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⋆ ⋆ ⋆ † 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄. † ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
the slaughter of anne-marie and todd riley
"I remember it being dark."
August's voice is calm yet slightly wavered, showing signs of weakness in her. She can feel the cold of the metal seat through her layer of clothes. It's not uncomfortable, but it's not exactly pleasant either. In front of her sits a man who had introduced himself as Agent Derek Morgan.
"Were the lights off? Was it night?" Derek asks her, body shifting towards her as best he can on the other side of the table. As he does this, the metal clangs against the watch he's wearing, causing her to flinch, but she regains herself after a moment.
"Both." She murmurs. "I couldn't see his face. He wasn't wearing- he wasn't wearing a mask... so I know he intended to..." There's long, painful pauses in between her sentences as she tries to fight back the twinging in her chest. "So I know he intended to kill me."
"Why do you say that?"
"If he had worn a mask it would mean he'd leave witnesses who could identify him without it." Rambling, fingers hands go to fiddle with the tips of her sweater. "I wish he killed me."
The silence that flows into the room is too overwhelming. August's eyes shut as her hands go to grab at her hair, massaging her temples.
"Are you okay? Do you need some water?"
"I'm okay."
"We can stop if you need to, August."
"No, no. It's okay. We can keep going. I'm okay."
Derek stares at her hands once they drop down on the table. They bump and fidget against each other restlessly, showing that she's nervous. He ponders this for a moment before speaking.
"'Scuse me for a minute."
He stands, exiting the room. She's left alone for longer than she'd like before the door opens again.
A different man enters. He's shorter and less muscular, but rather lanky. He wears his hair long and messy, clearly not caring about his appearance, and he's dressed in a vest over a button-up and a tie. Rather formal.
As he nervously sits down in front of her, a small, uncertain smile flashes on his face. One that brings both of his lips into his mouth, almost fake. The sight of him spikes her interest, staring at the young man in front of her. In fact, he's almost too young to be an FBI agent.
"Uh, hello. My name is Dr. Spencer Reid." His voice is nervous. The way he introduces himself is almost as if he's questioning his own name. His fidgets are almost in tune with hers as he picks at the skin around his fingernails.
"I'm here to ask you a few questions."
The questioning begins once again. He asks the same questions Derek had, but somehow gets her to loosen up more. Seeing someone around her age group and with similar quirks calms her, and Derek knew that would happen. Spencer had questioned his judgement at first, but as he sees her tense demeanor soften he comes to the conclusion that he might've been right. Which was rare.
"Where was your brother during all of this?"
A muffled scream is heard. August wakes. There's banging in her parent's room.
"Uh... well, we were... we were staying there for Thanksgiving. He was downstairs eating leftovers."
The movements of her feet are barely heard as she tiptoes through the hallway, closing in on the door across the hall. She stares, almost blankly, as no more sound comes through it.
"I wasn't even thinking about him. He wasn't on my mind at all."
Something cold hits August in her chest. It's a feeling, not an object. Fear begins to bubble within her. She moves forward towards the room, slowly opening the door as not to alert anyone, and enters the room. Turning the corner of the small entryway, she spots him. A man, dressed in black casual wear. He's caucasian, tall, but not particularly buff. His hair is short and he's somewhere in his sixties. He notices August, and the realization terrifies her. She watches as he lunges forward, going to attack her, but she grabs a pencil from the desk next to her and uses it to stab him in the chest. He cries out in pain, going to hit her again, but is confronted by the feeling of her knee hitting him right in the crotch. He collapses to the floor, and she runs for it.
"I ran downstairs to see Justin panicked. He was in the kitchen, scared out of his damn mind, and I told him we had to go. We left the house and I didn't know what happened to my parents until the next day when we came back."
"And that's when you found them?"
The sight is horrifying. Their parents, murdered and mangled, lying on their bathroom floor. There's cuts near the starts of each of their limbs, like Frankenstein. Their hair had been cut and taken. Justin grasps onto August as she sobs, reaching for his phone to dial the police. The fear within their hearts is worse than the fear they had experienced the night before.
"Justin found them first. He screamed when he saw them which is why I came to see what was..."
She stops. Tears come down her face without her even realizing it, but when she does, she stops. She can't continue any longer.
"I'm sorry, August. We can stop."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"Spencer is fine."
She smiles at this. He returns it. It's more genuine this time.
