Hi! This is just a small snippet of a fix I've been writing and thinking about posting. I'm just looking for feedback regarding whether or not people will be interesting in reading it. I'm still working on it and plan to be for awhile so it will be posted in chapters as I go along. This is only the beginning. Future gore, murder, and mature themes will take place, so the rating will be changed.
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"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you in this life."
His words cut through her ears like blades. 'He's going to kill me.' Abigail thought to herself, staring into the deep circles of darkness that were gazing right back at her.
"Please..." She had to pause in attempt to regain her voice. "Please don't do this, not to me."
It was as if something in her had snapped. Had Abigail contemplated suicide? Of course. All of these girls were dead. Didn't she deserve to die? And at her own hand? For a short period of time, it was the only fate that Abigail deemed reasonable, just, fit. Albeit, the more she thought about it, the more she was pushed to turn against the idea. 'You deserve to live with this. This burden. The secret. Don't you fucking dare end yourself. You lived for a reason, you were saved for a reason. This torture is your fate.'
These were her own thoughts, but she didn't hear them in her own voice. The voices belonged to those of the girls she'd helped murder. Each voice would invade her mind at different times, telling her what to do - how to feel - reminding her of what she was capable of. It was like they were egging her on, they wanted her to be was she was capable of being. It was just as bad, almost worse than dying.
Abigail didn't want to die, though. It'd been days since she last thought about dioxide. This... burden was becoming... easier to live with? As inhumane as it sounded. It was almost natural, like picking back up on an old habit. Despite that, she still had nightmares that would haunt her in the late hours of the night, the unwelcome hallucinations and voices, but these weren't new. They had just returned to her for new reasons. Almost like old friends. This time, things were different. Abigail couldn't explain.
At the same time, she was realizing who- no, what Hannibal was. He set her up to kill Nicholas Boyle, he knew exactly what was going to happen. Hannibal was always there. He'd been stringing her along this whole time, from the beginning, all of them. They were his puppets; their thoughts and actions hanging low on the strings that were tied to his fingers. With a flick of the wrist, he could make anything happen - whatever he wanted to.
He was running this show, this... theatrical performance. They were only in the first act, his story was far from over.
While thoughts ran wild through Abigail's mind, Hannibal continued to brush his thumb along her cheek, taking in her look of disgust and horror. She knew. She had just told him, preached to the choir. Of course, she wasn't the first one to catch on - to figure him out. However, Dr. Lecter knew she was smart enough to infer what happened to those that did wise up.
Although in a way, this was somewhat different. Abigail wasn't like the others; unlike Miriam, or Will, Jack, the rest. She helped kill before. She was an accessory, a smart one at that - and before she even knew who any of them were, and prior to these events. The teenager had gone against her own conscience in need to make her father proud. Hannibal realized why she was such a golden ticket, Abigail was much more complex than he'd thought. He himself, much like many others, had underestimated her. - The others had killed, sure. Just out of good intentions, not for cold blooded murder. Abigail had blackened her heart, and Hannibal sensed her potential. What the girl would be capable of doing, what he could mold her into. It was enough to make him stop and think.
Was this... empathy?
No, this was simply opportunity. A way to make things fun.
...
"Please." She was begging a monster, indulging in what she knew was going to happen.
"Please what, Abigail?" The heavily accented voice cut through the lingering silence that weighed down on the air.
The quivering girl choked on a sob. "Please don't do this."
"This is protocol." Hannibal responded with an emotionless tone that began to make Abigail's hopes crumble. "All lose ends are to be tied. You will not be deemed innocent forever. Someone will figure out your secrets, just as you've figured out mine."
As much as she hated to believe him, he was right. It was only a matter of time before Will would end up putting the pieces together. Hell, Jack already had suspicions. It was only a matter of time before they were confirmed.
Hannibal was offering her an escape, an easy way out. She didn't want it.
"You know there's some other way, I know you do. Please, I don't want to die." She could feel her knees weakening, her breath picking up, anxiety sparking.
Hannibal's left hand took hold of her body, beneath her elbow, to support her. "You are proceeding to make this harder than it needs to be."
"Because it doesn't have to happen." Her voice cracked at the end of the statement. Her expression began to soften and she was helplessly gazing at him, forming a mask. Abigail was concocting a plan in the back of her mind, revenge. Redemption. Manipulation was a strong skill of her own, Hannibal wasn't the only one who was talented with words. "Let me help you."
With that sentence, Abigail had sealed her fate. Hannibal spent a moment contemplating what would unveil should he give in to what this situation was suggesting. Her tone with sincere, yet her motives were questionable. Help him? He almost snorted. Why? Why would anyone want to help him?
How could he trust her?
"Abigail, you underestimate the effects of where this predicament will lead you."
"I'm going to die anyway. What's the difference?"
Both his hands dropped from touching her in any way, they rested in his pockets now as he continued to think. There was a great risk in what he was willing to do - but wasn't everything he did was a great risk. This wouldn't prove to be any different. In fact, if things had gone wrong, it would be a mess he could easily clean up. Only Abigail could mess things up. He would just have to test her.
"Very well. You will listen very closely." Hannibal paused, letting her regain her composure; letting her calm down. "Are you listening?"
She nodded, finally able to breath again.
"I will think this over and see what I am able to do. In the meantime, no one is to know you are alive, understood?" He waited for her to nod again before he continued. "You will reside in my basement, until I can clean this mess up. It will be complicated, and it may take some time, but you will consider this a courtesy to you. Do you understand, Abigail?"
"Y- yes, yes. I understand." She understood.
It was him that didn't understand what he was getting himself into, what this would bring him. Hannibal's newfound mercy would bring forth his own demise.