Ok, here's a new idea I've had. Hope you guys like the little teaser I'm putting up. Please, please, let me know what you think and be honest!

Everything had been carefully thought out. Every detail carefully put into place and each stepped planned out with a supreme amount of precision and intelligence. This was the moment he had been waiting for. The man laughed to himself as he looked at the camera streaming a live feed to the basement of his house. There, he could see the fruit of his labors. See the result of years' worth of planning. Everything had come off without a hitch. Everything was perfect.

He couldn't contain his glee as he watched the six figures that were chained to the wall slowly start to stir. Oh, this was going to be great! Finally, finally, he would have his revenge. The one who had ruined his life would pay for his actions. He would suffer, as the man had suffered so long ago. Now, he would know what he had done. He would know the pain he inflicted as the man inflicted that same pain on him.

Another chuckle slipped out when he saw one of the people lift their head.

Let the games begin

Consciousness came slowly for the six people lining the walls of their prison. One by one they woke, groans echoing off the walls, little sounds from their shifting as each one tried to adjust their bodies. Aaron Hotchner was the first to fully wake and become alert. He was the first to jerk his hands and realize that they were shackled above him on the wall. There was an ache in his shoulders that told him he'd been dangling unconscious for a while, his arms supporting his full weight. With a groan, he straightened his feet under him, easing the pressure on his shoulders. Pain was splitting through his head. Looking around the room, he tried to fight the coil of dread as he saw who else was with him.

When a moan came from his right, Aaron turned to look at the man there who was slowly blinking his eyes against the light in the room. "Dave…" 'Are you ok?' was on the tip of Aaron's tongue. He knew the question was stupid and useless. No, he wasn't ok. None of them were ok.

David Rossi looked at Aaron, seeing how he was held against the wall, seeing the shackles on his wrists. He gave his own hands a shake as he realized that he too was restrained. "Son of a bitch." The curse slipped from the senior profiler's mouth. "What the hell happened?"

"That's what I want to know." Morgan's deep voice drew their eyes to the other side of the room where the darker agent was glaring up at his hands.

The room they were in appeared to be a half circle on this end, branching out to an almost square shape on the other side. In that half circle were the six profilers. Aaron was at one edge, followed by Dave. Next to him was Emily, who was groaning and trying to lift her head. On her other side was Spencer, still out cold, his head dangling limply. Garcia was next, already awake and with her feet steady under her, eyes wide and breath hitching as she looked at them all with panic. Last was Morgan, angry and furious looking, his feet shifting to better his stance as if he was preparing for a fight. Each one of them had their hands shackled to the wall above them.

Aaron licked his dry lips to try and bring some moisture there. He needed to stay calm. He was the leader; it was his job to stay calm. "I had just arrived home and was going to unlock my door when I heard something move. I didn't even get the chance to draw my weapon before I was struck in the head. It's the last thing I remember." He told them all stiffly. It was difficult for him to admit to being taken.

A growl from Morgan drew all eyes to him. "I was walking Clooney toward the park for our evening run when some bastard came out with a gun and told me not to move. His buddy must have been behind me. I got smashed in the head, too."

"I think it's safe to say we were all knocked out." Dave said dryly. His eyes were slightly pinched from pain but otherwise he was maintaining that calm he was famous for. "I was leaving a restaurant and was just unlocking my car when I got hit."

Emily cleared her throat in an effort to find her voice. Her legendary compartmentalizing skills were a little faulty from her fear and disorientation, but she was rapidly coming to herself. "A van pulled up next to me while I was walking and a guy jumped out with a gun. I got mine out, but he told me to rethink it. Said he had Garcia. When he opened the back of the van, another guy was there, holding a gun to her head. I put down mine like I was told and that was when I got hit."

"They got me at Kevin's." Garcia whispered. Her body was trembling and there were tears in her bright eyes. "Someone was waiting for us there. He knocked Kevin out and, and, I tried to run but, God, he chased me down. I remember being tackled and then nothing. Oh God, why are they doing this to us?"

