All our secrets are smothered in dirt, underneath paving stones
Lying waiting to be told
Some stay hidden, while some get found
Like our long lost soul, like a stone beneath the ground
Backyard skulls, deep beneath the ground
All those backyard skulls, not deep enough to never be found
- Frightened Rabbit
Lights flashed between each blink, causing him to lose sight.
A dead body was on the ground next to him, pale and ghastly.
'How long has it been since that happened?' Will thought to himself. 'Too long. What a wretched day. It's exactly one month.'
Closing his eyes, he let his minds gates open back up to that memory.
Will couldn't for the life of him find Hannibal.
Damned darkness.
A branch snapped under his foot, causing him to jump in paranoia.
Whipping his gun in front of his body, he squinted at the night.
'Why the hell does he have to hunt at night?' Frowning, he heard a scuffle a distance away then a shout, "Will!"
Inhaling sharply, he sprinted towards the voice.
Twigs snapped under his feet and cracked in his face. One was particularly sharp, making an open wound above his cheek leading to right below his lower eyelid.
It was enough to make him stumble over his feet and stop to check his surroundings.
He was in a clear patch of a forest, light from the moon trickling through the leaves. The trees loomed ahead, behind, upwards from Will. The leaves were probably the size of his hand, determined to cloak him in sheer black and green.
Closing his eyes tightly, he felt paranoia and soul-shaking fear wash through him. He spent minutes trying to calm his rapid heart eye. He had to find Hannibal before something happened to him.
Shining the flashlight between the trees again, he spotted a meadow ahead.
Taking his chance, he crept slowly towards it, keeping low in the bushes if someone was hidden there with a gun. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, demanding to take control of his brain functions.
His hands shook, time swirling around in his head.
He was about to fall to the forest ground when he heard his name again.
"William!" Hannibal sounded so close. Just right in front of him. Within arm's reach.
Mustering the rest of his energy, he pulled himself away from the shrubs and sprinted to the voice.
"Hanni-" Will's voice was cut off with a shriek.
From the other side of the clearing, a body vanished back into the greenery.
His ears were ringing. Checking his body with his hands, he seemed to be intact and clean. 'Then... Who was that gunshot towards?'
Wheezing could be heard to the left of him.
"Will." A voice croaked out, Hannibal's voice to be exact.
A scream was caught in his throat as Will turned to face Hannibal.
Blood blossomed around Hannibal's chest, threatening to drain out. A wet cough and a wheeze told Will he was already half gone.
Pushing his grief away, Will fell to his knees next to Hannibal's head.
With shaking hands, he lifted Hannibal's head and placed it on his lap. "Shh.. Shh."
Will smoothed Hannibal's drenched hair out of his face.
Leaning over, he kissed the space between Hannibal's brows.
Hannibal took a shaky breathe, causing more red to appear over his once clean suit. Will's mind compared the wound to a withering flower.
Inhaling Hannibal's hair scent, he pulled back to memorize Hannibal's face.
Hannibal was as collected as ever, showing no pain or sadness. That didn't mean he didn't feel it inside. Wrapping a hand over Will's knee, Hannibal shuddered, suddenly cold. 'Smile.' Hannibal thought, 'Just for Will.'
Mustering the last of his energy, Hannibal peered up into Will's eyes and smiled.
Will held back tears, not wanting to believe this was real. He hallucinated all the time. Why couldn't it be the same this time? Maybe if he wished hard enough.
Hannibal's eyes glazed over forever locked on Will's memory.
Hannibal's body seemed to deflate, warmth leaving his fingertips and cheeks. His mouth was partly open in an unforgiving grin. The last smile received from Hannibal. They would haunt him, awake and asleep. The new source of his nightmares.
Shutting his eyes, Will slowly rose up from the dirt. "Goodbye, Mr. Lecter." Detaching himself of his feelings, Will refused to look back at Hannibal's stone body.
Now, a month after, Will was standing in the same spot his heart died.
The medics and police dogs found his dead body a week later, decomposing and gruesome. The smell haunted Will now, along with nightmares and hallucinations. Will saw him each day, dying over and over. It exhausted Will's sanity.
Each day Will wished it had been him and not Hannibal. Hannibal would still be alive if he got to him sooner. If only.
It was raining and cloudy.
'My name is Will Graham and soon I will see Hannibal Lecter.' He reminded himself.
Will hadn't slept in days, afraid he would never wake up. But now he wasn't afraid, now he was ready.
Smiling to himself, he pulled the same handgun model that had murdered his doctor.
"I am Will Graham, this is the simplest method, and soon I will see him."
Raising the gun's mouth to his head, he flicked it to life.
A loud pop reverberated throughout the forest, echoing off hundreds of trees.
Will fell to the ground in a broken slump, blood oozing out of his head wound and gun discarded away from him. Everyone always said Will would die in his own hands. And they were right. The forest changed just as quickly as it had begun, seeming to calm down and melt away.
"I am Will Graham, and now I have Hannibal Lecter."