𝔸𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕤𝕠𝕟

𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕪;

[Emma's POV]

I just started with the BAU last week, I am one of the best they said, they needed me. I obliged because the killer they wanted me to interview has been on my list since she was caught six months ago. Y/n Y/L/N. A female, taller height for a female- taller than me in other words- nice build. A tattoo sleeve down her left bicep all the way to the wrist.

Beautiful Y/E/C and Y/H/L Y/H/C. I could get lost in those eyes, but I was rather good at my job. She looked intimidating in the picture, but I reckon she wasn't too bad. It wouldn't be hard to determine her motive, in fact Agent Prentiss had already figured it out. She murdered men that were allegedly rapist. I was just going to evaluate her.

"Are you sure you can do this?" JJ asked me, I nodded lightly, looking through the glass barrier between the two of us. She was attractive, I will never be one to lie. I shallowed the lump in throat before stepping inside the room. The taller girl smiled over at me.

"Aw. I was expected a man," she voiced. I shot a confused look, she continued to explain, "With people like-like me, men don't like me to hot. I killed some of them as you know, so then tend to be rougher with me, a woman, well, I might actually talk to another woman."

"Why is that?" I asked cautiously, sitting down pulling out papers.

She only spoke after moments of silence, "Not saying anybody deserves it, but men are to bone headed to see why I did what I did, now I imagine you'll still send me away for a long time after this conversation, but before you even stepped inside here you knew exactly- just as that black-haired agent- why I did it." I pushed the glasses back up on my face. I couldn't look at her too long, she was rather gorgeous up close.

I shifted in my seat, "Of course. Common pattern is that they were rapist, anybody could see that."

"Exactly. But do you think the Agent before you, or the one before that understood no? But if I were a man killing hookers it'd be a different case, maybe they'd praise me for cleansing the streets," she paused. She sat up in her seat, leaning towards me, I caught a whiff of her, she smelled rather pleasant for a prison inmate. "I suppose you've worked with egomaniacal dickwads yes? Assuming you have you can clearly understand why I agree to this."

"Y-yes," I stuttered out. "It's quite obvious, now do you mind if I ask you some questions?"

"Of course not."

"What made you want to kill?"

"Mm," she brought her finger to her mouth. "My sister was murdered by her rapist, he was my first. Jake Donavan, forty-nine, convicted, let go on bail. He murdered a thirteen year old forty minutes after his release." I look over at her in shock. "I suppose trading one crime for another isn't acceptable, but he had a garage filled with his targets."

"Why not call the police?"

"For a man like him? Let out on bail, or good behavior, or whatever the justice system says. He was 'normal' had a wife two kids, he was the man everyone would defend, but his DNA was found all over my sister."

"The next guy."

"Ryan Davis, twenty-eight, had an eleven month year old, a stable job and a wife. He rapped a twelve year old, on release he rapped a ten year old. I caught him trying again, that time I did called the police, they told me they couldn't do anything until there was prove. What did they want me to fucking send? A video? A photo? Or call in the dead body after he killed the child? No, no, I did what I do best, prevented it, and I don't regret it."

"Next." I tried not to show too much sympathy for her.

"Andrew Rivers, fifty-nine, single, sex-offender. Ushered girls off their school bus and into his home, over sixty girls. Over sixty!" she slammed her hand down, oh my god.