Be Safe (Criminal Minds/Spencer Reid x OC romantic Fanfic)

DISTRACTIONS

AMITY POV

As I put the phone down I go to the boxes in the corner and open the top one up, it's full of tins of food. I push the phone to the bottom of the box and surveyed the room I was being held in.

I have this ability to switch off my emotions, and logically think. I don't know how I do it, but I do. I have been able to do it since I was young. Although there was fear buzzing in every part of my body, there was a distinct weight of sadness weighing on me too. My parents. My wonderful, supportive parents. Gone. Tears stung my eyes but I pushed them back. My survival instincts have kicked in. I need to get out of here.

I rifle through the other boxes, there's tin of food, lots of tins of food. I open the next box, toilet roll, I loo around the room and spot a toilet in the corner. I continued hunting around the room I noticed a pattern, long lasting food, long lasting everything. I was in some sort of bomb shelter, or those things that crazy people build when they thought the apocalypse was going to happen.

Suddenly a door opened, it threw some more light across the room and I saw a small bed in the corner. A figure stepped in; I noticed stairs behind him, leading up. The man was large, at least six foot, he had large shoulders and muscular arms.

A light was thrown on and I winced, the sudden disruption from the darkness burning my eyes.

"Hello beautiful, you're awake then?" the mans voice was happy, cheerful, like we were in a relationship. I blanched. He was still just a silhouette. He keeps stepping towards me, getting bigger by the moment. I didn't shrink away though. I pulled my shoulders back and lifted my chin.

As he stepped into the light I was surprised at how handsome he was. In my mind I imagined the men who took me, who murdered my parents and other innocent families, to be ugly, twisted creatures, for their inner monster to be a physical attribute as well. I should have known that the inside has nothing to do with your exterior due to the pretty, evil girls from school. I looked at the man in the eye and knew that petty school bullies were no match for this type of evil.

He had a square jaw, brown eyes so dark they were almost black and short brown hair, cut almost to his skull. He smirked as he walked towards me.

"You're a quiet one." He says, circling me, the tone in his voice playful still. "The questions usually start as soon as I open the door. 'Who are you? Where are my parents?' all that sort of stuff, my favourite one is 'why are you doing this?'" He chuckled. "Don't you want to know where your parents are?"

"They're dead." I say, surprised at the confidence in my voice.

"Oh aren't you a clever girl. What, no tears? Not even a frown? You're not going to cry over the fact that my friends squeezed and beat the life out of your mother and father?"

I ignored him and did the thing that my mum hated. I pressed my lips together so that they almost pouted and then stared through him. My mum told me once that the look made her feel so small that she wanted to die as soon as I gave it to her.

"No answer?"

I glanced at him, eyes looking him up and down before I purse my lips in disgust. His eyebrows raised, he was shocked. He gathered himself quickly though. He reached to his belt and pulled out a knife. He pressed the cold metal against my skin.

"I chose you. I get to choose, you see. I saw you as you and your family moved in and I chose for you to be our next victims. I watched you for two weeks and it took all my self restraint not to do it sooner, but I had to make sure no other relatives would turn up, had to make sure there was a good ratio of people, y'know, make it fair. I chose you because you're beautiful, from the ale skin to the white blond of your hair, I have to say I think you're the prettiest girl we've had, and perhaps that we're going to have."

I kept staring straight ahead, swallowing the tears and the urge to say something.

"Its your fault your family are dead, y'know" He pushed the blade harder against my skin and I let out a gasp as it broke the skin, I felt the trickle of blood fall down my cold cheek.

He put his knife back into his belt and watched me again, circling me, like a shark stalking its pray. I keep looking ahead. My stomach gives a very loud rumble. I hadn't realised how hungry I was until now.

"Hungry, are we? I'll tell you what, I'll give you food and a drink, whatever you want, for a kiss." I can't keep my eyes ahead any more; I look at him with disgust. He laughs loudly. "Not even open mouth, just a peck on the lips"

"I'd rather starve." I spat.

"You'll be begging for an offer like that in a day or so sweetheart." He stood back, walking to the door. "Sweet dream, my love, you better get some sleep, I'm sure tomorrow will be a long day."

He turns the lights off and I hear at least three locks. I wipe the blood off my cheek with my sleeve; thankful I had thick winter pyjamas on because the blanket looked too thin to do anything. I went and sat on the bed and waited until the creaking of the floorboards above had stopped, and then waited for a while before I fished out my phone.

I text the last number that called:

It's fine to call

The phone buzzed and I answered it, trying to keep quiet.

"Amity?" It was the same voice, Spencer. The sound of it was surprisingly comforting.

"Yes, its me. I think I'm in a bomb shelter or some sort of post-apocalypse room of some sort." I went on to explain the features of the room and then I told him I met one of the men.

"Ok, I need you to give me every detail you remember" I described the man, his height, facial features, the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, which included a red dragon and a purple scorpion. "This is all perfect,"

I give him as much information I can, talked about what he said and how I reacted.

"I think I annoyed him."

"What you're doing is great, the nature of the murders suggests that at least one of the members of the team enjoys the suffering of their victims, if you can keep your reactions at bay he might stop trying after a while, from what you've told me he is confident, but too much so, if his confidence keeps getting knocked he'll start to doubt himself."

I smile, his voice is nice, soothing, soft spoken but with a tone of an intelligent man, he said things always matter of fact, never questioning. But he wasn't cocky. He was just sure.

"Spencer?" I say, attempting to smile. "Can you stay and talk to me for a while?"

"Yeah, sure, sure, of course."

"Thanks"

"No problem."

"What's the time?"

"Nearly two-am."

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"I'm in bed, but you didn't wake me, I'm looking over these notes."

"Are you sure you don't mind staying up?"

"Honestly, its fine."

"Tell me about yourself?"

"I'm Spencer Reid, I'm twenty-four, I graduated high school at twelve, I have PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry and Engineering as well as Bas in psychology and sociology."

"Whoa, that's impressive." Before he could ask me about myself I launched into my next question. "What kind of music do you like?"

"I like a lot of classical music, I also like a little rock, and a lot of British music too."

"Really, like what?"

"Joy Division, The Smiths, I like Oasis too"

"You just named some of my favourite bands."

He laughed and it was easy, talking to him made me temporarily forget the hell I was currently in.