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Demonic Whispers	By : AngelAnastasia Category: 1 through F > Criminal Minds Views: 719 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, nor the characters from it. I do not own Funny Games, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Prentiss was worried. She kept checking her phone every minute for updates, but there wasn't any news coming in. No other witnesses came forward, and even though J.J. was working her best with the reporters out there, they hadn't heard one peep from the unsubs. Prentiss was almost hoping that they could find a body just so they could have something to work with. At the moment, it seemed like Morgan and Reid just disappeared from the planet.
"No calls yet?" Mr. Boyle asked coming up to where she was sitting. He was a quiet man, and from what Prentiss gathered, he was working as a sub for high school teachers. He loved his job, but the work was never consistent. His wife was working at a grocery store to help make ends meet and to give their little girl the dance lessons. He had dark hair and gray eyes, and was still wearing the suit he went into work in.
"Not yet," Prentiss said softly. She felt like throwing her phone across the room just to get some of the rage out, but that wouldn't do anything other than break her phone and probably scare Boyle half to death.
"Do you think if we offered some ransom money that would get these kidnappers to call you up? I was talking to Ms. Nelson, and she said that she had some money in her savings account, and I'll get whatever money I need to if that means bringing Peter home." He sat down next to Prentiss and looked her right in the eye. "Please, tell me what I need to be doing to help."
Mrs. Boyle was sitting on the floor in the dancing room near the mirror. Clara was resting her head in her mother's lap, but neither one of them was sleeping. The last time Prentiss saw Ms. Nelson, she was sobbing in a corner. Prentiss honestly didn't know if offering ransom money was a good idea or not. They tried reaching out to the unsubs all night with reports on both television and the radio, but the unsubs stayed quiet.
"I don't know. I can bring up the ransom idea with the rest of my team," Prentiss said. "SWAT teams are being sent out to some of the locations right now so maybe we'll be hearing some news when they get there." Prentiss didn't even know if that was a good idea. These unsubs were obviously not looking for fame or glory or they'd be taunting the police with daring letters or heart-breaking photographers. She didn't know what the unsubs wanted, but she was so afraid that if they saw the police closing in on them, they would just kill the victims and move on. She was having a hard time believing all 4 of them were even still alive.
Mr. Boyle nodded. "Do you think my son has already been hurt? I know he got beat up when they first took him, but do you think they are still hurting him? Or is he locked in a basement somewhere with the others?"
"I can't tell you," Prentiss said honestly. "We don't know who these men are or what they are capable of." She was almost positive though that they were being hurt. If the victims were just tied up in a basement, they'd be calling to get the ransom money. If they weren't calling, the unsubs were busy doing God knows what to the people they stole. Prentiss didn't even like thinking about it.
"I hope Peter knows that we are looking for him," Mr. Boyle said with a sniffle. "I mean, when I left for work this morning, I don't even remember saying a word to Peter. He was eating his breakfast and I think he was watching the news, so I didn't want to disturb him. When I got home from work, he was still at school which was fine, but Melissa started getting worried when Peter and Clara weren't home by dinner and now, I'm here, wondering if I'm ever going to see my son again."
"We're trying our best to get him back," Prentiss said.
"I kinda feel like I should be out there looking too," Mr. Boyle said with a nervous laugh. "My son needs me and I'm just sitting here drinking coffee. Like, maybe I can follow behind the SWAT team or something. I wouldn't get in the way or anything. I just want to be there when they find Peter."
"You are already doing what you should be," Prentiss said. "Following the SWAT team out there would be a terrible idea. You'll be the very first to one to know when we find your son. For now, just stay here." As if on cue, Prentiss' phone started vibrating. Mr. Boyle scooted his chair back to he wouldn't seem nosy to her text, but she could tell he was hoping she would tell him some good news.
The text message was from Rossi. It couldn't be urgent since it was just a text over a phone call, but she opened it up quickly.
Another reported abduction. Jenny Parker. 29 years old. Never returned from night run. Attaching photo
Prentiss opened up a photo of a young woman with dark blonde hair and green eyes. She didn't look like Reid, Morgan, Nelson, or even Boyle. Prentiss was speechless.
She went jogging about an hour before Boyle abduction. Her cell phone found on neighborhood sidewalk about 5 miles from dance studio. No struggle at scene
Prentiss wanted to argue. She wanted to say that there was no way in hell that two unsubs were capable of kidnapping 5 innocent people in the span of just a few hours, but she couldn't. Everything fit the profile they were building. Prentiss opened the photo of the map that Hotch sent her earlier. She was even more positive than she was before that they weren't at the trailer park. She had been to that area several times. It was tight knit community. There would be no way two guys could be driving back and forth without people asking questions.
"Was it anything good?" Mr. Boyle asked. She could see the hope in his eyes, but she just shook her head. Mr. Boyle looked down. Prentiss swore he was about to start crying. "You will tell me if it's bad news though regarding my son. Right?"
Prentiss nodded. "It won't come to that sir," Prentiss said. She could hear uncertainty in her voice, and she hated that.
"Thank you," Mr. Boyle said. He looked up at her, and there were tears in his eyes. "I'm going to go sit with my wife and Clara. Its way past her bedtime, but I don't think any of us will do much sleeping tonight. Please let me know about the ransom idea though. I'm more than willing to go get some money out of my account."
"I'm sure the manager of this place can find a warm blanket for Clara," Prentiss said. "I'll go find her one. It's a cold night, and the police keep leaving all the doors open."
