Mr. Scratch

After about thirty minutes I get a group call from Penelope, Rossi, and Hotch.

"Peter Lewis. Born and raised in Jacksonville, Florida. Calling him a math genius would be an understatement." Garcia says filling me in.

"Where in the foster care system was he in?" Hotch asks her. Her fingers type loudly on the keyboard, the sound traveling onto my line.

"He wasn't...his parents ran the foster home until it...oh dear." Garcia says trailing off.

"Looks like we found our Mr. Scratch." Rossi vocalizes.

"One of the boys in the house said Peter's dad would dress up as the devil and the other kids would follow suit." Hotch informs me.

"Did he serve time?" I ask as I'm driving through the night streets.

"Nope, He was killed in jail for being a pedophile. And none of the kids from the home went into witness protection." Garcia speaks stumped.

"Who the hell is he still hunting?" Rossi asks.

"Who ran the investigation? Maybe he wants payback on them." I ask trying to think of anyone Peter would like to harm.

"Dr. Susana Regan, she was responsible for a lot of the allegations because she was a member of the "believe the children" movement. Which basically meant that the cops had to believe anything the kids said, and if the kiddos didn't have anything to say, twist their arm until they did." Garcia tells us.

"Then she published a book." Hotch adds.

"And we came out with the Lanning report and debunked her." Rossi tells me.

"Her career flunked and she received numerous death threats so she went into witness." Garcia finishes.

"Where does she live?" I ask as I look at the street sign that I passed to see where I'm located.

"A very nice estate in Maryland." Garcia answers for me.

"I'm right by the highway, send me the address I'm the closest one out there." I tell her before making a swift U-turn, speeding onto the highway.

"Sent!" Garcia tells me.

"Thank you lovely." I say before hanging up and putting on my lights and sirens so people get out of my way.

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I arrive in about an hour, slowing my speed and turning off my headlights as I pull into her driveway. I put my FBI vest on and take out my gun before pursuing out the car.

I walk up the steps and bang on the door.

"Dr. Regan!" I yell out.

"It's open come in." Her voice speaks loudly through the door. I furrow my brows at her strange remark causing me to stand up straighter before creaking the door open.

"Are you alright?" I ask her, as I walk through the darkly lit house.

"Agent Del la Cruz?" She asks in a frail voice. I follow it, leading me to the living room. "I got Agent Rossi's message."

"You are in danger, you need to leave." I warn her as I continue following her voice.

"I understand, I'm in the study. I'm so glad you're here." She tells me, just when I walk through the open doors of the living room. Revealing her in a dim, elegantly designed room. She stands by a small table, her frail hands placed on it.

"You need to see this." She says calmly before taking out a knife. "He wants you to see this." She tells me before shining a smile and stabbing the knife into her throat. My eyes widen and I lunge towards her.

"No!" I yell as she hits the floor breathing for air. I kneel next to her before a gas is sprayed in my eyes. I squint harshly and fire my gun aimlessly hoping to wound Peter Lewis. I grab my face and force myself to sit on my knees, but I'm knocked back down from Lewis punching me in the face. I sit up once more and pour cold water in my eyes from a glass that sits on a table in front of me. The stinging courses through my body causing me to flinch and another spritz of gas to be sprayed on me.

I grunt and grab my gun on the floor, trying my hardest to get a shot in. A heavy foot clashes with my hand, pining it to the carpeted floor. I gasp for air as the back of my head hits the floor roughly. My chest heaves at the painful aches my whole body is feeling. I open my clutched eyes to see Peter Lewis luring over me with a gas mask on. I try to reach for my gun a few feet away from me, but his foot only crushes my hand harder, before spraying more gas directly onto my face. I cry in pain before darkness consumes me.

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A buzzing noise pushes me to reopen my eyes, straining them to focus on one thing. My vision is slanted and blurry, but once it starts to clear I see my phone displayed on the floor with 'Derek' flashed in bold letters on my flip phone. I then look up to see Peter sitting in a chair in front of me, while I'm sat upright on the floor, with my back against something sturdy.

He takes off his mask and leans towards my stinging face.

"Do you see how this works, princess? You do as I say." He says in a slow whisper.

"Peter...listen." I say in a gurgling voice.

"I didn't give you permission to talk." He whispers. My eyes drift off of him and to Dr. Regans body that is lifeless next to me. A single tear slips out of my eye, my face still, free from emotion.

"Don't cry for her. She was stupid. And wrong. She used to burn sage during the sessions. Said it made it safe to talk about Mr. Scratch." He says in a angry bush tone. My eyes divert back to him as he wipes my tear with his finger.

"What do you see when you look at me? Do you see Mr. Scratch? You can talk now, I want to know what you are feeling." He tells me, releasing me from my hypnosis of silence. My phone continues to buzz, grabbing my attention. A group call from everyone is written on the screen, begging me to answer.

"You know what I think..." I say before coughing slightly as my throat feels on fire from the poisonous spray.

"Do tell." Peter says with a smile.

"That my team is coming here. They know I'm here. And if you...place one finger on me..." I start before my throat swells from the amount of stain I'm placing on it.

Peter tilts his head before speaking. "What do you mean? You're phone is not ringing." He tells me. And just then silence is heard, not one buzz.

"It is, you can't trick me Peter." I gurgle.

"No it isn't." He presses. I smile and lean my head back against the hard surface for support.

"What are you smiling at?" He asks.

"You." I say flatly.

"How so?" He asks in a less amused tone.

"You gave yourself up. You said she burned sage...so you were interviewed too. You were tricked into being questioned about your own father." I tell him with a tired and low laugh.

"Shut up." He says angrily.

"You gave her everything she wanted." I tell him with a smile. His face contorts before he falls to his knees and cocks his gun, placing the cold metal to the center of my forehead.

"Shut up." He cries, digging the gun into my head. I tilt my head tauntingly and stare him straight into his eyes. His eyes widen before his mouth forms the letter 'O'.

"Oh you are good. That was so good. The way you got into my head. Now I want to know how to get into yours." He tells me.

Bright white lights and the sound of tires catch both our attention from the window.

"You were right. They did come for you." He says with a sick smile. I lift my head off the wall once he lowers the gun from my head.

"And they will kill you Peter." I whisper tiredly.

"Or I will kill them first." He tells me before getting up. My eyes widen and follow his walking figure until he is out of my sight.

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Getting intense...

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Word count: 1407