❝ Some things scratch at the surface while others strike at your soul. ❞
𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 her whole life to catching the monsters in this world in hopes of fixing something that is broken inside of her.
Tha...
*WARNING: This chapter contains relatively graphic detail of an attempted suicide. Please use reader discretion.*
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" From the deepest desires often come the deadliest hate. "
— Socrates
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20.2 ; SOME DAYS YOU LOSE.
THE SMELL OF GREASE andweek-old trash hung in the air of the alleyway—inconveniently lodged between a 24-hour pawn shop and a mom-and-pop fried chicken restaurant—and if the sight of blood and gore wasn't enough to make Caroline's stomach churn, then the smell was. She stood a healthy distance away from the crime scene, but it didn't help much. The smell coupled with the sight of the mutilated body was enough for bile to start bubbling in the back of her throat.
The newest victim had been found behind a rusted, graffiti-crusted dumpster, lying on top of some stray cardboard and garbage, by one of her fellow prostitutes. She would have looked peaceful if it weren't for the multiple stab wounds and crusted blood that had hardened throughout the early morning hours. On her stomach, with the same long, angry cuts that had been on the previous victims, was the word FAILURE carved into the skin.
"He's getting angrier and blaming the police for not stopping his impulses," Hotch said as he studied the body of the young girl in front of him. Prentiss had already checked her ID—she had only been sixteen years old. She couldn't help but wonder if she had parents or people who had cared about her.
Anyone who missed her now that she was gone.
"He's certainly not cooling off between kills anymore," Spencer remarked, who was standing further back from the body than Caroline was. Judging by the pale sheen on his face, the smell was starting to affect him too.
Morgan crouched down beside the body, shaking his head. "Which means we're looking at a whole lot more bodies."
"Meanwhile in two days, Congresswoman Steyer's going to stand up at the Capitol and declare Washington crime-free," Hotch said. She could tell by the thin-set of his mouth that the irony of it wasn't lost on him.
Prentiss turned to him then, her hands in the pockets of her coat. "Hey, what did she want with you the other day, anyway?"
Immediately, Hotch's head whipped in her direction. "It was a private conversation."
