Agent Grey.

~Is He Actually Serious?!~

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Catching an Unsub... can't be that hard, right? It's not, actually, if you know what you're doing. Which I do. Definitely. 

We had just arrived at the first crime scene, a lady named Dolores Smith had been murdered in her home the previous evening. She had been laying in bed when she was discovered by her daughter and was covered with approximately 52 stab wounds to her chest and genitalia area (thanks Reid). Her clothes, or what little was left of them, had been dumped in a haphazard pile to the right of her body. 

The victim's blood was smeared across her forehead, an odd addition to this psycho's M.O. Upon further analysis, Reid concluded she was murdered between four and five in the morning. Hotch stood over the body as me and Reid inspected the victim and the surrounding area, his steely gaze fixed on me as I gently opened the victims eyelids to confirm what Reid had thought.  "It's strange how the Unsub closed the victim's eyes, yet he inflicted a great amount of rage in the form of 52 stab wounds" Reid judged after a period of silence, standing up and looking at Hotch and me. "Yeah, It's strange...I suppose there's a high chance he knew the victim, especially judging by the overkill.  I mean, it's tiring stabbing someone that many times unless you're harboring a deep amount of resentment towards that person." I replied, removing my gloves. Hotch grunted and strode out of the room, muttering something about having to speak to Detective Millers. 

I shot Reid a questionable glance, is he always like this?  He simply shrugged and carried on inspecting the crime scene. I sighed heavily before I was interrupted by the shrill sound of an incoming call, my phone was vibrating in my pocket and demanding attention. My thumb flicked the green button as I pressed the device to my ear. "This is Agent Grey..." I answered, slowly walking out of the bedroom. "Hiya! Oh, uh, I'm Garcia, we haven't, uh, met yet. I'm basically the reason you guys solve cases! If you have a question, I will have the answer! Okay, anyway, Hotch asked me to check the victim out and see if I can dig up any dirt, and I discovered this... 10 years ago there was a middle aged man found dead in bed at his home, along with a female around the same age. But get this, after some more digging, I found out that the guy was Smith's ex-husband! They went through a messy divorce and they both fought for rights to their son, but the father, Garry Michaels, won full custody of the kid, Thomas. The other woman, Jessica Richard, was his fiance and they had just gotten engaged the day before. And... the kid, Thomas, was found wondering outside the home covered in blood. He didn't speak to anyone about what he saw, and the case eventually turned cold" Garcia rushed out before making an abrupt departure, bye! Right, uh, thanks, I thought. My mind wandered and mulled over multiple possibilities as to what happened, possible motives and suspects. I had a few inclinations as to what I thought happened. 

I looked up after I tucked my phone away, in search of my lovely Unit Chief. I wandered around the house, dodging out the way of multiple crime scene photographers and random official-looking people. I finally located Hotch, in the front yard, his piercing stare fixed on the man in front of him. "Hey, Hotch, can I talk to you for a second?" I asked as I approached the men, crossing my arms across my chest as I came to a halt. "Excuse me, can't you see we're having a conversation here?" The unknown man said. I raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. Bald, old and fat. Probably hates his wife, never speaks to his kids and most likely abuses his power as a doughnut enthusiastic cop. "I beg your pardon?" I sharply asked, staring at the man incredulously. Who on earth does he think he is? "Look, dearie, the men are talkin', kay?" The fat man wheezed, his slug-like face turning away from me to resume his conversation with Hotch. "Anyway, as I was sayin'-" "Excuse me, I wasn't done" I glared, stepping closer to both of them, staring straight at the bald man. "I said, I need to talk to Agent Hotchner." I spoke forcefully, glancing at the man in question. "Who are ya to speak to me like that you little-" Slug-man started before he was cut off by Hotch. Oh, good. He's going to tell this man to stick it where the sun don't shine- "Yes, Agent, we're talking here" Hotch lowly muttered, not sparing me a single glance. 

Is he actually serious? That mother-fucker, I scoffed, my eyes were practically burning holes through his stuck up little head. "Yes sir, my apologies..." I strained, struggling to maintain a suitable expression. I cannot believe him... I swear to God, I will get him back. Attempting to calm myself as I walked away I focused on the case. I knew I had to prove myself, I had to show that I could be better than him. Should't be hard, right?

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~Author's Note~

Hi! I'm sorry this chapter is so short, I've been so busy recently and haven't had the chance to write much. It's currently 12.17 AM on a Saturday so I literally cannot write another word, (apart from the rest of this note). Anyway, please drop a vote or comment and leave feedback so I can attempt to improve the story somewhat. This hasn't been edited yet, so sorry!

Word couunt: 950 words.