❝She is passion embodied, a flower of melodrama in eternal bloom.❞
Michaela Prentiss is the very definition of inconsistent. It's no surprise, really, considering that she's never lived in one place for more than five consecutive years. She believes...
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There was something about today's case that made Emily Prentiss' blood run cold. Perhaps it was because of the brutality, or because it was eerily close to someone she loved. Either way, the unsettling feeling that nestled itself in her abdomen wasn't subsiding. She watched as Agent Jennifer Jareau flipped through the crime scene photos projected onto the board in the briefing room.
"Three men in less than two weeks – murdered on a college campus in Florida," JJ spoke, her voice emotionless as it always was when explaining a particularly brutal case. "All connected by the same M.O. First is Liam Harding, nineteen." A picture of Liam appeared on the screen, followed by a picture of his deceased, bloated body. "Next, Oliver Greene, twenty-two. And the most recent, Noah Reede, eighteen. All had multiple stab wounds to the chest and abdomen, all were castrated before their death which was caused by exsanguination."
"Castration usually indicates a sexual motivation behind the crime, were there any signs of sexual assault?"
"No, none," JJ answered Derek's question.
"Maybe our unsub had some sort of psychotic break?" Rossi suggested, sitting opposite of Emily at the round table.
"There's no sexual motivation, which is most common in male killers," Spencer began. "Perhaps our unsub is a woman living out some sort of revenge fantasy. It is a college campus, after all. It's estimated that twenty-three percent of undergrads living on campus will experience sexual assault with only eight percent making a report," he stated.
Emily, who hadn't commented on the case at all, finally spoke up. "JJ, where did you say this was?"
"The University of Miami."
At JJ's answer, Emily began to understand why that uncomfortable feeling had made a home in her stomach. "University of Miami," she repeated. "My sister goes there, she lives on campus. Maybe she knows something the police don't."
"Alright," Aaron said. "Wheels up in thirty. When we get there, Prentiss, you take Reid and get in contact with your sister. See if she's heard anything. JJ and I will go to the station, pick up any information we might not have yet. Morgan and Rossi, I want you two to work the scene."
And with that, everyone stood from their seats at the round table and set out to catch yet another killer.
✖
Michaela felt her cell phone vibrate in her back pocket, but she ignored it in order to completely engross herself in the lecture her English teacher was giving.
Today's lesson was about classic literature that was contrarily controversial upon publication. Classic fiction was Michaela's favorite genre to read, and she hung on every word her professor uttered. So much so, that the uninterested students around her faded out of her focus.
"We've all read Wuthering Heights," Professor Miller said. "I can safely say that because I don't assume that anyone of you would sign up for my class looking for a good time," he paused, smiling at the quiet laughs at his bad joke. "Wuthering Heights wasn't popular until many years after it's publication. Emily Brontë depicted graphic forms of abuse – physical and mental. It might not seem graphic to us now, but it certainly was at the time."
