ABLOCATE ▇▇▇▇ VOLUME TWO
━━ ❛ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 ❜

chapter no. 039!

❝ FROM WHENCE THEY FELL. ❞
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﹙ MARCH 26TH, 2016 ﹚

     ANOTHER SLEEPLESS WEEKEND HAD COME AND GONE, LEAVING THE DOCTOR WITH CIRCLES DARKER THAN THE COLOR OF HIS MORNING COFFEE AND THE ENERGY LEVEL OF SOMEONE ON THEIR DEATH BED. To shorten it into simpler terms: Spencer Reid looked and felt terrible. Every time he attempted to sleep, it took him endless hours before he passed out and gained only an hour's worth of rest before he was awoken by nightmares and dreams painted with realities he prayed would never come true.

     He was living in his own Hell that had been sculpted by the quintessential hand of the Red Scorpions, or more specifically— its Founding Fathers.

     Every day was a waking nightmare that haunted every corner he turned and every direction he looked. Nothing was the same, and it hadn't been since May second. At least not for Spencer Reid, and the empty desk across from JJ's was his daily reminder of that.

     Abandoning his bag, the brown-haired man sat in his chair and stared blankly at the pile of files and paperwork awaiting him. Ordinarily, he enjoyed going through the paperwork and spending his time reading through each file, but not today. Something about today was different. Spencer didn't know what made it feel that way— he just knew.

     Perhaps it was because the team was still adjusting to Derek Morgan's absence, and Spencer no longer had one of his best friends working beside him. Or maybe it was because the lack of sleep had finally begun to take a toll on him.

     "Reid." A voice called, and Spencer blinked, trailing his inert gaze to the apprehensive and worrisome expression of Jennifer Jareau. The moment their eyes locked, JJ felt a rush of dread wash over her. Undoubtedly, her best friend was suffering, and what she was about to tell him would only worsen his pain and grief. "Another poem arrived this morning."

     The second the words left her mouth, Spencer was on his feet and making his way to the conference room.

     Taking a deep breath, JJ spun around and quickly chased after him.

     The poem the Bureau had received was the longest one yet and provided evidence the team desperately needed to convince Cruz and the director to keep the case active. However, the evidence was something that not everybody was prepared to see.

     "Where is it?" Spencer asked, his voice preceding him as he stepped into the conference room.

     Immediately, all conversation came to a jolted halt. Every set of eyes landed on the agent whose hand was outreached, anxiously waiting for someone to hand him the poem. Only a second had passed before JJ appeared and looked at Hotch before nodding.

     The team was soundless as their leader stood from the round table, a plastic evidence bag resting in his hands. "Anderson said that forensics ran a blood and fingerprint analysis on it this morning before we came in," he began, rolling his shoulders back. Spencer's hand dropped. "It came back as a match."

     "T-To who?" Spencer asked shakily, taking a step forward.

     Silence answered him as JJ glanced at the bag in the Unit Chief's hands from behind the brown-haired agent. She held her breath. Hotch inaudibly sighed. "The blood and fingerprints belong to Valentine," he announced, watching as Spencer shook his head.

     "Hotch, give me the bag," he demanded, holding his hand out again.

     Handing over the evidence bag, Hotch pursed his lips together. On his left, Penelope watched from where she sat in her seat with puffy eyes as Spencer narrowed his gaze on the paper. She didn't have the slightest clue what the poem meant— none of them did— but maybe he would. Perhaps the meaning of the poem was that Cara Valentine was still alive. Her blood was on it, after all. Surely, she was still alive... right?

     Spencer's blood ran cold as his eyes rapidly read and re-read the poem nine times. He knew these words.

     "At once, as far as Angels ken, he views the dismal situation waste and wild. A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, as one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames, no light; but rather darkness visible. Served only to discover sights of woe, regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace and rest can never dwell, hope never comes that comes to all, but torture without end still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed with ever-burning sulphur unconsumed." His voice cracked, and he reached for the nearest chair, sinking into it. His eyes couldn't stop but focus on the name signed at the bottom. A typewriter transcribed the poem, but the signature at the end of the page was written in dried blood.

     There were only four letters that spelled out the name Cara.

