now making his way from the kitchen back over into his office room - he could go around in his apartment with blindfolds and wouldn’t even bump against something – and placed the cup onto the desk. Tea. Was there anything better? Well, for sure. But sometimes it really appeared to be one of the best things on this earth. Especially to calm tensed nerves and soothe oneself.
Pulling his eyebrows together a bit in a concentrated expression, the brunet male glanced onto the screen, which now showed the finally loaded website, while he positioned himself onto the revolving chair. Going by the newest rumours, there had been a quite big deal. Though it was still too new for the young man to actually know what it was about. Apparently, it was still held back from the public, what only confirmed anyone’s concern, or better interest, in those circles that it indeed was of important proportions. Jake wouldn’t actually care much about it. If one of his contacts wouldn’t have asked him if he had to do with it.
“No. How come you would think so?” Jake had asked back, frowning upon being enquired in that matter. He had been far too busy with another job recently - get informations for another client in order to carry out his job, as well as collecting details about the motifs of this one - to think of doing anything else. But the other man had immediately tried to get rid of him. “Never mind. It wouldn’t have been your style” he had only answered and then had come back on another topic, keeping the rest of the conversation short. Since the connection wouldn’t be available any more, he couldn’t have made a call back to ask further. Nor had he actually cared. Until he had heard more of this gossip.
What he did now, was basically try to find out more. What it was about and why someone would think that he had to do with it. That, on the other hand, was a lot harder than his current work on the other part. And the news? They had only their own speculation of why the Prime Minister’s wife was missing. Or that was, what Jake deduced from what they said on the news. Because there wasn’t much that he could find out on his own, nor could he ask around without drawing attention onto himself.
Hence he clicked back onto the other tab, his mail account, to type off a new one. An informational one that he would intend to send to the editor. But once done with writing it and finding the right wording, so that it was impersonal, he hesitated. After thinking it over once more, he had to admit that it was probably too early. He couldn’t afford anyone to get too close, but in all honesty, it would be more suspicious if he would send this mail. Jake used both hands to rub his face briefly, before folding his hand in front of his face, his index fingers brushing his lips lightly. It took one or two minutes, in which he remained in that position and looked onto the screen. Then he got up. He had to get out, maybe for a cigarette, but above all to get his head clear. There were too many questions in his mind. Like, how long had this been going already? Had anyone already found some evidence?
With his tea remaining almost untouched, the male got outside, just pulling his coat over and only taking his mobile and a packet of cigarettes, along with a lighter, with him. Once outside, he didn’t waste much time to open the packet and lit himself the first. It was a bad habit that usually only came back in those hectic times or if he was trying to figure something out. Now, this new rumour. When letting out the first pull, he leant back against the wall, since it was lightly raining and in that way, he could still stay under the roof.
SPENCER
After passing the security check, Spencer was allowed in Interpol London Office with Prentiss. "Sorry about that," she said before handing the visitor ID card to him. "Nah, it was just protocol," he said as he hung it around his neck. Emily also clipped her own ID by the edge of her shirt. The two went inside were a huge screen and perhaps a hundred agents were there, busy working. Spencer can't help be in awe of Interpol's vastness. And to think his pal was the head of this office. He was impressed.
The two reach Prentiss' personal space in the building, which overlooked the other agents below working. Clyde Easter was there as well as three other agents: a petite blonde woman named Cathy Martin, dressed in a red blazer and skirt; a lean mean buff guy named Kennedy Leithold, whose jawline was so sharp it could seemingly cut; and a man with horn-rimmed glasses named Tim Thompkins, who was scribbling fiercely against the white board.
"Emily, I see you've brought a friend. Nice to see you again, Doctor," Clyde said with a grin, which Spencer replied with, "I wish I could say the same." Emily nudged Spence before she introduced his BAU pal to the other agents in the room and vice versa. Once the folks have gotten acquainted, they're immediately down to business.
"16 hours ago, Mary Fleur was last seen leaving their house along with her usual security detail," Clyde began, flashing the camera footage of the said departure onto the screen. "Three hours later, the vehicle was found abandoned a good 50 miles away, opposite of Mrs. Fleur's supposed destination-"
Spencer cut in, "Which is?"
"-a friend's birthday, at the Delacroix Restaurant. The news was kept quiet and they tried to fix things internally, without outsider help."
"But they know they couldn't do it alone," Prentiss nodded, understanding how the case lead into her hands.
"Exactly," Clyde said. "I want the four of you-" then he saw Spencer and corrected himself, "I mean, the five of you, to work on this nice and quick. Now if you'll excuse me, the news had reached the public and the Prime Minister's men are requesting help for damage control." With that said, Clyde Easter leaves the five agents in the room.
"Do we have any lead?" Prentiss inquired in her boss tone. On cue, Agent Martin began distributing folders to everyone in the room. "Thompkins has been skimming through the Darknet and he managed to hear in whispers of the man they suspect of this dirty work. Plenty of names, but one particular guy who goes by 'Snake' caught Thompkins attention." The blonde looked over to Tim to hand the table to him, but he was still busy scribbling on the board.
"Earth to Four Eyes," Leithold spoke for the first time, his voice was unsurprisingly rough and rustic as he called Tim. "Ah, yes. I'm sorry." Spencer had actually been watching what Tim had written on the board, and it was a very smart algorithm to use in their current case. He was tempted to ask how Tim came up with it, but Emily must've read his mind and shook her head.
"Whoever this Snake guy is," Tim said, "I don't think he did it. Someone's trying to frame him."
Martin wondered, "What makes you say so?"
"I've been hearing about Snake and the other names on the list all the time. It just doesn't match his MO," Four Eyes shook his head.
"Do we at least know who Snake really is?" Prentiss' hand was on her waist while the other held the folder. Meanwhile Spencer kept rereading through the files while paying attention.
