тнe rυѕѕιan doll || spencer reid

TWENTY FOUR

Cold.

That was the first thing that Giselle felt as she regained consciousness.
Oh, it was so cold.
Hard, wet concrete surrounded her on all sides.

Next came the stench.
The air reeked of sewage and dust- a scent that Giselle was terrified to reencounter.
Her fingers were overloaded with sensation- a buzzing feeling surrounded her fingernails.
As she approached consciousness, Giselle noticed that it wasn't only her fingers that buzzed with sensation. In fact, her entire body was experiencing a sensory overload.

And yet, she still couldn't open her eyes.

As she tried to, swelling pushed her eyes closed.
Giselle opened her mouth to speak, suddenly taken aback by the dryness of her throat. She had been screaming.. but when? Giselle didn't remember when she was screaming.

And then it all came back.
The car. The policemen.
The sharp pain in the back of her neck.
As the memories of the day came flooding back to her like a broken dam, Giselle began to feel panic rise in her chest.

It was impossible for her to be back here.
There is no way the team would have let her go like this.

"Hello?"

Her voice echoed off the walls. As she changed positions in an attempt to stand up, Giselle felt her hands get pulled back.
She was tied up with something elastic yet firm.
This made the panic seep even deeper into her soul.
This was really happening.
And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"Hello?!"

She called out again, her voice rendering helpless.
And as her voice bounced off the walls once more, she heard footsteps approach from in front of her. Someone was coming.
These feet weren't heavy or urgent. They were slowly paced and almost... seductive.
They clicked menacingly- making a chilling sound ring throughout the room.

The person approaching was wearing heels- Giselle could tell simply from the sound.
The closer the footsteps got, the more Giselle felt herself fall into panic. This was an awfully familiar feeling... and Giselle wasn't sure if she could escape it this time.

And just as Giselle was about to yank at the ties once more, the footsteps stopped.
They were right in front of her.
Forcing one eye open ajar, Giselle managed to catch a glimpse of the shoes that her captor had on.
They were light blue Vuittons- hand crafted with a felt material. The tip of the shoe was pointed threateningly. Normally the light blue color would be seen as calm; non-threatening. But the owner of these shoes radiated a much different energy...
"And so we meet again..."
Chills ran down Giselle's spine.
She couldn't see the person in front of her, but she knew exactly who that voice belonged to.
It was Reagan.

"Did you like my little goon squad?"

The tall blonde's voice struck unmatched anger within Giselle. How could she have been so stupid? She should have known that this was all a trap. But no- she fell right into it. Just as she did last time.

Giselle maintained silence. She wasn't willing to give Reagan what she wanted. Not this time.

"Oh, is someone sad?"

Reagan stuck out her bottom lip mockingly- whining towards Giselle.

"Are you upset that I brought you here again?"

Once again, Giselle refused to respond. That would only fuel the fire that Reagan was attempting to light.

"I should have brought your little boyfriend here too. Oh, the things that I would do to him..."