You jump out of your car and run through the heavy rain towards the main entrance of the asylum. The guard at the front door admits you into the building. You make your way to Dr. Lecter's cell. "It's an anagram, isn't it? Doctor?" You sit on the corridor floor to one side of Hannibal's TV, which has been stationed so that Dr. Lecter cannot avoid seeing it. You continue speaking, "Hester Moffet... 'The rest of me.' Miss the-rest-of-me... Meaning you rented that place." It's too dark to see Hannibal, he doesn't respond. You try talking again, "You put those... things in there. You paid for it in advance, ten years ago... Why, Dr. Lecter?"
The food carrier suddenly swishes out of the cell, making you jump. In the tray is a clean, folded white towel. You hesitate, then cross over to grab it, grabbing the bars to help you up. Blood rushes to your face at this kind gesture. "Thank you," You say. You sit back down, drying your wet hair with the towel. Hannibal starts speaking, he walks to the bars of the cage. You had blood on your hand from wiping it off your thigh. He takes his finger and wipes the blood off the bars, you stare at him while he slowly licks the blood off his finger. "You taste delightful," he says. A wave of pleasure rushing through you, cheeks flushed red. You cross your legs, trying to hide the fact that you're incredibly turned on right now. Hannibal asks, "Has your leg stopped bleeding?" You touch your thigh, "No, it hasn't." You say to him. Hannibal gives you a smirk, "More," He says.
"What the hell am I doing, I can't be doing this, this is crazy... but I want to," You think to yourself. You look around, your heart jumping out of your chest. You stand up to wipe your blood on the bars but Hannibal reaches and grabs your hand. You gasp and resist, trying to get free from his grip. "Now, now, Y/N, trust me." Hannibal gives you a reassuring smile and you stop fighting. He leans in and licks your fingers, sending chills down your spine. He then proceeds to suck the rest of your blood out. You hear Barney on his way back to the cameras. You pull your arm back and get into a sitting position with your legs crossed again. Your heart is beating out of your chest. Hannibal slowly sits down with you, licking his lips. Once you're both seated he whispers, loud enough so you can hear, "That was delectable, you taste so sweet to me." Hannibal notices your cheeks flush and smirks at you. "Shall we continue, why you actually came." He suggests. " I... um, y-yes." You manage to say.
"Why don't you ask me about Buffalo Bill?" he suggests. "Why? Do you know something about him?" You ask. "I might if I saw his case file. You could get that for me." He says. "Why don't you tell me about 'Miss Moffet?' You wanted me to find him. Or do I have to wait for the lab?" Hannibal sighs. "His real name is Benjamin Raspail. A former patient of mine, whose romantic attachments ran to, shall we say, the exotic? I didn't kill him, merely tucked him away. Very much as I found him, in that ridiculous car, in his own garage, after he missed three appointments. You'd have him under 'missing person,' which, in poor Raspail's case, could hardly be more true."
"If you didn't kill him, then who did?" You ask. "Who can say...? Best thing for him, really. His therapy was going nowhere." He said. "Wouldn't it just have been easier to leave him for the police to find?" You ask. "And have them clomping about in my life? Oh dear, no... At that time I still had certain private amusements of my own." Hannibal pauses. "How did you feel when you saw him, Y/N? May I call you Y/N?"
"Scared, at first. Then... exhilarated." You answer.
"Ahhh... Why?" He looks at you with such investment.
"Because you weren't wasting my time." You say. "Do you have something you use, when you need the courage? Memories, tableaux... Scenes from your early life?" He asks. "I don't know. Next time I'll have to check." You say. "Jack Crawford is helping your career, isn't he? Apparently, he likes you. And you like him, too." He says. "I've... never thought about him in that way." You answer. "Your first lie to me, Y/N, how sad. Tell me, do you think Crawford wants you, sexually? True, he's much older, but, do you think he visualizes... scenarios, exchanges...? Fucking you?" Last night's memories flood in about all the stuff you thought about Hannibal doing.
