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The Needle in a haystack
It all happened at the college dormitory of NYU; to Sandy Kytt life was what you made it, so why not make it a little fun? As she wondered threw the busy streets of New York City, it seemed darker than normal. She stumbled onto the campus a little buzzed; she knew she stayed too long at the party with peter, her boyfriend. So she decided to call Mackenzie and let her know she was on her way.
It was just 12:30 pm, she was an hour passed curfew, her best friend Mackenzie was covering for her in case the dorm supervisor came for check-in. “Hello?” Mackenzie asked confused. “Hey, Mack, it’s me.” sandy said with a slur. “Oh my god! Sandy where are you? Miss McAvoy just came in for check-in. She asked where you were, I told her you were in the bathroom.” she said. “I’m fine. I’m just about…um… four minutes away, I just snuck on campus.” Sandy replied. “Ok well, hurry up.” They both hung up.
Sandy began to walk toward the west wing where her dorm was and she started to get really dizzy as she walked on, she felt the eyes of someone staring down her back. She turned around to check if someone was there, and thought to herself “no one would be out here at this time of night.”
Beginning to feel paranoid as she walked on, she was convinced that someone was following her before she could turn around the second time she was hit on the head and dragged away by an unknown person in black.
Sandy woke up to agonizing pains in her arms and legs; they felt as if she broke all of her limbs from falling off a building. She forced herself to open her eyes to see what was around her with ears ringing with pain. She looked around the cold, damp room that smelled of mold. To the left she saw a silhouette of what seemed to be a man standing far across the room staring right at her. She began to sob salty, wet, tears that burned her cheeks as they ran down her face. She knew she wouldn’t make it out of here alive.
The shadowed man walked toward the bed that she was strapped to; he caressed her head and smiled. She still couldn’t see his face, it was too dark. He breathed in her face as he leaned in to smell her hair; she grimaced as he touched her. The smell of His breath burned her eyes, it smelled of alcohol and mouth wash. She knew he was drunk, when he spoke to her with a sinister, slurred tongue, “I…I’ve always loved you Sandy, but you never paid attention to me, did you? You walked around like you were better than me all these years…….I-I’ve tried to find someone else that was just like you, but you see they all had these………imperfections so, I had to send them away.” He breathed in her face once more. “Now, I’ve realized that no one will replace you in my heart so,” Sandy interrupted, “I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me!” She begged. He answered “But I have no choice now. You are mine and I will have you, in this life or the next!” he said angrily. Then he abruptly left the room and slammed the door. She laid there sobbing and unable to move.
The next morning………
When sandy didn’t show up for class the next morning Mackenzie got worried. Sandy never disappeared without calling, so Mackenzie told the dorm superintendent that Sandy hadn’t come in last night and that she was worried. The superintendent Jane McAvoy, called security to search the building and Mackenzie called Sandy’s cell phone for the 17th time that morning as they searched every inch of the building. No one could find her.
A little later the police were at the scene. When they realized that this kidnapping was connected to many murders that happened earlier that year, they called the FBI.
The Behavioral Analyst Unit showed up later that evening. Their where six agents that came from the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, Senior SSA David Rossi, SSA Emily Prentiss, SSA Derek Morgan, SSA Dr. Spencer Reid, SSA / Media Liaison Jennifer "JJ" Jareau and Analyst Penelope Garcia. They walked into the busy NYPD in downtown New York City. When they got inside they asked the secretary for Inspector Terri Samson. The secretary showed four of them to her office and the other two to the conference room to set up.
Inspector Terri said to them, “Hi, you must be the BAU. I’m Terri Samson. I’m the chief inspector here, how may I help you?” Then Hotchner said, “I’m the Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, and this is my team. Senior Special agent David Rossi, Special agent / Media Liaison Jennifer Jareau, and Special agent Derek Morgan; Special agent Dr. Spencer Reid; Special agent Emily Prentiss and Analyst Penelope Garcia are setting up in your conference room.” Then Samson says, “Ok well, the victim is Sandy Kytt. She is 19 years old; only missing for 8 hours. Her boyfriend’s name is Peter Manser. Mackenzie Radcliffe is the best friend; she called sandy in missing. The parents are flying in from Virginia, if you want to speak to them.” Hotchner says, “We would like the boyfriend and best friend and parents here for questioning ASAP.” “Ok, well everything else you will need about the case is in the conference room waiting for you. Let me know if you need anything.” She said.