Tim sighed, "No we don't, boss. All I know is he frequents London, and he's our only lead to finding the real kidnapper."
"It's Phantom, isn't it?" Spencer looked to Tim.
Leithold's eyes widened. "Who now?"
"Phantom. It's the pseudoname of our unknown subject."
"We don't have much time," Martin ignored Leithold and looked to everyone else. "How are we supposed to find either of them if hiding's what they're good at in the first place?"
"Oh, that's simple. I've sent an email to Snake, I'm just hoping he'll agree to meet up with a prospective client," Time spoke as if it were really that easy.
Emily was surprised, "You know his email? Couldn't you trace that instead?"
"I can't, sorry," Tim shrugged before returning back to his board of computations.
"So what, we just wait for this Snake guy to reply?" Spencer asked Emily in a low voice.
Enily looked around her team and sighed, "I guess we don't really have a choice."
--- email to Snake ---
To: Snake<***@***.***>
Subject: Job Offer
Sender: <unknown>
I'm looking into your business and I'm interested to avail of your services. I'm willing to pay £ 100,000 for it if you'll be able to meet me in the afternoon. Your choice of meeting place.
Jarmila stood in the dark and damp alleyway, hazel eyes wide as she stared at the corpse before her. She looked down at herself and gasped softly when she found her clothes and hands drenched with blood still warm and sticky to the touch.
The young Asian woman stepped away and soon fell to her rear as she began screaming hysterically while she tried to wipe off the blood from her body.
A passerby heard her shrieking and stopped at the alley to see Jarmila sobbing and shaking weakly on the dirty floor. He was about to offer her assistance when he found a corpse with a slit throat right before the young woman. In his state of panic, he quickly retreated from the alley and immediately dialed for 911, informing them of the crime he witnessed.
SPENCER
The Behavioral Analysis Unit had just finished solving a massacre in the state of New York. Chief Inspector Saunders of the NYPD was just giving his thanks to the team when one of his deputies came bursting through his office. "Sir, there's just been a murder at 21 Angel Street downtown. Caller said there was a witness. A team has been dispatched and the witness, she's being held at the hospital. They're checking if she's all right."
The chief was clearly agitated by the news, causing his smile to turn into a grim expression. "Saunders. Our flight's not due until tomorrow. If you want, my team can have a look to assess the situation," Agent Hotchner, the BAU's leader spoke as he offered his help to the frustrated NYPD chief. The man turned to Hotch then to his team and nodded in desperation. "I could use all the help I can get."
"Good," Hotch replied and looked to his team. "Morgan and Prentiss, go to the crime scene and find out what you can. JJ, control the press. New York's just gotten through a massacre, they don't need another reason to be panicked. Rossi and Reid, go to the hospital and interview the witness. We'll need all the information we can get. I'll stay here and help Saunders manage his task force."
Reid glanced outside of Saunders' office and saw that the entire PD reflected their chief's agitation. "All right then. Let's wrap up this murder quick so we can all get our sleep," Rossi said, as the team separated to do their designated tasks.
---
The two men arrived at the hospital and inquired at the desk help for the room of the witness. A nurse lead them to her room, and there sat a young Asian who had been cleaned up well, but there was still minute traces of blood in some places. One look at her and Reid could see she was genuinely troubled. "Hi, my name's Dr.Reid, this is Agent Rossi. We're from the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?"
JARMILA
One minute she was screaming her lungs out. The second she saw total darkness before waking up a few moments later only to see herself in a room with IV tubes sticking into her arm and now dressed in a clean hospital scrub.
She found a mirror to her left and saw small cuts and bruises decorating her face and neck as well as specks of stubborn, dry blood stuck to some parts of her skin. Oh how of a mess she looked like.
Jarmila gasped softly when she heard the door clicked open and came in were two men, obviously looking like they are part of the authority or something. She felt panic take over her for a minute as she scooted back in her bed, bringing her blanket over herself.
"I.. I..." she stuttered as she tried to force herself to talk. These two men seemed kind however she still had her doubts. The young woman sighed softly before shaking her head and soon lowered her head, lips pursed into a straight line.
SPENCER
“Don’t worry, you’re safe here. Whoever did this can’t hurt you anymore,” Rossi’s father-like tone attempts to comfort the witness. Reid, on the other hand stepped away for the meantime, looking at the result of the woman’s ME. The nurse told him what they had gathered, “She managed to put up one hell of a fight, her cuts and bruises tell just as much.”
Spencer nods, “Did she tell you what her name is?”
The nurse shook her head, “She kept stuttering, we can barely make out what she wants to say.”
“But she understands English?”
“Yes. She was pretty shook up and tired, she’ll need all the rest she can get. Go easy on her.”
“We will,” he replies and rejoins his colleague.
Rossi looks at Reid and the two exchange a silent conversation. Spencer takes the lead, “Let’s start with your name. Your family must be worried, and we can tell them that you’re safe.” The men studied her with concern, yet Reid finds something particularly unsettling about her body language.
JARMILA
Family? Instantly, she felt a wave of panic wash over her and she began shaking her head while muttering soft pleads towards the two officers.
"N-No family! Don't tell them anything!! Please!" Jarmila felt tears swell in her eyes as she leaned forward and practically knelt on the bed, head lowered with her hands intertwined in locks of ebony hair while her body curled in on itself.
The young woman began sobbing softly into the mattress while her body shook from her weak state. She slowly lifted her head to meet the eyes of the two officers as tears glistened her pale features. She hesitantly crooked two fingers by the collar of her scrub and pulled down, exposing pale skin written with scars that looked like they lasted for a while now along with large bruises along her collarbone. Showing her deformity to the two men resulted in her doubling over and wept silently into the white sheets of her bed.
"If.." she began with a horrible rasp in her throat. "If you tell them... they'll hurt me.. like how that man hurt me..!"
