Dancing In The Morgue - Chapter 18

God Hates Me

We are always getting ready to live but never living.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

"I'm ready" Spencer said, not taking his eyes off of his thumb, that was now getting really swollen. He had accidentally tread his finger in the file drawer and it was now getting purple-ish and it hurt. Pretty bad. But he couldn't take his eyes off of it.

His co-workers all stopped whatever they were doing to look at him, waiting for him to tell them what he was ready for.

He felt all those gazes upon him and finally looked up, leaving his bruised finger alone.

"For a profile. I'm ready for a profile." He announced.

They had released a sketch profile earlier, but now that they had four bodies, they could work on an accurate profile.

"What do you know, Reid?" Rossi asked. He thought he knew what Reid was thinking. Partly, at least. Since it's impossible to keep up with Reid's mind.

"He murders pregnant women. He stabs them senseless post-mortem in the lower abdomen, because they are pregnant. Now, these women, all of them had boyfriends or husbands, right?"

Everybody nodded. Rossi was the only one who knew where it was going. Everyone else was just following his trail of thought, wondering where it would lead them.

"And they all had love affairs. But they had love affairs with different men. So the killer isn't any of the lovers." He continued. Slowly, the rest of the team was starting to get there.

"It is the same killer. Same MO. Stabbed senseless with a regular knife that has the fingertips of someone close to them." Morgan continued, thinking he knew exactly what Reid was thinking. "So this guy knows we're smart. He's not trying to frame anybody, he's just trying to get us puzzled."

"Exactly." Reid said. "He wants us to feel desperate, like we're never gonna have a decent lead."

"So he's a smart man." JJ concluded.

"The fact that they were stabbed senseless in the lower abdomen actually tells us that this man has something against these babies, that's for sure." Prentiss said, taking another sip of her coffee. "But what is it?"

"Well, we know the lovers didn't do it." Rossi said, as he wrote something in his notebook, his pretty handwriting tilted to the right. "Neither did the husbands or boyfriends who, mysteriously disappeared from the face of Earth after the murders."

"On the Bronson and Wisener cases, he wants us to think it was the husbands..." Morgan said, a little confused. "But on the other two cases, he wants us to think it was the lovers?"

"That's it!" Reid exclaimed, completely excited. He had figured something out that didn't occur to anyone else. As usual.

"Whoever did this has high moral values, this is someone who thinks these babies are immoral." He explained.

"But who?" JJ asked. "Who could know about these women cheating on their husbands and boyfriends? Who could know they were pregnant?"

Everyone paused for a second. They were all thinking. The room was silent for a couple of minutes, that seemed like hours.

"Their shrink?" Prentiss suggested.

"Yes, it could be!" Reid agreed "A psychologist is someone to be trusted, they could tell him all about their sexual adventures with other men besides their companions and they could him they were carrying babies."

"Okay, I'm gonna go over there and do my computer thing and find out who their creepy therapist was..." Garcia said, visibly shocked. No matter how many times she saw it, the wickedness of the human mind never ceased to amaze her, in the most disgusting ways.

She left the room and Rossi declared:

"Well, I'm going to schedule the official meeting."



Nana was a Catholic. Not because she believed in anything, but because she was raised that way. Back in the day, you had to take on you parents' religion and could not question it. Her mother came from Italy, a highly Catholic country, most like all of the southern Europe: Spain, France, Portugal... Those countries even had fought wars and battles over religion, many centuries ago.

Emily, on the other hand, questioned religion a lot. She was no Einstein, but she sometimes liked looking at the logical side of things. And religion was one highly illogical thing. But she liked to believe that miracles could happen. Well, even though her life was one big messy Hell, she still believed, for some reason, that everything would work out fine. Meeting Spencer Reid was a miracle. Despite everything else, meeting that man was the best thing that ever happened to her in a very long time. They couldn't have a normal relationship, that's for sure, but at least he brought warmness to her soul. That was more that she bargained for. All she wanted was someone to talk to. Instead, she got someone to love. But God, whoever he is, is a cruel bastard, and gave her a lover she couldn't even love without feeling guilty.

I hate you, God!

"Nana, you wanna go to church?" Emily asked her grandmother. Every year, on the anniversary of her mother's death, Emily would take Nana to church. Nana didn't really remember why because of the Alzheimer's, but she liked the service and the church was beautiful.

"No... Katheryn..." Nana sounded weak. Weaker than usual.

"Nana, are you okay?" Emily was worried. Nana wasn't moving. She started twitching her right eye, her entire right side contorting insanely.

"Nana?"

Emily watched as her grandmother contorted and twitched, unsure of what to do. The lady was now urinating, and Emily had no idea what to do. She decided to call the 911, before she had a panic attack and wasn't able to hold the phone or speak.

After calling the ambulance, and in a very stupid reflex, she called Spencer. He didn't answer, though, he was on the reunion with the FBI and he didn't feel the phone vibrating in his pocket.

She was about to burst into tears when the ambulance arrived. She was trying to decide whether to be deeply sad or deeply shocked. She couldn't decide, though, and kept both moods in her face, that looked like she had seen a really scary ghost.

God hates me...