PROLOGUE

He hated the world & everyone in it.

Von was ten when he got acquainted with Dr. Lecter.

He remembers that day vividly.

Von's father had made him the appointment.

A way to cope with your loss.

Was how he announced it.

Like the murder of his mother could be coped with.

Yes murder. Von was completely sure his father was responsible.

Despite his unease with opening up to a stranger, Von attended.

He hated it.

Perhaps it was the style of therapy.

The unattached way the Dr. Lecter lamented his mothers death.

Those calculating maroon eyes, Never missing a movement.

No. It really wasn't any of those things.

The subtle way he inquired about his father.

Always hinting that he would be the next to go.

Those hints haunted Von.

He soon came to hate himself.

Dreams. In the middle of conversations and at night, Malicious fantasies starring his father.

Poisoning him, Shooting him. Any form of murder a ten year old could come up with.

And this was only during the first 4 months of therapy.

Dr. Lecter was careful, That much he noticed.

Never out right saying he should kill his father.

But even a ten year old can pick up on advice.

So he killed him.

Spiked his late-night coffee with his mothers sleeping pills.

Gathered all the duck-tape he could get his hands on.

Secured him onto his home-office rolling chair.

Soaked him with a spare can of gasoline.

Caught him aflame.

Pushed his screaming body right out of their 3rd story window.

Von's neighbors were the nosiest of people.

They found his fathers mangled body.

Then called the police.

Quite the useless bunch they were.

Spent the day going through his fathers things.

Looking for suspects who had the motive to kill him.

Searching the 'Scene Of The Crime' for any DNA the killer left behind.

He eventually felt bad for them.

So he admitted to murdering his father.

Charging him with Patricide; They took him into custody.

Only to release him a month later.

According to the courts supplied psychiatrists, He was a schizophrenic suffering from night terrors.

All triggered by the death of his mother.

No one bothered to consider Dr. Lecter's role.

He then spent eleven years thinking he was crazy.

Living functionally with the help of medication.

Forming coherent thoughts were impossible.

It wasn't until his twenty-first birthday; he regained a small bit of humanity.

That year the nurses began to cutback his dosage.

But it was too late.

The voices of people that weren't there.

Unable to feel joy.

Numbness of his nerves.

Pain was such a foreign concept to him.

But they ignored this.

Said it was normal for patients.

For a cost he was set free.

Therapy with..Dr. Lecter.

Medication.

A hobby to pass the time.

They let him go.

Like he was a normal person.

But he'd never be normal.

Hatred.

The only emotion that registered with him.

Rarely did it ever come.

Only when he thought back on his therapy.

The one-sided mind games.

A burning rage would consume his numbness.

Hatred so vicious he had no choice but to feel it.

Von hated doctor lector.

But the courts left him no other options.

So he attended anyways.