It had been a couple of years since the incident with Hannibal Lecter.

How he had escaped from the madman was a mystery even to Will Graham now, but he tried not to think about it anymore. Now he had a family to look out for in Marathon, Florida; his beautiful wife Molly and her son, Willy.

But even though everything was fine, and he was finally free from Hannibal... He kept seeing a stag in his dreams, and sometimes even out of the corner of his eyes. Sometimes he'd be walking down the street and would see a person who looked like one of the many people who had died because of Dr. Lecter and he would whip around only to see someone who looked nothing like the person they had a moment ago.

Whenever he would tell Molly of this, she would show her concern for him, but he could never tell if it was genuine or not. She probably just thought he was making most of it up, he realized soon enough, even despite the scar on his stomach which had been both created and treated by Hannibal.

Will shook his head. Thinking of Hannibal was never a good thing to do when he was tired. It was late at night now, and he was driving back home after taking a drive to simply clear his mind; obviously, it hadn't exactly worked.

When he finally made it back home, he took a moment just to bask in the glow he felt; it really was a nice house. Soon he stepped out of the car, and upon reaching the front door, he found that it was unlocked.

For a moment, he got a bad vibe, but then he shook it off. Surely Molly had just left the door open. Or had he simply forgotten to lock it on his way out earlier?

"Molly, Willy, I'm home!" He called as he stepped in and closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it. "... Guys?"

There was silence throughout the house, all the lights were off, and he wondered if maybe they had gone to sleep.

"No..." He mumbled to himself. "It's not that late..."

Quietly, he stepped further into the house, when suddenly...

"Raaaah!" A child-like roar from behind the kitchen counter made Will jump a bit, and when he turned, he saw Willy smiling in the dark room.

"Hey, c'mere, you," Will chuckled a bit and hugged his son. "Where's your mom, Willy?"

"Upstairs with that guy."

Will's brain fumbled a little. "... What? Who?"

"The guy that came in earlier. He said he was a friend of yours and told me to wait here for you and scare you."

"Did he tell you his name?"

Willy groaned in thought for a moment as he rubbed his chin. "I don't remember. It was something funny-sounding."

Will was starting to sweat from fear. "Was it... Was it... Hannibal...?"

Willy's face lit up and he nodded.

"Oh God," Will murmured to the floor, "Oh God, he found me... Oh G-... Willy?"

"Yeah, dad?"

"Willy, I need you to go hide, okay? Hide in the pantry, and don't come out until I say so."

Obviously a little bit scared, Willy quietly obeyed.

"Everything's gonna be just fine, Willy, just stay there and stay quiet. I'll be right back, but if I'm not, then run, Willy, okay? If you hear a lot of noise upstairs, run outside and don't stop, okay?"

Willy nodded, and Will carefully shut the pantry door.

Seeing as his gun was upstairs at the moment, Will walked into the kitchen and took a knife instead. He then walked up the creaky stairs as quietly as he could, only to see that the master bedroom door at the end of the hall was open a little. He approached it cautiously, his heart hammering in his chest only for fear of his wife's safety. When he reached the door, he gently pushed it open.

Sitting on the edge of the bed was Hannibal Lecter, who was wearing a bloody plastic full body suit over his clothes. In front of him, lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood, was Molly.

"Hello, Will. Still wearing that rancid aftershave, I see."