Criminal Minds X Novels & Stories

Letting out a growl she runs to the area, the bricked walls not so high but in the height where a human cannot climb, she walks in, the interior is the walls of separate rooms in different heights, where some are short one wall and some are two, typically like a maze. Cautiously she tramples across the bare land, her eyes catching every corner. Her movements stop, she steps back leaning on to the large wall...The sound of footsteps get closer... She jumps forward when a familiar man comes to her view, the man who murdered Philips's son, she read through the files in Mintz’s office to find out whether Mintz had known about it and as expected he did know, he knows everything behind the AIM’s c

"How are you holding up?" Xander asked just after he finished examining me. My chest, just close to my heart was burning up. It wasn't as painful as at that moment I was shot but the pain was bad. I've suffered a gunshot wound before when Marlon had invited me on one of the typical police chases. The suspect was a drug dealer, abuser and a single father. He had slaughtered his fifteen year old daughter in cold blood because he was high, drunk and angry.

A familiar voice broke the trance of my thought. " Blake?" I breathed out his name in disbelief when he gestured towards the glass full of water in his hand. The crave to quench my throat filled my consciousness but by suppressing that urge, I hesitatingly took a step back and shook my head. " Leave." I whispered. His deep black eyes stared into mine with nothing but offering a pure comfort as if he was there to heal my wounds but in a flicker of emotions in his eyes, he became distant. Right. After all what I can expect from another criminal who is nothing but a pawn of Zachary behind the façade of friendship? These all are criminals, they had murdered many innocents. How can they offer hea

“You being accused somehow make sense because you might have had your criminal impulse that day—” I stopped in my tracks which made him do too. I faced him and spoke in a firm manner, “Would you please refrain from speaking any symptoms related to my condition? It makes me uncomfortable. My crime-solving partner thinks that I am as evil as a criminal mastermind? Outrageous,” and then, I turned my back at him and continued my trip out of the JHB.

“Nah, it ain’t like that. These guys . . . no. They don’t know shit. You could almost call my client’s interest academic.” Joe’s eyebrow jumps and I hurry to add, “Not in a public way. Nobody’s writing a book.” “I’ll play along for now,” he says, “but I’m trusting you, Miles.” I nod and trace a circle in the air over our empty shot glasses for the bartender. “What do you want to know?” “For starters, your honest opinion: Do you believe the killer is a gangbanger?” “The first victim was a known member of the Ghost Shadows.” It doesn’t get past me that that’s not a direct answer.

(Bright's POV) Understanding the minds of criminals is my job. Sitting in a locked room with a person who's seen a lot of people die before his eyes doesn't bother me anymore. In fact, it never did. I see a maximum security prison as an amusement park. But instead of fun rides and various attractions, the stars of this place are serial killers and their magnificent crimes. Killing is a form of art, and I'm just one of a million people who would fall asleep with their dark confessions like it's some bedtime story.

He shrugged, grinning. I shook my head, walking down the sidewalk, not minding that the nutjob was trailing behind me. Even though he had no idea where I was heading, but something told me he already knew. Is there even anything about me those damn thugs doesn't know already? I seriously doubt that. "The Marino brothers, huh?" I muttered, dreading the litany of crimes they had already committed and the ones still in store that they are yet to commit. I should be scared of those bastards, but maybe Giovanni's cock had blocked my sense of reasoning. Just how can I be so cool with hanging around them when I knew their bad records?

Mami Grace was not the only target of Xander's anger, she was also affected. At that time, Chris provided information about the woman he saw Xander raping that night, although it was not helpful since Chris's position at the time was limited to standing in the bedroom door and only behind the a woman is seen. "Long hair, white skin, smooth. Small body, that's the only Boss I've seen before," said Chris according to what he knew. Even if Harvey had checked the CCTV cameras installed in the Club that night, they still weren't enough to help the investigation. Meanwhile, Xander himself can't quite remember the woman's true face because he's under the influence of alcohol, aka drunk.

Not the ugly, scarred, cracked-open pieces that had to survive long before Brandon ever happened. He knows the aftermath. The bruises and the blood. The hospital photos, the scars I couldn’t hide. But that’s just a chapter. There’s a whole damn book before that, and most of it doesn’t have happy endings. Xavier doesn’t know the things I’ve done. The people I’ve tricked. The way I’ve used my body just to stay warm, just to eat, just to make it through the night. He doesn’t know how survival can twist a person into something unrecognizable—and how easy it is to become numb when no one is watching.

My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat, but I tried to hold on to one small, desperate fact: I'd seen Xahen three times now, and he hadn't killed me yet. The guard had said I was being moved, not executed. Although, I wasn't stupid enough to think the guards here would be above lying to me. This kingdom seemed way too depraved to worry about the mental state of their prisoners. I couldn't stop thinking about those men in the forest. The way Xahen had rounded them up and sent his wolf to slaughter every single one of them like they were nothing more than meat. In Duskmire, criminals were hung at worst. Maybe shot. Deaths were quick, humane.