Palatial Intimacy

XXVI- The Heart

April 28, 2030

I fear that I've become too careless. I feel their eyes honing in on me, and I need to do something about it. If they're going to find me, I might as well make things difficult for them.

I invite Frederick Chilton over for dinner. He knows little of my deception. I would say he knows nothing, but I suspect that there's a part of him that knows what I truly am. I am not yet sure if he's accepting it.

I fix him a grand, beautiful meal, as is typical. I get a feel for what he knows, and I decide it's too much. I wait until the next day, and I follow him home from his workplace, trailing two cars behind until I witness him pull into a neighborhood. I don't follow him in there until I'm sure he won't notice me.

I watch him pull into a driveway, and then I wait at the end of the neighborhood until the sun sets. I then make the trek to his backyard and hide among the trees.

He goes out to get the mail, and I slip in the front door when he's halfway down the driveway. I silently slip into the guest room — the room that appears the least lived in, the shiniest — and hide in the closet.

Frederick returns. I slip a mask over my head; I don't want him to see my face. Once I hear him doing dishes in the kitchen, I creep out there and break into a run before he can turn around. I have mastered the art of knocking someone unconscious. I am a tightrope walker, suspended hundreds of feet in the air between making them faint and killing them, and I am always doing wonderfully.

I splash water from the kitchen sink onto the floor, and then I push back the sleeves of his jacket. I retrieve the clothes I brought, the ones I'm going to give to Miriam Lass to change into, and I rub them vigorously across Frederick's arms. The skin cells settle in much better that way.

Frederick has a small cut on his head. I spread some of the blood onto the edge of the counter, completing the facade that he's fallen, and then I seal the deal by smearing a minuscule amount on Miriam's new clothes. Quickly, I scan for any evidence of me being there, and when I find none I leave out the garage door as fast as possible. No one will ever know I was there, and I have the evidence I need.

I take the bag of product and shove it into the extra freezer in Frederick's garage. Everything in there is covered in ice crystals, untouched for a long while — it's a perfect place to hide the meat. They will find it before he has the chance to. 

I take note of the brand of his tires on the way out. Come tomorrow, I'll have the same ones.

It is foolproof. It is genius. It is calculated. This is my design.

———

"Do you feel ready?"

Hannibal kept his hand lingering on the front door knob, eyeing Will with concern. Will looked down at the messy duffel bag. He'd sneaked into his own house the previous day, while Molly was at work, and put together a haphazard suitcase to make it look like he'd been at the cabin for a week. He needed to keep up the image.

"I don't know," he said. "Do you?"

"I'm not the one stepping into the line of fire."

Will gazed out the window and frowned at the rising sun. He was expected back at work in two hours. He was expected home any minute now.

"You're going to be alright," Hannibal said. "Close your eyes, and I'll be there. That's all it takes now."

"I don't know if I'm going to be able to act naturally. Not after all of this. And God knows how Molly will act." He rubbed his forehead. "She'll probably lose her shit."