The scene was horrific. The basement floor was covered in blood and limbs, some of the body parts appearing to be gnawed upon or sliced open. There was no direct method to the killer's motives with some of the bodies appearing to be neatly sliced with organs missing while others were hacked and torn apart. The smell of decomposing bodies was over powering causing many FBI agents to leave the scene. Agent Will Graham was all too familiar with these kinds of murders, his mind easily slipping into the killer's mind to try and track a method to his madness. Unfortunately, he had been on the case for weeks and wasn't any closer to the figuring out the cannibalistic killer than when he started.
Will blinked and came back into his own mind, rubbing at his eyes as he attempted sort out the new information and figure out what could be of use. It wasn't much. He listened as agents walked around upstairs and gathered evidence and move bodies to be taken to autopsy. Will hoped they could ID some of the victims so their families could have some solace. He glanced around the room once more before turning to Jack Crawford, who was looking at him expectantly. As Will shook his head, Crawford became angry.
"Will this is the fourth family we've found and we aren't any closer to finding him," Crawford snapped. "Are you even trying?" It was Will's turn to snarl, hands curling into fists.
"It's not my fault I can't get a read, Jack. I'm not a psychic. I get what I can from the crime scenes. He leaves little for me to pick up on even though his methods are messy and inconsistent." Will had been over every possibility. The killer was either a butcher or a surgeon, for the cuts that were made to take out delicate organs were done with a precise hand. However they couldn't find anyone who matched anything Will suggested. Everyone on the team were at their wits end with this case and right now all Will wanted was to be able to go home and sleep in the safety of his dogs.
Crawford gave Will one last glare before storming off upstairs, barking orders at anyone who was within ear shot. Will sighed and rubbed his eyes once more. He was left alone in the basement, the stench finally getting to him. He began to make his way back up to the main floor when a noise caught his attention. Drawing his gun, he crept toward the sound and found himself standing by a water furnace. Puzzled, Will tapped along the wall before feeling an odd protrusion in the wall. Taking his flashlight out, he discovered that it was a discrete lever, leading to a secret room. Before he could think about what he was doing, Will opened the door and was bombarded with the fresh stench of blood. Staggering back, Will readied his gun in case the killer was in there, but quickly lowered it at what he saw.
Sitting in a pool of blood was a little boy of no more than seven or eight years. His eyes were wide, his body shaking and quaking under Will's gaze. In his arms lay a limp and hacked body of a little girl, her blond hair streaked with blood.
Will gasped at the sight and stepped forward to help the boy, but retreated when the boy flinched back, clutching at the body protectively. Will dropped to his knees, holstering his gun and setting his flashlight on the ground. He raised his hands slowly in a pacifying manner and slumped his shoulders in, making himself appear defenseless and non aggressive.
"Hey there," Will spoke, his voice soft and coaxing. He held his palms face up, showing there was nothing in them and held them out as if the boy was a stray dog he was trying to ease and sooth. The boy still flinched as Will's hands got closer, but his shoulders were relaxed. Will hypothesized the boy thought he was the killer coming to finish the job and now he saw it was just a stranger he was calmer. However, not by much. "I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Agent Will Graham. I work for the FBI. You are going into shock and need to be treated. Will you let me approach you?"
The boy continued to stare at Will with owlish eyes, his brown eyes staring directly into Will's blue. Will was surprised eye contact with the boy wasn't making him as uncomfortable as it should have, but he chalked it up to the fact this was a child and was in need of help. He waited for the boy to give a sign he understood and would allow him to come closer, but the boy remained still. A few moments passed before tears came to the boy's eyes. His lips moved and Will had to strain his ears to hear what the boy was saying.
"M...Mischa." Was all the boy uttered, clutching the body of the little girl to his chest. Will's heart shattered as he watched as the boy broke eye contact and looked at the girl. He gently shook her as if to wake her, but the girl continued to lay limply in his lap. The boy continued to call to the girl, occasionally speaking sentences in another language, but his efforts were in vain. Will didn't know what to do as he watched as the boy began to break down, his shock ebbing away and the horrors of reality catching up with him. Hesitantly, Will placed a hand on the boy's trembling shoulder.
The boy violently jerked out of his grasp and Will took his hand back, but soon found himself with the boy and the dead girl in his lap. The boy held on desperately to the girl with one hand and Will's jacket with the other. He continued to babble in another language, the only word Will was able to make out was "Mischa". Will wrapped his arms around the boy, holding him steady as he sobbed and gently rocked him. He was so focused on helping the boy he barely made out the sounds of feet running down the stairs to his location. He twisted enough to look over his shoulder as Crawford and some others from his team stood a few feet away, stunned at what they saw.
Crawford was the first to break the momentary paralysis, "Get a paramedic!" and within minutes the paramedics arrived with a stretcher to take the boy to the ambulance. When they tried to take the boy from Will's arms, he screamed and held tighter, burying his face into Will's chest. Will held his hand up for the paramedic to back up a little before addressing the distressed child.
"Shh, shh, it's okay. It's okay. I need you to do something for me okay?" The child raised his head and looked at Will, his eyes watery and red. Will realized that even though he spoke in another language, he could understand Will perfectly. "I need you to go with the paramedic. They are good people. They are going to fix you up and take you to the hospital."
The child shook his head, his gaze going from Will, the paramedic, to the girl, and finally back to Will. "Will you go with them if I come along?" The child quickly nodded and clung to the girl as Will hoisted both of them up and onto the stretcher. However, things became problematic again when someone tried to take the girl away.
"Ne! Ji lieka!"
Will gently hushed and calmed him down once more before reasoning with him. "She needs help too. She'll be going with us, but on a different stretcher, okay? They need to help you first before anything can be done for her." Will felt terrible. He knew by saying this he was getting the boy's hopes up that the girl would make it alive, but he had a suspicion that the boy was aware she was dead, but in his shock he was trying to deny it. The boy blinked at Will a few times before letting out a sob and relinquishing the girl to another agent. He watched as she was taken away before his eyes drooped and his collapsed onto the stretcher.
Will followed the paramedics to the ambulance and was about to get in when Crawford called to him. "I'll meet you at the hospital."
Will nodded before climbing in, taking hold of the boy's hand as the ambulance pulled away from the crime scene.