SPENCER
The nurse was just outside the room when she heard her unnamed patient cry. She returns inside, giving Rossi and Reid distasteful stares. "Sirs, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. I have strict orders from the doctor not to stress out this woman after what she had just gone through," she says.
"Just five more minutes. Please. If we're going to catch the guy who did this, she can help us," Rossi reasoned out to the nurse. She, in return, after taking a look at the witness's vitals and checking if she's okay, nodded to the two men. "Five minutes and you're out."
"Yes, thank you," Reid grinned slightly before shifting his attention back to the girl. He let Rossi take the lead.
"All right, dear. We won't tell your family," Rossi sat beside her while Spencer stood in front of the girl with concern and slight suspicion. He checked his phone where Garcia, their tech analyst, texted that there was no match for the woman or the dead man in her database.
'Are you telling us that the man who did this was sent by your family?' Reid had thought to ask later, quite curious of what went down as quite a fight. His other colleagues were already examining the crime scene and the dead body found. Meanwhile, he and Rossi will do a cognitive exercise with the witness. Hopefully they'd have time to spare for his question.
Rossi spoke in a gentle voice, "If you don't want to tell us your name it's fine. But we want you to do something for us so we can help you. It's called a cognitive exercise. It allows our brains to remember details we don't normally pay attention to. Just relax, take a deep breath and close your eyes. Let's go back to the alleyway. Where were you before you ended up there?"
JARMILA
"I.. I was.." Jarmila groaned weakly as she rubbed her temples, feeling light headed after her breakdown earlier. She shook her head from the throbbing pain before looking up at Spencer with a small frown. "To tell you the truth I'm embarrassed to tell you this.. but.. I was at a bar with some friends. Well.. friends don't quite make the cut. More like acquaintances from college who decided to take me out for a few drinks."
The young woman sighed as she gripped her scrubs tightly before continuing. "I don't know.. maybe a couple of drinks? I'm a light weight.. and then this guy came up to me and offered me a ride home.. I was so stupid. I shouldn't have listened to him and strayed from my college mates..." She choked slightly on her words as she forced herself to talk while fighting back tears. "The next thing I knew.. I passed out and then woke up covered in blood. I-I don't know who it belongs to but it stank and it was everywhere! I could still smell it.."
Jarmila placed her head in her hands as she tried to regulate her breathing when panic slowly took over her once again. "Tell me.. did I kill him? Am I going to jail..?!"
SPENCER
The woman’s tone sounded genuine. Spencer paid attention to all the details she mentioned. “We don’t know that yet,” Rossi replied simply, ‘but you’ve been very helpful, miss..?” Rossi looked straight in the woman’s eyes, hoping to gain her trust to tell even just her name.
Just then, the nurse arrived, knocking at the door. “Time’s up agents,” she said. Rossi sighed, and pulled out a calling card from his vest. “If ever there’s anything else you remember, even the slightest detail, please call us. It could be very helpful. Thank you.” Rossi got up and the both of them grinned slightly before leaving the room.
“I think she’s holding back,” Reid said while they were walking. “Could be from trauma,” Rossi shrugged, ”or could be our unsub. I can’t tell.” “Me neither,” he agreed before getting his phone to call Garcia.
“Garcia’s the name and 411’s the game,” the bubbly technical analyst replied. “Hey, Garcia. Can you check the nearest colleges to the bar in a 10-mile radius. Then check for a student who’s missed her classes today and matches the description of our unnamed woman.” “Ooh, I like how you think. Hit you back when I have something. Garcia out.” The phone call ends, and the two hop into their vehicle to rejoin the rest of team.
JARMILA
"Where is she?!" A gruff voice echoed from the hallway. Several whines and cusses could be heard as frantic footsteps neared the Asian woman's room. A man with short, dark hair and unkempt beard halted before the two inspectors from his run. He briefly glanced between the two men with a worried look before slipping past them and towards the hospital room.
"Excuse me.." he whispered to them both as he passed them before closing the door behind him. A loud voice sounded muffled from behind hospital walls before silence engulfed the whole room. After a few moments of silence, faint sounds of whisperings filled the silent air before a long, audible sigh could be heard.
The room was silent once more before the door clicked open and the same man from before exited, a calmer expression on his face as he gave a soft sigh.
"That stupid girl..."
SPENCER
“How’s she doing?” The team’s head, Agent Hotchner asked his fellow agents Rossi and Reid, who had just returned from their trip to the hospital.
---
After a brutal murder had happened with a sole survivor, the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit was quickly called into action. Their usual approach was divide-and-conquer. So while Rossi and Reid were asking about her recollection of what happened, Hotch and JJ were left at the local PD dealing with the press and the families of the victims. Prentiss and Morgan were looking into the autopsy report by the medical examiner. Garcia was back at the main office at the BAU, working her ass off to supply the team any information she can scavenge in the world wide web.
---
“Nothing about her sticks out to me,” Rossi said, then glanced at the young doctor, “although I think my partner has a different opinion. Tell us what you think, kid.”
Spencer looked at the two seniorities of the team and replied bluntly, “I don’t know what I think. She displayed unusual behavior for someone who just underwent a traumatizing experience.”
“What’s unusual about a woman who can hardly speak or trust anyone, and did her best to cooperate?” Rossi retorts.
“The fact that she convinced you of her performance makes me think she’s used to lying and pretending,” Spencer replied and hit the phone. “Garcia?” he said.
A single beep from the phone was followed by the bright, bubbly voice of Penelope Garcia. “Right here, Reid. I’ve got some juicy info for ya.”
I’ve done some digging on little miss victim and it turns out- well, actually it doesn’t. There are no matches for our mystery girl in /any/ of my databases!” She sounded very bothered by her findings, and Reid was too. Garcia is the queen of hacking and databases; he was really hoping she would find even just the college the girl was referring.
