The Weeping Angel and The Knowlagable Prophet (A Spencer Reid love story)

The Box of Hearts

When everything you do
Don't seem to matter.
You try but it's no use
Your world is getting blacker.
~Skillet 'Sick of it'

(Arcàngel P.O.V.)
Arcàngel ran faster and faster as the man behind him picked up speed. Turning down alleyways, jumping over cars... He's done this multiple times. Rain poured from the heavens as their feet hammered the pavement. Soon, an explosion went off near him and he stopped running and shouted again;
"ROSE!" An explosion went off right beside him, the wires pulled him back, and he fell on the air mattress below him. Someone, Mark most likely, yelled;
"CUT!" Arcàngel stood up and unhooked the wires from his back. He soon got an umbrella thrown at him. Lightly, of course. The rain continued and his sister came into veiw with an umbrella of her own. The crew decided that was a good shoot and didn't need any retakes.
"Hey, bro bro!" His sister called to him, smiling. He knew that look in her eyes. That look that said: 'Something completely and undeniably terrible \ horrible \ gruesome happened, but I'm masking it with happiness.' Yeah. That one. The cops started showing up, making everyone confused. Rose took his hand and pulled him to their dressing room, signaling the cops to follow.
"What's wrong? Why are the cops here?" He asked his sister. The girl had more mussel than he did, so she just kept pulling.

Once in the dressing room, she pointed to his desk and there lay a box upon it. It was about the size of his head and had a note on it. It was stained red on the bottom, giving him a sick feeling in his stomach. A metallic smell came from it, conferming his suspision. Blood.
"I only read the note... But I saw the blood and- and panicked." He was about to go into a huge ramble about the origin of the word panic until his curiosity got the best of him. He took the note, already torn open, and nearly puked from the smell. The letter looked typed. 25, Times New Roman. Damn. He could have gotten something if it was writen. He read it in no time, being him.

Arcàngel,
I see you got my... gift. It's lovely, no? Any who, nice shoot the other day. Loved the way you ran as if you were being chased by me. Of course, neither of us know what that's like yet. Remember this though. I'm always watching. I'd be glad to add you to my collection.
Until then, love.

He saw a few pictures in the envelope with pictures of him and his sister. A few were of people he didn't know. He peaked in the box to find it full of hearts. Real life hearts. One was slightly still beating, then stopped. He looked at the photos to memorize them. Then the cops came in and took them, the note and the box of hearts, away.
'Sweet merciful lord.'

*Somewhere in Quanico*
(Spencer's P.O.V.)
"Fifteen men in the Seattle area have been found with their hearts cut out of there chests. Yet it looks like they were torn out. One person has been missing for about a week and is a potentional victim." Garcia started. The photos were gruesome. A picture of the man that has gone missing soon took up the screen. Or so we thought. His big blue eyes looked back at us as he smiled.
"He's six." Drew Sampson, a newer, younger agent, pointed out. She's a sweetheart, just to clingy... To me that is. "The victims are usually in their mid to late twenties. Why the sudden change?"
"Well he has a type. Blue eyes. That hasn't changed." I said. "Heart shaped faces as well." Hotch stood up and walked to the screen and Garcia flipped to the next image to show one of the more modern authors I've been reading. Arcàngel Salvador, I believe.
"Earlier this morning around three twenty five, Rose Salvador called from her movie set, about finding a box with blood on it addressed to her twin brother and Co actor, Arcàngel Salvador. Inside they found the victims hearts, a note, and pictures of the twins as well as the victims." He stated. "We'll have have to go and investegate as well as protect the twins. Wheels up in ten." Garcia smiled because she gets to come with us. She rushes to go pack her travel tech. I already have my bag ready, as always. Morgan usually gets some things from his desk. Same with Rossi and Sampson. I picked up his book. The man we're going to protect. The book I'm reading is the newest one in the series. It's called: 'Love bites... So do I.' It's not exactly a romance novel like you'd think it would be. I enjoy all of his books. He has many. He's been writing since he was sixteen. Though he's now twenty eight, he still writes like he did. He's young, but his writing makes it sound like he's ancient. Beautiful in there own way. I had all his books in a backpack because I usually finish my paper work before everyone else, so I can dive into the world of Colon Moiré, a vampire who can control peoples minds and get them to do his bidding. He's a good guy though. He hates doing it so he only dose it when he has to. That's right. I read cool stuff.
"I've never read his books before." Garcia said. This is going to be an intresting flight.