FOUND: A Hannigram Devil AU

18

     The first thing Will noticed was Beverly Katz, who stood in front of the bodies with a camera in hand. Will kept his gaze on her, letting the grotesque scene around him blur. She spun on her heel at the sound of the door and smirked.
     "Will, hey," she said, nodding. "I'll get out of your hair."
     "Thanks, Bev."
     "Things to know: he vomited on the nightstand." Katz tilted her head towards the side of the bed. Will tried as hard as he could to not look away from her; he didn't want to absorb the scene just yet. "We found hairs and sweat in the bed, so he slept in it. For a long time, it seems."
     "So this was probably as recent as last night?"
     "Definitely. The composition of the angels is too clean."
     "The.." Will finally stepped back to take a peek and immediately had to look away. He registered the sound of Katz and Hannibal having a conversation, but the words melted into each other, drowned out by a loud ringing.
     Two bodies, one male and one female, were kneeling at the foot of the bed with their hands folded in prayer. The skin on their backs had been flayed, split down the middle and lifted to look like angel wings. A thin string, some kind of fishing lure or cable, attached to the ceiling to hold the skin and hands in place. Will stared at the gore under the wings, muscle and blood and the horrid view of their spines. Never before had he seen something like this.
     Shaking, he stepped forward. The door closed behind him, and the room was silent, but he knew Hannibal had chosen to stay. There was a weighty presence, a dark shadow over his shoulders.
     He closed his eyes.
     Once he opened them, he witnessed the room around him change; the light coming from the window darkened, time turning back to a twilight hour. Will's head pounded as he paced around the bodies. Their heads suddenly burst into flame, the fire turning the room orange like a chamber in Hell. Will watched the flames dance.
     I see all of your sin congregated here.
     He placed his hand over the fire. It didn't scald him; rather, it bent to his will, burning out once his hand touched it. A soft, heavenly light filled the room. He smiled.
     You were doomed, but I have saved you. I've erased your imperfections. I allow you to become angels, and you are pure again.
     Slowly, he climbed onto the bed, gazing at his creations with pride. Their eyes were closed, faces blank in an expression of serenity.
     All I ask is that you pray over me. He turned his head to look at the vomit on the nightstand. Pray for my salvation. Cure me of my ailments. Please, please, please.
     When he turned back, he became aware of a dark figure standing in the corner of the room. It took up the whole height of the motel room, thick antlers stretching up to the very top of the ceiling. It took a step forward once it noticed Will staring, and as it approached it unfolded its black wings. Will's heart fell to his stomach, and he quickly sat up in the bed.
     His angels, his beautiful creations, fell away. It was just him and the creature, staring each other down. Its pale head began to kindle, flames creeping up the skin until it reached the top.
     He'd noticed sin in his angels, but it was humane sin. Something he could fix. This was something different; he watched with horror as the sins of billions flashed before his eyes. He felt them pouring into his brain, stuffing him full until he felt like his head was going to burst. He doubled over in agonizing pain.
     I've saved them! I'm not evil, I'm a savior. Make it stop, make it stop. Stop!
     The creature didn't listen. Murder and trickery and injustice and torture and pain, so much pain. The Devil disguised as a man, deceiving and slaughtering and..cannibalizing.
He was eating them.
He heard the screams of the damned, begging him for the salvation that he gave his angels. He was only one man! He couldn't help all of them.
     Will's voice joined the chorus. He opened his mouth and let out a tumultuous cry, one that he felt throughout his entire body. The world suddenly came rushing back to him in a staggering flood, the creature vanishing into the flames. Everything was too bright, too loud, too itchy and painful on his skin.
     The door burst open, strangers rushing into the room. He didn't know who they were; he wasn't even sure who he was. He was an Angel Maker, but that was all he could remember.
     He turned to look at a man standing right where the creature had been, rather unassuming and blending into the rest of the crowd. Once he caught a glimpse of the man's eyes, however, he cried out again. He scrambled backwards, running into the headboard.
     "Will? What the hell are you doing?" A man with a deep voice walked over to him, confusion written on his face.
     Who was Will? That couldn't be his name. It didn't sound right.
     "What's the matter?"
     "Is he okay?"
     "Get him away from me!" He lunged forward, pointing straight at the Devil. "He's evil! The Devil lives inside of him!"
     "Will, what are you talking about?!"
     "Stop calling me that! I saved them from their sin," he pointed to his angels, "but the Devil is right there! Get him away, get him away!" He gritted his teeth, head aching, hot tears beginning to run down his face. The Devil took a tentative step forward, to which he shrieked.
     "No! Don't come any closer! Stay away from me!" He tried to fling himself off of the bed, but the other man and a few police officers grabbed him by the arms. He struggled, kicking and trying to yank himself from their grip, but they were too strong.
     The man with the deep voice was clearly horrified. He turned towards the Devil.
     "No! Stop! Don't look him in the eyes!"
     The man did anyway, whispering to him. The Devil responded, appearing to be worried.
     "He's controlling you. He's going to kill us all!"
     Somebody, he wasn't sure who, slapped him hard across the cheek. That just made him angrier, and he screamed until he felt his throat would give out.
     Then a sharp pain in his upper arm. A woman with a syringe stepped back, her forehead creased in concern. Her kind look made him feel slightly better. Or maybe it was the sedative..
"Bev?"
     "It's okay, Will," she said. "We'll help you. It's okay."
     Dizziness overtook him. Will. He was.. that's who he was. They were right. He was wrong.
     "I'm Will," he whispered to himself, although apparently not quietly enough. Someone in the room encouraged him. "Jack?"
     Jack placed a hand on his arm. "Yeah. We're gonna get you some help, okay? You just..just get some rest." His voice shook for probably the first time since Will had known him. Will felt weak, his legs no longer sturdy enough to hold him upright. He found the strength to lift his head.
     Hannibal stood in the corner, expressionless. Will caught his gaze.
     You're eating them, Will thought, trying hard to convey the message without actually speaking. You're eating the people you kill, aren't you?
     Hannibal nodded. Will's eyes widened, and as he blinked he felt more tears begin to fall.
     "No, Jack, wait..wait..Hannibal.."
     Before he could say anything else, Will's head lolled forward, chin resting on his chest. He fell limp and let his heavy eyes close.