Chapter Text
There's nothing better than a good old fashioned serial killer. A knife or bullet to the stomach and a clear motive, Gary shoots Lenny because he's sleeping with his wife- something like that.
Oh, how she missed clear motives...
That wasn't something she ever thought she'd miss, and the BAU got enough requests to consult on freaky murders to entirely extinguish her hope of ever getting one of those TV advertised 'cut-and-dry' cases.
But seriously, Penelope was sick of these psychos and their sadistic torture methods. Does nobody kill the plain and simple way anymore? Although, she supposed she'd be out of a job if they did.
The rest of the team is already waiting in the conference room, annoyed grumbles about being called back into work so soon after leaving for the day cloud the air. Garcia clears her throat as she walks in, gaining the attention of the room.
"I know you're all huffing and puffing about your very short, almost nonexistent, break, but we've got a weird one. Weirder than usual." A couple of amused glances are thrown around before everyone settles down and Hotch gestures for Garcia to continue.
"Pine Prairie, Louisiana. Three vics over three months," Images of three young girls slide onto the screen, "Scarlett Prest, Maria Adams and Talia Wilcocks. All causes of death were the same, bleeding out from multiple lacerations to the chest and face." Another set of photos replace the previous ones, crime scenes and corpses lying in the morgue.
The group glance between their tablets and the screen, reading autopsy reports and statements from the local PD.
"Their... Hearts were missing?" Morgan murmurs in disbelief, Garcia knows it's not a question, not really, but she answers it anyway.
"Yes, that would be the 'weirder than usual' part, all three girls seemed to have their hearts torn clean out of their chests." Garcia shudders and turns away from the screen, looking around at the agents in front of her instead.
"Definitely overkill. The vics could be substitutes for the real object of the unsubs rage." JJ pipes up, "He could've been hurt by a woman in his life and now he's trying to get revenge."
"He could be keeping the hearts as trophies, something to remember the kills by." Hotch adds, focusing his attention on his tablet. Garcia watches him flick back and forth between the photos of the three young women, Rossi leaning over his shoulder despite having his own tablet, both frowning as if they've noticed something they wish they hadn't.
"Do we know how the hearts were removed? It almost looks like it was done by hand but the sheer strength needed to dig into someone's chest and tear out something like that is near impossible to achieve." Rossi's attention focuses back on Garcia once he's finished talking, she nods and fiddles around with her own tablet for a second, sharing more images with the large screen.
This time they're close up shots of the women's chests, or rather, the lack of.
"It's possible the unsub used a serrated knife or some other jagged blade to cut away the flesh and then did the remaining work by hand." Garcia says, reading the autopsy report from the pathologist.
"Maybe he feels like his heart had been 'torn out' by a lover or even a female family member so he's doing the same to others since he can't act on his desired victim." JJ's voice is dripping with discomfort and Garcia doesn't blame her, the victims share a startling resemblance to their own blonde haired agent.
"There was no sign of sexual assault on any of the bodies, in all honesty the murders look rushed and uncontrolled but the slashes to the face could be some kind of forensic countermeasure." Morgan offers, a look of disdain etched into his eyebrows.
"It could also be some kind of ritual, all the attacks happened on the night of a full moon, many cultures believe the moon holds great power and control. Garcia, when's the next full moon?" Although he asked the question, Reid's attention is directed elsewhere, perhaps already looking for the answer himself.
"That would beeee..." She trails off, staring at the website before her.
"Garcia? What is it?" Hotch's voice is stern and commanding, she looks up at him instinctively.
"The next full moon is on Thursday, three days from now." The whole team wince simultaneously, a case like this can take a while to solve, if they can't catch their killer in time then they might have fourth body on their hands and no trail or leads for another month.
"If this is some kind of ritual then our unsub won't be deterred, and he won't break his pattern. We have three days to catch this guy, wheels up in thirty."
Hotch is out of the room before he's finished talking.
------
"Sammy, I think I found us a case. Pine Prairie, Louisiana, three stiffs over the last three months with their hearts ripped out." Dean slides the laptop over to his brother, tapping the screen to get Sam's attention. The younger man looks down at the news article Dean had pulled up, his eyes skimming over the details quickly.
"You're right, sounds like they got a werewolf problem." Sam nods along as he talks, his voice sounding disheartened and flat. Dean's stare feels like it burns holes into his skull, when Sam finally glances up from the screen he's met with one of those 'big brother' looks that he's been getting acquainted with recently due to his, quote on quote, bitch fits.
