Psychopathy

Chapter 7- Scars

Despite her best efforts, Isabel didn't seem to be able to shake off the long finger-like tendrils of darkness that were creeping across her skin. She was on a pedestal of sorts, a shackle on each wrist. The chains attached to one wall each, stretching her arms as far as they could go without actually hurting her. She could struggle all she wanted, but there wasn't anything she could do to stop the incoming darkness.

Her captor, who looked more like the devil with each passing day, watched her struggle, amusement sparking in his cold eyes. Isabel shuddered as one of the tendrils ran down her back; she had expected them to be cold, or perhaps extremely hot- but instead, they just felt wet and slimy. They would eventually settle, and then a new tendril would traverse her body. It was only when one of the tendrils settled on her cheek that she understood.

They were setting up camp on her scars. Each and every scar. But what her captor's game was, that was what she had had yet to figure out. Watching her squirm as she tried to escape the darkness, she could understand that much. It was the part that dealt with her scars that she wasn't sure about, but she was sure she was about to find out.

He grinned at her, and suddenly, the lights in the room started to flicker, and the darkness disappeared from her body. She gasped in pain as all of her scars opened up at once, and the pedestal below her soon became slick with her blood.

***********************

Despite the fact that her wrists were still bound together, Ciara's hands still automatically flew to her chest to try and keep her shirt in place, and at once, Reid knew that was the wrong move. Not that he didn't understand why she made it- he completely understood. Even if there wasn't some secret she was trying to hide, she didn't want anyone seeing her body any more than Reid wanted to see it.

And he didn't, not really. Maybe one day, if things had somehow gone well between them, he would have come to want to. But for now, he didn't want to see Ciara so exposed, especially not like this, without her say-so. So, yes, he understood why she'd want to keep herself covered, but he also knew that such a move was bound to make the Unsub upset. He seemed to enjoy having power and control over her, and any refusal could potentially set him off.

But that was when Reid saw the panic in her eyes. The Unsub had hinted there was some secret Ciara was hiding with her clothing choice, but Reid had thought he was just taunting her. He had thought that the choice of long sleeves was just to help prevent accidental contact. But, boy, had he been wrong. There was a secret there- a secret so important to Ciara she'd rather deal with the pain of defying the Unsub rather than reveal it.

"Don't be shy," the Unsub said, but Ciara just shook her head, keeping her hands on her chest. The Unsub's face hardened, and after stashing his knife, he gripped her shoulders and forcibly turned her around to face him. Gently tsking her, he ran his hands through her hair, bringing it to the front, exposing her back.

And that was when Reid saw it.

He heard a few gasps in the room, and he knew everyone had seen it. After all, there was no way anybody could miss it. On her back was a scar, one that completely hurt to look at. Though, Reid had to admit, it probably hurt much more to get. The scar was purplish-red, vaguely cylindrical in shape, and looked to be about ten inches long and four inches wide, if he had to take a guess. Nestled between her shoulder blades, it started a few inches below her neck and ended near her mid-back.

"What is that?" Morgan asked in a hush, and Reid looked away from where the Unsub was whispering something in Ciara's ear. Most of the team was looking at him with their eyebrows raised, and it was Prentiss who finally spoke.