Prentiss got out of her chair before Mr. Boyle could object. She didn't need to find one of the dance instructors or managers working there. One of the officers brought warm blankets with him in case they did find the kidnapped people nearby. Prentiss took one of them off the desk and took one with her back to where the Boyles were sitting. Mr. Boyle had already joined his family, and Prentiss could see his wife wiping tears off her face as Prentiss handed her the blanket. She smiled graciously and wrapped her daughter in the blanket.
"Try to rest," Prentiss told them. "I'll let you know when we hear something."
Mrs. Boyle smiled at her, and Prentiss left the family to themselves. She sat back down her chair to think. She had to put herself in the unsubs' shoes. She wanted to play with her victims before she ultimately killed them. She wanted her victims to believe that they actually had a chance to escape. Prentiss closed her eyes. There are more victims that there were unsubs so they would have to keep the victims subdued. Ropes or handcuffs would keep their arms out of the way, and she would want them all in the same room to keep a better eye on them.
Just keeping them locked in one room with handcuffs wouldn't stop them from trying to fight back, and with their numbers, they could easily take down one of the unsubs. The unsubs wouldn't have much of a choice other than killing off the victims. The deaths would have to be spaced out though to let the reality of what was happening to the others really sink in before their time came. They would get weaker from beatings, and their spirits would break after seeing their friends get murdered in front of them. Kill one every one or two hours, and the entire group would be dead come sunup. Prentiss opened her eyes.
Reid closed his eyes waiting for the gun to off. He wasn't expecting them to kill him, but he was sure whatever spot they were aiming for on his body was going to cause immense pain. He flinched when he heard the gun, but nothing happened to him. He didn't fall over from the force of the bullet, and he was sure that the gun missed him. He was going to keep his eyes shut a moment longer, but then he heard Morgan scream. Reid opened his eyes, and turned around as fast as he could. Morgan's right arm was crossed over his chest to his left shoulder where blood was falling between his fingers.
"We'll give you a few minutes to clean up the puke," Anthony said. "It's disgusting, and I don't like looking at it. It better be gone by the time we get back."
Michael kicked Reid in the knee, and he fell on the floor next to Morgan. He was almost too afraid to move until he heard Michael lock the door behind them as they left. Morgan was breathing heavy, but he wasn't crying. Reid ignored the pain in his knees and scooted towards him. Peter acted fast tearing another piece of cloth from his boxer shorts and crawling next to Reid and Morgan. Morgan didn't want to take his hand off the wound.
"Damn him!" Morgan said through his teeth. "Damn him to hell!"
"Morgan, move your arm," Reid said licking his cracked lips. "We need to see it."
Morgan reluctantly put his arm down. His right hand was covered with blood from the shot. It looked like the bullet went in right underneath his shoulder. Dark blood ran down his arm, and Morgan winced in pain. "I don't think it hit an artery," Morgan said.
"Okay, Peter," Reid said backing up to give the kid room. "Push down on his arm as hard as you can with the cloth. Okay? We need to stop the bleeding."
Peter did as he was told. He got on his bloody knees without complaint and pushed down on the wound. "I won't be able to get the bullet out," Peter said, his voice cracking with every word. "I don't know how. I could try, but I don't want to hurt him even more."
Reid wasn't even thinking about asking the kid to get the bullet out. Reid couldn't even get the bullet out. Morgan would have to wait until they got to a hospital, but they could stop the bleeding. "No, just try to keep pressure on his arm. When the bleeding stops, you can wrap the cloth around the wound to keep bacteria out of it."
"I can do that," Peter said. Morgan was still breathing heavy, but he still had his eyes open, and he didn't look like he was about to lose consciousness. They were lucky the bullet didn't hit an artery or Morgan could be dead. Reid didn't know what they would do if Peter wasn't there with them. He would have no way to stop the bleeding without help.
"Why did you lie?" Reid asked when it looked like the bleeding was finally getting under control. "You didn't tell me to give him a fake name."
"I wasn't going to let you get shot pretty boy," Morgan said forcing a smile. "Doesn't even hurt that bad."
"Looks like it hurts," Peter said quietly. The little cloth Peter was using was soaked all the way through. He let it fall to the ground and ripped off another piece of his boxers. If he needed anymore, Reid was going to offer the kid some cloth off his. Peter didn't have that much more to spare before the whole thing fell apart.
"Here, I can hold it," Morgan told Peter. He took the fresh piece of clothing from Peter and held it against the bullet wound himself. Peter let himself fall on his rear end against the couch. He was still trembling, but so was Reid. Reid was positive they turned the air conditioner down even further. He moved himself closer to Morgan to look at the wound. He was still bleeding.
"How are we going to clean up the mess?" Reid asked. At this point, he didn't care if they came back and saw the puke still on the floor. No matter what they did to clean up, it wasn't going to stop those guys from hurting them again.
"We can push the couch over it," Peter said. Reid looked at the couch. It couldn't be that heavy, but it was their only option unless they wanted to strip to clean it up and Reid wasn't about to take off his boxers again. Peter was already trying to stand up on his wobbly legs. The burns on his legs matched what happened to Reid, but both of Peter's kneecaps were swelling, one a lot more than the other. The boy leaned on his better leg, and slowly walked behind the couch.
"Could you help Morgan move over?" Reid asked. Reid couldn't help him get up with the silly handcuffs still on, but he could use his arms to push the couch a little. Reid got on his knees, and tried pushing himself up, but he fell. Peter hurried back around and reached down to help Reid. He put his arms underneath Reid's arms and pulled him up. Reid didn't feel steady on his feet, but he didn't know how much longer until the unsubs came back.