Dean's words not his.
"What's up with you? You've been sulking like a little girl ever since we got back from that Wendigo hunt in Illinois."
"I just- I don't see how you can be thinking about hunting werewolves right now. We've kind of got bigger fish to fry if you hadn't noticed."
"Sam, we've been over this, nobody has any idea which seals are gonna break next, not even the angels. We just gotta sit tight and keep hunting whatever evil bastards we can, okay?" Dean's voice is raised, frustrated and tinged with desperation, he needs to get his mind off the whole Lillith thing, needs to do something normal (or as normal as things get for the Winchesters) like gank a couple werewolves and then move somewhere else, to another shitty motel, and do it again.
Sam notices of course, he'd spent years analysing and looking up to his brother. Dean's getting twitchy now, an urge crawling underneath his skin to find something to kill and let off a bit of steam, he'll be unstable and hostile with everyone he comes into contact with if Sam doesn't agree to this.
"What about-" Sam doesn't even get to finish his question before Dean cuts him off.
"Cas isn't answering. I tried calling and, man I even prayed, but it's radio silence on his end. Let's just take this job to pass the time if nothing else." The anger that previously shone through Dean's words has fizzled out, all that's left now is an almost reserved sort of plea.
Sam hates that defeated look in his brothers eyes, it's out of place on the face of someone usually so eager and passionate. Well, it's not like killing monsters is ever a bad thing, and this village really does sound like it has a problem.
"Yeah okay, you're right, lets go kill this sucker." An easy smile slips onto Sam's face, he pushes up from his seat at the tiny desk and walks towards Dean, clapping him on the shoulder as he passes, not missing the relieved grin he gets in return.
"Well then my friend, get packing, we should try to leave tonight." Dean's already grabbing his clothes from his bed and shoving them messily into a dark green duffle bag, followed by a couple guns and knives.
"Right on, brother." Sam replies, playing up a strong Texas accent to pull a laugh from the older man. It works, and for a minute, everything feels normal again.
Dean hesitates for a second, "Actually, I'm gonna shower before we leave, looks like a couple days drive ahead of us." He announces, halting his packing to head into the tiny bathroom attached to their room. He pauses in the doorway, sticking his head around like a meerkat, "Should I save you some hot water?"
After a nod of approval from Sam, Dean is off into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him which does nothing to mute the sound of him pattering around behind it.
Sam perches on his bed, pistol in hand, and listens to the water running just a couple metres from him. Dad had always taught them to stay vigilant, to have someone on guard at all times - especially when the other was vulnerable, like in the shower. Sam had no doubt that when it was his turn to wash, Dean would be sitting on his bed too, holding a gun and listening out for every little noise.
"Sammy!" Sam's at the bathroom door before he can blink, "Could you be a dear and grab me some towels? I think I threw them in with my clothes." A sheepish chuckle follows the confession, Sam rolls his eyes but hollers an affirmative and begins to nosy through Dean's duffle, searching for the towels.
Sam knocks a couple times on the door before pushing it open, navigating through the thin sheen of steam that swamps the room and stopping just outside the shower. Dean pokes an arm and a head out from the curtain, a silly grin on his face as he grabs the towels from Sam.
"You're welcome, now hurry up and get out, I wanna hit the road." Sam mutters in response to the silence, he gets a giddy sounding laugh in return as he shuffles back out the bathroom.
His shower is much less eventful, a quick act of hop in, wash what you need and then hop out. Sam's towels are where he left them, along with a pile of clean clothes which he swiftly puts on. Ruffling his hair dry, he re-enters their room and starts to pack things into his own bag.
The brothers work in silence around each other for a while, grabbing their respective belongings and tucking them away next to rolls of clothing, books (Sam) and far more weapons than necessary ((Dean) although he'd swear up and down that you can never have too many weapons).
Once the room has been cleared out entirely, Dean checks out while Sam heads to the Impala, lobbing their bags in the back seat and clambering into the front. Dean joins him a couple minutes after, starting the engine and switching the radio on to fill the silence.
"Pine Prairie is a village, right?" At Sam's answering nod, Dean continues, "They must be freaked right now, having their folks dropping like flies."
All Sam can offer is a non committal him, already lost in thought. This will just be an easy hunt to let Dean work out some energy, then they can get back on Lilliths trail and stop her opening any more seals.
Right?