Warning: I was in a very bad mood when I wrote this.
They're not mine. Thomas Harris owns them.
----
Hannibal woke up in the middle of the night. The first thing he noticed was that Clarice was not beside him. The second thing he noticed was where she was. She stood at the end of the bed, holding a gun, pointed at him. At first he was scared. Then he thought that she was probably kidding, though standing at the foot of their bed, pointing a gun at him in the middle of the night was a little too far.
"May I ask what you are doing?" he asked in a calm voice.
"May I ask you to shut up?" she asked him back, in a voice that was not fully as calm. A tear slid down her face. He wanted to walk over to her and brush it away but thought that it probably wasn't a good idea at the time
"Clarice. Please put the gun down."
"No."
"Clarice. Put the gun down and we can talk about what's wrong."
"Can't you just shut up? I'm so fucking tired of your little therapy lessons"
He understood that he probably wasn't going to be able to talk her out of it, so he stood calmly and walked towards her. She followed him with the gun.
"Oh no, Doctor. That won't work. Sit the fuck down and put on these." She handed him a pair of handcuffs. He took them and looked questioning at them.
"What's going on, Clarice?"
"Shut up and put them on."
"No." It was his time to refuse.
"Put them on or I'll blow you brains out"
"And what are you going to to when I put them on, Clarice?"
"You know perfectly well what I'm going to do. And stop calling me Clarice, I'm not your little girl anymore. I'm tired of you playing games with my mind. You're going back were you belong."
"Let's talk about this, Clarice," he said as he walked towards her again, faster this time.
"Don't you fucking call me Clarice," she screamed. That was the last words he ever heard. Then she pulled the trigger, and everything went black.
END
They're not mine. Thomas Harris owns them.
----
Hannibal woke up in the middle of the night. The first thing he noticed was that Clarice was not beside him. The second thing he noticed was where she was. She stood at the end of the bed, holding a gun, pointed at him. At first he was scared. Then he thought that she was probably kidding, though standing at the foot of their bed, pointing a gun at him in the middle of the night was a little too far.
"May I ask what you are doing?" he asked in a calm voice.
"May I ask you to shut up?" she asked him back, in a voice that was not fully as calm. A tear slid down her face. He wanted to walk over to her and brush it away but thought that it probably wasn't a good idea at the time
"Clarice. Please put the gun down."
"No."
"Clarice. Put the gun down and we can talk about what's wrong."
"Can't you just shut up? I'm so fucking tired of your little therapy lessons"
He understood that he probably wasn't going to be able to talk her out of it, so he stood calmly and walked towards her. She followed him with the gun.
"Oh no, Doctor. That won't work. Sit the fuck down and put on these." She handed him a pair of handcuffs. He took them and looked questioning at them.
"What's going on, Clarice?"
"Shut up and put them on."
"No." It was his time to refuse.
"Put them on or I'll blow you brains out"
"And what are you going to to when I put them on, Clarice?"
"You know perfectly well what I'm going to do. And stop calling me Clarice, I'm not your little girl anymore. I'm tired of you playing games with my mind. You're going back were you belong."
"Let's talk about this, Clarice," he said as he walked towards her again, faster this time.
"Don't you fucking call me Clarice," she screamed. That was the last words he ever heard. Then she pulled the trigger, and everything went black.
END