Reid moved around the couch while Peter stayed behind with Morgan. Peter wrapped the makeshift bandage tight around Morgan's arm, and he bent over so Morgan could use Peter's weight as a balance. They could only make it a few steps. Morgan was much heavier than the college kid, and Morgan was trying as hard as he could to avoid using his broken leg. Peter got Morgan over to the bookcase, and Morgan let himself fall on the floor. Morgan hissed when he landed on his bad leg. Reid leaned against the couch and pushed it forward a few inches.
"Are you okay?" Peter asked Morgan. "I didn't mean to let you fall at the end." Reid stayed by the couch to catch his breath, and Peter was trying to sit down next to Morgan without hurting himself.
"Fine," Morgan said. He brought his hurt leg up to his chest and rubbed his hand over his knee. He wasn't fine. None of them were.
What were they going to do? Reid couldn't tell if the team wasn't getting closer to finding them or not, but there was no way any of them could survive if help didn't get there soon. Reid was even too afraid step away from the couch. He didn't want to fall down and cause another scene when their focus needed to be on Morgan. Reid's breath caught in his throat when he heard the door being unlocked. Anthony and Michael couldn't have been gone for more than 5 minutes. Reid didn't expect them back so soon, and he was the one closest to the door.
Morgan sat up straight as he could against the bookshelf and Peter took a step closer to the wounded agent. Reid couldn't do anything except turn around and face whoever was coming through that door. Reid felt himself licking his lips again as Michael slowly opened the door and locked it again as soon as he was through. Anthony wasn't with him.
"We weren't ready for you guys yet," Morgan called out. Reid took a step back as Michael came right up to him. His heart was pounding in his chest.
"I'm sorry," Michael said in his usually pleasant voice. "I didn't mean to scare you." Michael took a few more steps towards Reid.
"Then what do you want?" Reid asked. He didn't like how Michael was keeping his hands behind his back.
"Anthony is busy changing shirts," Michael said smiling. "He doesn't like it when his clothing gets dirty. Neither do I, but I already changed shirts. I brought another one with me from home so I wouldn't have to wear dirty clothes."
"What do you want?" Morgan asked loudly. Michael looked over at Peter and Morgan and took his hands from behind his back. He wasn't holding a gun or a knife. He was holding a key.
"Anthony said he has one more fun idea planned for us, but after that, I get to pick what we do," Michael said. "My idea is another game, but this one is even more fun. Hide and seek! Everyone knows that game. I used to play it all the time when I was younger. It wouldn't be very fair for you to play that game with your hands behind your back. Would it?"
Reid looked over at Morgan. It could be a trick, but Michael didn't seem like much of a trickster out of the two. Morgan shrugged, and Reid turned around and held out his arms. Michael did exactly what he said he would. He unlocked the cuffs, and for the first time since Reid got there, his hands were free. Michael caught the cuffs before they fell on the floor, but Reid didn't care. He felt free. He brought his hands in front of him, but he felt sick again when he saw what was done to his right hand. All of the nails were missing.
"Do you feel better?" Michael asked. Reid turned back around to face him. Michael put the handcuffs in his back pocket, but he didn't take out some kind of weapon. He clasped his still gloved hands together and smiled.
"Thank you," Reid finally said. He didn't think Michael meant this as a kind gesture though.
"Can you please help us?" Peter asked. "You wouldn't even need to tell Anthony. Just leave the door unlocked or something. Please." Peter's voice was still cracking. Reid couldn't believe that anybody could listen to his pleas and just ignore him.
"You know I can't do that," Michael said. He didn't sound annoyed by Peter at all. If anything, he sounded a little bored.
"Who are you?" Reid suddenly asked. "My name is Spencer Reid. I don't have any brothers or sisters, but being an only child is alright. I love reading and magic tricks. What about you? Is your real name Michael? Do you have any brothers or sisters?"
"I'm just Michael," the unsub said smiling. "Just Michael." Michael turned back around and went up the three steps leading out of their prison. He opened the door to leave. The hallway behind the door looked dark. Reid couldn't make out anything.
"Michael," Reid said taking a step forward. "Can I please ask you something?"
"Whatever you like," Michael said. "Doesn't mean I will answer, but you can try. Hurry up though. Anthony is waiting for me."
"Is there another phone in the house?" Reid asked.
Michael kept his hand on the door, but he turned partway around to look Reid in the eye. His oily hair still hung around his face. He didn't have the best skin, and his dark hair gave Reid chills down his spine. Reid couldn't explain why, but he didn't like it. "Yes," Michael said simply.
He didn't wait around for another question. Michael opened the door a little wider, and left Reid standing by the couch. The door locked behind him, as it always did, and Reid turned to see his friends. Peter was still standing in front of the bookcase with Morgan sitting right next to him.
"That was weird," Morgan said. He put his hand back over his bandage and winced.
"Why were you asking him about a phone?" Peter asked. Reid couldn't stop rubbing his wrists. It felt so good to finally be free in a sense. His wrists were red and sore, but he didn't mind.
"He said that he wants to play hide and seek with us," Reid said. "We can't play in this room. It's not big enough. They're going to have to let us out of this room, and while we are hiding, one of us can look for the phone."
"You guys would have to look for it," Morgan said. "I can't walk. Maybe I can cause some kind of distraction or something though to keep them in this room so you guy can look." Reid took his hands off the couch and started taking the few agonizing steps towards the bookcase. He didn't know if any of his toes were broken or not, but the kick he took to his head was enough to keep him dizzy.
"I'm scared," Peter said looking down at his feet. "I mean, what if it's a trap?"
