Being Full of Life - Spencer Reid

f o u r

chapter four: old fashioned

Spencer's pov

"Damnit!" I yelled in frustration as Frank, the unsub, pulled Vivian out of the police station. I called Garcia as I jogged over to the window and told her to get an APB on the vehicle he sped away in, with Vivian at gunpoint.

"Spence, you need to calm down. we'll find her," JJ said, trying to calm me down.

"Alive, Jennifer? Will we find her alive?" I say coldly. She flinches at my use of her first name instead of her nickname. I only use it when I'm upset, and I am upset. I'm upset that I let anything happen to Vivian. I promised her we wouldn't let anything happen to her, I promised her I  wouldn't let anything happen to her.

I stormed out of the bullpen and into the room where we have to board set up. My eyes sweep the room and I see her stuff, her laptop, her bag, her jacket. I also notice a piece of folded-up paper in the spot where I was previously sitting. I walk over and I see that it has my name written on the top. I unfold it in confusion and curiosity. It has neat handwriting that I've never seen before.

It said:

Find me through my watch, I know you can.

-Vivian.

Vivian. I quickly pulled out my phone and called Garica.

"Green for Go, what can I do for you Boy Wonder?" her peppy voice answered.

"Garcia I need you to track Vivian Jackson through her watch, whatever that means."

"Watch? What type of watch?" she asked, confusion lacing her voice.

I closed my eyes and thought back to when she was still here, I remembered what it looked like and explained it to Garcia.

"It looked like a tiny phone on her wrist."

"Oh, OH. okay, I'm hacking into her email, and I'm locating where she is. That was really smart thinking of her watch Reid."

"She's the one who thought of it."

"Really, well she's really smart."

"Yeah," I said slightly smiling at the thought of her "yeah she is."

Back to Vivian's pov

"You've brought this upon yourself you know?" Frank sneers and he speeds away from the police station. He stuck me into the passenger seat of a beaten-up navy blue truck, keeping his gun on me. 

He continued to drive for about half an hour, slowing down once he was sure no one was following us. Once we arrived, at what looked like an abandoned house near no others, he got out and dragged me by my shirt inside.

"Get in the chair," he commanded as he pushed me to the floor of what looks like a living room. I obliged, sitting in a wooden chair in the middle of the room, being able to hear my heartbeat in my ears. He walked over to me with a rope, tying my arms behind the chair, and my feet to each other. he walked over to a table and grabbed a rag, only to stuff it in my mouth, gagging me. After he finished tying me up he went across the room and stuffed the gun into the back of his pants.

"Stay here hahaha, no pun intended. I'll be back to get some... supplies for tonight," he said then walked out, the door slamming behind him. I take this chance to look around, the room is plain, nothing special. A small table near the door and the wooden chair I'm currently tied to. I'm able to see part of the kitchen from where I'm sitting, nothing sticks out to me. Everything looks old-fashioned though. Old fashioned in a creepy way.

I try to squirm free from the chair but it doesn't work. I keep trying, wiggling my legs, squirming my arms. Finally, after many minutes of moving, the tie over my hands goes loose a little. I move my arms as much as I can and then I'm able to get my arms free. I quickly take the rag out of my mouth and untie my legs. I stand up and run over to the door.

"Damn... it's locked," I muttered to myself. I run into the kitchen and see a backdoor in there. But it's also locked and I'm unable to open it. I run upstairs but all the windows are locked. I can't seem to get out. I'm trapped.

I make my way back down the stairs and into the kitchen. All of a sudden I hear the front door open.

He's back