"He...doesn't interest me, Doctor. And that's something Miggs would ask." You say. "Not anymore." Hannibal says then pauses and continues. "Surely the odd confluence of events hasn't escaped you, Y/N. Crawford dangles you before me. Then I give you a bit of help. Do you think it's because I like to look at you, and imagine all the things I could do to you...?" You squeeze your thighs together even more. "I-I don't know, is it?" You ask, hoping you get the answer you want. "Or doesn't this all begin to suggest to you a kind of... negotiation? There's something Crawford can give me, and I want to trade for it. I even wrote to him, offering my help. But he hates me, so he won't deal directly." He avoided answering you.
Dr. Lecter turns up the rheostat in his cell. As the lights in his cell rise, you notice his cells been stripped bare. His books are gone, drawings, mattress, even his toilet seat. You stand, startled. You face each other again, Hannibal continues. "Punishment, you see. For Miggs. Just like that gospel program. When you leave, they'll turn the volume way up. Chilton does enjoy his pretty torments."
"Who killed Raspail, Doctor...? You know, don't you?" You ask.
"I've been in this cell for eight years, Y/N. I know they will never, ever let me out while I'm alive. What I want is a view. I want a window where I can see a tree, or even water. I want to be in a federal prison, away from Chilton, and I want a view. I'll give good value for it. Crawford could do that for me, but he won't. You persuade him." Hannibal ordered.
"Who killed your patient?" You ask.
"Oh, a very naughty boy. Someone you and Jack Crawford are most anxious to meet." He hinted.
"Buffalo Bill...? Bill killed him, all those years ago...? That's impossible." You say but Hannibal only smiles.
"Who is stalking you right now, Y/N? I wonder, don't you? how many more young women will have to die, before you trade with me...?" He asks. You stare, unsure of how to respond so you just leave it at that. Hannibal looks at you shockingly, surprised you're not fighting to carry on and find out more, but he doesn't stop you from leaving. "Have a good night, Y/N." You don't say anything and start to leave.
(Catherine Martin's POV)
Catherine Martin takes a long toke from a bong pipe. She lays her head on her boyfriend's lap, Cody. They're sprawled on the couch of her well-furnished apartment. The TV is on, with low sound. "This stuff's giving me the munchies. Where's the bag of popcorn?" Catherine asks. "Shit. Left the groceries in the car." Cody starts to stand up to go get them but Catherine pushes him back down, "It's okay, I'll go." She gets up and goes out the front door.
Catherine walks to the car and opens the trunk, she grabs the groceries and straightens, shutting the trunk. Catherine sees, a short distance away, a man, standing at the rear door of a brown panel truck. His forearm is in a cast and sling. He is struggling to hoist an armchair into the truck. Catherine hesitates, then crosses towards the man. "Can I help you with that?" She asks "Would you? Thanks." The man says. "Let's slide it up." He adds. The man climbs inside the truck, ducking under a small hand winch, and grabs the chair. Catherine hesitates again, but climbs in after him. Together, they slide the chair forward, behind the seats. "Are you about a size 14?" The man asks. "What?" Catherine responds. Suddenly, the man clubs Catherine over the back of her head with his cast. Catherine groans, falling unconscious, sliding off the armchair to lie on her stomach.
The man removes his cast and sling then tosses them aside. He hops out of the truck, grabbing his lamp and climbing back inside, pulling the doors shut. The man bends over Catherine's face with the lamp, he hears shallow breathing. "Good," he says. The man peels back the collar of her blouse, reading the size tag. "Size 14. Good." He says again. The man carefully slits Catherine's blouse up the back, with a pair of bandage scissors, peeling apart the two halves. There's no bra strap. The man strokes her bare skin delicately. "Gooood..." he says slyly, then looks around before driving off.
YOU ARE READING
Possession (Hannibal x Reader)(Book One)
Hayran Kurgu🔞🔞🔞 You are working towards being part of the FBI at the University Of Virginia. You get assigned to a case that just opened up by Jack Crawford, you were put in charge of talking to and interviewing the famous.... Hannibal Lecter to get answers...
