❝Garret Jacob Hobbs? FBI❞
Abigail heard a voice over her own soft whimpering, the cool steel of the knife pressed against her exposed neck while her father held her tight in his grasp, rocking back and forth. He was muttering in her ear but she couldn’t hear him, her own thoughts clouded in her mind as she wondered if her mother was dead; she probably was, Abigail watched as her father slit her neck right in front of her, and now she was next.
A man claiming himself as F.BI entered the kitchen and her father got desperate, she could tell, as the blade sliced her neck and blood gushed from the slit. A shot rang out and Abigail fell limply to the floor, blood profusely spilled from her wound. More shots rang out and she heard another body fall onto the floor, she could spot her father from the corner of her eyes.
Someone then came into view; a man with blood speckled across his face hovered over her and pressed scarlet hands against her neck, trying to halt the bleeding. He looked distraught, like a weight had been pulled onto him. Another man stepped from seemingly no-where and pried his hands away, succeeding where he was failing. It was then she slipped into a deep unconsciousness.
Abigail’s heavy-lidded eyes fluttered open at a white ceiling, thoughts of heaven sparked in her mind. She was disorientated, confused to where she was and how she got here.
The last 24 hours relapsed in her mind and she tried to sit up, her head dizzy and body weak from the amount blood she’d lost. Tubes and wires were attached to her frail body and seeing them sent her into a spiral of shock; she quickly pulled at them, growing more panicked and frenzied.
She glanced up having seen a figure next to her bed and tried to scream; she remembered his face clearly from her subconsciousness. It was face she’d be unlikely to ever forget. Abigail panicked, her heartbeat wildly increased.
I remember you. You killed my dad.
The speeding up of the monitor slices through the silence and through the profiler’s thoughts. He jumps in his seat when Abigail Hobbs wakes up and fumbles with the tubes and wires connected to her body, pulling them off.
He tries to stop her, jumping up and hurrying over to where she lay, but she finally looks up at him and the recognition in her eyes is enough to tell him how scared of him she is. He freezes into place under her frenzied gaze before finally stepping back and away from her. By then nurses had been alerted and rushed in and make their way to the girl. They speak to her with soothing voices as they try to calm her down. They reattach the tubes and the wires and turn off the alarm that had alerted them to the room.
He stands in the corner of the room, eyes fixed on the scene layed out before him. His glassy eyes tell a different story.
❝This is {y o u r} fault❞
❝You destroyed her life❞
❝You didn’t save her;❞
❝you failed her❞
❝You orphaned her❞
❝You mutilated her❞
❝I should have killed her when I had the chance–❞
❝Before you ruined it❞
Garret Jacob Hobbs’ voice rang in his head, louder than any of the other voices. When he looks up, he can see him standing by the bed, still in the blood-stained clothes, the ten bullet-wounds jumping out harshly against the dull fabric. His unseeing eyes seem to fixate on Will’s as accusations are throw at him.
makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstopp l e a s emakeitstop
Now shaking, he shuts his eyes and hit at his temples with the heels of his hand – a habit he’d grown to doing when the voices are louder than they usually are. It does nothing to stop them, but he likes to think that it does.