"They want to kill us either way," Morgan said. "They can kill us in here or they could plan something elaborate and kill us out there. I'd rather die fighting than sitting around waiting."
Peter didn't say anything. He wrapped his arms around himself, probably another attempt to stay warm, but Reid noticed the cut on his stomach was still bleeding. This wasn't going to be the end. It couldn't be. They were going to find a way out of there.
The sound of J.J.'s voice drew Reid's attention away from Peter. J.J. was standing in front of the dance studio with a makeshift podium set up for her to address the reporters. Reid could still plainly see Peter's parents, his younger sister, and another woman that Reid guessed was the mother of Sarah Nelson. Boyle's parents were holding hands, and the Nelson woman had red eyes from crying. Morgan and Peter also both had their attention on the television, and Reid forgot all about the constant pain he was in when J.J. spoke.
"This case is very active," J.J. told the reporters. She had her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and wore a black coat to protect her from the cold night. "At this time, we would like to report another disappearance that we believe is related to the kidnappings. A woman named Jenny Parker was reported missing earlier tonight. "A photograph replaced J.J. on the screen. It showed a young woman smiling with blonde hair and green eyes. Reid had never seen this woman in his life.
"Do you recognize her?" Morgan asked Peter as he scooted closer to the screen. Why couldn't they be showing a photo of Tatiana? Once they found out Tatiana was missing, it would only be a matter of time before the team came to rescue them. Reid's heart dropped when he saw it was just another victim. Reid couldn't figure out if the unsubs killed her before or after they got to the cabin, but Reid was confident he never saw her before.
"No," Peter said. The kid was looking at her, but the second her photo was gone, Peter's eyes were focused behind J.J. He was staring at his distraught family.
"We are urging the public to keep their eyes open, and if you spot any of the kidnapped victims, call the authorities immediately. If you see the suspects, do not approach them. They are to be considered armed and dangerous. With the help of an artist, we have some better images of the men to show you."
Another image replaced J.J. on the screen. It was just a black and white drawing, but it was a dead ringer for Anthony. Reid couldn't believe it. His short brown hair hung around his face, quite like Michal's dad, but Anthony's hair was darker. His face was a bit narrower than Michael's was, but they had similar dark blue eyes. Since there wasn't any color added to the drawing, it just made Anthony's eyes look black. Reid's breath caught in his throat. He felt like he was looking into the eyes of the monster that raped him.
"We are showing you a drawing of the man driving the getaway car," J.J.'s voice said. "He is in his late 20s to early 30s. Brown hair. About 6'2 tall. Average weight. Was seen wearing a white sweater, black pants, and white gloves. It is also believed he was wearing tennis shoes. He was seen driving a white sedan with the kidnapped victims in the back seat. If anyone sees him, I cannot urge you enough to not approach him. Call the police immediately."
Anthony's drawing disappeared and was replaced by a drawing of Michael. Just like Anthony, the drawing look exactly like Michael. It was eerie. The artist had Michael's greasy hair wrapped around his round face, and his thick eyebrows were close to his eyes. His fuller lips were curved in a sickening smile, and his eyes were drawn black. Reid turned around to see how Peter was taking it and saw Morgan had scooted closer back to the college kid. Peter was shaking again, and he was looking away from the screen.
"This man was in the passenger seat," J.J. said. "He's in his early to mid-20s. He has dark blonde hair and is about 5'10. A little on the heavier side. Was last seen wearing an outfit identical to the driver. White sweater, black pants, and white gloves. Also tennis shoes. We are urging the public to keep a look out for these two men." Michael's drawing shrunk a little and was joined by Anthony's so they could be seen side by side.
"There was a witness," Morgan said confidently. "There's no way somebody could draw those 2 that accurately without seeing them. They probably witnessed one of the abductions. It was a friend or colleague or something, J.J. would have said their names." Morgan was sitting right next to Peter, but the kid still wasn't sitting down. He still had his arms crossed over his chest, and one of his legs was bent over the other.
"She said they are sending out SWAT teams," Peter said. "Do you think there's a chance one of the teams is coming in this direction? I mean, maybe the witness saw the car and saw what way they were heading. Maybe the rest of your team is coming?" Peter had so much hope in his eyes, but Reid didn't think the team was coming.
"Maybe," Morgan said. Reid was so grateful that he didn't have to answer. "We are probably about an hour away from the bookshop. I'm sure they will find us once they get out here. I'm sure their car is the only car in the area and it's white, so it shows up better in the dark. I can kinda see the car from the window. They didn't try to hide it or anything." Peter nodded. Reid couldn't tell if he was looking more hopeful or not, but he was starting to look sick.
"Just remember, both of these men will be armed and dangerous. I repeat, do not approach either one of them. Go back into your car or somewhere you consider safe, and then call the police. We already have SWAT teams going to check out some locations where these men may be hiding with the kidnapped victims. Sarah Nelson is 32 years old. Jenny Parker is 29 years old. Peter Boyle is 21 years old. If you have any information at all that you think could help, please don't hesitate to call the police."
When Reid heard the door unlocking, he didn't try hiding like he usually did. There was no point anymore. There was no place to hide in this room, and even if there was, Anthony would find him in a minute or less. Instead of cowering by the couch, he crept over to where Morgan and Peter were. Peter was leaning against the bookcase, and using that as his support, he slid down on the floor next to Morgan. Reid didn't need to do that. He bent his knees, and using his now freed hands, he was able to sit himself gently down.
