Humble Beginnings.
By The Wrong Company
Author's Note: Spoilers go through all the Blade's.
Another Author's Note: I know its been done but here is yet
another take on how Hannibal King got to be the way he is. It's a little more serious at times but considering the dangers that the nightstalkers constantly live with, I think it would be. The tale begins when King is still human and as normal as he could possible get. I'll obviously throw in a few new characters to spice up the story. Hope you take a liking to them.
When it comes to the record for worst relationships, there is only one king.
"There was B & E Spice, Jessie, who kept stealing my underwear after we broke up." Hannibal recalled the past three years since he moved to L.A. in a small bar not far from his apartment.
"Then Psychotically Jealous Spice, uh" his roommate, Duncan Monty snapped his fingers to jog his memory, "Frances." he took a long drink of his beer before continuing. "She was kinda nice."
"She broke Jessie's nose over my underwear."
"No, it was because you cheated on her"
"I did not." Hannibal said exasperated. "She just didnt check her answering machine often." His roommate shook his head, knowing rationalizing was common with him.
"...Then Pyro Spice."
"She was a sweetheart." Hannibal said raising his eyebrows at the mere notion that she was dangerous.
"She was arrested for arson."
"So?" His tone had little trace of audacity.
"You can't top that." Monty said after a moment. Hannibal scoffed, putting on the image of complete offense and disbelief. He looked around the bar to see if he could prove his good friend wrong.
It wasn't a few seconds that had passed when a woman walked in as if on cue; as if the heavens had decided that he would forever hold the championship in afflicting and catastrophic relationships.
"There," Hannibal pointed to the stiletto-toting woman in black. "Ambiguous Spice." Her face was flush and her lips were a red like he had never seen in his life. Her eyes were necromantic and venomous as they shone in a way that mirrored heworst abrasion.
"Sure she looks evil…but you won't get within two feet of her."
"Alright, Miss Cleo, let's see how well you can predict. Twenty bucks says I at least get a number."
Monty replied in a distinct Ms. Cleo impression. "You're on dahlihin, now go so I can laugh in your face." Hannibal got up
taking two steps toward her, letting out a shaky breath before continuing the rest of the way. Leaving Monty on the other side of the bar, musing as to what was being said. He began low, failing horribly at imitating his roommate, "My name is King, Hannibal King." He switched to high pitch, "'Well that's a weird name, it gets me all buttery.'
'Oh really! Well, why don't you let me take advantage of you right here on this counter,'
'Why don't you go fu-'" Monty stopped after seeing Ambiguous Spice reach for a napkin and write something with a pen that seemed to materialize from thin air. She laughed at something Hannibal said and he grinned in a practiced to perfection swooning expression. She walked outside shortly after, and Hannibal followed but paused by his roommate.
"You owe me twenty," he held up the napkin with her number, "I got a date with Enigma Spice."
"Formally Ambiguous?"
"Enigma just sounds better." He left the bar leaving Monty to just sway his head and sigh.
"This wont end well."
As for the pair, it didn't take them long to reach their destination.
"So, Danica, was it?" Hannibal opted for conversation as she opened the door to her not so humble abode.
"Yeah." She replied clearly not interested in a conversation.
"Nice." He looked around the spacious penthouse with an astonishing view, overlooking a spectacle that he'd only seen in high budget movies or porn films. The only contrast in the room was between black and sleek metal. It was consistent throughout the interior. The furniture was black leather and small steel tables strategically placed here and there. The kitchen had steel counters, cabinets, and refrigerator. Hannibal approached a drawer, curiously opening it to find a large collection of knives. He picked up one that was about a foot long, not including the handle. He couldn't explain the chill that ran down his spine. "You aren't a serial killer or anything, are you Danny-girl?" She came up from behind him, taking the knife from his hand and returning it to its origin.
"Its Danica." She pushed him against the counter. "You don't really know me well enough for pet names." Her tone was distracted and her gaze shifted from his lips to his neck.
"Oh, I'm sure I can think of plenty, despite that." Danica took a step back looking at her prey.
"What did you say your name was?" Her tone was bored and apathetic.
"Hannib-"
"Great. Come this way." She interrupted him and led him to a bedroom that was decorated in the same uniform as the rest of the penthouse. Hannibal flinched unintentionally as the door slammed behind him. He immediately took notice of the only different quality that this room had compared to the others. The room had the view, the lights of the city below glowed although contorted. The windows were covered in what seemed like the end of a ventilation shaft.
"Hmm, metal blinds... Let me guess, all the rage?" he looked at Danica for the first time since she slammed the door. He noticed she was undressing with abandonment and the previous apathetic manner. He was mesmerized, never having seen such lack of enthusiasm. The thought was abolished when she looked at him. She walked over to him with purpose and grabbed the collar of his shirt with both her hands, ripping it down the middle aggressively, somehow taking the under shirt with it. His mouth seemed stuck in the agape position until she reached for his pants. He stopped her remembering these were his favorite pair.
"Why don't you let me?" He opted, thankful to save the them from the same fate as his shirt. He undid the buckle quickly and kicked them away as soon as they pooled at his feet. Danica pointed to the bed.
"Down."
"That's the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me." She smirked despite herself as she watched him saunter to the bed, his attempt at being sexy came off as just plain silly.
"Stop." Danica spoke as he reached the foot of the bed. "Take off your boxers."
"Correction, that's the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me." he complied and threw them at her. She batted them away easily, thinking she would definitely have to keep this one.