Jaella's POV
Cold.
That's the first thing that I notice when coming to my senses each morning. Or is it even morning when they decide to wake me up? I've had no concept of time since they've kept me in this room. When I first arrived I tried to look for any distinct things that could point out where I am. All that I can see is four dark walls and one metallic door.
I'm fed enough food and water to keep me alive, barely.
My own blood coats my skin and the outfit that I was made change in to. The blood has now turned a rust colour, due to the oxidation. That is the only thing that tells me that I've been her for more than a few days. The clothes aren't unlike the ones that I used to wear in my stripping days. You can't expect any less from these pigs.
A different man comes in, dressed in all black, every so often. He plunges a syringe into my arm. I don't know what it contains. I don't want to know. A little while later, my senses are heightened. I hear clearer and feel more. This, of course, is lovely when they decide to take out their tools. I'm strapped tightly to a stretcher-like table as they decide to make cuts and gashes, whatever they feel like that day. It's always a new person every time, as if they all want a go playing Operation. I've never seen their faces, they decide to cover them up for some sick reason. The pain is always excruciating.
I scream. I wither. I beg. But I do not cry. I will not give them the satisfaction of seeing my tears.
Just as I'm about to fall into a restless sleep, the door opens again. Kurt. It's the first face that I've seen in.. I don't know how long. I hate it. I try to sink deeper into the corner of the room.
"Morning Angel," greets Kurt in a sickly sweet voice.
"Don't call me that name," I manage to spit out.
His head rolls back and he lets out a menacing laugh. He quickly snaps back up and meets my eyes.
"You are in no position to be making demands. I always thought that Angel was a good name for you. Pure. Innocent. You chose it yourself didn't you?" He crouches down and holds his face mere inches away from mine. "Back when you did whatever I wanted."
I don't know where the energy comes from but I use the heel of my hand and jab it into his disgusting face. He stumbles back clutching his nose in pain. Once he finishes being a little bitch he turns back to me with rage coating his features.
"You are lucky that today is a special day Angel, otherwise you'd be begging for mercy," he says, malice dripping from every word. He takes out a phone from his back pocket. "Why don't we give your friends at the BAU a call? I'm sure they're dying to hear from you."
Spencer's POV
Thirteen days. Almost two weeks that Jaella has been missing. I've hardly slept. I forget to eat. We've followed every lead that we could possibly have. We searched her childhood home, the previous Black Diamonds headquarters and all known places where the gang did business six years ago. We even went back to the prison where the Black Diamonds were held. Apparently only five managed to escape, but that's five serial killers holding Jaella captive.
I can't- I don't want to imagine what they're doing to her. Although, my mind still wanders. They wouldn't have killed her this soon. No. If studying murderous behaviour has taught me anything, is that these guys want for her to suffer.
"We're getting a call from an anonymous number," says Emily nervously, walking into the briefing room.
"Answer it," demands Hotch. "Make sure that they talk first. Garcia try to track where the call is coming from."
Emily presses the accept button on the call and puts it on speaker whilst laying the phone on the table, in between us all.
"Hello agents of the BAU," says a menacing voice.
"This is Agent Aaron Hotchner. Do you have Jaella Fox?"
There's a laugh from the end of the phone. "No, sorry. I don't know a Jaella. Though you may be talking about Angel. Let me put you on to her."
We all look around at each other. Nobody knows what to do. Garcia has a panicked look on her face and I can only hope that she's tracking the call.
"H-hello?" says a croaky voice.
I breathe a sigh of relief.
She is still alive. We can still get her back.
"Jaella this is Hotch. Can you tell me anything about where you are? What are your surroundings?"
"Take me off speaker," she manages to choke out. Fear lacing her words. I can tell that she isn't willingly saying this. "Put me on to Spencer."
My breath catches in my throat but I quickly recover and take the phone off speaker and hastily hold it to my ear.
"Hey it's me," I say soothingly. "Don't worry, we're going to find you."
"Spencer I-" Her words are cut off by the sound of a smack. I wince and bite the inside of my cheek to stop from shouting. I hear the crumple of paper. She must be being made read something. "You can see me tonight, at ten. I hope that you'll be watching."
The voice changes. "Be there to see her. Personally, I wouldn't bother trying to get her back, just enjoy the show."
The phone cuts off.
"Something is going to happen at ten tonight that we've got to be ready for," I say with furrowed brows to the team.
Hotch nods. "Garcia where was that call coming from? Are you able to triangulate it?"
"I-I don't know. They must have a strong held software because I could only get within a twenty kilometre radius," she says, sounding defeated.
"He called her Angel," I whisper under my breath.
"What are you onto Reid?" asks Morgan from across the table.
I stand so abruptly that my chair almost falls over.
"He- he called her Angel."
"Yeah, probably some perverted nickname he came up with," comments JJ.
"No he treated it as if it was her name. He said that Jaella wasn't there. What if he said that because that's how he knows her?"
"You think that that was her name back when they knew each other?" Rossi asks.
"I think that's what she called herself. Most exotic dancers come up with a faux identity, to disconnect with the character that they have to play." My eyes widen at the words that have just escaped my lips. I turn to the technical analyst. "Garcia how many strip clubs are within those forty kilometres?"
"Em," she clicks on her keyboard, eyes scanning the screen. "Seventeen in total."
Too many. She would've been taken somewhere abandoned.
"What about clubs that've mysteriously gone out of business?"
More clicking. "Three. They all belonged to the same man until he disappeared six years ago. Oh my god."
I walk to behind Garcia to see the computer. There, on the screen is a picture of none other than Kurt Slayne.
Spencyboi here to solve the case. Yup lads let's rock and roll.
YOU ARE READING
Sinner | Spencer Reid
Fanfiction"He tends to ramble a lot," she says leaning in closer. "I don't mind it," I reply. "Actually, I think it's kind of cute." Jaella Fox, an FBI agent with seductive skills is called to the BAU to help with a murder case. She meets a man with hazel e...