"Sounds like they were watching the news," Anthony said with a cheery tone in his voice. Just like always, the door locked behind them and Anthony led the way around the couch. Michael was swinging a hammer whistling a tune that Reid didn't recognize. Reid didn't know if he liked the hammer any more than Michael's beloved knife. "Were you enjoying the updates?"
"I was," Michael said in his usually quiet voice. "The blonde lady talking is very pretty."
"You are sure into blondes," Anthony said winking at Peter. Michael didn't look entirely comfortable at the joke though. Michael didn't look over at Peter. He chose instead to look at the hammer he was holding. Reid still couldn't figure out their relationship. He didn't think they were brothers. He didn't even think they were related, but why was Michael staying?
"I was thinking of our next game, but before I forget," Anthony said turning to Michael. "Could you please get the buckets?" Michael nodded and hurried away. "The last trivia game went just as planned so I was thinking of playing it again, but with all three of you this time. We are going to up it a little bit during this round."
"In what way?" Morgan asked. He was already scooting in front of Reid and Peter, but Morgan wasn't any better at random trivia than Peter was. Reid decided right then and there that if Peter was losing, Reid would take the fall for him. Reid wasn't feeling any better than Peter, but this was his job in a sense. He was trained to deal with people like Anthony.
"Remember how I said the four of you would be dead by morning?" Anthony asked. "There's one dead now from your group. Plus, that one girl but she wasn't with you guys. So that leaves you three. By the end of this game, there will only be two left. Doesn't that sound awesome?"
Peter's mouth dropped open, and Reid found himself speechless. He was trying to think of something to say, anything to say to change Anthony's mind on this deadly game when Michael walked back in. He was holding three very full buckets, and after he set down two of the buckets, he threw the third one's contents right on Reid. Freezing water splashed on Reid's drying hair and ran down his body. A sharp gasp escaped from Reid's lips. The others didn't have much time to react. Peter was trying to scoot away from Reid when he was soaked with the second bucket of icy water. Peter screamed. Morgan didn't even try to cover himself when Michael picked up the third bucket and dumped the water on him. He let out a loud gasp as the water hit his skin, but he didn't scream. Michael giggled.
Morgan didn't take any time to dry himself off at all. He scooted back in front of Reid and Peter while Michael put the buckets back in the hallway. Reid felt terrible. His boxers were finally starting to dry off and his hair stopped dripping, and then this happened. His wet boxers clung to his skin, and his wet hair was doing its very best to make sure his shoulders stayed wet. Peter was wrapping himself in a fetal position, but Reid couldn't forget what Anthony just told them.
"Are you gentlemen ready for the game?" Anthony asked. He pulled the armchair closer to the bookcase and sat down on it. Michael stood beside him swinging the hammer. "Spencer and Peter, please stand up. And don't make this harder on yourselves by trying to fight. Just do as I say and all of this will be over soon."
Reid didn't want to stand back up. That was the last thing he wanted to do, but he didn't feel like had a choice. He put his hands on the bookcase behind him and pulled himself back to his feet. Peter didn't look like he was going to comply at first. He didn't move from his ball position, but after he looked over at Morgan, he let go of his legs. He put his hands flat on the floor and lifted himself up. He stood next to Reid with his head down.
"Aren't you guys excited?" Anthony asked. He crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward. "Oh, and Agent Morgan. We will know if you lose when you lay over flat. You can't exactly fall if you can't exactly stand, right? Makes sense to me."
"Where do you get your trivia questions?" Reid asked. He wanted to keep Anthony talking as long as possible.
"You were the one that said you liked to read, right?" Anthony asked. "No wait, that was Tom Carey. You guys could almost pass for twins. Isn't that funny? I'm a riot. Anyway, though, I'm a lot like Tom, I guess. I love reading too. Hope you guys are ready."
"I'm ready," Michael said smiling. He stepped closer to them, and Reid felt his heart start pounding in his chest. He had no doubts that he could answer every single question Anthony threw at him. He was only worried about the others.
"Okay, let's see," Anthony said looking over them. "I can't decide who goes first. We need to make this fair, right? Okay cool, I got it." He pointed his finger at Reid and smiled. "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe," Anthony started. He wasn't going in any particular order, and his finger just skipped all over the place. Reid was certain Anthony already knew who was going to get the first question. He just wanted to play with them.
"Catch a tiger by the toe. If he hollers, let him go," Anthony continued. Michael was clapping his hands to go with Anthony's tune. Reid didn't think he would ever stop. "Eeny, meeny, miny…" Anthony paused. He closed his eyes and spun around in a circle with his finger in the air. When he stopped, he lowered his finger down and opened his eyes. "Moe!" His finger landed on Reid.
"Okay, first question Mr. Spencer Reid," Anthony said as he sat back down. "How many bones are in the human body?"
Reid didn't even flinch. "When babies are born, there's 270 bones in their body. By the time they reach adulthood, they are down to 206 bones because some of the bones have fused together. This usually happens around the age of 30."
Anthony glanced at Michael who just shrugged. "Okay then, let's have Agent Morgan go next. Ready to test your smarts? How fast does it take for the average person to fall asleep?"
Morgan looked over at Reid. He had to remember this answer. Reid remembered telling him just a few weeks ago when Morgan was complaining he couldn't sleep one night. "Seven minutes," Morgan finally said was uncertainty.
"Let's have an easy one for Peter," Anthony said. "Everyone likes candy. Right? One of my favorite candies is M . What do the letters actually stand for?"
Reid wanted to know where Anthony was getting these questions from. Most people wouldn't be able to answer these. Morgan probably didn't even know what the initials stood for. Peter took a step back. It was clear the kid had no idea.
