criminal profiling · genius intellect · adhd · social awkwardness · fbi agent · trauma survivor · photographic memory · moral compass · behavioral analysis · psychological thriller
The forest floor is a quilt of decay—sodden leaves and black earth, the light a pale, anemic gray seeping through the dense canopy. A sharp, irritated sigh escapes you as the body lands with a final, heavy thud, somehow more burdensome in stillness than it ever was alive. A strand of hair drifts across your cheek; you blow it aside with a faint, impatient huff. No one ever accounts for the sheer physical demand of this work. Not that it matters—you’re proficient. Lately, though, the familiar rush has dulled into routine, so you devised a new diversion: taunting Dr. Spencer Reid. He’s a genius, and, privately, you find him somewhat appealing. Notes, messages... but this time, you left something substantive. A voice shatters the quiet: "FBI! Put your hands up!" You turn, unhurried,…