∗ ࣪ ˖༺ violent delights ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

you don't seem like the lying kind

morgan and i drive through the gritty streets of detroit, passing makeshift camps lining the sidewalks. the sight is eerie—groups of people huddling together, visibly on edge. "this doesn't add up," morgan says, glancing around. "people on the streets don't usually go out of their way to stick together like this."

"unless something's forced them to," i reply, noting how even the usual, like drug deals and prostitution, are happening in pairs or groups. "if our guy's been killing in this area, he's left a trail of fear." morgan pulls into a narrow alley, cutting the engine. "let's start with the most recent victim, see if anyone around here remembers seeing anything. i'll take the girls over there," he nods toward a small group by the street corner, "you check with the junkies." "keep dreaming." i laugh, rolling my eyes as we split up.

i approach the scattered people along the street, holding up pictures and asking if they've seen any of our victims. most ignore me; a few give me vague shakes of their heads. it's not until morgan waves me over that we finally catch a break. a young guy recognizes one of the faces—charles, a known addict, who hasn't been seen in days.

nearby, i chat with some of the women, who say girls have been disappearing. they've tried sticking together, but they're forced to go alone once clients call. when i show them a picture of william hightower, a few of them nod. they tell me he's been walking the streets, searching for someone.

we call hotch, relaying what we've learned. after his interview, hotch concludes that hightower isn't our unsub—he's a man haunted by the disappearance of his sister, desperate enough to crash his car into a border post just to get the fbi's attention. hotch and rossi work with the local department to release hightower into federal custody, hoping he'll be able to help us navigate the streets.

as they handle hightower's release, jj and reid are busy trying to contact the families of the ten victims. it's tough—many aren't from detroit, and their families are difficult to track down. garcia uncovers an odd detail: during five of the reported abductions, a nearby medical facility was broken into. no drugs were taken, just surgical tools. every break-in happened within the cass corridor, right in the thick of our unsub's hunting ground.

we gather to deliver the profile. "we're looking for a sexual sadist," hotch begins, outlining the unsub's probable psychology. "the surgical tools he stole suggest he's performing experiments or surgeries on his victims. it's about control, power, and the ability to keep his victims alive while he does it." "his god complex drives him," rossi adds. "he gets gratification from playing with life and death, from his ability to prolong suffering."

"he's extremely organized and intelligent," i continue, watching the officers' faces. "he's abducted all these people without a single witness. his medical knowledge means he's probably spent time in the field, maybe as a professional." hotch nods. "and we'll have sergeant hightower act as our guide on the streets. he's familiar with the area and knows the patterns here." as we wrap up, a quiet tension settles in the room. 

hightower's mother arrives, he greets her, then wraps her in a tight embrace. her eyes widen as she takes in the board of missing people, her gaze lingering on her daughter's picture. hotch steps forward, gently assuring her that there's a chance lee hightower may still be alive, though william quietly mutters his doubt, not wanting their mother clinging to false hope. outside, the sky begins to dim, shadows creeping across the precinct as the sun slips away. it's time to head out for the evening's canvassing. i join hotch, emily, morgan, hightower, and detective benning, each of us preparing for a night combing through the city streets.

in the car, hotch and i drive quietly, searching for signs, and eventually pull over by a group of young women. he approaches, holding up a few photos. "did you see any of these girls leave with customers?" he asks, his tone firm but respectful. one girl glances over. "i saw monica and sasha, but i don't know about kelly." "do you know where they'd go?" i ask, catching her eye. "there's a parking lot at cass park," she replies. "that's where the girls usually take their johns."

hotch nods and steps aside to call detective benning, requesting units be sent to cass park. while he's on the phone, i continue, "what about kelly? is there any reason you wouldn't have seen her leave?" the girl shrugs, chuckling. "i could've been distracted." i push a little. "so, kelly was here earlier?" "yeah." she mutters, clearly uninterested in helping us. "any reason she'd sneak off?" i press. she gives a smirk. "don't know. she's fresh meat out here."

hotch walks back over, phone in hand. "detroit pd confirmed two prostitutes with johns in cass park." "we're short one girl." i say, glancing at the photos in hotch's hand. i turn back to the women. "did you know a lee hightower?" the girl raises an eyebrow, looking between us. "you gonna hook me up?" "answer her." hotch says sharply. "yeah, i knew her." the girl finally admits. "was there somewhere special she'd go? a place she'd take clients that others wouldn't?" i ask.

she pauses, considering. "she wasn't out here regularly. kept trying to get a straight job, but it didn't stick. then, about a month ago, she said she was leaving for good." my mind races back to william, who mentioned that he'd taken lee to their mom's about a month ago. "i haven't seen her since." the girl adds. i nod. "thanks." hotch and i exchange a glance before heading back to the car. 

we call morgan, who fills us in on the scheme the victims had been pulled into—trading welfare checks for cash with a dealer. another girl, molly, has now gone missing, adding urgency to the situation. we head to the booth where the welfare checks are cashed, and the man running it confirms molly had been there minutes before, picked up by a dealer. he provides a description of the car, sparking hope that we can intercept the unsub before he leaves the city.

hightower suggests that the unsub might be using the old underground railroad tunnels to move undetected, a theory that garcia quickly backs up with a detailed map. she highlights a series of victorian houses that had once served as checkpoint stops during the civil war, pinpointing one that could conceal an entrance to the tunnels. hotch orders me to join him while the others form groups, and we head out to search the area.

as we drive through an empty field, i glance over. "are we sure this is the spot?" hotch nods, steering towards the coordinates garcia sent. "the house is inland, but it lines up with access points along the river." we step out into the field, flashlights sweeping across the marshy ground. the area is silent and eerie, shadows shifting as our lights cut through the darkness. "there's nothing here." i mutter, scanning the surroundings.

hotch gestures towards the river. "let's split up. check the edge of the water." i move through tall grass and underbrush, focusing on any signs of movement. then, something metallic glints from behind a dense thicket. moving closer, i see it's a car, partly concealed by the brush. "hotch! over here!" i shout. he rushes over, eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene. "looks like he might have stashed cars on both sides of the river." i say, noting the silver vehicle.

hotch peers under some branches. "license plate's missing." he pulls out his phone and calls garcia, reading out the VIN number i relay to him. within moments, garcia confirms the car belongs to mason turner—a former med student from toronto, now working in detroit at some research center. "we've got him," hotch says. "garcia, do you have an address?"

"yes, it looks like a farm." she replies, giving us the location. we regroup and race toward the farm, our convoy growing as police units join us. as we pull up, the outline of the barn and farmhouse looms in the darkness. i adjust emily's vest, fastening the last strap as we step out. hotch directs rossi, morgan, hightower, and emily to the barn while he, spencer, and i approach the house. my gun is ready as we inch up to the side door, and hotch quietly pushes it open.

inside, the air is stale, the rooms unkempt and neglected. we move forward, sweeping each corner, until we spot a figure lying on a bed, barely visible under the pale light filtering through the fogged windows. a man, frail and gaunt, is hooked up to a ventilator, eyes closed as he breathes shallowly.

i exchange a glance with hotch, our suspect's profile flashing through my mind. this man, whoever he is, seems far from the picture we had in mind.