"They stand for Mars and Murries," Reid said as quickly as he could. "Those were the last names of the people that made the candy."
Anthony stood up. "If you answer one more question out of turn, I will put a bullet so fast in Agent Morgan's brain that he will have no idea what happened. Understood? Now Peter, in Sesame Street, Oscar the Grouch was green, but that wasn't his original color. What color was he in the first season?"
"Please," Peter begged. "Don't do this."
"Ask him another question," Morgan said. Morgan tried scooting closer to Peter, but there wasn't any way for him to protect Peter from their hammer.
Michael reached out and pulled Peter forward by grabbing onto the boy's hair. Peter's hands went up to get Michael off of him, but it wasn't working. Peter tripped over Morgan, and when he was standing in front of the others, Anthony held him still. Anthony pulled Peter's left wrist away from the rest of his body, and Michael swung the hammer. Peter screamed when the hammer crashed into his fingers. Peter's fingers made a sickening cracking sound as the hammer hit, and his index finger was bent all the way back from the force. Reid noticed it was the same hand where Peter lost his pinky so only three of his fingers were broken, but Peter was done using his right hand until rescue came for them. Michael shoved Peter back to the others. Peter cradled his broken fingers with his good hand, and Reid felt like throwing up again.
"Okay, Spencer Reid, where was Fredric Baur buried?" Anthony asked after he sat back down.
"Isn't there another game we can play?" Morgan asked. "Most people don't know the answers to this crap. You aren't giving us a fair chance."
"Who said we play fair?" Michael asked. "All I was hoping for was an entertaining night. I had no idea I'd be having this much fun. This is wonderful."
"He was buried in a Pringles can," Reid said. It was hard to forget something like that, but Morgan was right. Most people would never be able to answer these questions.
"Agent Morgan, when Jay was used a slang term, what exactly did it mean?" Anthony asked. He never took a break between the questions. It was almost like he had them memorized.
Morgan sighed. "I don't know." Michael didn't even wait for Anthony's command. He took a step forward and swung the hammer at Morgan's feet. Morgan was the only one lucky enough to still be wearing shoes, but the shoes didn't protect him from much. The hammer slammed on his toes and Morgan hissed in pain. Reid guessed that Morgan's toes broke just as quickly as Peter's fingers did.
"Peter Boyle, since one of the only questions you got right was about the Titanic, I'll keep on that theme. Name one of the Titanic's sister ships," Anthony said.
"I don't know," Peter said in a voice just barely louder than a whisper. The poor boy was still shivering and holding his broken hand. Reid didn't know what to do.
"Did you like it better when Michael dragged you over here or do you want to act like a man and walk over yourself?" Anthony asked standing up. "Too bad I didn't bring that knife. It could be interesting to open up that cut on your tummy a little bit more. We could find out what's hiding behind all that skin and blood." Michael laughed and stepped forward.
"I could go get the knife if you wanted," Michael said. "That would be a lot more fun than breaking more of his fingers." Michael took another step towards Reid and Peter.
"Please," Peter said. "I'll do whatever you want. Please don't get the knife." A tear ran down Peter's face. "I want to go home." Michael laughed again.
"You'll go home in a body bag if I don't decide to burn the house down after all three of you are dead," Anthony said. "Or in a vacuum bag if I do burn the house down. Isn't that how they get people's ashes up? That's some trivia I don't even know."
Reid was trying to think of a distraction. There had to be something he could do to get their minds off of trying to kill one of them, but he couldn't think of anything. His eye was throbbing from the kick earlier, and his head wasn't working right. It looked like even Morgan was trying to think of some kind of distraction, but the ringing of the doorbell interrupted their thoughts. Peter looked up, and Reid tried looking out the window hoping to see flashing lights. He couldn't see anything though. It was dark out there.
"Oh, how fun," Anthony said. "Looks like we having company." Anthony walked towards the window to look out. If he saw anything, he kept it to himself. "Okay Michael, you stay here with our buddies. If you hear shouting or loud footsteps coming in this direction, kill them. Don't even wait for someone to tell you to put your hands up. Kill Agent Morgan, Agent Reid, and Peter Boyle before it ever gets that far. Only do that though if you hear shouting or footsteps. Got it?"
Michael nodded. "Will do." Michael took Anthony's place on the chair and set the hammer down on his lap. "What are you going to do?"
"If it's a cop out there or some fancy wancy dancy agent, you'll hear shouting. If it's not an agent, I'm pretty sure the person at the front door is going to die. Guess there's only one way to find out. Wish me luck." Anthony ran his fingers through his hair, unlocked the door, and hurried out of the room. The second Anthony was gone, Peter collapsed on the floor.
Reid gently lowered himself down on the floor to be next to the others and was happy to see that Peter didn't faint. He had his arms over his chest and was sobbing. Reid put an arm over the boy's shoulders and pulled Peter closer to him. Peter was shaking and Reid knew that he was too. They weren't close to the air conditioner, but it was freezing in that room.
"Michael, please," Morgan said. "You need to stop this. If it is the police out there, they will kill you long before you can escape if you don't let us go. Hell, just let Peter and Reid out. You can keep me in here as long as you like. Break my other leg, twist my arm, whatever."
"Sssh!" Michael whispered. "I can't hear what they are saying out there." Michael stood up and went over to the window. Reid didn't care what they were saying anymore. He just didn't. The team wasn't out there. They wouldn't go ringing the doorbell to get the unsubs out. He didn't know who could be at the front door at this time in the night, but it wasn't Hotch or Rossi. If they were lucky, it could be a state trooper on a nightly patrol, and he pulled over when he heard noises in the night. If he went missing, a team would certainly be sent out to find him.
