[ Written by amsmalice ]
“Goodnight,” Hannibal’s pruned finger slithered down his misted phone screen, caressing Will’s cheek from behind the cracked glass. Don’t worry, it was just his screen protector. It was his sixth this month.
“I love you,” Will said, tucking his duvet underneath his chin. His buildabear remained firmly by his side, a gift that Hannibal had gifted Will last Christmas via the postal service.
“And I, you, William.” Hannibal pressed the big END CALL button at the bottom of his screen. Despite its largeness, Hannibal struggled to see it without his jam-jar glasses. The silence that followed was loud. Or maybe that was just his bad hearing. He glanced at his hands, wrinkled and veiny. “I don’t have long left,” Hannibal thought, observing as the decaying skin slowly withered away from his knobbly knuckles. “I need to see Will whilst I still have time.”
Booking a flight to the States was hard. Impossible, even. Hannibal had never touched a computer before, he didn’t trust this modern technology. Back in his day, people boarded a boat to visit their loved ones overseas. So that is what he did.
The following morning, Hannibal rose from his coffin. Arms crossed over his torso, he took a moment to reflect on his goals for the day, and to complete his daily affirmations. “You are strong. You are beautiful. You are loved.”
He clambered out of bed, reaching for the cane at his bedside. Slipping on his Birkenstock sandals. (they helped his feet breathe, he found) Hannibal flip-flopped down the hall, racing to consume a bowl of shredded wheat before his trip to America.
He took one final look at his gothic tower before he departed. The dismembered limbs hanging from the ceiling were a beautiful display, looking more and more scrumptious by the minute. He had already packed a finger to snack on at the docks, and felt that any more body parts may give his secret hobby away. He closed the door.
