Behind the Mask: A Hannigram Fanfiction

5- La Droga

     William waited for a few minutes, laying in the dark and waiting for Hannibal to return. With every second that he didn't, William found himself growing more and more nervous— where had he gone? This couldn't be a run to the restroom. He wasn't hearing any noises from the sitting room, nor the kitchen. Had Hannibal been ashamed of what they'd done? Had there been an emergency that required a doctor?
     Reluctantly, William slipped out from under the covers and picked up his shirt. He didn't bother to button it. He threw on his underwear and pants and began to explore.
     He felt much better than before, but there was still some residual nausea. He hoped that he hadn't caught anything from the party— that would be humiliating. He was already embarrassed enough from a few hours ago. He'd acted like an animal. They both had.
     But it was wonderful. He couldn't deny that.
     "Hannibal?" He cautiously called out, not getting a response. His footsteps were silent in the large mansion, and the thought of exploring all of these rooms was exhausting. He considered waiting until daybreak.
     Then he heard a loud pop, the wood in the house settling. It made him jump out of his skin.
     It had come from somewhere in the hallway he'd been in. He turned back and peeked in through the doors as he went, finding nothing. Some of them let out loud creaks that made him wince, even though he knew the only two people in the house were awake.
     "Hannibal?" It echoed uncomfortably.
     A few doors down from the bedroom, he caught the dancing glare of a lantern resting near the top of the stairs. Yes. This was where he needed to be. He picked it up.
     He descended down the dark stairwell, the stairs creaking. The lantern didn't do much for him, and he was blind down here. He wanted to turn around and run towards the solace of the fireplace, but something kept calling him back. He worried that Hannibal was in trouble.
     "Hannibal."
     He heard a muffled grunt coming from somewhere below him, and he began to run down the stairs. Filled with adrenaline, he swung the lantern left and right to try and see where there was any place the noise could have come from.
     "Hello?"
     Another grunt. He went left.
     Whoever was calling out didn't need William's cues anymore— they kept letting out muffled cries as William approached. William inched forward slowly, the hallway giving way to nothing. He was going to be lost forever.
     His foot landed on something soft, something unlike the cold hardwood. He bent down.
     It was a scrap of cloth. He would know that horrific shade of blue anywhere now.
     He stumbled backwards, wondering what course of action to take. Did this man have Hannibal in his clutches? He was certainly angry and possessive the previous night. William would be a fool to simply turn and run after all of this, right? He'd already made his presence known. He wanted Hannibal.
     He rounded a corner, and the thin hallway opened into a tiny, freezing concrete room. Someone was slumped in the corner, knees pulled up to their chest.
     William raised the lantern and came face to face with the man in the blue coat. The one who had given him his invitation, who'd pulled Hannibal all over the place at the party. His face was pallid, his mouth stuffed with a gag, and his hands were chained to the wall with cuffs. At the sight of William, he thrashed, kicking and screaming behind the gag.
     William, unfazed, was at the man's side in an instant. He yanked the gag out of the man's mouth, and he began to cough uncontrollably. It was loud and racking, and William winced at the thought that this would clearly draw the perpetrator to them.
"Where's Hannibal?" He asked, gripping the man by his shoulders. He couldn't care less about this person; he wanted Hannibal. He wanted to know what was going on.
The man wrenched away from him, disturbing the chains around his wrist. Why was this room even here? What was the reasoning behind—
The man cursed in Italian.
     Something suddenly barreled William in the chest, and he was being yanked backwards. His attacker wrapped a strong arm around his neck, and he pressed a cold rag to William's face. William kicked out, but the moment he heard the attacker's voice his whole body slackened in shock.
"William.." Hannibal muttered, tilting his head to breathe in William's scent. "Oh, William.."
It was the same intonation he had used before, that same sensual drag in his voice. That same rumble in his throat that had aroused William before, but now disgusted him.
"This is unfortunate, William."
William tried to speak against the cloth, but Hannibal had a firm grip on him. He moved a few steps forward, shoving William along the way, and he slowly lowered both of them down to face the man on the floor.
"Pick it up," he told William, stern but not unkind. William obeyed, feeling the damp fabric.
"Now put it in his mouth. Push it in there nice and tight, please. You have to go between his teeth."
William slowly brought the gag to the man's mouth. He kept his lips tight shut at first, but under Hannibal's glare he slowly resolved to open them. William rolled the cloth into a tight knot like it had been earlier, and he worked it in between the man's teeth. The man looked up at him with eyes like fire, hating him for going along with this.