Reid licked his lips and looked over at Michael. "Why do you let him bully you?" Reid asked nervously. Begging Michael for freedom and playing the sympathy card weren't working. They needed to try another tactic. "All he does is call you names and he's constantly making fun of you. Why would you put up with someone like that?"
Michael finally looked away from the window. His dark eyes were just staring at Reid. Reid wrapped his arm tighter around Peter, but he didn't look away. He didn't want to seem like he was afraid of Michael, but in reality, he was terrified. Michael was the one in control since he was the one with the weapons. Reid knew that, but he was hoping Michael forgot. He didn't think Michael would be like this at all if Anthony wasn't in his life. If Anthony stayed outside with the doorbell ringer, Reid was positive he could talk Michael into letting them go. Reid would have sat there all-night staring at Michael if that's what it took, but a gunshot going off took Michael's attention away from Reid. Peter gasped, and Reid looked outside.
"You guys better pray that wasn't a cop shooting Anthony," Michael said. He walked back over to them and sat in the armchair. "If Anthony isn't back in 5 minutes, get ready to meet your maker. Pretty sure I'm killing Spencer Reid first, but we'll see." Reid didn't see a gun in Michael's pocket though. If his only weapon was that hammer, it couldn't be that hard to take it from him. Reid could still stand. If he could get Morgan or Peter to hold Michael down, they could take his hammer.
Rossi stayed behind when Hotch went to check out the neighborhood where the latest victim was last seen. They weren't both needed over there, and from the sound of it, she was the first one taken that night. He chose to stay behind in case any other witnesses came forward. He watched every single report given by J.J. that night, and Hotch was sending him constant updates. He didn't find anything new or helpful at the scene. Rossi didn't think he would, but anything was worth a shot.
He didn't know why, but he was hoping that Morgan or Reid would find a way to contact him. If anyone could find a way to get help, it would be Reid. Morgan was probably going out of his way to keep the boy genius safe. It was just the others that Rossi really worried about. Nelson, Boyle, and now Parker…Morgan couldn't possibly be protecting all of them. When Prentiss told them earlier that she thought one of the kidnapped victims was already dead, Rossi didn't want to believe it. The more he thought about it though, the more sense it made. Sitting all alone in the conference room made him think about it even more, and he was now positive that at least one person was already dead.
"Agent?" an officer asked peaking his head in. He opened the door slightly. Rossi didn't mind. He wasn't doing anything that required the door being shut. "The sheriff from the county over is here. He said he would like to talk to you."
Rossi stood up and nodded. The sheriff could only be bringing information about the kidnappings, or he might even know who the unsbubs were. Whatever it was, it had to be important if he drove all the way down there. The young officer smiled at Rossi and opened the door even wider. It was only a few seconds after the cop leaving that the sheriff walked in. He was an older man with thick hair on his head and a thin beard on his face. He wasn't wearing his uniform. He was just wearing jeans a tee shirt like it was his day off, but he walked with urgency. He held a folder underneath his right arm. Rossi held out his hand for the sheriff to shake as they sat down together.
"Agent Rossi, nice to meet you," Rossi said. "I'm sorry I'm the only one here. Most of my team are out on the field right now."
"Were any of your agents abducted?" the sheriff asked. "Sheriff Bolton. Call me Mike. Glad I didn't go to sleep early tonight like the wife wanted or I wouldn't have seen the news."
"Why would you ask if some agents were abducted?" Rossi asked. He didn't think the sheriff had anything to do with the kidnappings, but Rossi knew J.J. didn't tell the media that Reid and Morgan were among the missing.
"No reason," Mike said. "You just said though that most of the team was on location, and I didn't see any other agents here. I can't figure out another reason why this case would be getting so much media coverage though. The youngest victim is a 21-year male, right? So that means there's no kids missing, and you haven't found any bodies to prove that the two men in the white gloves are actually dangerous. The only thing the people in your case have in common is the cell phones left behind."
"How can I help you, Mike?" Rossi asked. Rossi didn't care if this guy was the sheriff of Texas. He wasn't going to give information about a case like to this without Hotch knowing.
"Happened to us too," Mike said. "About 2 years ago. I had every available officer working on the case, but the perpetrators were never caught. We didn't have photos or even drawings of the guys who did this, but they sound almost identical."
"Can you tell me what happened?" Rossi asked. He pulled his notebook from across the table with a waiting pen on top. He put his cell phone next to the notebook. If this sheriff had any new information that could help them, he was putting Hotch on speaker phone.
Mike Bolton cleared his throat. "Just happened one night. By morning time, it was over. We didn't know that then of course, but that's what it was. First abduction was a woman working at a library. She was closing up, and the security camera shows her walking to her car, but she never made it home. She didn't park close to the building which wasn't smart. Her keys, purse, and phone were found in the street. She never even unlocked the car. Second and third abductions were about half an hour later. Younger woman with her little brother walking home from a movie together. Both their cell phones found near the theater. Never made it home."
"Names? Ages?" Rossi asked. He was scribbling down everything he heard. "Were the bodies ever found?"
Mike pushed the folder across the table. Rossi opened it up slowly, and the first thing he saw was a smiling woman with auburn hair and green eyes. "That's the library woman. Name was Laura Kelley. 32 years old. Body never found." Rossi pushed her photo to the side and saw the second one. This woman was younger with short brown hair and big brown eyes. She wore a pink headband in the photo. "Older sister. Colleen Martin. 22 years old. She was actually dating one of my officer's sons. He never got over losing her. Body never found." Rossi nodded and pulled out the last photo. It was of a boy with dark blonde hair and brown eyes very similar to his sister's big eyes. "Little brother. Rory Martin. 19 years old."
