Will tried to escape the bed but realized all to well that he wouldn't be able to. The pain came again as the sharp object pierced his skin. Long, slim, perfectly pointed at the end must be a knife Will thought as his scream pierced the dark atmosphere. His attempts at escaping were futile as when he jerked up the knife came down. A hand carefully pressing down on his hips pushed him into the mattress as he brought the knife up and slipping it back into another spot on his abdomen. Will couldn't look down as his eyes were glued to the ceiling Abigail Hobbs was hanging on deer antlers. The contour of her body was dripping in blood it seemed to rain from the ceiling around us.

Finally the last cut was made on my stomach and as the knife was pulled out the pain rushed in. I screamed and clenched my eyes in agony hoping it would subside but it didn't it just came in 10 folds like waves on a shore or a fire burning through a forest. The fire rustled in between my toes and up through my legs, pooling in my hips into the lines cut in my stomach, collection in my lungs and into my throat were it forced it's self out In a strangled cry for help. But who would help the person who dreamed about killing other people.

Nobody

A hand appeared from the darkness grasping for my throat and finally it clutched it and brought the stained knife to it and in the final seconds a chanting in the background

This is my design

This is My design

This is MY DESIGN

The knife swiftly sliced through the arteries in my throat and my blood cut through the air following the knife. It seemed to dance before my eyes as the figures face came closer and in the light from no source came the head of a Buck it's antlers made it tower over me and below it was placed a well tailored suit. The blood seemed to flow around it instead of on it. And his nicely manicured hand pulled on one of the antlers pulling it off its head.

In a batting stance it pulled the antler back and it rushed towards my face as it made contact crushing my skull, my sight darkening and a few of my teeth following the spit releasing from my mouth on impact.

I jolted awake grabbing my hair and gasping for air that didn't seem to seep in fast enough. I dragged my hands over my stomach but felt nothing, no cuts, no blood, and no pain, only the marks of my tainted antique dreams washed through me. I put my hand down on the bed only for it to come in contact with the pool of sweat that had soaked into the sheets. I reached for the phone and dialed Hannibal's number. After a few rings a deep accented voice came over the speaker,

"Good Morning Will."

"I just had a nightmare," I told him skipping straight to the situation at hand

"Meet me in a hour at my office," Hannibal said hanging up

I quickly got out of bed and jumped into the shower scrubbing my body raw. I was unconsciously making the shaped carved into my body in my dream reliving every agonizing second as the knife cut through me like a piece of steak.

Was I only for the finest to carve into? I thought as I faced Hannibal his stare decoding my every pore.

"So what was so different about this dream then the others," Hannibal asked

"Nightmare," I muttered

"Excuse me," he said

"It wasn't a dream it was a nightmare," I told him pushing the hair out of my eyes ", in my dreams I'm always the one seeing the act committed or the remnants of one maybe I even killed them but I've never dreamed of actually being the one . . .Oh God," I whispered into the air as I pulled at my hair trying to extract the memories with the hair fibers.

"Will relax no one is going to hurt you," Hannibal told me placing a hand on my shoulder rubbing it ", you need to loosen up," he told me as he came around and started to rub my shoulders releasing years of built up tension.

I slowly opened my eyes realizing two things 1.) I wasn't in my bed 2.) Hannibal was across from me doing paper work with something delicious sitting in front of him.

"Will your awake," Hannibal said as he gestured to the food in front of him ", here eat up," he told me pushing the plate to the end of his desk

I started to remember lasts nights events as I sat up pulling the object around my shoulders tighter to my torso. I felt the material and it felt just as expensive as it looked: it was one of Hannibal's suit jackets.

"I'm not hungry," I told him answering his earlier statement

"You must eat Will," he told me as he got up grabbing the plate ", it will make you feel better or am I going to have to treat you like a child," he poked some eggs on a fork and held it to my mouth ", Choo Choo."

And finally I laughed. To see this very successful, and serious man in front of me who seemed never to have a hair out of place imitating the sounds of a train you would see on a children's cartoon. As I opened my mouth to suck in air he shoved the eggs inside some of them falling out in my struggle to breathe. Hannibal sat down beside me grinning and placing the plate on my lap.

"Here enjoy as much as your heart desires," he said as I grabbed another fork full shoving it into my mouth. When you live alone you never know if you're ever going to get such an expertly made meal unless you were Hannibal of course.

"Is this for me," I asked as I grabbed an orange juice box off a coaster from the table beside me. Hannibal gave me a nod. "This doesn't seem very you," I told him

"I have clients in the morning also though most do come in the afternoons. But I've found that orange juice boxes have just enough juice to keep people awake, and they are small so they don't overwhelm someone when I offer. Kind of like the effect if you go over to a friends house and you ask for a drink but they have several different kinds. Should I pick Coke, or Dr. Pepper? Though Sprite is my favorite there's only one cold one left so should I ask or just take it. Little things like this worry my clients like they are overstaying there welcome so slowly I have learned to provide for them within the ranges normal people are comfortable with." Hannibal explained

"That was the most in-depth answer I have ever heard for someone owning juice boxes," I told him downing the small container in a matter of seconds

"Yes it does appear so," Hannibal said laughing with me as soon as we quieted down I felt something in my pocket start to vibrate. I quickly took it out and answered the call.

"Will," I heard from the speaker

"Yes"

"Please come down to the park immediately and bring Hannibal your going to want to see this," Mr. Crawford said to me

" What is it," I asked

"It seems someone is turning people into a work of art," Mr. Crawford said and hung up

In the middle of the park stood a woman exactly 6ft tall, long brown hair that was straightened. Her eyes forever shut and her arms gracefully strung above her like a ballerina. Her body covered in an array of flowers, her pale dead skin resembled porcelain. She was stretched into a pose that didn't look her own.

This is my design