The Woods, 7/?
JJ paced the police station impatiently. It was almost dark, and Reid and Rossi had not returned from their reconnaissance of the crime scene. There were now four agents lost in the woods, and if JJ’s suspicions were correct, then the woods were the last place any of them wanted to be right now. Hotch was on the phone with Garcia, as the technical analyst ran traces on the cell phones of their four missing agents. He wasn’t optimistic; cell reception in Roxbury, New Hampshire was sporadic at best.
JJ tried her best not to listen to the conversation. Her eyes focused on the carpeted floor. If there really was something…supernatural going on, then there was a fair chance she had, for all intents and purposes, killed four of her colleagues and friends. It was not a comforting thought.
She jumped at the sound of Hotch snapping his cell shut. There was an indecipherable look on his face; even more indecipherable than usual.
‘No luck tracing the cells,’ he told her. She nodded, trying not to betray the fear she was feeling. Hotch hadn’t finished, though. ‘I also had her look for similar cases in surrounding towns. One particular case stood out.’
JJ’s heart skipped a beat.
‘Why didn’t you tell me that your father was killed in a New Hampshire forest, JJ? That his killer was never found.’
JJ was not quite sure how to respond to the question. There was a disappointment in his voice that was rarely, if ever directed towards her.
‘It was twenty years ago, Hotch,’ she said shakily, fully aware that she was about to tell him the whole story. ‘In Benton. Two counties over. My grandparents lived there. I was eight years old, playing near the edge of the woods. I ran in, for some reason. I can’t even remember why. I got lost. It felt like days, but later...they said it was only nine hours. My father found me, and then...then he died.’
Hotch furrowed his brow. It wasn’t the most informative conclusion to the story, but he could see that remembering the event had shaken up JJ considerably. He put a hand on her arm.
‘What do you remember, JJ?’ he asked, softly.
JJ straightened. His hand was warm, and it felt right. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered. ‘I have these memories, but they’re so dark...they can’t be real. I can remember seeing the blood drip from his chest. The look on his face. The look on its face.’
This answer was met with a frown from Hotch, one that he tried to suppress. ‘”It?”’ he asked.
‘It was seven feet tall, at least. Long claws, dripping with blood. Always dripping with blood. It killed my father, and left me there, screaming.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t even remember if that’s what happened, or if that’s what my nightmares made me remember happened.’
Hotch took a deep breath. Her revelations had made what he was going to say next even harder. ‘We have to go out there.’
* * *
It was a very strange sight, Rossi reasoned, and that was saying something. David Rossi had seen a lot of strange things in his career. Serial killers cuddling up with six-year-old girls. Good people driven to the point of madness. This, without a doubt, took the cake.
He saw one of his colleagues dropped to the ground by the tree that had been restraining, her and the other jumped by a seven-foot tall clawed monster. He saw Prentiss fire twice at the monster, both her shots missing. He spent several precious seconds enthralled by the scene.
‘Hey!’ he called out, if only to distract the monster’s attention. That, coupled with Reid’s presence seemed to send the creature spiralling into doubt.
It ran.
Rossi fired two shots after it, positive that at least one hit. He wasn’t going to pursue it, though. Not when both Prentiss and Morgan were injured.
‘I’m fine, man!’ Morgan said, at Reid’s attempts to help him up, but Rossi could see that the profiler was anything but fine. There were three long gashes in his chest; deep wounds that were already staining his t-shirt red. He was still alert, though, which was more than could be said for Prentiss.
‘Emily. Emily, can you hear me?’ Her eyes were shut, her teeth gritted with pain. ‘Tell me where it hurts.’
She blinked slowly, opening her mouth, and flinching at even that slight movement.
‘Ribs,’ she whispered eventually, voice rasping. ‘Clavicle.’
Rossi turned to Reid with a questioning look. ‘Broken ribs could result in pain with breathing or with movement. Clavicle too has pain with any movement, in addition to swelling, possibly nausea, dizziness and spotty vision due to this extreme pain.’ As if in response to this statement, Prentiss rolled slightly to vomit her stomach contents onto the ground beside Rossi’s shoes. The resulting stabbing pains that shot through her body caused a load moan.
Morgan was at her side within a second. ‘We’re here, Em. It’s going to be okay.’ He didn’t want to touch her, for fear of exacerbating the pain. Instead, he settled on sitting beside her, making sure that if she needed anything, he was there.
‘What happened?’ asked Rossi.
Morgan frowned. ‘You didn’t see the crazy monster that was trying to rip my chest open?’ He emphasised the word “trying”, as if he wasn’t losing blood rapidly.
‘So you’re saying that there are monsters in these woods.’
‘Not only that,’ said Morgan dolefully. ‘But the woods themselves are pretty fucked up too.’
Rossi raised an eyebrow.
‘I dunno, man,’ said Morgan, shifting his position. He felt light-headed, his mind fuzzy. ‘But this...this really, isn’t...’ His eyes rolled backwards in his head, and he slumped to the ground beside his injured colleague.
