You guys, the BAU, had a profile — the unsub followed girls who drove by car all through the desert of New Mexico and they ended up dead, tongues missing, clearly dehydrated, cars lost. It was not hard to guess — he was hunting women who were alone, and the man had a profile himself: you. Yes, you were the perfect fit to his profile, from hair to skin color. Of course, some of the women were not exactly the M.O, but it was rare — he only killed out his own profile when he got bored or too angry.

Spencer hated the idea of you being bait, though. But... You guys had no idea if the unsub was the town's diner owner, the gas station guy, a cop — you were wary of everyone because of that. Penelope Garcia had been clever enough to give you a bracelet with a GPS locator, another one being inside the car — you guys had to know what he did to both the car and the women, right?

It wasn't any of the previous options. Oh, no, it was so much worse than that: it was the local sheriff, Jason Hutter. People knew he was weird, but... serial killer? But there it was: the unsub you and your team were hunting. How did you know? Well, he had followed you all through the empty road, shot your tires and kidnapped you to the back of the tow company his own brother, now dead, owned. And the location of the missing cars. Tied to a chair, hands bound to the back of it, you noticed: the wall of his treasures, filled with driver's licenses of women — more than the ones the FBI had found. Shit.

You were scared, but not deadly — Penelope had your location. The bad part is that it took your team a moment to get there, and when they did, Jason Hutter had punched you, your nose bleeding from it. Spencer? Furious. JJ, Tara and Emily pointed guns at him.

"FBI!" Spencer screamed, knuckles white as he held his gun to the man who held you hostage. Hutter, though, was smirking.

"Women." Said John Hutter with a smirk, rolling his eyes. "Always ruining everything."

"Shut up." Said Spencer, looking at you, worried. "You're under arrest."