Chapter 1: How to Spot a Witch
The Reaping
a/n: Hello again, dear readers. This story has been hanging out on my hard drive for about a month, and I'm finally able to post it for your reading pleasure. :)
It was written form the cm_casefiles group, and I chose a prompt by arwen_lalaith . She requested a story with an UNSUB who reenacted medieval torture methods like those used by witch hunters. This story is my attempt to fulfill that request. :)
The story is 100% finished, so I figured posting it would give you guys something to read while I work through my temporary block on "Going Wodwo."
There's a bit of language in here, though nothing compared to Emily's potty mouth in "Going Wodwo." There are also some descriptions of torture, but nothing worse than you'd see on the actual show.
A huge thank you to my beta, chiroho . He always laughs at the meant-to-be funny parts. :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I write because it's fun, not because I'm trying to make money off of other people's creations. Don't sue me; it'd make us both sad.
Chapter 1: How to Spot a Witch
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.
-William Shakespeare, Macbeth 4.1
Earthshine, Mississippi
He had watched her for weeks. He had to be sure. He watched her around town, as she went to the store and the post office and the hair salon. He watched her at home, as she puttered around her garden and made dinner and walked her dog. He even watched her, sometimes, as she slept. He had to be sure. After all, one does not take on a mission from God lightly. It was a heavy mantle, but he wore it with quiet, self-assured pride.
In all his watching, he'd gathered some critical evidence. She grew a huge abundance and variety of herbs in her garden, and he'd taken careful clippings of each one. Some well-invested library time had yielded him the answers he needed, and he now knew that not all of them were used in spaghetti sauce or goulash.
He'd seen her once, in the moonlight, laughing with a group of women. They drank dark liquid from silver goblets and danced like maenads.
After he'd grabbed her - sneaked into her bedroom by night like the stealthy Angel of God he was - he'd taken her somewhere quiet, somewhere he could do his work unmolested. He had urged her to confess. If she would only repent of her sins, perhaps God would allow him to spare her. But she refused, and he slid another pin into her soft, yielding flesh. She screamed, and he knew he hadn't found it yet, the mark the Devil left on a witch to seal their heinous, diabolical pact. A few more tries…surely it wouldn't take many more…
Smiling grimly, relishing his duty even as he regretted it, God's hunter on Earth continued his quest.Quantico, Virginia
FBI Headquarters
"So then Finn sang 'Jesse's Girl,' and, really, you have to wonder if they named him Jesse just so Finn could sing that," Penelope Garcia gushed as she handed a cup of coffee over to her friend and colleague, Emily Prentiss.
Prentiss looked a little glazed. She stifled a yawn and tried to focus on what the enthusiastic analyst was bubbling about, but jag lag was dragging her down. They'd just gotten back from Alaska the day before; despite the team's hectic travel schedule (so you'd think she'd be used to it), she was still adjusting to the time difference. "What's this show called again?"
Garcia let out a huff of exasperation. "Glee, Em, I told you! It's awesome!"
"And it's a musical?" the brunette asked with a skeptical twist to her mouth. "And they sing Rick Springfield?"
Garcia rolled her eyes. "Not just Rick Springfield. They sing all sorts of stuff - like 'Proud Mary' and 'Total Eclipse of the Heart,' and they had a whole episode just about Madonna. It was beyond epic. Anyway, as I was saying, the teacher, Mr. Schue, loves the guidance councilor, Emma, but she's seriously OCD, so-"
"Are you talking about Glee, Garcia?"
The two women stopped dead. Nothing could have possibly surprised either of them more than that voice asking that question. They both turned, slowly, to face Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner, the BAU's Unit Chief. "Um. Yes, sir. Um. Are you a fan?" Garcia said.
His normally stoic face broke into a grin, and the women blinked in astonishment. A moment later the smile was gone, as though he'd remembered himself, and Hotch cleared his throat. "Well, Jessica lets Jack watch it when she's keeping him, so now he requests it all the time…um…if you ever see one of the CDs floating around my office, it's probably a Christmas present for him."
