AN: As usual, I don't own the characters or the story. Constructive Criticism welcome. If there's any interest in the story I will continue to write new chapters, I seem to have a habit of picking fandoms that have run their course.
A cool night breeze sends goosebumps across his flesh, his hands grope blindly for the blankets, a moment of disorientation as he realizes he is not laying down, he is standing. His eyes open slowly, fighting against the need to sleep, the need to remain blissfully unconscious to the world.
When he finally manages to force his eyes open and into focus, he finds himself lost. Will stands in a dark forest clearing, with only the silver light of the stars above illuminating the leaves and branches around him. He is dressed in the clothes he went to bed in, a loose t-shirt and a pair of boxers, it is cold. Around him the tall trees cluster, joined at the trunk, creating a wall of inky black to hide the paths beyond.
At his feet, dark sprouts begin to push up from the soil like fingers grasping at the air. Will watches them with a disconnected fascination as they lengthen, parting through the dark grass. They reveal a symmetric pattern as they reach Will's ankles, the sharp points elongate, revealing their true form, growing into antlers that cage around him.
They grow like a thicket of thorns, stretching out above him to scratch at the sky. He barely moves as the horns slide across his flesh. The cold press of living bone slowly cocooning him, enveloping all that he is. He feels no alarm, there is something reassuring about the process, something familiar.
He breathes out a sigh as the press of the antlers become almost like an embrace from beyond the grave, the bony thorns holding him close. He could stay here, it is soothing the way the antlers expand with his breath, with a heavy creaking groan like tree branches in the wind.
He could stay, but there is danger here. Will is not alone in the forest. He knows this instinctively, it's like an itch between his shoulder blades, trepidation settling in like an old friend.
There are predators who roam the dark woods, ones slippery enough to get past his solid outer shell and attack the soft flesh inside. Will can hear them now, coming closer to his little nest. Through the gaps in the antlers, he can see their shapes, lumbering beasts of darkness; their noses scenting him in the air bringing saliva to fanged mouths. They are none of them the same, but all beasts of the same ilk; all hungry.
Will can feel their claws scratching, low keening noises emitting from hollow throats. He can feel their desperation, their need. He knows them all intimately, as if they are offering up a piece of themselves to him, in return for his flesh. He feels his skin crawl with distaste, their offerings are inadequate, they would leave him unfulfilled while they gorged themselves on him.
At his refusal to emerge from his cage, they begin to howl and rend at the antlers around him. He can feel their claws sticking into his flesh, their hot breath on his face.
Will feels the beginnings of panic, the beasts wont let up their attack, and their desperation to reach him becomes more violent. They claw and snap at each other, all vying to be the first to reach him. He can smell the sweat, the blood, the putrid breath. His heart pounds against his ribs, all he can do is stand and watch, and wait.
The crescendo of howling suddenly stops, cut short mid note like someone had flicked a switch. The scratching claws fall away, the heavy press of bodies shifting into the dark trees like deer in fright. Will can only watch as a dark figure, tall, thin, and antlered appears at the edge of the treeline. Inhumanly long fingers, flexing slowly as it watches Will.
The hairs on the back of Will's neck stand up, a cold pit forming in his gut. He knows this creature is more dangerous than the others. He wants to flee its presence, the pounding of his heart tells him to run, when his mind knows that the antlers hold him in place.
The creature doesn't move, it's eyes stay fixed on Will, glinting like gems in the moonlight. Will knows himself to be the object of it's full attention, an unwavering intensity that chills his blood. His heart leaps into his throat as the antlers protecting him begin to shrink and fall away, leaving him exposed to the beast before him.
The beast takes a step forward.
Will wakes with a start, his heart pounding in his ears, body drenched in sweat, his breathing laboured and shaking. The world spins briefly, a sharp flash of pain arcing through his skull, pulling a sharp groan of pain from his lips. His hands tug through loose, wet curls, while bleary eyes took in his familiar surroundings.
His pack of dogs watch him from their cushions, ears perked up, soft whines in their throats. Will takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as his mind tried to catch up with itself, sending more sharp shocks of pain through his skull.
His hands tremble as they reach blindly for the painkillers on his bedside, nearly spilling them onto the ground as he struggles with the cap. The glaring red lights of his alarm clock tell him it's 3am, he already knows he wont be getting any more sleep tonight.
The mantra falls from his lips almost without thought:
It's 3am, I am in Wolf Trap, Virginia. My name is Will Graham.He will shower, change his clothes, go for a walk, and when morning comes he will visit Doctor Lecter.