Author : Luna Denree
Title : Waiting For His Return
Genre : General
Censor : I don't think there's something to censor here ;)
Pairing : None ;) I mean, not at the moment...
Comments : My version of how Clarice Starling felt and tough after Hannibal Lecter's escape. It may be strange, I know. But I hope you'll like it ;) I just corrected it, I hope this is better than before !!
Disclaimer : "The Silence Of The Lambs" isn't mine. I just borrowed it from the great Thomas Harris and I don't make money with it.

Waiting For His Return

He frightened me, the first time I saw him. He looked so naughty, but I knew he was worst than all of them. Wasn't he ?

His eyes glittered with red shades of light made him even more dangerous for my mind. How could there be shaded with luminosity, I never knew, the fact is it were. His words deeply hit my heart and soul ; I knew this was on purpose. He tried to hurt me, to see how strong were my basis. I was pleased to discover they were stronger than I tough.

Then he made me that Valentine present, and I left him in his jail, with that awful man. I caught myself thinking of him with wonder for supporting that guy. With a grin, I then remembered he was supposed to be mad, and event if he wasn't when he reached that place, he surely was now, 'cause madness never comes by itself, and that director surely was contagious. But the laugh which should come at that idea fade up before I could let it go.

He helped me a lot in that inquiry, not by telling me what happened, but by showing me how to think. That way, I learned more with him than with the academy. He taught me how to react in face of terror. Just for that, I'll always be grateful to him.

Then he escaped. And my world turned upside down.

For months, they had an eye on me, fearing he'd come back. I never apprehended that. I knew he wouldn't harm me. He told it, and I didn't had any reasons to mistrust him. I was waiting. Even if he was on top of black list in United States, they finally tough he was death. I was sure he wasn't. Certainly he was sleeping, keeping the daemon inside of him away. But death ? He didn't knew that word for himself. And I waited for his return.

I'm still waiting. Will he give me news, one day ? I can't do anything else than fear he would. 'Cause when it will be, a new dawn will rise on my life. And who knows what will happened next ?

Yes, I always hear the lambs cry. But now, I also hear his voice when I wake up in the dark, at the middle hours of the night. I often dream of him, of his eyes looking at mines, of his strange left hand. I see his drawings again, with my face on it. I remember the plastic jail where he was trapped, where the world put him as if he was an animal.

I know he isn't. Maybe even is he the only man on this earth. Any beast could escape that way. It was violent, it was cruel, but how come the world was cruel on him ! Above all things, the way he got away was brilliant. Nobody thought of it, and it proved it efficacy : isn't he far, now...?

Isn't he...?

I hope so. I hope he'll always be free, and stay away from USA. Neither what they thought or what they will think if one day my ideas about his escape come to light, I hope he'll never be caught again. He isn't the kind of man which should live in the shadow of others.

But I don't want him to come back here. 'Cause I'll be bond to trap him again...

... Or to run away with him.

Did you liked it ? Thanks for passing by ! Please R&R (and be nice, English isn't my first language...).