Clad In Black [1/1]

Do you get dreams?

I do. I get nightmares. Its horrifying to think that a grown man; a genius; a child prodigy can get nightmares. I am the only twelve year old who graduated from high school. The only kid there with an IQ of 187. I am the kid who could read 20, 000 words per minute. The kid who, at the age of twenty-four, already works for the FBI.

I suppose that makes sense doesn’t it? The FBI. Who won’t get nightmares? Morgan did. I’m sure I heard JJ tell Garcia. The other day Hotch was advising Elle on vanquishing your inner demons. I’m convinced that, although Gideon doesn’t show it, he gets nightmares too. Yet, even so, I don’t feel good. These dreams. These sick, twisted dreams aren’t… they aren’t normal.

Now for me to be telling you this, its a breach of national security. Scoffing are you? It’s the truth, it is. I’m revealing my weakness, my one flaw and if you decide to exploit it, the B.A.U won’t have a Spencer Reid on its team any more. Won’t have another member that can realize that the profiles were all wrong. That it was a severe case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder instead of the work of a serial arsonist. No one to save you from being shot in the head by a delusional psychopath using a magic trick. Scared already? Then my warning shall suffice.

These dreams of mine. They start from nowhere. One moment I could be dreaming of flowers and singing birds or magical creature with fluffy skin galloping around in circles; Watching a Broadway Musical, Jessica Alba… well you get the picture. Anyway, suddenly I will be transported to a dark abyss. Maybe it’s a cave.

There, a big circle is drawn; its edge at the tip of my bare feet. Its blood red and hurts to touch. I tried a million times. At first, all I did was stand there thinking but a while later, I heard the sounds of a crying baby. I try to run into the ring but it just seem to move further away. Illogical isn’t it? But it did happen. In my dream.

It seems like hours. I keep running, trying to save the baby . Its cries get louder but the volume suddenly lowers. That’s when I reach it. The loop. It didn’t burn me. I cross it safely and was able to pick up the baby. This was when my nightmare truly began.

As I cradle it in my arms, I spot a hooded figure in front of me. Outside the ring of blood. Draped in a black cloak, I could only smell his rotting scent. Slowly, he waves a decomposed hand in my direction and the baby disappeared. It wasn’t a baby anymore. It was just a bloody mess of organs. Ever felt a heart still beating in the palm of your hand? The slimy feel of intestines sliding through your fingers. You wouldn’t want to; trust me.

Before I even had time to react, I felt a searing pain on my lower back. I immediately dropped the organs, which swiftly turned back into a baby. In the back of my mind, I felt overwhelming guilt. I murdered an innocent life. A baby. It had a life ahead of it but I killed it.

With my remaining strength, I turn, determined to see who shot me. There, I saw all those I had help put a stop to. The Tommy Killer. Maggie, Lila’s stalker, Clara Hayes, and all the rest. They stood, staring at me, malicious grins adorning their faces. I fell to the floor.

I wasn’t dead. Oh, how I wish I was. The pain seeped through every nerve cell. The pain was beyond description. Somehow the fire erupted from the ring. I was literally burning. Laughter floated all around me. They taunted. Tortured. Why oh why couldn’t I die?

I try to plead. I beg. I cry. I writhed on the cold cave floor. I screamed and shout till I went hoarse. But they just laughed. Just laughed. The cloaked man had the worst laugh. It was high-pitch. It was a cackle. Like the one in a boiling or highly explosive cauldron. All through my begging he laughed. Je ne soigne pas de votre douleur. I care not of your pain.

Such cruelty. He says that three times. Bastard. The rest all laugh harder. The baby stares at me through glazed eyes. It was accusing. Bleeding from the head, trickles went into its eyes. Oh God. I can’t look. From somewhere far away, I hear its wailing. Kill me please.

I try to move. I slowly drag myself towards the edge. It took hours. Every breath I took sent a sharp stab to my spine. I could hardly feel my legs. I was dead weight. The fires lick my hands. I see my flesh burn., I see it cook, how much this hurts. I roll into it, the flames welcoming me with open arms.

It was an eternity before it all mercifully ended. And that only happens because I woke up. In a pool if sweat and breathing hard. Even when awake, I can still see their faces, feel the blood, hear the laughter.

Tell me, do you have dreams?