Rossi hated looking at photos like that. He closed the folder, but he couldn't get their happy faces out of his mind. "Rory's body was found a few days later," Mike said.
"What?" Rossi looked up. If these cases were related, they needed to know what was done to that boy to lead to his death. "Where was he found? Was an autopsy done? Can we see the results? You didn't find any sign of the others?"
"I'm planning on calling the Martin's mother in the morning," Mike said. "She said she always wanted updates on the case. I don't think she ever lost hope of finding her daughter. We both know that she'd dead, but Mrs. Martin wants a body to bury. Tragic story."
"What killed Rory Martin?" Rossi asked again. He pulled the boy's photo back out.
Mike took a deep breath. "His body was found washed up in some lake about an hour away from where he was taken. It was badly decomposed from being in the water and being exposed to the elements for so long. We didn't let his mother see the body. She wouldn't have taken it very well. Some college kids boating on the lake were the ones that found him. Rory was only wearing his boxers when he was found. We never found the rest of his clothes."
Rossi wrote that down. That sounded like something the unsubs would continue over the course of their killings. Rossi was getting ready to call Hotch.
"Took a while to find out what killed him just because of the state of his body," Mike continued. "Coroner said he probably died the very night he was taken. Broken bones, head wounds, and extensive bruising. Evidence shows that Rory fought back which doesn't surprise me. He was the star football player in high school. Won a full scholarship to college. Coroner said he probably died from blood loss. Deep stab wounds were all over his stomach and chest so the poor guy was suffering, but the assholes who did that to him wouldn't give him a quick death."
"I'm going to call the chief leader," Rossi said. He dialed Hotch's number and put the phone on speaker so Hotch could ask Mike questions if he needed to.
"They sound related, don't they?" Mike asked. "My men were searching for months around that lake, and we were even thinking of having the damned thing drained to find Colleen and Laura, but we never did. I never closed the case though. Never lost hope that we were going to find their bodies or the monsters that did that to them."
Rossi stood up and went over to the map. He wondered if any of the neighborhoods they circled had lakes nearby. The unsubs obviously didn't plan on the bodies ever getting found which is why they threw the boy's body in the lake and ditched the other bodies. That didn't make much sense though that they went to an upscale neighborhood to torture their victims to death. They wanted their privacy. They weren't plan on getting found.
"Hotch," Hotch said answering the phone. Rossi turned back around to the table.
"I don't think the unsubs took them to those neighborhoods Aaron," Rossi said. He didn't see any lakes nearby or any large area that be used as a dumping ground.
"Why? Did you find some new information?" It was noisy where Hotch was, probably because of the investigators on scene, but Hotch sounded like he was walking.
"I have Sheriff Mike Bolton with me," Rossi explained. "He just told me about a very similar case that he had in his town about two years ago."
"Were there any survivors?" Hotch asked.
"No," Rossi said sadly. "But the victims and what happened to them do sound similar to what is going on right now. Three people went missing, and they did find one of the bodies. In a lake. He washed up on some lake."
"How did he die?" Hotch asked.
"Coroner thought he bled to death," Rossi said looking over at the sheriff. "He was 19 years old. The case that Garcia found said they found the deceased woman on the side of some road. I don't think the unsubs ae planning on the bodies being found. They probably weren't even thinking this boy's body was going to wash up or they wouldn't have put him there."
"So where do you think they are? Did the sheriff get any photos of their unsubs?" Hotch asked.
"Hi Agent Hotch, this is Mike Bolton," Mike said. "We never got any pictures or witnesses on the people who took Kelley or the Martin siblings. We determined it was two different people because three people were kidnapped in less than an hour, and the coroner said Rory was stabbed by two different types of knives. Among other things."
"I don't think they are anywhere near busy neighborhoods," Rossi said. "I'm thinking the trailers or even the state park. From the looks of it, the park looks big. I think we should get some officers over there to look around."
"And I'm willing to help out and lend a few officers," Mike said. He took his cell phone out of his pocket and smiled. "I want to be there when those bastards get caught. Maybe they can tell us where they ditched the bodies of Kelley and Colleen Martin."
"I wouldn't count on it," Rossi said. They might not even remember. It sounded like the unsubs killed quite a few people over a short period of time.
"Okay, I'm on my way back," Hotch said. "Tell the sheriff over there to get the police back to the station. We need to get this organized before we send people over there. I've been to that state park before and it's huge. It's easy to get lost, and I don't think we should go with blaring lights and noise. I'm afraid that if we make an announcement like that, they will just kill the victims. I'm not risking that. We need a plan."
Rossi agreed. "Okay Aaron, I'm going to call up the forest ranger and see who is working tonight. They can tell us where all of the cabins are located. I'm sure they are spread apart, and I have a feeling there's probably a lake nearby."
"I'm going to call Prentiss and have her meet us at the station," Hotch said. "I want J.J. to keep doing the news reports. I have a feeling the unsubs are watching. I don't want them to think anything is suspicious."
Rossi was sure that J.J. would want to come, but they couldn't have anything stand out to the unsubs. Everything had to be the same. They had no leads, no ideas, nothing. If anything, there were only more victims. The unsubs needed to think they were in control. J.J. would stay and keep talking to the reporters if that meant saving Reid and Morgan.
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Demonic Whispers