     Pushing down the growing lump in his throat, Spencer cleared his throat. "Such place Eternal Justice has prepared for those rebellious; here their prison ordained in utter darkness, and their portion set, as far removed from God and light of Heaven as from the centre thrice to th' utmost pole. Oh, how unlike the place from whence they fell," he concluded. He laid the bag on the table with shaking hands and pushed out of the chair.

     Rossi watched with sorrowful eyes as Spencer squeezed his eyes shut and turned his back to the team. "Kid, we're going to find her," he reassured, breaking the tense silence.

     "The blood and fingerprints are a good sign. It's proof that she's probably still alive," Penelope added, trying to add a glimmer of hope to the situation as she held onto Tara's hand tightly.

     "That could be true, but we have to consider the possibility that this could have been written months ago, and they've just been waiting for the perfect moment to send it," Hotch interjected. "If that's the case, she could already be dead. Them sending this is their way of saying, 'Here's what's left of her.'"

     "She's not dead, Hotch!" Spencer snapped quickly, flashing his stare at him. Tara and Rossi's eyes widened at the outburst. JJ inhaled sharply, and Penelope flinched. He was reaching his tipping point.

     "Reid, it's a possibility that we have to consider," he countered, keeping his tone even.

     Spencer shook his head. "No. No, it's not. In no universe will that be a possibility," he said sternly, his voice sharp and aggressive.

     "Reid—"

     "Did you not listen when I read the poem? She's not dead," Spencer argued, pointing to the table.

     Right away, Tara's eyebrows pulled together. "Do you recognize the poem?" she asked, her question causing everyone to look her way.

     Running a hand through his hair, the doctor nodded. "It's from John Milton's sixteen-sixty-seven Paradise Lost. It's the book that we believe, and Cara confirmed, influenced the Red Scorpions to kill Corey Lal and the others execution-style during the Surrey Six killings in two-thousand-and-seven. Surrey Six represented how Milton used the theme of God justifying his actions to men in Paradise Lost." Spencer answered.

     "Paradise Lost is mentioned a lot in the Red Scorpions case files. Why is that?" Tara followed up. She'd already read the case files and knew why, but she wanted to see if Reid explaining it would bring a cloud of clarity to the team. Prompt them to start from the beginning and figure out how the book was or could still be connected to Cara's disappearance.

     "It, uh, it's Cara's favorite book other than Persuasion by Jane Austen. When she was a child, she and her father moved into an abandoned house in the woods of British Columbia. She found a stack of books in one of the rooms and stumbled upon Paradise Lost. Her father read it to her since she was only five when they moved in, and it became her favorite. Once she learned how to read, it was the one book she always re-read the most. She's read it so many times she can recite the entire book verbatim.

     "Her obsession with it was something every Scorpion member was aware of. Due to how much she loved it and Michael Le's infatuation with her at a young age, Cara believed that he purposefully used the book to his advantage and found ways to incorporate it into everything the Scorpions did and how they viewed themselves. Collectively, the Red Scorpions view themselves as God, all-knowing, when it comes to their trade, and the book plays directly into that perception. They relate to the adaptation of God in Milton's book." Spencer explained, pacing around the room.

     Tara hummed, "What you just mentioned about how it became Cara's favorite book; how do you know that?"

     Her question caused the doctor to slow down his pace, and he glanced up from the ground. "The night of Morgan and Savannah's Christmas Party in twenty-thirteen, we took a taxi back to our apartment complex. I went to her apartment with her, and we uh, we talked for a while. She told me," he responded; his voice was faint, and he couldn't help but nearly smile at the memory of Cara grumbling about how much she hated the shoes she had been wearing and instantly changing into sweats the moment they arrived at her apartment.

     "She opened up to you that night, didn't she?" Rossi questioned, leaning forward in his seat. Spencer furrowed his brows. "I noticed that the two of you had become closer after the holidays. I'm assuming it's because of that night."

     Nodding slowly, Spencer continued to pace as he could feel his cheeks burning.

     "Why haven't you brought up this night before?" Hotch asked, crossing his arms.

     Spencer immediately locked eyes with him and gulped. "Nothing we talked about is beneficial to the case or connected," he lied, straightening his posture.