“No social media account at all?”
“Yes! There wasn’t any! If she really was a college partying last night, I could’ve seen her online pics but I came up empty. Nada. Zero. Zilch.”
This information was surprising to everyone, except for Spencer. He had a feeling this woman would be good at hiding her tracks. "Widen your search parameters to neighboring states and get back to us if you find anything. Also, I want you to check with the immigration documents, going as far as 6 months."
"I don't know what you're up to, doc, but I'm on it!! Garcia out!" The tech analyst hangs up, leaving the team all curiously looking at Reid.
"What are you seeing that we aren't, kid?" Rossi inquired.
The doctor walked toward their corkboard where the evidence lined up. He took a moment before replying, "I'm not sure yet, but when I find the answers to support my theory, I'll tell. For now, let's focus on what Morgan and Prentiss found from the dead victim."
The team nodded in agreement, as they began to listen to Morgan and Prentiss.
“How big do Great Pyrenees get? Declan found a puppy abandoned in the gutter on the way home from school, now my kids want to keep it. They’ve named it Edelweiss.”
“It depends. If it’s a male its height ranges from 70–82 cm, but if it’s a female 65–74 cm. And hey, that’s a nice name. Edelweiss: a European mountain plant that has woolly white bracts around its small flowers and downy gray-green leaves.”
What were the odds. Each time she was in the States, something went wrong. It was not always anything major. Just some small things here and there. The only two times she had had anything bad happen to her was both murder. Not hers of course. People she knew.
The first time had been over 6 months ago. She was visiting a friend in New York. She was staying with her at her place. It had been only a few days since she had arrived when it happened. They had gone lubing one night. Her friend had gone back into an alley to smoke after a while, leaving Sky inside to dance by herself. It had been a while and she never came back. Sky had gone back to find her. The alley was empty. Nothing. Just her purse let in a corner, her friend missing. She had alerted the police but needed to wait a minimum of 24 hours before she could report her missing. 24 hours had come and gone. And yet no sign of her friend. Finally, the police had taken her statement.
Few days went by before they found her. Or rather her corpse. She was left in a ditch by the side of the road just outside New York. Skylar had made her identification. That is when she had met him. Dr Spencer Reid. He was young FBI agent. She had been impressed. Someone so young, working such a job. And he was smart. Very smart. She had spoken to him. About her friend. He was interesting. She liked it. They had exchanged email Ids, even though it was against protocol for him. They had kept in touch even when she was back in London.
The second time, was another murder. She had been at a bar where a friend of a friend worked. Just another trip to New York. She was trying not to think about the last time she had been there 6 months ago. Her friend had offered to take her out to a bar where another friend worked. Unfortunately she had had to leave half way. Skylar had been left with this 'new' friend. Skylar hadn't noticed anything unusual until the girl when out to drop some trash and never came back inside. Minutes passed. Finally Skylar had gone back to look for her. No sign of her in the alley. Just the bags. No. It couldn't be happening again. Could it?
She had been terrified. She needed help. Someone. Anyone. His face had flashed across her mind. Yes. Reid. Before she knew it, she had hailed a cab and was on her way to the airport. She had called up her friend to say the other one was gone. Missing maybe she didn't know. Alert the police.
She was on a flight to Quantico before she knew it. And before no time, in front of the building where he worked. Would they let her in? She needed to see him. The only other person she knew on this coast. Thankfully, they had let her in with an ID check. He was out, it seemed. On a case. She would wait. No matter the time. She sat on one of the chairs. The guard told her he'd send Dr Reid right over when he came back.
Skylar had no idea what to do or say if and when he did come back. She had flown in without warning. But she was terrified. A little. And he was the only one she knew here now.
SPENCER
Every year, Marymount University holds a job opportunities seminar for the Criminal Justice majors. On this particular day, the FBI had tasked Dr. Spencer Reid alone to represent his department, the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He was usually accompanied by another team member, so this was surprised.
"I'm sorry, Chief Strauss, are you sure about that?" Spencer asked his boss.
Chief Erin Strauss replied with a nod, "Agent Hotchner said you're ready."
'Hotch vouched for me?' He looked rather puzzled but accepted the task. "Okay, ma'am. I'll do my best." With that, Spencer was off to Marymount.
---
Reid was pretty sure he was doing a god-awful job. As an FBI profiler, he could very well read body language. Right now, all he saw was a group of college students - with eyes that screamed, 'Just get this over with' - barely paying attention to the words he'd spoken. It made him pause and rethink his strategy. 'What would Morgan do?' A question he often asked in social situations. He backed up on his speech, this time using the particular wording his pal would have used. "Crime rates continue to increase and the general population's fear grows along with it. That's why we come in the picture. We want those people, those families to feel safe again, and to get the justice they deserve. We at the Behavioral Analysis Unit, we study what we call the unsub or unknown subject. For example..."
He finished delivering his promotional speech, and was surprised the students were more enthusiastic, asking him significant questions. He was just about to entertain a third question when his phone rang. "Garcia?" He excused himself from the crowd, walking outside the symposium room.
"Hey, sweetie," their technical analyst's voice fills his ear, "there's a pretty brunette waiting for you here at the office."
"I'm sorry?" Reid was clearly surprised, confused even. If this was some prank Garcia's pulling before telling that there's a case he needs to go to, then it's working.
"I'm serious, Reid. A woman named Skylar Nott claims she knows you. What do I tell her?"
Ah. That pretty brunette. With an eidetic memory like his the recall was instant. "Uhm okay, tell her I'll be there in 10."
He bid his goodbye to the folks from Marymount due to the personal matter, but gave them his contact information in case they wish to ask more questions. He left the university and was back at Quantico by 7.
Spencer was fidgety on his way up. He and Skylar had stayed in touch for some time, but this surprise visit was different. There must be something wrong.