And then, without warning, he bit down, catching William's fingers in his jaws. Pain shot up the tips of his fingers. William cried out, yanking his hand away, and Hannibal narrowed his eyes.
"Did he bite you?" He asked, poison in his voice. William nodded, the cloth scratching against his face. He expected Hannibal to snap at him, scold him for acting so stupid, but instead he did something that sent a chill through William's entire body: he smiled. It was small, but it was there.
"Franklyn." He leaned forward until his face was inches from the man's. "I appreciate you sharing part of your past with me. I never would have known you were raised in the Verger barn, surrounded by all those pigs." He spat the words out like they were rotten.
To William's shock, Hannibal let go of him, his attention turned to Franklyn instead. He knew better than to lash out, though— Hannibal would always catch him. He knew that for sure.
Hannibal moved behind Franklyn and firmly placed his hands on both sides of his head. Franklyn began to scream against the gag, his face turning red, but it was too late. William watched in horror as Hannibal reared back, readied himself, and twisted Franklyn's head with a sickening crack. Franklyn went limp on the floor, never to rebel again.
"There we go," he said, satisfied. "I'm truly sorry about that, William. Disgusting."
William, too stunned to speak, simply knelt there on the ground. Hannibal stared at him, and William was struck with the fact that the fire in his eyes was stronger than it had been before. This wasn't a feisty romance— this was pure, unadulterated obsession. He kept his composure, that cool smile staying on his face, but William could see it in the eyes. His gaze was manic.
Why did he want William, of all people?
"Come with me." Hannibal took both of William's wrists and pinned them together with surprising strength. "Struggle, and it will only get worse, my dear."
He let Hannibal lead them into the hallway, down the corridor, all the way up the stairs and into the living room. It was a slow walk, excruciatingly slow. He didn't object when Hannibal sat him down in the chair by the fireplace. Their half-filled wine glasses were still sitting on the end table, discarded the moment the two brought their lips together...
Drinking wine together, feeling exhausted...I don't feel right. Why do I feel like this? Don't feel right.
You're sick? You're just excited. Sleep here...I'll take care of you. I'll take care of you.
Hannibal knelt on the ground in front of William, making sure he couldn't get up and run.
"What a night we've had." He examined the insides of William's arms, lightly prodding at them.
William looked him in the eyes. "It's going to end with you killing me, isn't it?"
"Rather rash assumption to make. You have good veins," he remarked. William struggled to find an answer, and by the time he saw the flash of the needle in the firelight it was too late. Hannibal had literally hidden it up his sleeve, distracting William while he pulled it out. He plunged it into the crook of William's elbow, and William felt a cold liquid seeping into his blood.
"What did you just do?" He asked, panicked. How could he have been so stupid to not notice?
"Just helping you relax a little. I can't have you running away on me, now, can I?" His voice was so calming, smooth like silk. He gently massaged William's elbow, letting the medicine seep in.
"You..put something. In my wine," William said. Hannibal gave a proud smile.
"I did. Smart of you to notice." He had his hand on William's thigh again. He couldn't deny that it felt good. "I did last night too, in fact. Just enough to make you a little bit tired. Enough to make you want to go home. I couldn't have you in the house when I took poor Franklyn in, could I?"
William thought back to the party, feeling weary and ready to return to his bed. Hannibal telling him to be safe. Whatever Hannibal had given him was starting to take effect, now; his muscles felt so, so heavy. He wasn't going to be able to get up from this chair, let alone run away.
"And tonight..I thought I could get the job done tonight. Finish him off and get back in bed before you even noticed I was gone." He tilted his head. "But you woke up. Why did you wake up, William?"
What is wrong with me?! Why do I feel like this?! I'm going to wake up, and I'm going to ruin it all. What did I do to be this person, to deserve this--
"I..I don't know," he lied. "I wish I hadn't."
Hannibal moved closer, looking up at William with intrigue. "I don't wish to hurt you," he purred. "Not after all this fun we've had."
"None of it was real, was it?" William's lip curled. "You..are a damn good actor, Doctor."
"It's not an act. You interest me. I saw your name in the papers, looking for work, and I was curious about you. Once I saw you..I knew."
Will's stomach dropped.
You don't care for people...neither do I.
     "You're just like me, William."
"No." Will weakly tried to shake his head, but it was impossible now. "I'm not a killer."
