The Shadows We Dance With

Ch33: The Abyss

The conference room at the Las Vegas Police Department was filled with tension as the members of the BAU prepared to deliver the profile. The officers who had gathered were eager for answers, desperate to understand the man they were hunting and why one of the FBI's own had been taken. Hotch stood at the head of the room, his expression grim but composed, ready to share what they had learned.

"As many of you know," Hotch began, his voice steady and authoritative, "we're dealing with a man named Valentino Marino. He's a former dance instructor who ran a prestigious academy and a nightclub that was shut down years ago. Marino is a manipulative, sadistic individual who preyed on young, vulnerable individuals, exploiting them for his own gain."

Hotch paused, making eye contact with each of the officers, ensuring they understood the gravity of the situation. "One of those individuals was our colleague, Dr. Spencer Reid. Marino manipulated and abused Reid for years, beginning when he was just a child. Reid eventually managed to escape, and it was his bravery that led to Marino's arrest and the dismantling of his operation."

The room was silent, the officers absorbing the information. They had known this case was personal for the BAU, but hearing the details made it even more poignant. They could sense the underlying fury in Hotch's voice, the barely contained anger that simmered beneath the surface.

"Marino has taken Reid because he believes he still owns him," Hotch continued. "In his twisted mind, Reid was his greatest creation, and he's spent years obsessing over getting him back. We believe Marino is holding Reid at the abandoned dance studio where he once taught. It's a place filled with memories for both of them, and Marino is likely using that to his advantage."

One of the officers raised a hand, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Why would he choose the studio? Why not some random place? Wouldn't he know we'd figure it out?"

JJ stepped forward to answer. "The studio is more than just a building to Marino—it's symbolic. It's where he created 'Angel,' the persona he forced Reid to become. By taking Reid back there, he's trying to reclaim what he believes he's lost. It's not just about hiding—it's about control, about breaking Reid down and making him feel like he's never truly escaped."

The officer nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. The rest of the team exchanged glances, the plan clear in their minds. They were going to storm the studio and bring Spencer home, no matter what it took.

Hotch looked around the room, the determination in his eyes reflected in the faces of his team. "Our priority is getting Reid out safely. Marino is dangerous, and he won't hesitate to use Reid against us. But we have to be smart, methodical. We've got officers surrounding the building, snipers on nearby rooftops, and a helicopter overhead. Marino won't be able to escape."

With a final nod, Hotch led the team out of the room, their focus shifting to the task at hand. They donned their FBI vests, checking their guns to ensure they were loaded and ready. The tension was palpable, a quiet intensity that underscored their every move. Deep down, they all wanted to take Valentino down, to make him pay for everything he'd done to Spencer, but they knew they had to stay focused on their main objective: getting Spencer back safely.

They rushed to the SUVs, the lights and sirens blaring as they sped toward the abandoned studio. The red and blue lights reflected off the wet pavement, the rain from earlier that night leaving the desert streets slick and shining. Garcia's voice crackled through their earpieces, guiding them as they navigated the darkened streets.

"Turn left here," Garcia instructed, her voice steady despite the anxiety she was undoubtedly feeling. "The studio is just up ahead. You'll see it on the right."

The SUVs screeched to a halt in front of the run-down building, the team hopping out of the vehicles with guns drawn, officers following close behind. The studio loomed before them, a hulking, decayed structure that had once been beautiful. The large front doors were weathered and worn, the windows shattered by years of neglect and vandalism.

Hotch pointed with two fingers, signaling for the officers to split up and cover the back of the building. The officers moved quickly, circling around the structure to block any potential escape routes. They had the building surrounded, with snipers positioned on nearby rooftops, their scopes trained on any possible exits. A police helicopter hovered above, its spotlight shining down on the decrepit building.

The BAU team approached the large front doors, the air thick with tension. Hotch and Morgan stepped forward, pushing against the heavy doors. The hinges creaked in protest, rusted from years of disuse, but after a few hard shoves, the doors groaned open, revealing the darkness inside.

The team moved in, flashlights mounted on their guns illuminating the lobby. The space was eerie, filled with the remnants of what had once been a grand, bustling place. Couches and chairs were draped with dusty sheets, shattered glass and debris crunching under their feet as they walked. The air was stale, the scent of decay lingering in the corners of the room.

They moved silently, methodically, canvassing the area as they made their way through the building. The officers who had entered from the back met them in the middle, their expressions tense as they continued to sweep the area. They moved through large dance studios, the mirrors on the walls reflecting their flashlight beams back at them. The sight was unsettling, the cracked and dirty mirrors warping their reflections.

As they passed through the different rooms, the team couldn't help but recognize some of the spaces from the videos they had seen—videos of a much younger Spencer, his life stolen from him in these very rooms. The thought made their stomachs turn, the horror of what had happened here only fueling their determination.

They searched every room, every corner, but the building was empty. The sense of dread grew with each passing minute, the realization that they might have been wrong starting to take hold. They had been so sure this was the place, that Valentino would bring Spencer here, to the heart of his past.

It was Rossi who noticed it—a shelf, oddly placed against a wall, slightly askew as if it had been moved recently. He called Morgan over, the two of them pushing the shelf aside to reveal a dark set of stairs leading down into a cold, damp basement.

The walls and steps were made of concrete, a stark contrast to the once-beautiful architecture of the rest of the academy. Water dripped from somewhere in the shadows, the sound echoing off the walls. The basement was different, far more sinister, and it left the team with a sense of foreboding. But there was no time to dwell on it. They were too close to finding Spencer, too close to getting him out of this nightmare.

Without a word, the team began their descent down the stairs, their flashlights piercing the darkness as they moved deeper into the unknown. The air grew colder with each step, the oppressive weight of the building's history pressing down on them.

They didn't know what they would find at the bottom of those stairs, but they knew one thing for certain: they would bring Spencer home. No matter what it took.

And with that determination, they continued down, into the abyss, ready to face whatever awaited them in the darkness.