The elevator opens and he heads to his office desk, where Skylar was waiting. "Skylar, hey," he grinned, "This is unexpected." Spencer was known for being very frank. "What brings you here?"
SKYLAR
Skylar was sitting on one of the chair couches in the waiting area. She had been offered a cup of coffee by a kind blonde woman. She had later asked for her name. Garcia. She had thanked her as she took a sip of her coffee while waiting.
Her mind was in a huge thinking frenzy. She was beginning to think maybe this wasn't the best idea. She wasn't even sure if it was the same thing. For all she knew, the second girl had just left or something. But in that moment, she had been reminded of her friend's murder. It had spooked her.
Her eyes glanced to the door when it opened, revealing Spencer. She stood up, putting the cup down on the desk as he walked up to her. "Spencer. I didn't know what else to do." She said as she played with her fingers nervously.
"It happened again. I was in New York. Again. She went missing. Just like Tina. "She said referring to the first murder. She knew he'd remember. "In an alley. She went out and never came back in." She rambled. " It may not be related at all but it spooked me and you were the only other person I knew here." she said and stopped to catch her breathe.
SPENCER
Spencer sat from across Skylar and listened to what she had to say. His forehead creased at the mention of last year's encounter. He nods, remembering every detail as if the case was just yesterday. He licked his lips in thought, "Are you sure?" He'd already explained to her in the messages they had exchanged how the BAU weren't allowed involvement in cases unless the local PDs ask for their assistance. More than that, there was another variable in the equation: Skylar was emotionally attached to her friend, and now that a similar situation presented itself, she was certain to have her bias. If anything, Spencer was a man of science and she knew that. They had nothing to go with to pursue this case but her gut feeling.
SKYLAR
"No I am not." She replied when he asked whether she was sure or not. "I don't know. But I know the similarities. Both brunettes. Both in their early 20s. Both taken from back alleys behind a bar. And both their belongings left in the alley. And within 6 months." She said as she looked over at him. "I don't even know if there is a connection. But it spooked me. And. I needed someone. And you were the only other person I know here." She said.
She had been taken back to the day her friend had gone missing 6 months ago. She was very emotional at the moment, that was certain. But she knew there was more to it than her emotional response. She wouldn't prove it, but she knew this missing woman again, wasn't a coincidence. But what ever the odds. She and Spencer had exchanged emails over time, and he had explained how his department worked. He couldn't get involved until he was called. But she had to tell him what she thought anyway.
"And Tina was found 3 days later. If this is the same, I couldn't not do anything." She said finally.
SPENCER
He'd expected her to reply exactly what she did. Spencer had come across people like Skylar too often— he himself had a similar phase regarding the death of a friend. But it had never influenced his objectivity; he refused to acknowledge his emotions in such ordeals. "If it really is the same unsub, there's no doubt about the victimology," he nods.
Morgan and Prentiss arrive at the office. Seeing Spencer with a girl they probably don't recall, Morgan's teasing smirk was instant. "Hey pretty boy." Spencer ignored him, continuing his conversation with Skylar.
"Listen Skylar, I know how hard it must have been to lose Tina. I really do. And as much as I want to help, I can't. My hands are tied. Besides, how long has your other friend been missing? There's really not much for us to go on here." Spencer didn't like how he was putting off a friend who needed his help, which resulted to him putting on an apologetic grin.
It was Rossi who arrived next, calling out to Spencer, "Reid, Hotch wants us in the meeting room. New case."
"I'll be right there," Spencer said and looked over to his friend. "Look, I can try asking my boss if we could look over the case but for the meantime, I don't encourage you to get your hopes up." He knew he wasn't the most comforting person to go to, much more talk to. Add to that was his lack of skill to emphathize without being too awkward. He gets up and pats her shoulder before walking to the meeting room where everyone else had already assembled.
SKYLAR
She listened carefully to what he had to say. She chewed on her lower lips as she nodded. She understood what he was saying. It was true. There wasn't much to go on. Just her word. "I understand." She said after a moment. "You are probably right. Maybe it's just my mind. Maybe I am over thinking this." She said with a nod.
Her eyes lifted to the door as two new people entered. A man and a woman. Skylar assumed they were part of his team by the way the man teased Spencer. It wasn't a moment later than another man called out to him. Ah. He needed to work.
"I understand. Thank you for listening to me,Reid. Anyone else would have thought I was just crazy." She said as she gave him a small smile while he stood up to go to his meeting. She gave him a wave as she vanished.
She should probably leave and check into a hotel. It was getting late. She grabbed the coffee mug that she had previously abandoned and took a sip. She'd finish it and go. She could text him later. Just then her phone chimed and she dug into her purse to check it.
SPENCER
Once the team had assembled, Garcia began to present the case to them. “Tina Foster. 21 years old. Went missing 6 months ago after excusing herself for a smoke. Her friend reported her missing immediately but the police couldn’t take action until the first 24 hours have passed. 3 days after Tina’s disappearance, her body was found dumped in a ditch. Ugh,” she reacted in disgust to the crime scene while she pressed her controller that flashed the pictures on the screen.
“Yesterday, Molly Walker went missing,” Garcia showed the photo of the second victim, “and Detective Sprout thinks it’s the same guy because-”
“-she disappeared in an secluded area outside a bar,” Spencer chimed in, finishing the details as he was very familiar with them. "Same victimology as the first victim. White female. Brunette. Early twenties. Possibly the same MO given the method of abduction," he concludes his statement.
"Yes. Exactly, Reid." Garcia managed to look surprised with how much he knew about the case. "I was just talking to Skylar, the friend that reported Tina missing and eventually identified the corpse. She had a feeling they were connected too," he looked to the team, then to Garcia as she finally pieced it together.