‘That wasn’t from blood loss,’ said Reid, frowning. ‘Do you think there was some kind of poison on the beast’s claws?’ Reid was sounding far more excited than he had any right to.
‘I have no idea,’ replied Rossi bluntly. This was a new and strange situation, and he didn’t like it.
He didn’t like it at all.
JJ tried her best not to listen to the conversation. Her eyes focused on the carpeted floor. If there really was something…supernatural going on, then there was a fair chance she had, for all intents and purposes, killed four of her colleagues and friends. It was not a comforting thought.
She jumped at the sound of Hotch snapping his cell shut. There was an indecipherable look on his face; even more indecipherable than usual.
‘No luck tracing the cells,’ he told her. She nodded, trying not to betray the fear she was feeling. Hotch hadn’t finished, though. ‘I also had her look for similar cases in surrounding towns. One particular case stood out.’
JJ’s heart skipped a beat.
‘Why didn’t you tell me that your father was killed in a New Hampshire forest, JJ? That his killer was never found.’
JJ was not quite sure how to respond to the question. There was a disappointment in his voice that was rarely, if ever directed towards her.
‘It was twenty years ago, Hotch,’ she said shakily, fully aware that she was about to tell him the whole story. ‘In Benton. Two counties over. My grandparents lived there. I was eight years old, playing near the edge of the woods. I ran in, for some reason. I can’t even remember why. I got lost. It felt like days, but later...they said it was only nine hours. My father found me, and then...then he died.’
Hotch furrowed his brow. It wasn’t the most informative conclusion to the story, but he could see that remembering the event had shaken up JJ considerably. He put a hand on her arm.
‘What do you remember, JJ?’ he asked, softly.
JJ straightened. His hand was warm, and it felt right. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered. ‘I have these memories, but they’re so dark...they can’t be real. I can remember seeing the blood drip from his chest. The look on his face. The look on its face.’
This answer was met with a frown from Hotch, one that he tried to suppress. ‘”It?”’ he asked.
‘It was seven feet tall, at least. Long claws, dripping with blood. Always dripping with blood. It killed my father, and left me there, screaming.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t even remember if that’s what happened, or if that’s what my nightmares made me remember happened.’
Hotch took a deep breath. Her revelations had made what he was going to say next even harder. ‘We have to go out there.’
* * *
It was a very strange sight, Rossi reasoned, and that was saying something. David Rossi had seen a lot of strange things in his career. Serial killers cuddling up with six-year-old girls. Good people driven to the point of madness. This, without a doubt, took the cake.
He saw one of his colleagues dropped to the ground by the tree that had been restraining, her and the other jumped by a seven-foot tall clawed monster. He saw Prentiss fire twice at the monster, both her shots missing. He spent several precious seconds enthralled by the scene.
‘Hey!’ he called out, if only to distract the monster’s attention. That, coupled with Reid’s presence seemed to send the creature spiralling into doubt.
It ran.
Rossi fired two shots after it, positive that at least one hit. He wasn’t going to pursue it, though. Not when both Prentiss and Morgan were injured.
‘I’m fine, man!’ Morgan said, at Reid’s attempts to help him up, but Rossi could see that the profiler was anything but fine. There were three long gashes in his chest; deep wounds that were already staining his t-shirt red. He was still alert, though, which was more than could be said for Prentiss.
‘Emily. Emily, can you hear me?’ Her eyes were shut, her teeth gritted with pain. ‘Tell me where it hurts.’
She blinked slowly, opening her mouth, and flinching at even that slight movement.
‘Ribs,’ she whispered eventually, voice rasping. ‘Clavicle.’
Rossi turned to Reid with a questioning look. ‘Broken ribs could result in pain with breathing or with movement. Clavicle too has pain with any movement, in addition to swelling, possibly nausea, dizziness and spotty vision due to this extreme pain.’ As if in response to this statement, Prentiss rolled slightly to vomit her stomach contents onto the ground beside Rossi’s shoes. The resulting stabbing pains that shot through her body caused a load moan.
Morgan was at her side within a second. ‘We’re here, Em. It’s going to be okay.’ He didn’t want to touch her, for fear of exacerbating the pain. Instead, he settled on sitting beside her, making sure that if she needed anything, he was there.
‘What happened?’ asked Rossi.
Morgan frowned. ‘You didn’t see the crazy monster that was trying to rip my chest open?’ He emphasised the word “trying”, as if he wasn’t losing blood rapidly.
‘So you’re saying that there are monsters in these woods.’
‘Not only that,’ said Morgan dolefully. ‘But the woods themselves are pretty fucked up too.’
Rossi raised an eyebrow.
‘I dunno, man,’ said Morgan, shifting his position. He felt light-headed, his mind fuzzy. ‘But this...this really, isn’t...’ His eyes rolled backwards in his head, and he slumped to the ground beside his injured colleague.
‘That wasn’t from blood loss,’ said Reid, frowning. ‘Do you think there was some kind of poison on the beast’s claws?’ Reid was sounding far more excited than he had any right to.
‘I have no idea,’ replied Rossi bluntly. This was a new and strange situation, and he didn’t like it.
He didn’t like it at all.