Will Graham is dragged back into the force by the firm hand of Jack Crawford.
While The Dragon hunts in the shadows, waiting for the next moon.
Hannibal Lecter abides patiently within the walls of his cell to begin the games once more with the cro...
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Hannibal's lips quirked, sly and cruel, dark maroon eyes peered back at Alana. The woman smoothed at the creases on her skirt as she frowned, a bitter thing, twisted and torn, he could almost taste the blood beneath her lips, along with the stilling scent of cherry-caked lipstick. He'd licked it once too, amidst the dark, unravelling halls of his home as he hungered. It had never been enough. His fingers twitched, locked and bound in heavy, clinkling metal. Her blood, her life, her soul was his.
He would have his pound of her flesh in time. Hannibal was a patient man.
"Have you come to wag your finger?" He smirked, a drawling, callous thing that crept across blood-red lips.
"I love a good finger-wagging."
"Yes, you do. How is Margot? You almost taste afraid, Alana," he purred. "Your quite safe from me. You've guaranteed it, haven't you? The cell won't contain me forever."
Alana snorted. "You'll spend the rest of your days in here, I'll see to it. Don't you worry."
Her fingers caressed the edges of the papers, tucked away and concealed in the dark leather bound books. There was one of her; robed in white, her dark inky-locks decorated with pale blue flowers. Alana's lips trembled as she found the ones of Will, of sharp-angled cheekbones, and full, pink lips. It was almost salacious, unfit for her eyes. Hannibal certainly seemed to think so, eerily red eyes glaring at her through the glass.
"Your cogs are turning, Hannibal. I can hear them clicking."
"Click, click, click, boom."
"I don't know what you're planning with Will Graham. But you're planning something. Why wouldn't you be? You've already cracked the lid, you can't resist peeling it back."
Hannibal's lips twitched, a fierce smile, revealing a wide mouthful of pale sharp teeth. To Alana, Hannibal had never looked more dangerous, even bound in chains. Vampiric.
"Will came to me," he said smugly, his head titling to the side as he stared. Bright and unnerving. "He will always come back, it terrifies you, doesn't it?"
"Yes, he did." It was hissed, torn from her pursed lips. "I won't allow him to come closer, I'm no fool. I won't make the same mistake. Not again."
"Hmm," he hummed. "I advised him against it."
"I'm sure."
"Are you suggesting I don't have Will's best interests in mind?"
Alana smiled, sharp and fierce.
"I'm stating it as a fact. You never desired Will's best interests," she spat. "I doubt you've started now."
"You've got Will dressed up in moral dignity pants, nothing is his fault."
Alana shifted closer, her shadows echoing across the floor, elegant and brutal as her. Twisted and deformed, a mere reflection of the sweet young-thing she'd once been.
