Disclaimer: All characters and what-not do not belong to me, only the story, which doesn't technically belong to me either.

A/N: Alrighty, boys and girls. This fiction was requested by Ralyena Starrling, and the entire plot is her idea, so the fabulous idea is hers. I changed a little, but overall it's what she asked. The general format of the story might be hard to latch on to for the first few chapters, as it will be a little jumpy, but if you hold on for the ride, I think you might enjoy it. Well, I hope you enjoy it anyway. It will be slashy, on occasion. There's no particular time-line for this, let's just pretend it's sometime in the future, and hope nothing canon happens to punch my story in the face. Oh, and the title...just...I dunno, I'm no good at titles.

Hear the mellow wedding bells,

Golden bells!

What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!

Through the balmy air of night

How they ring out their delight!

From the molten-golden notes,

All in tune,

What a liquid ditty floats

To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats

On the moon!

Oh, from out the sounding cells

What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!

How it swells!

How it dwells

On the Future! how it tells

Of the rapture that impels

To the swinging and the ringing

Of the bells, bells, bells,

Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,

Bells, bells, bells-

To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!

-Edgar Allan Poe, The Bells

Smooth satin and frail lace, perfectly crafted to wrap around the soft curves of a woman's body. Rough calloused fingers softly brush against the fabric, admiring the tasteful seaming. It's such a hard thing to wait for, inevitable marriage. Giddiness rushes through him as he continues to inspect the dress. He'll be married soon; it's only a matter of time now. He imagines his bride in the dress, the way the fabric will cling to her. Pale skin complimenting the luminescent fabric, her brown hair curled under the shear veil, her full lips curling at the corners in a small smile, even as her large eyes fill with tears of joy. He knows he's not really supposed to see the dress before the wedding, but someone has to make sure it won't get dirty, someone must admire it. Carefully, he recovers the dress with plastic, to keep dust and dirt away from the perfectly white, clean material. He hears his young bride-to-be yell from downstairs, so he shuts the closet door, before turning to go.

"How is she?" Jared asks, his voice still rusty with sleep. He runs his hand through his dark hair, still not used to how short it was now that it was cropped short. One of the medics walked over slowly, a grim expression on her face. There were dark circles under her eyes. No doubt she was also investigating the evidence from the other attacks, and had not been getting much sleep. Being called to a crime scene at two in the morning probably wasn't helping.

"Well, she'll make it. Her face is…just like the others. You'll get to talk to her tomorrow morning probably, but right now, she's too traumatized."

Jared nodded. Just like the others. All three of the other women looked just the same as this women. "Name?" The medic nodded, pursing her lips.

"Janet Rose."

"Okay, I'll go-" Jared was cut-off by the sound of footsteps, crunching through the gravel of the driveway. He turned and saw his partner, Catlin Jones, approaching. The medic nodded before turning to go back to the ambulance.

"Jones, good to see you up."

"Right," she muttered, snapping on gloves as she walked up to him. "What's the victim's name?"

"Janet Rose. She wasn't reported missing."

"Has anyone found her partner yet?"

Jared sighed, shaking his head. "No, I was just about to head up to the bedroom. We'll probably find him, just like the others, bullet in his brain, lying in the bed."

"Assuming he's dead, we've got four bodies now, and four traumatized women." Jones shook her head as they began heading towards the front door.

"Hey, we got a case," JJ said, leaning out of the doorframe. Prentiss got up and gave Morgan a gentle shove as she walked past him sleeping in his chair. He jumped, blinking as he looked around. He gave Reid a sleepy, confused look, and Reid gave a tight-lipped smile in response.

"We have a case."

"Oh, right." Morgan rubbed his eyes and stood, stretching, and then they both made their way into the conference room.

"How'd you get done with those files so fast anyway?" Reid asked as he sat at the table.

"I gave most of them to you," Morgan explained, sitting down between Prentiss and Garcia. Prentiss snorted a laugh, and Garcia smacked him playfully with a case file. Rossi walked in and rolled his eyes at them as he sat at the far end of the table. Everyone quieted and turned serious as Hotch walked in the room, staring down at the case file he held as he walked. JJ started the screen at the front of the room, and four pictures came up. Each featured a young man and woman posing together, smiling brightly at the camera.

"There have been a series of kidnapping/murders in Newark, New Jersey. Carla Anders, Matthew Jacobs, Sarah May, Jason Smith, Shandell Wood, Simon Harris, Janet Rose and Peter McLane." Four new pictures sprung up on the screen in front of the previous pictures, revealing the men, each lying in a crumpled heap, facedown in their own pool of blood on hardwood floors. Hotch flipped through a couple pages in his file, and then looked up. "Jacobs, Smith, Harris and McLane were found in their homes, all in lying in their beds, shot in the head…their partners, Anders, May, Wood and Rose, were abducted. About three days after the woman were abducted-" Four more pictures. Garcia shivered, and looked away quickly. "the women were found alive in their homes, . There was no sexual assault, but all of their faces had been mutilated."

"The unsub killed their fiancés, abducted them, and then took them back to their homes to cut up their faces while they were still alive…" Reid muttered, frowning as he looked at his case file. Hotch nodded. Reid's frown deepened, and he pursed his lips. Hotch seemed to catch his though before he spoke it.