"For Jack," Prentiss said, a raven brow winging toward her hairline. "Right. Most four-year-olds I know are huge Madonna fans." She glanced over at Garcia and spared a moment to marvel at the analyst's poker face.
"Sorry to break up the party, guys, but we've got a case," Jennifer "J.J." Jareau said as she sailed around the corner.
Hotch had never been so happy to see the team's media liaison. "You heard the woman," he said, "conference room in ten." He followed J.J.'s fan of blond hair in a hasty, head-bowed retreat.
"Oh. My. God," Prentiss mouthed to Garcia as their eyes met.
"I know, right?" she mouthed back. She broke into a grin that lit the entire hallway, and she was nodding so enthusiastically she had to rescue the giant purple rose tucked into her hair before it lost its battle with gravity. In a high squeak she said, "Hotch is a Gleek!"
"We've got a body a month for last three months, all abducted from Earthshine, Mississippi and dumped just outside of town," J.J. explained as she passed out folders.
"Earthshine?" Dave Rossi echoed, uneven brows dancing. "Any relation to moonshine?"
"Actually, earthshine is the phenomenon when light from the Earth reflects back onto the dark side of the Moon, thus making it visible," Spencer Reid said in a distracted voice as he flipped through the file. "Two women and one man?" His face scrunched in consternation and he missed Rossi's bland expression.
J.J. hit the button on her remote, and the pictures began to appear on screen. "Carey Dixon, 35, had thin metal pins inserted all over her body, and she had all of her hair shaved off - I mean all of it. She was then burned alive along with her dog, Shadow. Autopsy on the dog indicates he was strangled before being burned, unlike Carey.
"Audrey Dee, 28, was found beside a stream with severe burns to her buttocks and upper thighs. Her thumbs were severely mangled, and she was also shaved. Cause of death appears to be strangulation by hanging.
"George Carpenter, 56, was also discovered near a creek. He appears to have been…" She hesitated, swallowed, and then continued, "crushed to death."
"Accidentally?" Hotch said.
"Systematically. The county ME believes the murder weapon was man-made, like a concrete block."
"There are no other signs of torture on him," Prentiss said, "which is different from the other victims, though he was shaved. Maybe he died before the UNSUB was done with him?"
"This shaving thing…I would've said it was sexual, but the male victim throws everything off. Could it be the shaving itself, and not just shaving a woman?" Morgan said.
Reid drummed long, thin fingers against the table as he considered. "Was the first victim found near running water, as well?"
"Yes," J.J. said. "Also, there's this." Another image flashed on the screen, and Reid's pensive face broke into a grim smile.
"'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,'" Prentiss read. "Grrreeat."
"Exodus 22:18," Reid said. "It's actually a slight mistranslation, but there's no Greek or English word that equates directly to the original Hebrew, which means something like…'one who poisons.'" This time he noticed the looks the others were giving him; cleared his throat and made his point. "All of these victims show wounds consistent with methods used by the Inquisition to torture suspected witches into confession. In fact, during the Salem witch trials - which weren't, by the way, conducted by the Church since Salem was a Puritan settlement - a man was accidentally crushed to death before he could confess his supposed crimes."
"'Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition,'" Prentiss said with a sliver of a smile.
"Not really the Spanish Inquisition, specifically," Reid corrected as her reference flew completely over his head. "It's estimated only 40 or 50 so-called witches were killed in Spain, while in Germany - the country with the highest total on record - had more like 17 to 26 thousand over a period of 250 years."
Prentiss blinked, nonplussed.
"Reid, what's the significance of the dump sites?" Hotch said.
"It was commonly believed that a witch couldn't cross running water, like a creek or a stream. The UNSUB is placing all the bodies near creeks outside of town in order to protect the townspeople. He thinks he's doing them a service."
"A mission-based killer," Morgan said. "We all know what that means."
"It means he won't stop until we stop him," Rossi said in a weary, dark voice.
Hotch nodded. "It's been three weeks since the last victim was found, so if he sticks to his schedule we'll be looking at another body within the week. Wheels up in an hour. I suggest we all - besides Reid - spend the time doing a little research on the history of witch trials."