𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 [spencer reid]

32. in that moment

𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏, 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 again before she could make an attempted run for her life. Except, instead of being met with the chilling draft from the metal dungeon, she was hit with a rush of cold, pre-winter wind. Fresh air. She recognized the cushion beneath her as dry terrain rather than hardwood. This time, her knees were pulled to her chest, wrists and ankles tied. Her head rested on her kneecaps, and once she managed to raise it, Francesca felt the pit in her stomach deepen. It was just as dark as before, but spots above her indicated the presence of stars. For miles there was nothing but grass, and her drug-influenced brain wasn't operating well enough to make the connection about where she was.

         Aside from the repetitive cricket noises, Francesca picked up on a reluctant clicking. She turned her head, her kidnapper sitting a few feet away. With a concentrated scowl on his face, he messed with the trigger of a gun. He glanced up at her quickly, and once he noticed she had awoken, Patrick's smirk reformed. "Just getting used to it," he called out. "You know, for when I blow your brains out."

        "You won't," Francesca sneered, throat sore. She felt chills take over her, and her paranoid mind immediately blamed it on the drugs rather than the weather. As much as she wanted to find a way to fight, she just wanted to truly rest. It was all too exhausting.

         "You always did that," Patrick groaned, standing up to approach her. He held the gun in her direction, Francesca's twitches indicating her fear. "You always discredited me. Told me I couldn't or wouldn't do things that I wanted to do. I am capable of more than you can imagine, Francesca Griffin. Don't be fooled."

        Patrick stepped closer, stopping right in front of her. He lightly pressed the gun to the girl's forehead, "Better get this over with before your FBI agents show up." Francesca suddenly felt a glimmer of hope. That's why he had to move me, she thought. Spencer's coming.

         However, despite her newfound spark, Francesca's soul left her body the second Patrick pulled the trigger. But, instead of a bullet launching through her skull, Francesca was met with a small click. "Ha! You should've seen yourself just then!" Patrick jovially exclaimed, pure excitement on his face while he pointed at her and laughed. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't play your favorite game with you?"

         Francesca's shivers intensified as she cursed herself for the idea she may have put in his head. She recalled one summer day when she playfully squirted Patrick with a water gun, making a poor joke about how she'd spend any sum of money for a a Russian Roulette Nerf gun. She was marveled by how his twisted mind could interpret such a thing so wrong, but she didn't have time to ponder on that. It was only a matter of time until he won.