InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "One In A Million Chance."

Dr. Spencer Reid (awkwardgenius) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-10-24 13:45:00

Entry tags:

active, day 28, experiment, location: bunker, spencer reid

Day 28 - The Bunker
Who: Spencer Reid, and anyone else who is trapped in the bunker.
What: The captives wake up.
Where: Possibly the carnival; undisclosed location.
When: Day twenty eight, time unknown.
Rating: PG-13, may change.
Status: Incomplete; group post; no real posting order. Feel free to start mini-threads between characters if that's easier than everyone chatting together!

His head ached.

It almost felt like he had overslept; his body was tense, his mind was throbbing, and his throat felt like there was something stuck in it. He rolled to the side, the ground hard and cold beneath his face and hands. A low groan pitched from the back of his mouth, echoing loudly around the room. The sound confused him as his brain began to awaken and sharpen, and he lifted his head wearily, looking around.

As his sleep-clouded eyes started to focus, he became aware of his surroundings, his mind taking it all in within a few seconds. He was in some kind of bunker, walls built from what appeared to be steel or some other kind of very strong metal compound, judging from the grain and shine. There was a single door to his left, multiple bolts and locks strapped across the opening, yet there was no handle or knob on the inside. There were shelves against the far wall with food and bottled water stacked neatly atop. Hung on the perpendicular wall to this was a dry wipe board with an eraser and pens on the lip beneath. The board was huge and looked clean, brand new. Next to this was a shelf with what looked like notepads and pens, and a large thick book Reid immediately recognized as a DSM-IV (mostly because it was identical to the one he had tucked away in his desk drawer back at Quantico).

Reid's thin body felt heavy, but he forced his stiff joints to cooperate with him, easing himself up into a crouched position, and then to his feet. His body was untrustworthy and weak as he stood, looking around himself in both surprise and horror. There were other bodies, all alive but unconscious, sprawled around him on the floor, all men with the exception of two women. His eyes ran across the floor to the wall, and his mouth dropped open. A series of monitors, TV screens, were cut into the wall, all blank and switched off.

He reached up shakily and ran a hand through his hair, scratching at the back of his head, before moving forward toward the door and running his hands over the bolts, hinges and rim. The seal of the door was tight, and it couldn't be pushed or pried by his thin fingers. He was trapped, and so were all of these people with him.

He paused for a moment and leaned his head against the door, his heart pounding in his chest at a mile a minute. He swallowed shakily and tried to control his thoughts, tried to keep his mind from panicking, because he was about ready to break down. Experiments. The word repeated itself over and over in his head, both on the paper of his journal and in Connor, Kimberly and the Cajun man's voice.

No, no. He had to focus. He had to stay calm. If there was some kind of human experiment about to occur around him, there was no doubt that there were overseers, and that, as sadists, they would thrive on reactions of fear, panic, shock, confusion and desperation. He turned back to the TV screens cut into the back wall, teeth grazing his lip with uncertainty and fear. He had a feeling that, if someone had taken the time to insert screens into the wall, they weren't going to remain blank forever.

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awkwardgenius
2009-10-26 03:40 am UTC (link)

Finally, the 'cool dude' showed some emotion - anger. Reid glanced up at him, frowning almost sadly, before looking back down at the book and flicking through the pages, eyes skimming over each one though he could pretty much quote it from cover to cover.

"Well, it's not- it's not 'bogus', it's just not politically correct to refer to it as a mental disorder anymore." He actually sounded a little offended, before sighing and continuing. "There are two types of criminally insane disorder, or psychopathy," he stated with a confidence that portrayed just how knowledgable about the subject he was, not looking up as he ran his eyes across every page. "Cognitive insanity, and volitional insanity. Cognitive is where the patient is unable to decipher the difference between right and wrong, and volitional is where he is aware, but is unable to resist doing the wrong thing regardless, which is why it's also called the 'irresistable impulse'. The latter sounds the most feasible given the circumstances. These people are most probably completely aware that torturing and killing other human beings is wrong, but they do it anyway under the guise of 'experiments'. I'm willing to hazard a guess that they believe what they're doing is justified to gain the necessary results."

He looked up at everyone else in the room, suddenly a little self conscious as to whether they were listening in (he'd never coped well with public speaking before, except for with the team), before glancing at Ted. Right. Small words. "They're- they know what they're doing is bad, but because they're doing it to experiment on us, to find out about human behaviour and how we react to things, they think they're not doing anything wrong. Almost like killing animals for food - we forget that it's murder because it's for nutritional purposes. So it's jusitifed. When psychopaths do things even though they know it's bad, sometimes because they're unable to resist or because they feel they have to, it's their mission or their fate - that's called volitional insanity."

He flipped the book open to a page and placed a finger on the paper. "Dr. Robert Hare found a number of factors in psychopaths - a, a checklist - and I think some of them may apply to the people who run this place. Uh, a grandiose sense of self worth, lack of remorse or guilt, lack of empathy, cunning, callouseness, impulsivity..."

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wyld_stallyn
2009-10-30 02:17 am UTC (link)

Ted listened, staring at the good doctor curiously. It was like he was genuinely trying to follow along, which he totally was! But the pieces weren't fitting all together properly. Mostly because he had no clue what the good doctor was talking about.

Wait! Irresistible impulses! He remembered that. "Freud totally called it the id!" Except, when he meant Freud, he said Frood. Sigmund Frood. "They like totally come from your subconscious and stuff!" Ted looked so happy, understanding what was going on. But then he was listening again and the smile took a downturn once more.

"So how do you like..totally put these guys away in jail?"

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awkwardgenius
2009-10-30 02:53 am UTC (link)

Frood? Reid squinted, frowning a little. Oh, Freud, Freud! He nodded slowly. "Yes, yes... well, Freud actually separated the human psyche into three parts of apparatus - id, ego and super-ego. The id is what refers to the uncoordinated, instinctual trends. Freud defined it as, 'The dark, inaccessible part of our personality, what little we know of it we have learnt from our study of the dream-work and of the construction of neurotic symptoms, and most of this is of a negative character and can be described only as a contrast to the ego.'"

Reid was pleasantly surprised that the kid knew about Freud. And the id. That was surprising. At the question though, he frowned again, debating his answer.

"We-well," he started, motioning with his hands, "first we, uh, visit the crime scenes and we try to get an idea of victimology and criminology, to profile both the victims and the perpetrators. Then, we build our investigation off of that." He looked up and offered a nervous half-laugh. "Un-unless you mean how to we, literally, put them away in jail, in which case we, uh, we put handcuffs on them, sit them in a police vehicle and drive them."

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