Intimate Friends

Six

Translations: Ma voie appartient au diable. Ill est notre redempter \ My soul belongs to the devil, He is our redemption | ma petit - little one

(After the women left)

"Well well, I was wondering when you'd find me, Dr. Lector."

Mason Verger stepped out of the cabin and over to a struggling Hannibal, his face a disfigured mess and his voice akin to gravel being placed in a blender. He looked like a decrepit old man that died and came back to life, the iris of his visible eye a darkened red. Hannibal tried to work through the blinding pain shooting through his leg but found it nearly impossible, especially once Mason spoke again.

"That looks like it hurts, Hannibal. Would you like some help?"

Mason stalked over to him with a menacing chuckle before bringing his foot down onto the bear trap and stepping on it, causing the man to let out a yell through gritted teeth.

"Wh-what exactly do you want, Mason? And why aren't you dead?"

The disfigured man simply shrugged a bit before leaning in close to Hannibal, the smell of him being putrid at best.

"What I want should be obvious Dr., but let me explain. My new life here depends on giving some...gifts to the person that brought me back. You're one of those gifts."

Hannibal listened for a moment before taking the closeness of Mason and using it to land a clean swing on his jaw, causing him to fall back. While Mason was down, Hannibal tried to crawl away only to be grabbed from behind. Before he could turn and land another blow, Mason grabbed his left arm and literally pulled his shoulder out of the socket, getting an agonized cry from Hannibal. Mason then opened the bear trap with relative ease, watching the blood flow from Hannibal's leg for a moment before placing his hand over the leaking wound. His palm began to glow and heat up to the point of extreme pain, the heat more than enough to cauterize the wound so that it would stop bleeding.

"Can't have you dying on us here, Doc. That just wouldn't be fair." Mason said with a horrific smile.

The burning pain of Hannibal's leg was enough for him to pass out, making Mason's voice the last thing he heard. Mason, on the other hand, dragged Hannibal's body towards the lake where the camp kept their boats, all manual except for a motorboat for emergencies. Once the unconscious doctor was placed in the emergency boat, Mason grabbed two oars and began to row the two of them down the Ottawa River, heading east until they reached the St. Lawrence River. Once there, he started the motor and began to head southwest, eyes darting about his surroundings. Roughly 4 hours later the two were still going along the St. Lawrence, near the Canadian/US border portion of the river. About this time, Mason had to change out the fuel tank for the spare kept on the boat, delivering a rough punch to a stirring Hannibal in between to keep him out.

Before long Mason had arrived at Oak Island in Hammond, New York, where he docked the boat and carried Hannibal deep into the woods until he was at a secluded cabin. Tying him to a hook that was attached to the ceiling in the middle of the open living space, the deformed man limped off to grab a bucket and fill it with water only to throw it on Hannibal, stunning him awake. With gasping breaths, he looked around before gritting his teeth as the pain in his leg returned with full force.

"Wh-...where am I? This doesn't look like your cabin so I know we've moved."

"Well well, congrats on that lovely deduction, Sleeping Beauty! No, we're not at my camp because I wouldn't want to kill any of my precious campers."

"Campers? You mean your victims?" Hannibal remarked sarcastically.

Mason snarled before delivering a rough blow to Hannibal's ribs, his strength enough to crack at least two.