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A State Of Anger

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Disclaimer : I Own Nothing, No Matter How Much I May Whine And Beg And Plead To The Real Owners Of Criminal Minds, Nor Do I Make Any Profit From Any Of The Stories I Have Posted Here.

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"The defects and faults of the mind are like wounds in the body. After all imaginable care has been taken to heal them up, still there will be a scar left behind."

- Francois de la Roche Foucauld

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Walking alone was something Winston Turstone loved to do all the time. In fact, you could even call walking Winston's favorite pastime. It was very foggy out this morning, but that didn't matter to him; the thrill of not being fully able to see where you were headed was one of Winston's games. Loving to get lost to find his way back home was the best thing ever to his 23 year old mind. After all, it wasn't like there was anything awaiting his return at home; nothing but an empty house and a broken home of two years. Kicking at a small stone on the pathway, Winston quickly blocked out all thoughts of his ex-wife and returned his gaze to the white haze in front of him.

But strangely enough, a figure started to form out of the fog, and the closer he came, the more he could see. It was a woman, and she was sitting on the side of the road, leaning with her back against the tree, staring out at nothing. His brows furrowing, Winston walked up to the woman and looked down at her, saying softly,

"Are you alright, Miss?"

When no answer came, he tilted his head and crouched down, saying again,

"Miss?"

Something wasn't right, Winston thought to himself, looking over the woman. She was clothed in a tight, grey, sweatshirt-like hoodie. She was wearing tight blue jeans and… army boots? Odd, Winston thought, then crouching down just a little further, trying to meet the eyes of the woman.

"Ma'am, are you alright?"

But he caught the red liquid on her hands just a second to late, his eyes widening as the woman suddenly looked up, staring into his eyes.

Those strange, turquoise eyes were the last things he saw before unforgiving hands were wrapped around his throat.

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Reid could hear Morgan chuckling in the background, but he gave him no notice, simply continuing to rearrange the pink and purple carnations that had just arrived on his desk. It made his heart clench up, even as it made him smile to know that Amy continued to send him flowers from wherever she was. And as always, there was a small white card stuck in the arrangement that simply read,

- Vaughn

Smiling slightly, Reid continued to play with the flowers as he pretended to rearrange them still, wondering exactly where she was now, and what progress she must have made. But of course, that warm feeling was never to last in the BAU unit in Quantico, Virginia. Reid noticed J.J. moving through the glass doors into the bullpen, a brown case file in hand, her face grim. She didn't need to say a word for Morgan and Reid to know what was up. Giving one last look at the carnations, Reid followed Morgan, who had already moved past him into the round-table room; the one J.J. had just disappeared into.

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"Fredericksburg's called us in to help them profile a strange occurrence for them." J.J. turned around to the screen and clicked a button on the small remote she was holding, bringing up several pictures of different people of different races, different ages and different gender. "Twenty two people dead in two weeks."

J.J. then proceeded to place brown case files in front of all the agents gathered around the table.

"There seems to be no discrimination in these kills, almost as if they were completely at random. The last kill was a male, twenty-three years old, last seen by his neighbor at six this morning, leaving his apartment. He was strangled to death approximately seven miles from said apartment."

"Is strangulation the main cause of death?" Hotch asked, leafing through the files and pictures J.J. had placed in front of him, and as her answer, she turned back around to the screen and pressed another button, several crime scene photos coming up.

"I think it would be fairly safe to say that there is no true murder weapon. We have some who were strangled, yes, but there are stab wounds that were the primary cause of death on others, some were bludgeoned to death with some sort of blunt object, a few were even drowned, and one was pushed off a bridge into rocks at least thirty feet below."

"How do we knew that last guy didn't jump?" Morgan asked, and J.J. shook her head.

"The police that called us in said they interviewed the parents of the kid, and they said he'd never had any suicidal tendencies. He'd never been that much of a dare devil or a risk taker; that he always walked the straight and narrow. Never the kind to make enemies, either."

Prentiss's brows furrowed as she then said,

"That doesn't make much sense, though." with a look to the others, she continued. "Strangulation, stabbing, bludgeoning, drowning… they're all hands on ways of killing someone. This guy likes to be close to his kills and feel the life leave their body. So why… why push someone over the edge of a bridge?"

"It seems to me the M.O. is constantly changing. Maybe this dude just wanted to try something new." Morgan offered, but Gideon shook his head, having been silent until now.

"No, I agree with Prentiss. It's not the same pattern. This UnSub wants hands on ways of dying, but what if he didn't have the time? Maybe the victim that fell wasn't supposed to be a victim. Maybe he was just in the way, that the UnSub was running from someone else and pushed the victim out of the way."

Hotch then shook his head, standing up.

"Whatever the reason was, he's dead and there's a rising possibility there's more bodies on the way. This UnSub is possibly in a psychotic break and we need to get to him as fast as possible. Wheels up in twenty."

And without another word, Hotch left the room, leaving the rest of them to look amongst each other and clean up the files, gathering everything they would need for the short trip to Fredericksburg, Virginia.

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Something wasn't adding up…

Reid sat in the back of the SUV, looking over the files and the photos, his brain taking in everything again, and again, and again. There had to be something they were all missing here… So many bodies, so little time… Every different gender, race, age, height, weight, every difference you could think of they were here. There was no specific reason for the killings, either. Some of them came from wealthy families, ones with families who'd miss them dearly and worry immensely, and those without families or friends of any kind. Those who wouldn't be missed. Some with high paying jobs, some with low paying jobs, low class, high class, no job, working full time…

It was a mess!

A psychotic break, Gideon had called it. It sure had the footprints of a psychotic break, but the kills were precise. As if they'd been done over and over, or at least played out several times in the UnSub's head. They were part pre-meditated, part impulsive. That had to mean that the UnSub was between the ages of twenty and thirty, since there was very little evidence of the recklessness of adolescence, even though there was still some there. The UnSub had to have a type of serious mental illness, probably having been on medication but been taken off recently for one reason or another…

But even through all this instant profiling, Reid still felt like he was missing something… Something important….

Reid's head snapped up from the files as he felt the SUV slowing down and turning into the Fredericksburg Police Station, and he quickly closed it, taking a deep breath and licking his lips in an unconscious gesture of nervousness. A crazed UnSub was on the loose and they would each need to stay close together while they were here. So far the UnSub was simply targeting people who were alone, but who knew when this kind of psychotic break would escalate…?

A/N : Alrighty! I figured since I was so close to finishing my other story, Scars, I'd go ahead and start on that sequel I promised all of you loyal fans out there who enjoyed reading my earlier story, A State Of Mind. I do hope you enjoy reading this one as well, and believe me, as soon as the words flow from my fingers, you'll have your next chapter update. In the meantime, don't forget to review, as they are greatly appreciated! Thanks a million, all!

- Lyon