     William had given over so much of himself without even realizing it. Hannibal could read him too well— he thought they were just alike. That sameness was enough to draw him in, and Hannibal's interest wasn't a good thing to have. It meant being under his thumb.
His body weighed a thousand pounds. "You're obsessed with me. This isn't right."
Hannibal watched him for a moment, likely deciding what he wanted to say. He eventually opened his mouth to speak, and his voice was tantalizing.
"I have ended hundreds of people," he whispered. "Hundreds."
"You murder them."
"Yes. Usually not in this way— I like to do it naturally. Avoids suspicion."
"Do you kill because you want to, or because you have to?"
Hannibal must have seen something in his eyes, because he suddenly began to stare at William like he was seeing something novel and fascinating. He looked like a child witnessing the world for the first time, his eyes hungry for knowledge and his mouth slightly open. Hannibal was drawn in by something that he had never come across before, and William wasn't sure what exactly that was, but he knew Hannibal loved it. William would look back later and decide that this exact moment was when Hannibal's obsession truly sparked. Before, that was child's play. He would never escape now.
"That's a very intriguing question." He was stroking Will's thigh now, making William feel itchy inside. Even though he'd been drugged last night, he had been perfectly present for the sex. He didn't feel violated— he'd begged for it, told Hannibal about how badly he wanted it. If he offered it now, he couldn't be certain he wouldn't take it. That is, if his body wasn't leaden and numb. "I like to do it. I want to."
"Were you planning on adding me to the list?"
     "Of course not. I invited you because I was curious, and when you came I knew that you were someone who truly understood. I would never dispose of my potential companion."
     "I don't want to be close to you," William rasped.
"I don't think that's true."
William didn't answer.
"I hired you to do a job, after all," he said. "You are going to do it."
"I'm not going to help you kill."
Hannibal laughed. "What do you take me for? No, I don't share my work. You're going to be exactly what I hired you to be, William: a doctor's trainee. Taking care of my patients."
"Are you going to let me go?"
"You are going to stay here. But don't worry; your quarters will be much cozier than Franklyn's were." He smirked. "You'll have the guest room."
Dread ran through William. "No. No, Hannibal, I can't stay here. I can't."
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice."
"No, you don't understand. I'm not..I don't..I just can't. I don't belong here." He couldn't fathom the thought of an...episode in someone else's home. Hannibal wouldn't understand, and God knows what could happen then.
"Of course you do. You're not some peasant, William."
"I have dogs. I can't leave them alone." I want my dogs!
"We'll go tomorrow and let them go. Perhaps one can come here, if you really wish. I suppose it depends on how good you are, though."
"Hannibal, please. I can't."
"I won't accept any more objection about it. You understand that I cannot just let you out and about. Not all by yourself."
"You can lock me in some guest house, I don't care. I just..I can't be here."
"You don't want to share the house with me."
"I just—"
"I'd be more willing to accommodate if you'd give me a little more context."
William thought. "..I have night terrors," he admitted. "I thrash. Scream. I'd be nothing but a nuisance."
This did nothing to change Hannibal's outlook. "I see. Well..I think it's safe to say that you won't be doing any of that tonight." Hannibal took hold of William's wrist and lifted his arm up. When he let go, his arm slumped back down into the chair like the limb of a doll, completely numb and inflexible.
"I'll put you in the guest room," he continued. "We'll figure more of it out tomorrow morning. For now, I'd like you to rest."
William scoffed. "Got a lot in my system that I need to sleep out, hm?"
Hannibal didn't laugh. He was trying to decipher something, judging by his expression.
"Do you know what they call me, William?" He asked. "A monster. A savage with no regard for human life. I'm a murderer, dear. And yet, all this time..you haven't said a thing about that."
The words stunned William into an isolating silence. It was true— he hadn't sprung to the insults, hadn't even thought to consider how horrible this situation really was. He was too focused on saving his own skin, and Hannibal saw that. God, he couldn't make a single move without Hannibal noticing.
He couldn't make a single move now, in general. Luckily for him, Hannibal had experience with motionless bodies; he lifted William from the chair with ease and carried him down the hall to a bedroom right next door to the master. He set William down on the bed and pulled the blanket over him.
"I'll clean your clothes," he assured William, although that was the last of William's worries. After a moment's hesitation, he bent down and planted a kiss on William's forehead.
"Don't ever assume that I don't like you," he murmured in William's ear. "If that was the case, you wouldn't be alive right now."
He stood and walked out of the door, leaving William to do nothing but sleep.