Kafkaesque

Chapter 1

Why am i writing a new story. Idk. but here, take it. Also, if you are triggered by violence, death, and blood, this probably isnt the book for you and you can go read the one chapter i have of mitch grassi's glorious gala, or watch bunnies eat toast. Its cute.

Enjoy.

"Mitchell Michael Coby Grassi."

Mitch glanced up at the policeman, his feet on the hard wooden table they supplied him with. His eyes held nothing that could represent any type of emotion; just cold, dark brown irises that reflected upon his soul. The young adult showed a small, tired quirky smile and then quickly went back to his poker face, his long thin brown bangs hanging in his face. He was dressed fashionably in all black; the only thing shining was his septum piercing. Mitch raised an eyebrow, taking his feet off the table.

"I don't understand how I can help you, Officer Matthews," He stated, his high, clear voice seeming soft, but radiated off the walls in the interrogation room. "I haven't seen my father since he was sent to prison when I was a junior. Mom never let me visit him, and I don't exactly have the desire to do it now." Mathews sighed, then slammed his fists down on the table, not affecting Mitch in anyway, who just cocked his head slightly and looked up at the livid man.

"Don't play games with me, Grassi," He spat, saliva coming out of his mouth and hitting Mitch on his cheek. He pulled a disgusting face and wiped it off gently with a napkin in his handbag, now giving the officer an annoyed glance.

"I'm not playing games with anyone," the brunette stated coldly, crossing his arms. "I have evidence supporting that I never in fact have seen my father in years. Frankly, it's getting annoying.I'm not an idiot; I know about all these murders happening. Why am I being questioned?" His eyes raised up to meet the officers. "My dad wasn't the only serial killer, you know. Everyone is capable of killing someone."

Matthews didn't break eye contact with Mitch. "You know what they say. Like father like son." Mitch let out a scoff at this, uncrossing his arms.

"I'm highly incapable of killing someone," He stated, anger now making a stormy gold in his eyes. "My father is not a man I would want to model myself after and bring to Work Day at school. You seriously think I would go into his area of, for lack of a better word, expertise?" MItch stook up, his five foot ten height seeming six foot three with the power he had in his stance. The officer slightly flinched at Mitch's tone, but didn't back down.

"You're the only one who is just as much as a freak as your father," Matthews snarled, gripping his now shaking meaty fists. "You're the loner. You have no friends. You live alone in that big house at the top of the hill and no one seems to question how you do it. How someone can live like that. I know the truth though. You didn't want people finding out your master plan. So you waited for the right time, after everything about your father has settled down, and you went for the kill!" The officer got louder and louder as he declared his theory. Mitch only yawned though, then slammed his hands on the table, a fire in his eyes now that terrified Matthews.

"Listen here, you low-life worthless piece of meat under my shoe," He said lowly, making direct contact with Matthews. "I have no plan. I'm nothing like my father. Even if that speech were true, I still wouldn't be like my father. He was a man who had no plan. Sporadic killing was more of his cup of tea. Killing at random just to satisfy getting off of the screams of the people he killed that I can still hear in my very dreams." Mith walked slowly to Matthews, getting nose-to-nose with him, Matthews visibly trembling under the bone-crushing power and anger in the younger Grassi's voice.

"So don't tell me I'm like my father again, or I'll poor Xanax down your throat to liquify your insides so you're puking our every single out of your organs so quickly you'll regret everything you just said to me." He turned and stalked away, sitting back at the table the exact moment the door opened. "Officer Matthews?" A deep voice was heard. Matthews turned around and sighed a sigh of utter relief.

"Detective! Am I glad to see you." Kaplan raised his eyebrows, slight annoyance and resignation in his forest green eyes.

"Matthews, what did I say about provoking him? You wouldn't poke a wild bear if you were out in the forest, would you? So don't do it at work as well." Matthews blushed with embarrassment and nodding, looking down at the floor.

"I'll take it away from here. Get out," He ordered cooly and Matthews hauled ass out of the interrogation room. Mitch glanced up at the Detective and smirked softly. "So they decided to send the big dogs in, huh? Didn't know my existence caused so much trouble." He sat up, drumming his fingers on the table as the other man sat down.

"Nice to see you again, Mitch Grassi."

"Fantastic to see you too, Avi Kaplan. I just wish it was over a nice dinner and movie instead of an interrogation room."