Okay so I have this idea for a pretty dark-ish fic (with a happy ending, don't worry) but I have no idea if I would ever actually write it. I just need to get this idea bug out of my head and onto "paper."
TW and tags: major character injury, cult-like activities, blood, some gore (not in too much detail, just mentioned), major plot twists, guns, Spencer Reid WHUMP. Minor Hotchreid, Rossi as a good dad, protective Morgan, cursing, and an ambiguous ending (for this post, since I'm just posting the idea for a fic).
All of it's under the cut! Let me know what you think?
So, the plot: Part of the team goes to the middle-of-nowhere (either in the "deep south" or up in the northern mountains of Montana or Washington, near the Canadian border) to help solve a string of disappearances that someone uncovered, linking them all to that central location (either an outside source or perhaps one of Penelope's programs that keeps tabs on missing persons' cases sees a pattern). Those who arrive are Hotch, Reid, Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss. JJ and Garcia stay behind (JJ is injured and/or pregnant maybe? no idea where in the timeline this is yet, but post-season 5).
The people of the town are, for lack of a better word, hostile towards them. The local police are Not Happy about them being there and seem to be fighting against them the whole time. Gaslighting, lying, being genuinely unhelpful. One or two officers (maybe the sheriff and one other) seem to be friendly, though. Trying to get the others to cooperate, being the civil one between Hotch and the officers.
From what the team gathers, tourists and people who pass through the area seem to just... vanish. No trace left of them. Sometimes a car or luggage is found days later, but always abandoned, always swiped clean of fingerprints or evidence. Not even blood is left behind, no bodies are found, nothing.
They think there's a serial killer living in the woods/mountains nearby, and it's possible the townspeople know of them and are protecting them. Rossi and Morgan come up with the idea that maybe the people think "if he kills strangers, he won't kill us," so it's become a twisted sort of reliance on the killer. Think of how people in the past would sacrifice a young person to a monster or dragon or God to keep themselves safe.
Hotch is unsettled the whole time they're there. It feels like everyone is constantly watching them. The town isn't very big, maybe 300-400 people total in the whole population of the area, but it seems like everywhere they go, someone is there to keep an eye on them. Sizing them up. He decides to not let any of his team be alone at any point in time. Always buddy-up.
The scene that's been stuck in my head specifically is this: Hotch and Reid have decided to stay late at the station on their maybe 5th or 6th day there. Hotch sent everyone back to the cheap (and frankly, filthy) motel for some sleep. He wanted to send Reid too, but Reid insisted on the "buddy-up" rule that Hotch himself made (making Hotch chuckle a little, though he nods and replies with, "Alright, you might want to make another pot of coffee then.").
The two are there until maybe 2am, looking through some medical records and newspaper clippings that go back twenty or so years, trying to see if there's any pattern to when the disappearances happen (Reid brought up the idea of them being cult or religion connected).
Hotch rubs his eyes, exhausted, suggesting they also go back to the motel for some much-needed sleep. It'll be easier to look at all of this stuff in the morning, once they've eaten and feel more rested. Reid agrees, shouldering his bag, the two heading to the car.
It's about a twenty-minute drive to the motel (everything is so spread out for such a small town, it's ridiculous). Halfway there, they get pulled over. Which is odd. Hotch wonders if maybe he swerved a little from his tiredness. Don't the locals know their SUV by now?
He rolls down his window, already recognizing it's the sheriff. Arching an eyebrow, he asks the sheriff what's up. Another officer is circling around to the other side, by Reid's door.
Reid feels sick to his stomach. Something's not right.
"Well," the sheriff starts, leaning against the vehicle, looking at Hotch with a small smile, "My men finally figured you guys out."
Hotch hardens his expression, "What do you mean by that?"
"We weren't sure how to make this seem like an accident, at first. Not so soon, anyhow," as he's talking, Reid pulls out his phone and keeps it close to his hip. He dials Rossi, hoping the man answers.
Rossi does, sleepy and disoriented, "Yeah, what do you need kid?"
When Reid doesn't respond, he peers at his phone to make sure it's still connected, "Kid?" Then he hears the sheriff.
Morgan and Prentiss are in his room. He turns on the light, puts the phone on speaker, and wakes them both in time to overhear the sheriff's little speech.
"It's always hard when Feds show up. When Feds vanish, more Feds come looking for them. But if we make it seem bloody enough, then, well, they call off the search and rescue."
"Am I correct in assuming you're threatening us right now?" Hotch asks, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He knew something was off from the moment they arrived. He knew there was something sick and twisted about this whole damn town. Even the children seemed off.
Cult was the only word he could focus on. They stumbled upon some kind of cult.
"Not a threat," the sheriff replies cooly, tapping his gun on the side of the door in command for Hotch to get out, "a promise."
Morgan is grabbing their bags and throwing them into their other SUV, not listening anymore after hearing Reid's shaky voice say, "Hotch?"
He checks their guns, makes sure they're all loaded, grabs some clean linens/sheets and towels from the motel room, and throws them in the back. Grabs some pillows, cursing under his breath, "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He slams his fist into the wall. Hotch and Reid are fucked-- this whole damn town is fucked! What the hell kind of place is this?
Rossi stays listening to the phone, hoping Reid can somehow send them a message--where are they? Who is all there? Not just the sheriff, clearly, because otherwise, Hotch would overpower him. They must be outnumbered.
They can hear Hotch and Reid being forced to the ground (Reid was smart, putting his phone in his shirt pocket, making sure to use it as some sort of "wire" for the team to listen in). Reid's voice is shaky, terrified, his words stuttered, while Hotch is composed, strong, and unreadable.
"You underestimate my team," Hotch is heard saying. Car doors slam closed. The sheriff scoffs, "Your team? Supposedly you're the best profilers in the nation, and yet you all came nowhere close to solving your case. I have men on their way to make sure your team can never solve it."
Reid whimpers, hoping Rossi heard that. Please get somewhere safe, he's thinking.
Rossi did, in fact, hear that. He gets Emily and Morgan into the car, peeling out of the nearly abandoned parking lot under the cover of darkness. They drive down the road a ways until they see a pull-off, hiding under the darkness of the trees, turning the vehicle off.
"This whole damn town is after us," Rossi says quietly. Morgan growls to himself, unable to reach Penelope. The service out here sucks.
Suddenly they hear Reid yelp, then the connection goes dark.
-
Reid wakes up sometime later, freezing.
He's shivering, his teeth chattering, his shoulders aching so much-- his arms are numb? What..?
It takes a moment for him to realize where he is. Across from him, hanging from a hook, is Hotch. Unconscious, nude, dried blood on the side of his face, and frost clinging to his hair and his body. His wrists are tied together by rope, held up by the hook from the ceiling, toes barely scraping the cement floor--Reid is in the same shape, he realizes.
Next to Hotch is another man, long dead, pale, covered in frost--and (TW: GORE) only from the torso up. His bottom half is missing. Nearby on a metal table is another body, a woman, who looks to have been carved into. A shelf lines the wall, Tupperware and glass jars holding cuts of meat, organs, blood, brains-- oh God. Reid might be sick. Actually, he is sick. He manages to swallow back the urge to puke, however, not wanting to cover himself in vomit.
The cult, he comes to realize with horror, is an entire town of cannibals. That's why the bodies are never found. They're eaten.