Morgan turned toward her, unable to reach out and touch as he usually would, aching to do something to calm his friend and protect her. The rest of them were at least trained to handle these kinds of situations. Garcia was not. She was at home with her computers, safe at the Bureau. Something like this was going to devastate her. "Come on, baby girl. I need you to calm down and breathe for me, ok? Panic isn't going to help right now. You need to just breathe for me and get things under control. We'll figure out a way out of here." He prayed it was true. In that moment, he swore to himself to do what he could to protect his bubbly friend.

She took a deep breath but nodded at him, obviously trying to calm herself down. Her eyes shifted around the room, looking at each one of her babies. It was when she saw Spencer that she forgot her earlier panic and focused on an entirely new panic. Spencer was the only one who hadn't moved yet. He was the only one that still hung limply from his chains. Something about the way he looked made him seem so out of place. While the others were all dressed in average clothes, with Morgan dressed in running clothes, Spencer was dressed as if he was ready for bed in a t-shirt and plaid pants.

"Reid?" She called out to him. There was fear in her voice from seeing him so still. "Reid, come on, wake up!" Frightened, she turned to look at the others. "Why isn't he awake yet?"

Aaron tried to keep his own fear from showing when he answered her. "Give him time, Garcia. His chest is still moving, I can see it from here, so we know he's alive. He might just take a little longer to wake than we did." Underneath his cool exterior, he too was praying for Spencer to wake up. There was something about the absolute stillness the young doctor was showing that was slightly terrifying. All eyes were on him now.

As if in answer to their fear, Spencer's head gave a little twitch. Instead of the groans of pain that the others had given, Spencer gasped and almost instantly shoved his bare feet flat on the ground. His head snapped up and his body jerked back against the wall, trying to assume a defensive posture. Wide eyes looked unseeing at the room in front of him. Then, slowly, he seemed to realize who and what he was seeing. Realization slowly dawned on his face. "Guys?"

"Yeah, Reid." Emily told him. "It's us. All of us. Nice of you to wake up and join the party."

His posture relaxed only minimally. They all saw the wince when he shifted. It was Garcia who spoke next. "You ok, sugar plum? How'd they get you here?"

Spencer tipped his head to look at her in confusion before he seemed to connect her words. He was functioning slowly enough that they all couldn't help but wonder how hard he'd been hit in the head. They found out as he started to talk. "I…I was sleeping. I woke up to a hand over my mouth." Pausing, he cleared his throat. "Someone climbed on the bed and, and pinned me down. Then they put a needle in my arm." The last words were said almost shamefully. His eyes jerked down towards his feet. "I felt the rush and then nothing. I woke up here."

"And here is where you shall all be staying." Another voice intruded on their moment. Six sets of eyes snapped up to look as their Unsub stood in the door at the far end of the room, a gun in his hand that looked suspiciously like one of their own. "Hello, BAU Agents. I imagine you're all wondering why you're in my humble basement."

"What the hell do you want, you bastard?" Morgan demanded loudly. To his side he could practically feel Garcia tense in fear at the sight of the man and the gun. The rest of the profilers were silent, watching the man, one of them watching with eyes that were a little wider than the others.

The man let out a laugh that held no real traces of humor in it. "Patience, Agent Morgan. All will be revealed in due time. I was just coming to make sure all of you had arrived in good health and to introduce myself." He leaned against the doorframe, wearing a cocky grin. "My name is Marcus Duran." When he said his name, all of them startled slightly. That had Marcus chuckling once more. "Oh, trust me, agents. I want you to know my name. I want you to know who I am. And no, telling you my name and showing you my face does not mean I plan to kill you. At least, not all of you. It is just rather important to the game that you know who I am."

Without warning he shifted, straightening back up. "I'll leave you to think on that until morning time. Enjoy your night!" Then, before anyone could say a word, he was out the door and was shutting it behind him.