AN: I don't own any Hannibal Lector related thing. Please review
Doctor Chilton rushed by excitement pouring off of him and disturbing the other occupants of the dungeon. This had to be the greatest moment of his career.
The secrets of doctor Hannibal Lector were going to be revealed. It had happened mere hours ago. One of the home previously occupied by the good doctor had been bought and after a week of residence the owners had noticed a door in the unused attic space. It was locked at the time but with the help of a locksmith, they were able to gain access.
What the found inside scared the life out of them and brought complete rapture to doctor Chilton.
A Shrine.
But not a religious shrine. A shrine created by doctor Lector for a woman. Nearly one hundred pictures plastered the walls, all done in the doctor's own hand and all depicting the same woman in a variety of clothes and positions. Tiny boxes were arranged in precise patterns around the base of a small platform. On this platform lay the most wonderful discovery of them all. A journal in the cannibals hand writing. With an amazing amount of wonder he opened it up to the first page.
Dear Journal,
As you a most defiantly aware, you are a gift to me from my beloved. I do however doubt that you remember anything from before she laid her warm caramel hands upon your cover. I myself have seen how the stroke of those graceful digits can leave all else insignificant. I have found that the ground about her chair is the greatest place to sit due solely to her tendency to card her fingers through my hair.
Do not mistake her feelings however. You my dear confidant were a gift to a friend or perhaps a son. Never the sultry, sweat inducing lover. I honestly believe she has not the slightest unladylike or un-innocent notion in the entirety of her mind.
And yet unintentionally she exudes pure all accompanying passion. Her movements are those of a Greek goddess conjured up from some nightly fantasy by the mind of a masochist. Constantly wishing to be punished by looking upon perfection and yet being so unworthy of her.
I pity you being forced to part her company to be my gift, and yet I find that I want to rip you apart out of pure envy. You caught my beloveds eye, made her admire your form. She ran her hands across of your surface. She smelled your scent of leather with her lips all but pressed to you.
I need to calm down or I shall end up destroying you. A gift from her is far to valuable for that.
I should tell you how we came to be together since you were not here then to witness in first hand. I shall begin with the meeting of my love . After all little before that matters with the exception of my sister Misch and the monsters who took her from me.
Well after departing from the repressive halls of the orphanage they had set in place of my childhood home, I made my way through the boarder in search of my aunt. But then I saw an estate. It is and was small by my the standards of my old life but by no means poor.
I would describe it for you, but even now I do not have a clear image of it in my head, so powerful was the presence of my lady even then. She sat in the amongst the roses with her radiant white dress tucked beneath her. Her ever tangled mass of black inky hair cascading down her back and shoulders in a way that left me sweaty and sticky all throughout the night for years to come. Her massive amber eyes lit upon me glowing in their innocence and wanton in their invitingness. Her luscious red lips curved upwards into a smile and those eyes..
..those eyes were hidden as they shut to become all but slits to match the small adorable crinkle in her nose. Two wrinkles that appeared in all of her smiles. She waved me over to her with a gentle movement of he wrist and I briefly noticed a book in her hand. Very briefly.
This very image still haunts me to the point that I have come out to that precise spot under the cover of darkness and pleasured myself to the image of what I still wish had happened then. Sweat covered, breathing harshly I work my body beyond what has to be possible. I moan and I beg as her phantom fingers pull and stroke along the entirety of me until I finally whisper out her name using all of the restrain I have to stop from screaming at the top of my lungs. And each morning she goes out to sit on that very spot and the next night the passion is more potent then the last.
On that first day however she asked me my story and I told her of my search for my aunt. She offered a place to stay for as long as I wish it.
I cannot bring myself to wish for anyplace other then in her presence.
Farewell for now my friend. In the morning I shall tell you more, but my ladies voice calls me from below. I will not keep her waiting.
Doctor Chilton's smile widen as he made his way down to the last cell in the dungeon.
It was time to have a talk with the Good Doctor.