Dancing with Danger

Ch 9: Metamorphosis

-Regular P.O.V-

Samantha was escorted out at the session's end and given her usual "until tomorrow", yet something was off. Dr. Lecter seemed...different, oddly different. He seemed so different that Samantha's paranoid mind raised suspicions. Samantha Lucille Amaranth thought of every possible case scenario and carefully sorted through the possible and the impossible.

-Samantha's P.O.V-

'Well, he could be dealing with something at home. Maybe his wife is mad at him or something. Maybe he's stressed here at work. That could be it. Maybe he's hiding something. Like a really big secret or a massive lie he told. Or both. Maybe his whole public life is a façade. Maybe he's actually a serial killer who keeps his victims' severed heads in a box. No, Samantha. That's impossible. You're exaggerating this. He probably just had a bad day. They happen to everyone.' She thought so much that she had realized she had been standing in front of her cell door for two full minutes.

"So sorry." She apologized to the nurse as she shook her head, moving into the room. "Did anything happen today, Samantha?" The nurse asked. "No ma'am." She replied smiling. "Good." The nurse replied as she shut the door. Samantha turned on the little radio they had allowed her to keep. It took a lot to get the staff to agree. She had to beg and plead, as if that radio was her entire life, but it worked. Samantha adjusted the knobs until the radio sounded like an old talk show. Static sounds with a man talking in the background. She smiled, sitting there listening. It reminded her of the sounds she used to hear at home when she was all alone in her room. It wasn't all the time, but only when the girl's mind had gone completely silent. She enjoyed it rather than loathed it, as most people would. It reminded her of stories she had heard about The Slenderman, a tall man who lurked in the forests and ate children. (A/N: Yes, I'm a Creepypasta fan). She laughed at those stories and loved to hear them. Samantha stared at the radio intensely and waited until she had to do her daily social activities.

~time skip~

It was the next evening and time for Samantha's session with Dr. Hannibal Lecter. She had been thinking about the change she saw in him all day. She had not entirely disposed of the mindless wondering she did after her session the previous day. He had acted so differently. He wasn't as hollow, yet at the same time he was even more hollow than before. Eyes so cold, yet voice so warm. 'How could this be?' She wondered as the nurse led her to Dr. Lecter's office. The nurse left her a bit early this time, so Samantha was alone with him a few moments earlier than she was used to. Samantha gathered the courage.

"Dr. Lecter? May I come in? It's Samantha.." She asked, lightly knocking on the door. From inside came some shuffling of some sort. Almost as if something mildly heavy was being moved. 'I told you he was a serial killer!' Samantha argued with herself again. 'Dammit Sam. Stop jumping to stupid conclusions!' Samantha sighed as she heard silence and then "Come in." Samantha opened the door and Dr. Lecter was standing up, there to welcome her again. "Excuse my hesitation. I was moving a few things around." He said smiling. 'Serial killer...' Samantha's subconscious repeated itself a lot. Samantha blinked rapidly, forming a simple response. "Oh, it's alright." She said after a few seconds, trying to smile a bit herself. Couldn't hurt....much. Samantha took her usual seat, as did Dr. Lecter. She shifted a bit in her seat in nervousness and a bit of the uncomfortable 'wearing-a-straitjacket feeling'. "How are you this evening?" He asked, running his thumb along his pen. 'Got any heads in boxes?' 'Oh shut up!' Samantha argued with herself. "Not well." She admitted. "How are you?" Dr. Lecter frowned slightly. "I am quite alright, but this is about you, not me. What's the matter?" He asked, leaning forward a bit. "I'm quite anxious. Someone who I am usually around is behaving differently than usual." She replied, hoping he didn't realize that someone was him. "What do you mean by different? Is this person perhaps in a bad mood or are you genuinely suspicious that some change has taken place?" He asked. Samantha proceeded cautiously. "They're always so kind to me, but also very stone cold. It's as if they have to hide how they feel, but act like a normal person. Normal is just a setting on a washing machine. Recently there has been some trouble regarding our interactions and I'm worried I ruined things." She said, eyes suddenly on his clipboard. She stared and stared until she noticed it.

Dried blood under his fingernails.

'S-e-r-i-a-l  k-i-l-l-e-r' her mind whispered. Samantha's eyes widened and she flicked her head up to Dr. Lecter's face. His eyes remained cold, his mouth set in its resting position. "It's metamorphosis, my dear." He said as he leaned forward and extended his hand to her face.

(Enter Sandman by Metallica)