spencer reid - one shots.

4. abducted

(four part
       series)

     Please let me go." Paislee Morris cried out, her chest erratically rising and dropping along with her slowing heartbeat. "Please."

"I can't do that, love." Her abductor replied in a brisk voice, crouching down to make level with her eyesight. "I have to keep you. I need you."

"I don't even know you..." She breathed out, lip quivering violently. "Please."

"Does it hurt?" The man asked, looking down to the several cuts and horrid gashes on her body. The wounds had been forced open due to him plunging his hand through it, blood seeping out.

Paislee looked down, her eyes widening at the blood running down her half-naked body. The woman's head shot up to stare at the man who did this to her, suddenly confused at one important thing she was feeling—or, not feeling. Her eyebrows furrowed, downright terrified but still confused at what she saw. "Why...doesn't it hurt?" She whispered.

He smiled, almost a little too innocently, turning around and picking up a glass bottle filled with clear liquid, and a syringe. "It's morphine. It makes the pain go away."

She almost smiled. Almost. Paislee understood now why she was feeling so calm; almost safe because of this drug. But when he began filling up the syringe again, her eyes widened.

"You-you can't give me that much, I'll overdose." Paislee said, her eyes widening and shaking her head.

He eyed her sympathetically, tightening the rope around her bicep to cut off the circulation there. "It'll feel better."

"No! I don't want it. Please. Please." She begged, tears prickling painfully in her dry eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"Wait!" Paislee screamed, the man stopping the needle right above the skin. "Give me your name."

"Mylin Weathers." The man replied, his voice blank.

"Mylin, you said that you needed me. Why-why do you want to kill me?" She asked softly, her heart beating hard against her chest as she felt the tip of the needle graze on her skin.

"That's the only way I can keep you." He replied.

"No, it's not. I'll be gone. I'll be dead."

"You're dead in this world, already." Mylin replied only a sad voice.

He's right. Paislee thought, forcing her eyes closed as a tear ran down her cheek. He was so right. And the fact that she couldn't argue with this man only made her realize how fucked up it actually was. How this world, was.

"Do it." She whispered, biting down on her lip as she felt the needle dig into her skin, for one last time.

—

"Mylin Weathers." Penelope Garcia introduced, gesturing to her television monitor with a smile. "This is our unsub. He's a plastic surgeon located in the southern side of Virginia."

"He's killed three other women—Tinny Garfield, Hally Morisson, and Marissa Wen." The tech analyst said, switching the screen to display three dead bodies of the woman.

"They all look the same." Spencer noted, squinting at the uncanny familiarity between each victim.

"Yes. Each were found dead with high levels of morphine inside of their bodies. They overdosed. Well, the unsub overdosed them." She said, pressing her lips together.

"Makes since that he uses that to kill, morphine is used a lot in plastic surgery." Rossi noted, nodding.

"A new victim has been abducted—her name is Paislee Morris. She's a medical student at Georgetown." Garcia said, moving on to the next photo.