Author Note:
I don't own Hannibal.
I just started writing for Hannibal, so I hope all the readers will go easy on me. AU of course, but heavily based on the show. I couldn't find much information on the floor plan for Hannibal's house, and some things changed during the show, so I'm going to partially wing it. Only the prologue is short, the rest is long. I have no beta-reader, so mistakes are all mine. The theme is paranormal, not much of a horror story, beside maybe graphic depictions. I have no plans for a pairing yet.
Rating might go up to M due to violence or something.
Stay Out of the Kitchen
Prologue: October
There was a demon in the other room. Terrified, Abigail ran, for obvious reasons. Running into Will's room, hiding under the bed, mouth covered tightly as she resists the urge to scream. The door opens right away, feet slowly entering the picture. Shit, shit, shit. Of course they had to move into a haunted house of all places, just when her own life had been flipped over and she had pulled herself together. Like some old horror movie. The terrifying thing about this haunting, though, was that Abigail knew exactly who those 'things' were. They had names, stories, written in books and published in newspapers. Some from over a century ago, some from decades ago. Yes, Abigail knew their names, she had read them, in search of some sort of explanation for her own violent and shredded life.
The feet pace in a circle. No tail, claws, just ordinary boots, scuffing across the carpet.
Abigail stops breathing, horrified as the feet slowly start to leave. Her throat pulsing with the adrenaline running through her body, like the she fell into the lake. Her dad had to pull her out, she was so young, the experience had been horrible. Cold water seeped into her lungs, only to be coughed up seconds later. It was winter, mother had been scared and driven her to the hospital, fearing pneumonia.
The dragon, as she calls him, refusing to use his real name (which would be admitting he was there, and she really didn't want to admit it) leaves, the door shutting behind him. It's a long time before she comes out; she swears there is someone there, pushing her on, telling he it'll be okay. She slides out from under the bed, peering around the empty bedroom, then getting up and walking to her phone on the desk. Grabbing her coat, making sure her keys are secured, she leaves, the names still playing out on the back of her mind. There was more than one victim, just as there was more than one killer, but only a few names were published.
Bloom. Crawford. Dolaryde. Budge. Lecter.