     "That's not for you to decide, Reid. You know Valentine better than anyone in this room. She trusted you, so everything she has ever said to you is important." The Unit Chief stated firmly, his stare narrowing.

     "What else did she tell you that night?" JJ asked gently, hoping her tone of voice would put her best friend at ease.

     He could tell them, right then and there, about Roy, The Toxic Boy, and Le's past sexual interactions with Cara. He could tell them about how Le used to call her from prison and the letters he would send her that she'd never read. He could tell them, but Cara had told those things to him in confidence that he wouldn't break her trust, and he didn't want to break that bond. Besides, before he told them anything, he wanted to ensure he figured out how to find her or at least discovered a way.

     "The poem sent today is from lines fifty-nine to seventy-four of Book One of Paradise Lost. At the very beginning, Milton discusses how the fallen angels were hurled from Heaven and laid for the space of nine days on a fiery gulf." Spencer informed the team, bringing the focus away from that night and back to the new lead.

     The diversion was sudden but did not go unnoticed as Hotch and JJ exchanged apprehensive glances. Cara had told Reid something that night, but whatever it was, it wasn't something he was willing to share with the team. Not at the present time, at least.

     "Okay..." Tara trailed off slowly, a perplexed expression clouding over her face.

     "Milton goes on to say that the region in which the fallen angels are imprisoned is a fiery dungeon, such as a furnace, but the flames of Hell give no light. At this moment in the poem, he uses the universal symbolism of light and dark to indicate good and evil; when Milton describes Heaven, he does so in terms of brilliant light. He also applies the same universal symbolism to Satan, who before his fall— as Lucifer, star of the morning— was the brightest of all the angels. After his fall, he becomes progressively eviler and loses all of his brightness.

     "In Milton's version of Hell, it is literally the underworld. Heaven is the zenith of the universe, then there is the great gulf of Chaos and Night, and finally, at the bottom, underneath everything, is Hell. The phrase most commonly associated with Milton's Hell that has occasioned much discussion is the statement that describes Hell as "A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, as one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames, no light; but rather darkness visible." One of the sentences from the portion of the poem that was sent to us. The concept of flames that give off both light and darkness that is visible has troubled critics over the years.

     "But, while one may say that the phrase "darkness visible" is oxymoronic, it is also meaningful. Heaven, which is pure light, is also pure goodness. Hell is the opposite; pure evil and pure darkness. A darkness so pure that it is visible, a contrasting quality to the blinding light of Heaven. The section that we were sent could have two meanings. One, the Scorpions view Cara as a fallen angel who rebelled against them. She told us everything she knew when we arrested her and who her father was. She opened her mouth when she was strictly instructed and trained not to. She rebelled and turned against the only people she knew. By taking her back, they are punishing and imprisoning her in Hell. However, unlike the fallen angels, she isn't lying on a fiery gulf for nine days; she's in Hell.

     "Two, the Scorpions are giving us a clue as to where she is located. Hell is pure evil and filled with a visible darkness. In one line, Milton describes Hell as "a dungeon horrible on all sides round," which could indicate that she is being held in an underground bunker, similar to the one she lived in, or in an area that could be considered a dungeon. It would be a dark room, but it has access to light if necessary.

     "When Satan was sent to Hell, his brightness slowly faded as more time passed and things grew darker. So, at one point, it'd be reasonable to assume that Cara was initially being held somewhere with a lot of light, but she was soon moved to a more secure, darker location. Both of these meanings can go hand-in-hand, but the message is clear: Cara is still alive. None of the fallen angels were killed. If they view her as one, they won't kill her. Hence, the writing of her name in her blood.

     "In Christianity, which the Scorpions have been influenced by, blood symbolizes life, as indicated by multiple passages in the Bible that state that the life of an organism, whether it be humans or animals, is in its blood. Cara's blood is proof of life. She's alive." Spencer stated insistently. Cara Valentine was alive, and he was going to find her.

     Everyone basked in solemn silence as they took a moment to digest what the doctor had said.

     It made perfect sense— every word.

     "Let's say that you're right, that Cara is alive and being held in Hell. Where would this "Hell" be located? Sure, she could be confined in an area considered or seen as a dungeon, but where would that be?" JJ asked, her brows scrunching together as she made her way to the table.

