The Twelve Crime Countdown

Four Calling Birds

(Y/N)'s POV

Sirens of an ambulance shout across the rooftops. Lights flashing on the stone-cold steps leading to the porch. Blood slowly dripped down the first stair.

My breath was visible in the cold night air with each breath I took. With every breath I took was another she couldn't. Her dead eyes stared back at me.

Her skin turned a horrible shade of faint blue. I held onto her like she still had the chance when I needed to let go. She's gone, her husband made sure of that.

I have been here for what must have been hours, knees cold and in pain from kneeling. Seasons could have changed without me knowing it.

I could not keep my eyes away from this. My hands came to interlock on her chest, mocking her heart in glass-crafted hope.

The glass had to shatter at some point. Arms came swiftly pulling me from her.

My bloodied hands reached back out for her. As my feet dragged along their lawn, to the back of an ambulance. I wanted to scream, but my shouts fell deaf to even my own ears.

The front door creaked open to pitch-black darkness. A hand came out first with a phone, and then I saw his face.

His calm demeanor and practiced elegance showed itself to me. Ringing filled the drawn silent scene.

"This for you," A phone appeared over my shoulder from an EMT's hand.

"Yes," my voice weakly rasped out, holding on to the cold plastic.

"I believe she is gone, Mx. (L/N)."  His voice picked up on the other side of the phone like he was just talking about the weather. Glass shattered into tiny pieces.

The atmosphere quickly shifted as I watched him hang up on me.

Quickly rising into a sitting position, I found myself in my tiny home. My bedsheets had been twisted around my legs from my tossing and turning.

My alarm clock beeped in my ears. I cut it off and pulled myself together. The cold floor shocked my feet.

Under the little mail flap in my front door, a small pile of envelopes sat. One caught my eye out of the rest of them, a red-tinted envelope sat on the top of the pile.

I plucked it from the pile and in perfect print it read that it came from Dr. Lecter. The letter came with a wax seal holding it shut.

My butter knife wedged itself under the seal, prying it open. The letter inside had been written solely in cursive.

He had humbly invited me to dinner at his house at five this evening. An address had been neatly scribbled on the bottom of the page before his full name, Hannibal Lecter.

I'll have to find an outfit somewhere in my closet when I get back from work. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and tucked the letter into my laptop bag to remind me.

Smoothing the sides of my outfit for the last time, I gave his door a quick knock. I admired the scenery as I waited. The trees' leaves slowly turn beautiful oranges and reds on the branches.

The door clicked open. "I am glad you can make it." He smiled, catching me off guard.

"Yes, it's so nice of you to have invited, Doctor." I gave a polite nod and smiled. "I hope I'm not late, am I?"

"No, not at all. Please, come inside." He moved aside to let me through, then guided me to his dining room.

The table had an ornate arrangement. With golden candle holders that shined and reflected the things around. A pristine tablecloth lined the rectangular table.

He pulled the seat out for me to sit. "Thank you," I softly spoke, taking my seat.

A knock interrupted the soft piano music. "Are there other guests this evening?" I twisted my head to catch his eye.

"I have invited Will as well. I thought it would be good for us all to form a bond. Pardon me," He took his leave to the other room.

I turned back to face and tapped my fingers on the smooth tablecloth. Muffled voices slowly grew clearer as they came into the room.

Will and Hannibal came around the table into my view. Hannibal went into a separate room to the side, while Will seated himself across from me.

He wore his usual outfit to this occasion and I suppose Hannibal is too with his usual fancy suit.

"Hello, Will," I glanced up to him.

"Hi," he answered. His mouth formed a thin line for a brief second.

"Abigail has woken up a couple of months back, right?" I shifted the silverware on the table. "Is it odd of me to worry about her still?"

A hand holding a plate of food came out in front of my eyes onto the table. I followed the hand up to Hannibal "It is completely normal to feel that way. I, myself have felt responsible for her current state." He rose to his full height once more.

"Have you visited Abigail when she had been in the hospital?" Will added in. "I don't think I ever saw you there.

"I have taken opportunities to go during my breaks at work. Or you have been asleep when I did." I flicked my eyes up to him. "Was the little couch comfortable?"

"It certainly doesn't beat a bed." Air passed audible from his nose. His eyes focused on his plate and taking a bite from the expertly arranged plate.

"I wouldn't doubt, you looked a bit cramped. It is worth it, though." I joined into eating my food too. "She has gotten herself into plenty of trouble on her own with those two men. You know, her father and the farmer. Oh, I forgot his name. Well, he's hardly important to remember the name of. She's safe from the two."

"Do you view her as a surrogate daughter, Mx. (L/N)?" Hannibal took a sip from his wine.
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1012 Words