“Ooh! The girl who was looking for you! So that’s why she looked familiar.” Reid gave a small grin to their Tech Analyst, before Hotch finally announced, “If our unsub plans to stick to his schedule, we have less than 36 hours to find Molly. Wheels up in 30.” The team is dismissed, and Spencer hurriedly pulled out his phone to inform Skylar that she was right, and his team was on its way to find her friend.
SKYLAR
After quickly finishing the coffee, Skylar stood up. She found a small paper and wrote a 'Thank You for listening to me.' and place it on Reid's desk. She left the building, hailing a cab and heading to a nearby hotel to spend the night. On the way to the hotel, her phone had chimed. It was her friend in New York. Surprisingly the police had taken her statement about Molly's disappearance almost immediately after she had approached them. Now they wanted to talk to her as well. With Molly gone for only 8 hours, something felt out of place to Skylar. She had told the driver to change directions and head for the airport instead.
Didn't they usually wait 24 hours? They had made her wait that much last time. Did they change their policy? Or did someone unusual happen?
She was pondering things over in her head when a call snapped her out of her trance. She glanced down at the screen and was surprised to see his name flash across it. "Reid?" She asked as she picked up the phone. Maybe she had forgotten something in his office?
She almost missed what he was saying due to his rapid talking. Her eyes widened slightly as she finally realized what he had said. "You are? That's amazing! Thank you for much Reid. I am heading to the airport to get a flight back to New York. The Police want my statement as well." She said as the cab halted in front of the airport.
SPENCER
Spencer knew Skylar couldn’t see him, but he was smiling. “Don’t thank me just yet. We still need to find your friend and our time’s running short. It would help if you’d come by NYPD’s office so me or one of the team can ask you some questions about both disappearances though.”
“And Skylar,” he paused, unsure if he should tell her his theory. He knew it was too early in the investigation to rush to conclusions so he chose not to, instead opting for a, “be careful, okay?” Satisfied with her response, he ends the call and grabs his go-bag, heading straight to the airport to reunite with his team.
---
“Garcia, what have you got so far?” Hotch asks.
The eyes of the team were on the screen where Garcia’s video feed was on. “Tina Foster was not a local. She is from London, taking a vacation with a few friends, Spencer’s friend Skylar included. I checked her social media accounts, she posted photos and status updates from time to time but she was very good at handling her privacy settings and careful about her posts. Nothing to indicate that the unsub would know where to find her.”
“Molly Walker. Been in New York for most of her life, just graduated with a degree in Psychology. She worked part-time in a bar in New York. She didn’t need to, but she chose to finish one last shift while meeting Skylar. It didn’t end as well as she hoped.”
JJ nods, “In both cases, Skylar was always present.”
Spencer looked at JJ oddly, wondering why she brought that up as if Skylar was a suspect, but apparently everyone else had the same thing in mind. Garcia pulled up her research on Skylar, “Same as our first victim, Skylar is from London. There’s really not much I can tell from what I found,” which Reid felt certain Garcia was saying for his sake, “so I just sent everything in your tablets.
“Thanks Garcia,” Rossi bid farewell to their tech analyst. Hotch began dividing the team into individual tasks. “Morgan and JJ, go check the recent abduction site. Rossi and Prentiss, victimology. There must be something more than physical appearances to connect the two, that is if we’re dealing with the same unsub. Reid and I will set up shop.” The jet arrives in New York and they were all off to work.
---
Rossi, Prentiss, Reid and Hotch were greeted by Detective Polly, the man who suspected the two abductions might be related. “Agent Hotchner, thank you for coming,” Polly said and shook Hotch’s hand. “Detective Polly, this is Agent Rossi, Agent Prentiss and Dr. Reid.”
The two shook hands, but Spence waved his greeting to the detective. “Where can we set up?” he asked
“Right this way,” Detective Polly leads the profilers into a room. “Oh, that girl, Skylar. She’s waiting for you in my office, doctor.”
“Okay, let’s go-” Hotch puts a hand on Reid.
“Reid, a word?” Hotch looks to Detective Polly. “Tell Ms. Nott we’ll be with her in a few.” Once Polly had left the office, Hotch was onto Reid.
“I know you think I should consider her as a suspect. I do, but I don’t think she’s the unsub, Hotch.”
Hotch asked, “How can you be sure?”
“I’ll help Rossi and Prentiss with the victimology. I think the answer’s in there somewhere.”
Hotch nods, “Okay Reid, I’ll go talk to her.”
“Thanks Hotch,” Spencer grinned before joining Rossi and Prentiss in digging through the files.
SKYLAR
“I will come by as soon as I land” She replied. “And I will. Don’t worry” She said softly. There was something in his voice. Something that she couldn’t place. Maybe he was just concerned since she had travelled so much in the past few hours.
Skylar paid the cab driver as she got out and then headed inside the airport. She brought a ticket back to New York on the first flight available. After landing, she was picked up by her other friend Rebecca. Rebecca had already been questioned by the police and didn’t need to go back in. For now. Rebecca had been the one to introduce Skylar to Molly. But Rebecca didn’t know much since she had left the bar long before Molly had gone missing. Skylar went back to Rebecca’s apartment to freshen up. She hadn’t been in a house for the past whole day or more. Not since Molly had vanished. Sky had first gone to Quantico and now was back in New York. She took a quick bath, changed her clothes and drank a cup of coffee to keep herself awake before heading out to meet with the detectives that had called her in.
Rebecca had graciously offered to drop her to the police station. She had been grateful. She was honestly too tired to travel by cabs or subs. The whole event had been tiring and nerve wrecking. She thanked Rebecca as she got out of the car.
She headed into the station. She was greeted by a detective named Polly as soon as she had given her name to one of the officers. He had asked her to wait in his office while the FBI set up. They could be with her soon. She had agreed and taken her place in a chair in the office. She texted Rebecca telling her not to wait and go home instead as this could take a while.