     "Possibly a place that the Scorpions believe represents Hell," Rossi theorized.

     Hotch crossed his arms. "Reid, are there any historical or known locations that people believe are home to or gateways to Hell?"

     Shrugging while nodding his head, Spencer coughed. "In the Bible, it's clear that Hell is inside the Earth. Ephesians 4:9 says of Jesus, "Now that He ascended, what is it but that He also descended first into the lower parts of the earth." Psalm 63:9 also states, "But those who seek my life, to destroy it, shall go into the lower parts of the earth." There are several other verses that support this belief. In terms of physical locations, there are thirteen known places on earth that people believe were entrances to Hell," he replied.

     "Are any of those located in Canada or the US?" Hotch questioned, motioning for Penelope to grab her laptop.

     Spencer nodded. "In British Columbia, there's an abrupt narrowing of Fraser River located directly downstream of Boston Bar in the southern Fraser Canyon that was named Hells Gate. It's located in the Scenic Fraser Canyon on the Trans-Canada Highway number one, just fifty-two kilometers north of Hope and forty-eight kilometers south of Lytton. It's also a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Vancouver if you take Highway One. The name 'Hells Gate' was derived from the journal of explorer Simon Fraser, who in eighteen-oh-eight described this narrow passage as "a place where no human should venture, for surely these are the gates of Hell."

     "However, no known religious affiliations exist with its name or location. In the US, a local legend claims that the Seven Gates of Hell sits in Hellam Township, Pennsylvania. There are many tellings of the tale, though one of the more popular versions links the gates to a former insane asylum on the outskirts of the town. This story describes a fire at the asylum in the nineteenth century, allowing dangerous inmates to escape. Running wild, many of them were recaptured, beaten, or killed. Other tormented souls were trapped inside a series of gates, which they haunt to this day.

     "It is said that only the first gate is visible by daylight, and it lies on private land just off the town's Trout Run Road. By night, other gates become visible in this quiet, wooded corner of the township. Passing through all seven will take the visitor straight to hell, and it's reported that nobody has yet passed five and returned to talk about the experience. Another story deals with a local doctor, accounts of whom range from eccentric to psychotic. He was said to have owned the land on which he built a series of peculiar gates leading deeper and deeper into the forest.

     "Hellam Township has stated on its website that the stories aren't true. There was never an asylum on Trout Run Road, while the notorious doctor— who did exist— only ever built one gate on his property. There are also other locations in the US, but none are as popular. Urban legends claim that the Gates of Hell, and the devil, can be found through a collection of drains in Clifton, New Jersey, and in the Stull Cemetery in Stull, Kansas." Spencer finished breathlessly, ending his steady pacing as he sat at the round table.

     Before anyone had the chance to respond, Hotch spoke, "Everyone, pack your bags. We're going to Hellam Township."

𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆   ───   ❪ CRIMINAL MINDS ❫
act two:      𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚂,       ²
╱ ✹     ▬▬      ❛ © CARDIIAC      2023. ❜
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𓄹 ━━━ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓! ࿐ ໋₊ ˖

     hey everyone!! i hope you all enjoyed the thirty-ninth chapter!

     derek is gone, noooooooo :( you'll see him again before this book ends, though! i promise!

     and these bitches are so desperate for anything, for any clue they can find, that they're going to a place where there's no concrete evidence that cara could be there... we're grasping onto straws, folks. straws.

     DISCLAIMER: the next chapter is sort of a trippy one, i just want to warn everyone! it's a really good one but might be a little mind-boggling.

     also! I HOPE EVERYONE IS HAVING A GREAT WEEK SO FAR!!

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˒⠀𝑹𝑬𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹. . . ▬⠀⤸

Thank you all for taking the time out of your day to comment on this story. It means a lot and helps the story be spread to a broader audience &&& allows me to grow as an author. All I ask is that people vote on each chapter, please. As a creator, it takes time to write and develop stories. Especially ones such as this that take a while to write and dedicate time to. So please, vote on every chapter. It means a lot more than I could ever express.

Don't forget to vote & comment!

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˒⠀𝑪𝑶𝑷𝒀𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻. . . ▬⠀⤸

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