After that conversation two detectives went to interrogate them and got nothing, but a new suspect. A bothersome security guard, named Greg Thomas
Immediately they set up in the conference room and began looking through the evidence as they discussed putting together a profile of the killer. ”JJ" speaks; “The victim’s name is Sandy Kytt. She is 19 years old; she has been missing for 8 hours. She is currently attending NYU for graphic design. Her boyfriend’s name is Peter Manser. Mackenzie Radcliffe is her best friend; they share a dorm together. She was the one who called it in.” She sticks pictures of the victims the on the dry-erase board. Rossi continues, “Now the victims were raped, then the unsub cut both of their wrists and watches them bleed to death.” Reid babbles, “1-3 percent of all rapists and are usually sexual sadists; they delight in the victim's torment and anguish. They often use Ritualistic mutilation and or murder in order to fulfill their fantasy; 85 percent of rapists have a particular class of women he prefers.” Morgan begins “Ok, so Reid, you’re saying this guy has a type?” “Well, yeah.” Reid answers. Then Hotchner says, “When he gets rid of the body, he lays a bushel of hay in her hands and rests them on her chest, it’s his signature. It’s why the news paper calls him the haystack killer.......”
Prentiss then replies, “So... The fact that the victims are dressed in white, and he puts hay in the Vic’s hands must symbolize a union of some sort. I mean look at the Vic’s pictures they are found placed on their backs, with their eyes closed and hay in their hands like …” Hotchner finishes her sentence, “Like a bride… his fantasy is him and his bride to be together.” Rossi asked, “Sandy is his bride…?” “JJ" says, “and He isn’t just gonna let her go free, he’s killed for her.” Then Morgan says, “He’s gonna kill her…. We need to find him fast!” he picks up his phone to call Garcia who is down in the computer lab. “Garcia, babe I need favor…” he said. “Yeah sugar, what do you need?” She answered. “Can you search for any farmlands within 15 miles of here that involve horses?” Morgan asked. “Ok, sweety. I’ll be done in a flash.” she replied. “Thanks.” Morgan ended the call. “JJ" asks Hotchner, “Shouldn’t we notify the police outside, their waiting on the profile?” Hotchner then gives “JJ" the ok to call a conference.
Then a few minutes later they hold a conference with the NYPD to brief them on the profile. Morgan tells the police officers, “He will most likely be a white male, around the ages of 20-35. He probably switches jobs a lot so look for someone who just got a new job in the past month” Prentiss says “This guy is obsessed with Sandy. He will do anything to keep her, and that may well even mean kill her.” Then Reid finishes her sentence. “The Unsub probably lives somewhere near farm land in upstate New York. A farm that most likely deals with horse breeding; since we found horse feces on the hay that were placed in the victims hands.” They finish the profile, and as soon as Hotchner was gonna pick up his phone to call Garcia, his phone rings. He answers his phone. “Hello, um…. Boss, I think I’ve found something,” “Yes, Garcia what did you find?” he asked. “I think I found out where and who he is. It’s a horse farm in Norwich, New York 13815. It’s called Wild Ridge Farm, and guess who it’s owned by.” “Who Garcia? I need a name.” Hotchner demands. “Um…. His name is Greg Thomas the security guard at the school. He has been only employed there for about a month. He has a child hood record of aggressive behavior.” Hotchner then says, “Great job, Garcia.” And hangs up, Garcia then mumbles to herself no problem. As they rushed to get there before he kills her, they were mobbed by a bunch of photographers even some on bikes followed them in their cars.
Back at the farm……….
Sandy abruptly wakes up to the sound of the door opening and shutting, she hears his eerie voice again. “Sandy, wake up its time.” He grabs a needle and a vile of the tranquilizer he uses on his horses. She watches him fill the needle and gets frantic and tries to move through the pain she feels and get lose. “NO, NO!!! Please, Don’t! No!” Sandy screams. He muffles her cries with his hand, and whispers in her ear. “Shhh…….I’m sorry; this has to be this way. Don’t worry we will be together in time, my love.” Then he takes the needle and pinches her arm and injects the tranquilizer in her arm. Her sight gets blurry in seconds and she feels herself drift away. Sandy hears him speak again, but can’t really make it out. Finally she feels peace after hours of torture. Sandy feels home as she takes her last breath.
By the time the B.A.U. gets there Sandy is laid out on the bed, and no longer has a pulse. She has been dead for ten minutes. Greg‘s body was sitting up on the other end of the bed, he had committed suicide. He cut his wrists and bleeds out all over the bed.
When they got back, they let the parents of sandy know what had happened. Peter and Mackenzie comforted each other when they found out the news.
In the newspaper at the end of Sandy’s obituary was the quotation. “Some suicides are never investigated.”