Had she been alone in all this, she would have been a mess. But she knew Spencer and that was one thing that helped keep her calm. He wouldn’t lie to her. Or so she hoped. But he did have rules and regulations to follow. He obviously couldn’t tell her how the investigated was going or would go. But something was better than nothing. His team was here and were looking for Molly.
SPENCER
Prentiss and Rossi dug through the files while Reid set up the New York map on the board and began working on his geographic profile. Hotch had already left his team and went to Polly's office, where Skylar was waiting. "Skylar Nott? I'm Agent Aaron Hotchner with the FBI. We'd like to ask you about the disappearances of your two friends, so we can make sure if we're dealing with the same unsub."
He took a seat from across her before continuing. "Let's start with Molly Walker. How did the two of you meet?" Hotch gave her time to answer and tell him about what happened the day Molly went missing. He nods and takes note of the minute details she mentions. "When the two of you were in the bar, did you notice anyone or anything in particular that stood out?" He lets her finish her answer until he was satisfied with it.
"6 months ago Tina Foster went missing. Similar place, in a bar, she was taken when she went outside. Can you tell me what happened before that?"
---
"There's really not much for me to go on here," Spencer said as he finished pushing a pin to the bar where Molly went missing. The pins were color-coded, red for Molly, blue for Tina. Judging from the other places they first visited the day they were taken to the places Molly frequented in New York as well as the dump site for Tina, there was no determinable comfort zone or pattern to it. At least, nothing he could see right now.
"Not much here either," Prentiss chimed in as she flipped through a file. "I'll check on Garcia in case she has better luck that us." She called their tech analyst, "Garcia, you're on speaker."
SKYLAR
Skylar had been waiting in Detective Polly's office when someone waited in. She immediately stood up to greet him. After a brief hand shake, she sat back down. She looked over at the new detective, Hotchner as he took a seat opposite her. " I was introduced to Molly by a mutual friend. Rebecca Smith. She came in earlier for questioning. Rebecca and I were going to spend the evening together but she got a unexpected call and had to go back to work for a while. She didn't want to leave me alone so she took me to a bar near her house where Molly worked. She introduced us and told Molly to entertain me for a while till she came back from work. She wouldn't be long she said." Skylar narrated.
"I don't think so. It was loud. We had to practically yell over the music to hear each other. I was sitting on a chair near where she was bar tending. She would come over once in a while to chat when she was free. There were a lot of people. It was noisy. Talking, Laughing. Nothing different than a usual bar." She recounted.
"Tina and I are from London. We came 6 months ago for a vacation. We were coming to meet Rebecca then as well. We were staying at a hotel. The Plaza. We usually spend the days sightseeing and the evenings with Rebecca. One evening Becca was busy so we decided to go to a bar. Tina was really excited." She said with a small smile. " She had wanted to go since the beginning but we hadn't had the time. It was just a normal bar. Nothing unusual." She said with a sigh. "I am sorry if that wasn't much of a help."
She paused for a moment before she spoke again. " Wait.. I don't know if it is something but I do remember the distinct feeling of being watched, that someone was watching us. It was almost like a chill. But I suppose that is common in a bar isn't it?" She asked as she looked over at Agent Hotchner.
SPENCER
“Hello my dear friends, I bear not-so good news, but not-so bad either,” Garcia’s voice echoed from the speaker.
“What did you find?” Reid inquired.
“I looked through their credit card records, phone activity, online activity, you name it. Zilch. Nothing out of the ordinary comes out. Both girls spent on what any other girl would. They post photos online every now and then, and there were no unknown callers or any suspicious phone activity that would suggest our unsub made contact or threatened them. Same for their emails. Squeaky clean. No history of crimes either. These girls are angels and the only thing connecting the two of them is that they’re friends.”
“Keep looking. There must be something to connect these two more than the obvious,” Prentiss spoke.
Garcia said, “Will do, my loves. I’ll keep looking.”
Spencer’s forehead creased, “Thanks Garcia,” and the call ends. He walked back to the board were the map was set up and he continued to study it, looking for something unusual.
---
Hotch listened and nodded, “It does help, Skylar,” he grinned. “Did Rebecca return like she said she would?” The question nagged in his head. The last part she mentioned though, it would be hard to consider if it was Skylar’s gut feeling telling her or just paranoia since both her friends are gone. “Was it only just in the bar you felt that?” Hotch decided she might be onto something, since if it were her guts on the work, then chances are her guys were right and she might be the next victim. He wasn’t about to let that happen, and surely Spencer would feel the same way.
"It's our guy," Hotch came in the room, catching the attention of the team as he grabbed the remote control. He turned on the TV and the team watched as news of a-
"Brutal murder with a notable fetish for the neck," Reid said it along with the reporter, then nodding to Hotch, "Yeah, that's definitely our unsub."
"The public is alarmed by the sudden death in their neighborhood. Speculations and hearsays from various parties say that this may well be the work of the Neck Slicer." Click. The TV was off and the team was ready to listen to their leader.
Hotch began, "Garcia, what have you got so far?"
Garcia, the techie of the team, replied, "I did a little digging and similar to the cases we had before, the unsub will be out of the country in 12 hours."
"So we only have 12 hours 'til we catch this guy," Rossi stated the obvious.
Hotch nods gravely to his co-worker. "All right, listen up. Prentiss and Morgan, go to the latest crime scene. Garcia, try to narrow your list down. Reid, work on the geographical profile of the previous cases and try to see if there is a pattern. JJ, hold a press conference. We don't want to raise panic in the public. Tell them we have yet to confirm if this is our unsub. Rossi and I will talk to the victim's families." Hotch dismisses the team and they were off to their designated tasks.