"You're wondering how he got the women back into their homes without getting caught, if the police were expecting them there." Reid looked up and nodded. "The Newark police still aren't sure. McLane was found after Janet Rose. But as for the others, a part of it is that the station lacks the manpower to station police inside every room, and outside. The victims claim that they don't remember being taken to the house, or being mutilated."

"Are there any similarities between the victims?" Morgan asked.

"All of the victims were engaged to be married. All except for Rose and McLane were planning on getting married within a month of the initial murder and abduction. Rose and McLane were planning on getting married next spring."

"Aside from the engagements, were there any other similarities?" Rossi asked.

"All of the woman fit a pretty clear profile. Tall, slim, short brown hair, brown eyes," Reid murmured.

"And the husbands-to-be all had large bank accounts," JJ added.

"What about the girls?" Rossi asked.

"Middle class." JJ answered, sitting down after she turned off the screen. Hotch nodded, and then closed his case file.

"I want to get there as soon as possible. Janet Rose was found about an hour ago, but if the unsub sticks to his time line, he'll kill another man and abduct another woman in less than a week. Garcia, I want you to find anything else on the woman and their marriages that might connect them to each other. Everyone else, wheels up in thirty."

Reid bit lightly on the end of his pen. He shifted, pulling his legs onto the seat, and glanced out the dark window of the jet, doing his best not to yawn. Hotch came over and sat next to him, raising his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Reid, you should try to get some sleep before we get there, that's what everyone else is doing."

"Just reading over the file again," Reid muttered, looking away from the window, rubbing his hand over his eyes. "And you weren't sleeping either," Reid added. Hotch hadn't slept in the past year, not since Haley had died. He put on a good act though, as if he were coping just fine. When they shared a room during cases, Hotch would be awake all night, going over case files, or just pretending to sleep. Reid sometimes stayed up with him, talking about psychiatric journals he'd read, movies that were coming out in theaters that neither of them would get the time to see, and other pointless things.

"I needed to look at some details of the case, and I don't read as fast as you do. Get some sleep, Reid. We need to find the guy doing this before he kidnaps another girl, and you need to be rested if we're going to do that." Hotch put his hand on Reid's shoulder, and stood up. "You still have enough time for a nap before we get to Newark."

"You must be David Rossi, I've heard about you." Jared shook Rossi's hand, giving him a tired smile. Rossi gave a short, but understanding chuckle.

"Indeed I am. You're Jared Stone, the lead detective on the case?"

Jared nodded, his lips thinning slightly in a frown. "Yeah. This is my partner, Catlin Jones," Jared waved a hand at Catlin, who sat at a desk, staring intently at a computer screen. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't know the rest of your team's names." Rossi turned his head over his shoulder to glance at the other members of the team. Hotch was talking to Police Chief, and the others were setting up in a separate corner of the office that had been set aside for them.

"Our unit chief is Aaron Hotchner, over there," Rossi pointed as he gave Jared their names. "That's Jennifer Jareau, the woman trying to inhale that cup of espresso is Emily Prentiss, that's Derek Morgan, and the young man by the white board is Doctor Spencer Reid." Jared nodded as Rossi went over their names, glancing at each one as they were pointed out. Rossi paused to let at least a few of the names sink in before he continued. "I was wondering if Agent Prentiss and I could speak with the last victim, Janet Rose?" Jared blinked, tearing his eyes off of the team.

"Hm? Oh...You can try. She hasn't really been talking. She suffered a lot more physical trauma than the others, from what the medics told me, but she might be awake soon, if you want to try to talk to her."

Rossi nodded, giving a tight smile. "Yes, I think we will. Thank you, Detective." With that, Rossi walked over to Prentiss, and then the two of them left. Hotch had finished talking to the Police Chief, and was pinning up crime scene photos to a bulletin board with Morgan. They nodded in acknowledgment as Prentiss and Rossi left. Jared walked over just as Reid dropped a box of files on his foot. Jared gave a sympathetic laugh and knelt down with Reid to help him pick up the files on the floor. Reid glanced at him before fixing his gaze intently at the files he was grabbing off of the floor. Once they put the box and files onto the table, Jared offered his hand, and Reid shook it nervously.

"Thanks," Reid muttered, opening a file and looking over the photos inside of it.

"No problem, Doctor Reid. I'm Detective Jared Stone by the way. Thank you guys for coming."

"Do you have any possible suspects?" Hotch asked, before Reid could reply. Jared sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"No. We have tons of evidence, including prints, but when we ran them, they did not match anything in the system."

Hotch pursed his lips and nodded. "Morgan, you and JJ stay here and try to find some connection between the women that might have led the unsub to them. Detective Stone, could you take Reid and I to see Peter McLane's body?"

TBC...

Hear the tolling of the bells-

Iron bells!

What a world of solemn thought their melody compels!

In the silence of the night,

How we shiver with affright

At the melancholy menace of their tone!

For every sound that floats

From the rust within their throats

Is a groan.

And the people-ah, the people-

They that dwell up in the steeple,

All alone,

And who tolling, tolling, tolling,

In that muffled monotone,

Feel a glory in so rolling

On the human heart a stone-

They are neither man nor woman-

They are neither brute nor human-

They are Ghouls:

And their king it is who tolls;

And he rolls, rolls, rolls

Rolls

-Edgar Allan Poe, The Bells

A/N: Well, here's chapter one. Please review, tell me what you think of it so far. I shall hopefully get the next chapter up soon. I am currently on break, so I have more time to write.