Murder Family Values

The Monster and the Ripper

"It is from the Bible that man has learned cruelty, rapine, and murder; for the belief of a cruel God makes a cruel man."~ Thomas Paine

Far away from Ashley's new hideout in Miami, Florida, the Bureau was tearing itself apart in Quantico, Virginia. The top of that year's graduates-to-be had been A) practically kidnapped by a TEACHER and then B) magically disappeared into thin air after being accused of being a murder suspect.

Just as Ashley had predicted, the farther back the Bureau pushed, the more departments tried to get involved.

Agent Hotchner's sharp, analytical eyes scanned the arguing agents. The Bureau was an absolute mess, and it was practically guaranteed that this is exactly what the rouge trainee was counting on. But still...something wasn't adding up. Sure, Ashley had always been eccentric and almost unnaturally good at catching serial killers. That didn't mean she WAS one.

Without bothering to turn his head or raising his voice above a well-trained 'library whisper', Hotch spoke calmly to the blonde next to him. "JJ can you gather the team? Tell them to be discreet."

Besides nodding slightly, the blonde gave no indication that she'd heard him before walking away.

Garcia's phone rang once, then twice before she answered. "This is the technology genie. Your wish is my command, what can I do y'a for?" Her hands twiddled with a pink pen as she spun in her office chair slightly.

"Garcia, I need you to pull everything you can off of Ashley's computer."

"I'll be all over it like a fly on honey." He could hear the furious typing of the joyous blonde through the phone as she continued. "There won't be a single nook or cranny that I won't search." Everything went silent for a moment. "You don't actually think she did it, do you? She was so nice!"

Hotch furrowed his eyebrows together. "When did you two even talk?"

"She asked for help with mid-terms. Listen, in I know I'm not supposed to 'tamper', but in my defense she offered me cupcakes that made Gordon Ramsey look like, a total amateur."

Hotch let out a sigh that could best be classified as 'disappointed dad.'

Not long after the team closed the doors to their designated conference room, the tech analysis's cheerful, happy-go-lucky voice filtered through the screen. "I think I found something. Turns out Ashley made a lot of 'home videos.' I haven't had the chance to check them out, so viewer discretion advised, boys and girls."

The brunette teen's headshot quickly filled the screen. Behind her were several posters, perfectly lined up in an almost obsessive fashion. "My name is Ashley Al'Ghul, and if you're watching this I've either been killed or am currently wanted for only the gods know what by the FBI."

Rossi raised an eyebrow. "Well, at least she's straight to the point."

On-screen, Ashley ignored the Italian and continued. "Over the past month, I've been indispensability pursuing a theory involving the Minnesota Strike copycat."

That caused everyone to sit up a bit straighter. On-screen, the teen paused for a second, as if to let the suspense build. "I have reason to believe that there never WAS a copycat, it was only ever the Chesapeake Ripper."

Garcia visibly blanched. "Oh god, I think I'm going to be sick."

Ashley straightened slightly. "And I think I know who he is."

Morgan let out a sigh as he leaned back in his chair. "I swear, every sentence this girl says ages me ten years." He moved his hands slightly as he talked. "Okay, let's hear it, who's the Ripper?"

"Before I name drop, I figured I should start with the evidence. I think he's been killing a lot longer than we thought, too. Anyone who gets squeamish easily should probably leave now, I'll wait."

She paused momentarily, brushing a strand of her neatly brushed hair behind her left ear. "Twenty years ago, these two bodies were found in Florence. Much like the victims of the Chesapeake Ripper, the cause of death was the mutilations. If you want more details on C.O.D., you can find it in an encrypted file. What drew my interest was the missing organs and the staging. Remind you of anything?"

Emily gestured slightly with her pen. "Okay, so they were obviously meant to look like the Primavera."

Hotch grimaced slightly. "It could've been the Ripper. The M.O. is similar."

"Not a shred of evidence was found at the crime scene. The head detective took particular interest in a young man who often could be found recreating the Primavera with graphite. In a fit of... well, I suppose you could say 'passion', the police nearly tore apart the main suspect's home. However, the Monster of Florence doesn't leave evidence, and neither does the Chesapeake Ripper. They eat it."

JJ frowned. "She got all that from a similar M.O.?"

Reid let out a small hum as he flipped through the case files but didn't comment otherwise.

The brunette on-screen smiled in an almost cold, detached manner. "That suspect was none other than my cousin, Doctor Hannibal Lecter."

Rossi nodded. "Well, that certainly explains why she didn't feel like sharing her theory with the class."

"Before they could arrest him, the police decided on someone else. It's inconsequential who, but I will say this: all evidence was circumstantial at best and non-existent at worst. I bet Hannibal was quite pleased with how thoroughly Inspector Pazzi's career was destroyed."

"I should say," Garcia's cheerful voice chimed in as the video paused.

"What you got Garcia?"

At Reid's prompting, the blonde launched into a mini-rant. "Check this out, happy campers. After the 'monster of Florence' flop, Inspector Pazzi was downgraded. From what I can tell, he basically became the laughingstock of his precinct. Let me tell you, the police in Italy are almost as ruthless as this killer, whoever he may be."

"When it comes to my cousin, an epiphany can be a deadly thing. It's hard to pinpoint when I had mine, but it most likely involved the way my cousin talks about God. He's the only Shrink I know who tells their patients that 'killing must feel good to god too, after all, he does it all the time.' Or my personal favorite: 'God allows bad things to happen for one reason: the magnificence."

That seemed to draw the attention of everyone at the table. "I'm telling you this because there is something that is important to playing his game, and let me make myself perfectly clear, to him, this IS a game. 'If it isn't elegant, just let it suffer.' That is the most important thing for you to remember. Those are the rules that define the conditions of HIS design."

"A god complex wouldn't be too far off from the Ripper's profile. From what I've read about the Ripper, he kills in sounders of three. It matches up with Graham's notes about how this unsub views his victims as pigs."

Emily nodded slightly. "She certainly talks about him like he's god."

Almost on cue, the on-screen fugitive objected. "Let me make one thing very clear: Hannibal Lector IS NOT God. But to defy him, now that's the name of the game. Nothing would please Hannibal more than a church collapsing mid mass, and he thinks God would love it too. In his eyes, he is punishing the rude for their inelegance. It's my theory that was part of the reason he never displayed Miriam Lass. Well, not completely anyhow."

Ashley tossed the camera a tight-lipped smile. "I've compiled case files and a complete timeline for you. The last thing I want to talk about is the stressor, because I know you'll be looking for one. I've got one word for you: Mischa. One last word of caution: my cousin is a master manipulator and he's been playing this game far longer than anyone." A laugh caught somewhere between manic and absolutely psychotic escaped her suddenly overjoyed lips. "Good luck."