Spencer likes to play at being a believer, sometimes, especially on Halloween. He tells spooky ghost stories to Garcia just to hear her shriek and excitedly bombards Emily with facts about famous werewolf sightings, but he doesn't actually believe. There has been no empirical evidence, and no convincing eye-witness accounts. Of course, it's not something he's never dug particularly deeply into, beyond what was necessary for psychological studies or criminal profiles, but Spencer remains certain.
The supernatural is not real. But if that's the case, how is he staring at what has to be two vampires?
They're on a case in Texas. An unsub that's left a string of at least ten bodies behind him in the past six months, and more are suspected. All left totally drained of their blood, with puncture marks made to mimic fang wounds on their necks. Spencer immediately suspected Renfield's syndrome, and they'd worked up a profile of a man that was deeply delusional, obsessed with a former romantic partner, and likely living near the woods in town. They've been in town for a few days, narrowing down the profile, talking to witnesses who last saw the victims alive, and they'd been closing in. On a whim, Reid had done a search for deaths in the local area around six months to a year ago, looking for someone who matched the physical type of the victims but had died before these killings started.
He'd found a woman, Kayla Thornton, who had died seven months ago, and her house was currently listed as foreclosed. Suspecting that this was the woman the unsub had been obsessed with, Spencer had swung by the house, expecting a casual visit. It had been dark inside, the windows boarded over, the air stale, blood splatters on the floor. What can only be described as an altar sits on one wall, photos of Kayla plastered everywhere.
When the unsub had appeared in a movement so fast Spencer hadn't seen it, he'd tried to negotiate. He'd tried to convince the guy to give himself up. And that was when the unsub had opened a mouth full of shark-like teeth, long and needle-sharp-- Spencer had been fast enough to draw his gun and shoot when the unsub had rushed him, but putting three bullets in his chest hadn't done anything. The unsub had barely even flinched. That was when a second unsub had appeared.
And here he is, getting thrown to the ground with a strength that's unlike anything he's felt before, sharp teeth grazing his neck as one of the unsubs prepares to bite him, and all Spencer can think is-- does this qualify as proof of the supernatural? Because if so, he's going to have an interesting story to tell his team.
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Spencer likes to play at being a believer, sometimes, especially on Halloween. He tells spooky ghost stories to Garcia just to hear her shriek and excitedly bombards Emily with facts about famous werewolf sightings, but he doesn't actually believe. There has been no empirical evidence, and no convincing eye-witness accounts. Of course, it's not something he's never dug particularly deeply into, beyond what was necessary for psychological studies or criminal profiles, but Spencer remains certain.
The supernatural is not real. But if that's the case, how is he staring at what has to be two vampires?
They're on a case in Texas. An unsub that's left a string of at least ten bodies behind him in the past six months, and more are suspected. All left totally drained of their blood, with puncture marks made to mimic fang wounds on their necks. Spencer immediately suspected Renfield's syndrome, and they'd worked up a profile of a man that was deeply delusional, obsessed with a former romantic partner, and likely living near the woods in town. They've been in town for a few days, narrowing down the profile, talking to witnesses who last saw the victims alive, and they'd been closing in. On a whim, Reid had done a search for deaths in the local area around six months to a year ago, looking for someone who matched the physical type of the victims but had died before these killings started.
He'd found a woman, Kayla Thornton, who had died seven months ago, and her house was currently listed as foreclosed. Suspecting that this was the woman the unsub had been obsessed with, Spencer had swung by the house, expecting a casual visit. It had been dark inside, the windows boarded over, the air stale, blood splatters on the floor. What can only be described as an altar sits on one wall, photos of Kayla plastered everywhere.
When the unsub had appeared in a movement so fast Spencer hadn't seen it, he'd tried to negotiate. He'd tried to convince the guy to give himself up. And that was when the unsub had opened a mouth full of shark-like teeth, long and needle-sharp-- Spencer had been fast enough to draw his gun and shoot when the unsub had rushed him, but putting three bullets in his chest hadn't done anything. The unsub had barely even flinched. That was when a second unsub had appeared.
And here he is, getting thrown to the ground with a strength that's unlike anything he's felt before, sharp teeth grazing his neck as one of the unsubs prepares to bite him, and all Spencer can think is-- does this qualify as proof of the supernatural? Because if so, he's going to have an interesting story to tell his team.
If he survives.