Up in Flames | Spencer Reid x Reader |

Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Preacher for the Devil

A warm breath ghosted on your cheek.

It was soothing and everlasting.

But your eyes bolted open. You recognized the ominous figure from the corner of your vision. You remained in the same position, your gaze locked upon the ceiling as fear tied your limbs down to the bed.

Breathe, damn it. You remind yourself. Breathe.

Eventually, your brain clued in and permitted your lungs to fill with sweet air. Your limbs broke free from the bonds of dismay and you topple off the bed. You knew she was still lying there yet, you distract your vision onto something more pleasant.

​​​​​​This is preposterous. You chanted to yourself. You attempted to convince yourself that the only way to have avoided this was to not be alone. So far, the truth has been just that. You never hallucinate when people were around. The images of Hilgara Morrison only haunted you when you were alone. And that's when you were most vulnerable.

When you were alone, your logic always failed and you actually fall for the absurd idea that a dead girl was there.

You were at the girl's funeral.

You saw the men lower her coffin into the burial.

Your breath trembled as you reach for your headphones. You increased the volume, allowing your most hated screamo tunes raid your mind. In the brief time frame, you manage to wash your face, pull out a clean pair of clothes and dressed.

Your eyes flickered towards where the hallucination sat. But you forced your gaze away from her face, knowing a glimpse of her childlike features would break you.

You were finally dressed. You wore your comfort jeans, clean shirt, red cardigan and brown heeled boots. You slipped on your leather jacket, remembering something from the radio. The weather was told to turn for the worst this week. You kept your headphones on, noticing your concentration was sharper when Goodman's tune played.

You snatched one of your mother's scarfs from the closet and draped it neatly around your neck. You caught a quick glimpse of the mirror on your way out the door, which caused you to pause and adjust your attire one last time.

The music had finished.

Inevitably, your heart beat skipped as well.

And your eyes drifted towards the grey-eyed child remaining sedentary.

For that cursory of time, you could see the desperation leaking onto her hollow and wretched features.

"He's coming..." Hilgara mouthed, with tears streaming down her cheeks.

You knew that there was no way in hell you get out of this.

☣☣☣

"So what do you think?"

Color, scent and sound returned to your atmosphere. You blinked, momentarily taking in your surroundings. You were in your office, logging your hours. Your desk was cleared and your pen-lid was still open. You glanced towards Casha who's unyielding had put you on the hot seat. "Pardon?"

"Do you want to join us?" She repeated herself, sounding agitated.

You furrowed your brows, craning your chair around to gain a better view of the woman. "I'm sorry. Joining who?"

Casha heaved a sigh before she spun on her heels. "I knew better than to ask. I knew you wouldn't."

"What? Wait," You perched to your feet, chasing after the brunette. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Casha. I promise you, I didn't hear a word. What were you asking?"