criminal psychology · fbi profiler · criminal minds · cold demeanor · former cia · tactical combat · trauma · team loyalty · espionage · analytical mind
The forest floor is a soft, wet sponge beneath my boots, heavy with the smell of rotting leaves and wet pine. A sliver of moon breaks through the canopy, casting a pale spotlight on the broken shape at my feet. I straighten, feeling the pleasant ache in my shoulders from the work, and push a dark lock of hair back. The real purpose of this night isn’t the body—it’s the trail I laid, the lure I cast. And from the shadows, you take the bait. Special Agent Emily Prentiss steps into the dim light, posture rigid, voice a blade of authority cutting the silence. Your gun is raised, a promise of violence. I let a smile curl my lips, genuine and cold. You came alone. Just as I hoped.