---
Reid began to set up a map of US and began to place red pins into all the crime scenes tied to the unsub. After his board was setup, he took a few minutes studying the map if there was a pattern to the killing. He'd reviewed countless times the interval of the killings and so far, time was not significant for this unsub. Looking at the map now, he could tell location wasn't either. All he could tell was the unsub had killed more in the western part rather than the eastern. His eyebrows furrow in focus, and he tapped his chin, "There's something wrong," he said. Out of the blue, Garcia enters the room, "If you mean slishy slashing people's throats after beating and poking them, then I totally agree with you, doctor."
"No, not that. I think... I think we're not dealing with a serial killer. Garcia, can you pull up the photos of the victims?" He got up from his seat and walked toward the screen.
Garcia didn't flinch as her fingers flew on her keyboard. "Showing now." Enter. Fourteen faces filled the screen. "Now, tell me, in terms of victimology, does the unsub have a type?"
She glanced at the photos. "Blonde waitress, 19. Female secretary, mid-50s. Police and father, 34. If there's a pattern, I'm not seeing it," Garcia shook her head.
"Exactly. And do they have any known connection or affiliation?"
"Zippo."
"What does that tell us?"
Garcia stared at Reid, "Reid, we don't have time on our side here. Get to the point."
"Our unsub's a contract killer."
"You mean-"
"Yes," Reid grabs his phone, "And I think I know where he's planning to go." Reid calls Hotch and tells him his theory.
ARSYN
Ripped faded jeans, white loose top, pair of white sneakers, whether she was dressed simply or not, she was still a head-turner. While holding her Louis Vitton bag as she walked in the airport, she sighed for she noticed some eyes on her. For a second, she was gone in the sea of people.
She ignored the female flight stewardess who greeted her as she board in the plane. She sighed in relief when her back finally touched her first-class seat. The sun was bidding goodbye to the clouds as she stared at it through the window. Scenes from last night flashed in her mind – the brunette chose to walk on her way to her suite, when a man in mid-forties harassed her. He was trying to force himself to her. He followed her to the low class hotel apartment nearby. Arsyn’s agenda in Venice was pleasure, not business. With a woman with short temper, she didn’t think twice of killing the lustful man. She hung him in the ceiling fan using his own belt and his blood splashed all over the room after she sliced his throat. She was taken away from her reverie when a young man jumped on the seat next to her. Her brows furrowed because she bought the seats next to her so no one would sit on them. She scanned him as he fixed his luggage. She couldn’t help but admire his beauty and she shamelessly watched him since a pair of Prada sunnies were covering her grey doll eyes. She cleared her throat when he caught her looking. “Are you sure this is your seat?” the light shone on the highlights of her braided hair.
SPENCER
"...He's going to the airport. Based on Garcia's records, I know which flight too." Spencer moved swiftly, hailing a cab. "I'm going, I'm just 15 minutes away."
"Reid, no. Wait for backup. Morgan and Prentiss are nearby. You can't go after this man alone. He is highly skilled and dangerous." Hotch's tone was slightly raised and stern, bidding Reid of his command.
"I can do this, Hotch. And we don't have time on our hands." Spencer tells the driver to go to the nearest airport.
"If this unsub's leaving the country, it's not under our jurisdiction anymore."
"I know, that's why I had Garcia purchase me a ticket online. I also just filed a paper for a vacation leave starting," he glanced at his wristwatch, "this very moment."
"Reid, don't-" Bleep. Spencer hung up on his boss and paid the driver, before getting out with his bags, walking toward the sea of people in the airport.
---
He found the plane and hurried to make it on board. "Sir, your ticket." "Yes, hold on," he felt his pocket and showed it to the woman along with his passport. The woman nods, handing his documents back to him and gestures Reid to get in, "Enjoy your flight sir." "Yeah, thanks." He was immediately on board, where his eyes quickly scan the crowd. I could nail this guy I know it, he thought as he walked at the aisle, looking at each and everyone of the passengers.
"Sir, you need to take a seat. We're about to take off."
"Wait-"
"Sir, please take a seat."
Spencer frowned and fell to a vacant seat beside a woman. He knew this wasn't his seat, but the stewardess was bossy and impatient, Reid had no choice. The woman beside him asked the very question, which he replied, "Oh I'm sure it isn't. Mine's 3 more seats behind but-" he looked at the stewardess who returned his look with a glare. That made Spencer grin slightly, "The stewardess might kick me off the flight if I continue wandering around."
ARSYN
Arsyn followed his gaze and the stewardess was lucky for she couldn't see Arsyn's deadly glare behind her Prada glasses. Her eyes shifted to the man beside her and she snickered slightly. She was on vacation, vacay means relaxing so she didn't bother arguing with him.
The pilot signaled that the plain is taking off and it lit up the 'seatbelt on' logo. Meanwhile, he's still busy fixing his luggage awkwardly. It made her chuckle which was very rare for Arsyn. She took her glasses off. She leaned on to him close enough to smell his alluring manly scent. Her breath unconscously fanned his cheek. Her grey big eyes were piercing through his. The plane took off as the lady leaned back to her seat. The man could feel something tight around his waist -- she put on her seatbelt. "You're welcome." She said as she shut her eyes.
SPENCER
The woman beside him was acting weird, Spencer thought once he'd put his stuff in the compartment overhead. He'd finally settled on his seat, but his eyes continued to scan the plane's passengers. He was looking for a match to their profile: white male, in his late 20s to 40s, can easily blend in the crowd and doesn't attract attention. Highly organized so probably has a job that requires the same amount of organization, like running a business. Very mobile and physically fit to be capable of inflicting such beatings and torture.
"Hm?" Spencer glanced at the woman who was off to snooze, then he noticed the seatbelt she had put on him. "Right," he nods, "thanks," and he returns to observing the behavior of the men who fit their profile. If he works fast enough, he'd have the perpetrator in cuffs by the time they arrive at the plane's destination.
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