[ Between the way the corpse swells and the tease fluttering about the room, Reid's senses are practically screaming at him to find cover and yet his reactions are working so slow that he doesn't quite make it before the proverbial balloon pops, spattering him liberally with blood and tissue. Whether he makes a noise or not is unsettled but there's a moment of still, sticky nausea and it's only the years and years digging through festering crime scenes that keeps him from throwing up everything he's ever eaten.
Hands trembling, he mechanically wipes the milkshake-like cocktail of human remains off himself, dark eyes squinting through the swarm of tease. For a moment he considers calling the cops and perhaps that would be the right thing to do, but it isn't the best. How do you explain this? How do you explain any of this, from how the corpse came into his bed (he's not even sure he'd get away with that scot-free) to what those bugs really are. More people could be endangered in the process and here in the calm shadowland right before panic sets in, while the adrenaline flows heavily in his veins... there's only one thing he can think about doing.
Kill as many tease as he possibly can and clean up the crime scene. ]