Cannibal's kiss (( Hannibal X OOC))

Something's Wrong

              When Hope re-awoke it was in a strangers bed, the covers pulled to tuck neatly under her chin and room barren of any light. Reaching blindly to the table beside her, she felt her limbs were oddly limp and heavy. A strange lightness to her mind that when light finally flooded in caused a sudden blurriness that distorted furniture and paintings along the walls and made it seem as if each motion was occurring lazily. Whether that be the heaviness that sat on her arms or the exhaustion tugging at her fluttering lids, she didn't know. She took a fruitful glance to gather her surroundings and taking in very little. 

             On the dresser was an image in a golden frame engraved with.. vines? Shrubbery of some kind and leaves curving outwards on every corner each vein painstakingly carved in a work shop. There appeared to be a smiling couple behind the glass wearing white tennis clothes but their faces blurred and shifted features. A smile stretching wide or head bloating before retracting into regular view, it was as if the image itself was placed underwater. She tore her eyes away to avoid a migraine and focused on the bedside table where a gold badge rested in plain view. Hope reached out with tentative fingers and grasped the metal with a touch of her finger tips. The chill bringing an awareness that was almost drowned out by the distortion  of her mind. In that moment of clarity a name swam into view in curved blue letters towards the bottom of the shield. 'Krepner'. That was Clarice's boss, a womanizing asshole who had attempting to bed both of them and threw a tantrum upon being refused. If his badge rested against the oak side table it would suggest this was his bed and his home. A bile rose to her throat at the thought of embracing him as a lover, what a foul notion. Though she didn't feel sore.. just strange. A haziness had settled in like a rolling mist causing actions or thoughts to become considerably more difficult, but not impossible. 

             With a grunt of effort Hope swung her legs over the side of the bed and shivered as the tips of her toes touched the bare wood floor. Rolling down from the toes to the heels in a cautious motion as if afraid the ground itself was lava and than pushing to a standing position. Instantly a cold registered against her exposed thighs and she glanced down to see instead of a pair of shorts she was now adorned in a flowing white gown. Floor length with a layer of lace that extended from the hip towards the ground over the initial layer of silk fabric. A thick strap but no back pieces just two front strips connecting to a belt around the hip covering her breasts and a slit cut down the middle to expose the curvature of her bosom but not a considerable amount. It was attractive in all means and appealing but revealing at the same time. This was not what she had worn to bed. Pulling at the ends of the dress she saw her once hastily wrapped thigh injury had been reapplied with a thin surgical patch. Removing it exposed someone had went in and stitched the wound closed with a doctor's precision. Clean and meticulous there wasn't an open part to the wound or a splatter of drying crimson blood. Whoever had done it, took incredible caution. 

              Her mind yearned for information but each thought struggled through the mist and eventually it became too much, an exhaustion had set in that weakened her knees and she fell in a heap on the floor. Something was terribly wrong. But what? Hope couldn't seem to grasp a coherent understanding of the situation. Everything around her felt exhausting and all her senses seemed dull. Scents brought no thoughts to mind and sight seemed unreliable at best. She lied to the floor and pressed her cheek to the chilly wood hearing the door open and someone speak. A deep voice that rumbled the depths of her thoughts but she couldn't place who it was. She was as hopeless as a newborn and lied in his arms like a porcelain doll. Feeling strong hands place her gently underneath the parted covers and tuck her back in. A departing mumble to stay put and than the door closed with a squeal. Hope turned against the pillows feeling the stitches in her head that brought back the blurry haze of a memory.