𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇- spencer reid ✔️

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄- 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐄?

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐀𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒. I had somehow ended up here, at this warehouse, and I couldn't quite figure out what brought me here. I had eyes everywhere, so it didn't take long for me to track down the location where this so-called "society" was keeping none other than Celia Clairmont. 

One would argue that my plan to rescue her stemmed from a sudden change of heart, but that wasn't the case at all. My reasons for letting her walk free stemmed from nothing but pure selfishness. If you were expecting some sudden character development from me, then I would strongly advise you to reconsider. I wasn't afraid to admit that I was not a good person, and I made no effort to hide it. 

The real reason why I wanted to save Celia Clairmont was that I didn't want to give these criminals the chance to kill her before I got the chance to. It was simple, really. They planned on keeping her for leverage, but I was planning on killing her for vengeance. In my books, I had a much better reason than she did, and I had staked a claim on her already. If anyone was going to get the satisfaction of killing her, then I was going to make sure it was me. 

I could hear the muffled voices inside, and one of them seemed to be yelling about something, but I couldn't quite make out what it was exactly. If I was right (and I always was), one of them would be sent out here in a minute. Their leader seemed to have quite the short fuse, which I respected, but I also knew that they were trying to play this smart. Whatever it was that they were after, I could not give two fucks. But they had something I wanted, and I wasn't about to let years of planning and hard work go down the drain. 

"Don't let your anger get the better of you. Take a walk," one of the girls instructed. "You need to cool off. Some back when you're more level-headed." And there was my cue. Perhaps I wouldn't have to go in there guns blazing after all. My hand blindly reached for the knife on my hip and I smirked. One would call me stupid for bringing a knife to a gun fight, but frankly, I had always felt more comfortable with knives. It wasn't as satisfying with a gun (and I had come to learn that through experience)

I stepped behind a wall, and watched as their leader came through the door into the hallway. Her mask was off and her hood was down as she pressed a piece of tissue against her nose. I could say a lot of things about Celia Clairmont, but I could also admit that I had severely underestimated her. She had a lot of fight in her, and I wouldn't make the same mistake twice. I'm not sure how long I stood there, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike, but patience was a game that I was rather good at. 

When her back was turned, I unsheathed my knife and crept up behind her. I had mastered stealth ages ago, to the point where I was practically silent as a mouse when I walked. She hadn't realized I was standing behind her until it was too late, and by the time she did realize, there wasn't anything she could do about it because my knife had already made quick work of slicing her throat. It was a clean cut, no hesitation whatsoever, and I helped lower her to the ground so that the thud of her body wouldn't alert the others. I was technically out numbered here, but I had the element of surprise to my advantage. The other two would be dead before they would even realize that it was no longer their friend under the mask. 

I carefully slipped the jumpsuit from her body, grateful that the black material would hide any traces of blood I'd got on her. Once the jumpsuit was on, I grabbed the final thing that would complete the ensemble. I slipped the mask over my face and raised the hood, and wiped down my knife so I could return it to its rightful spot on my hip, and took the gun that felt oddly out of place in my hands. I returned back into the room, my shoulders completely relaxed as I strolled in there. I made eye contact with Celia through the white mask, and she was looking at me with a strange expression. For a moment, I wondered if she could see through the mask, but that was silly. She didn't know that it was me under there. 

"Are you feeling better?" One of them asked me. I opted to nod instead of respond because they'd notice the different voice in an instant. "It's your turn to keep watch," she reminded me. I cocked my head to the side and my grip tightened on the gun in my hand. "Did you hear what I just said?" I nodded slowly. "So why are you-" I lifted my arm and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet right into her skull. The third one in the room reached for her gun, but she wasn't quick enough, because before she could even lift it to aim, I had shot her dead, too. 

She whispered something to the little boy in the room, and it took me a moment to even register that he was there at all. Something that felt an awful lot like pity took hold of my chest. I knew a thing or two about being traumatized as a child, so I couldn't help but feel for this boy whom I knew nothing about. For a moment, I wondered what would happen if I just ended it all right now. She wasn't going anywhere. I could lift the gun and pull the trigger and it would all be over. 

Sure, it wouldn't give me as much satisfaction, but there was always two more of them, right? I watched her as she pinched her eyes shut, almost expecting death, which for some reason, made me want to let her go even more. If she was going to die, I wanted her to know that it was me who did it. I wanted my face to be the last thing she saw before I would watch the life and the fight slowly fade out of her eyes. 

I bent down and untied her hands. In the time it would take her to untie her legs, I'd be out of there. I didn't want to risk her coming after me, and I was certain that this place would be flooding with feds soon enough, and I didn't want to be here when it did. I was sure she'd free the little boy before trying to come after me, which was noble, I could admit. Once I was out of the warehouse, I stripped off the jumpsuit and the mask, leaving me in the original clothes I had come in: black jeans and a black sweatshirt. I kept the gun, not wanting to risk my DNA being found on it when the cops showed up. 

She had no idea who was under that mask, and as far as they were concerned, it was merely a good samaritan that had showed up and freed her, only leaving three bodies behind. I trailed through the surrounding area until I found where I had parked my car earlier, and I was out of there in an instant. I rolled down my window, and I could very faintly hear the sound of sirens in the background, and I had no doubt that Celia's knight in shining armour would show up there and save the day yet again.

My hate for her and her family aside, I always wondered what it must have been like for her to have people in her life that cared about her so fiercely. Parents, brothers, cousin... I found myself wanting the life she had for the longest time before the jealousy soon stemmed into anger and resentment for her. I would have had the life she had. 

At the time, that was all I ever really wanted. A family, after the one I already had was ripped away from me and leaving me unable to do a damn thing about it. I was young at the time, practically a child. I had left the fate of my life in the hands of Alastor Clairmont, who didn't deserve to have that kind of power over me. 

Somewhere along the way, I took back my power over my life in one last attempt to say fuck you, old man. Fate was no longer going to dictate my life, because I had sworn to do that myself. I refused to let someone else tell me what was good for me or what I needed. I needed a family almost as badly as I wanted one, but I didn't have a choice in the matter. Now, I had options, and I refused to be left powerless once more. The last of my innocence died in that car alongside my brother, and alongside with Mila.