A/N: Welcome back. Figured I'd take a shot at Hannibal, and spat something out as a result. I won't lie, I've had this idea and a bit of it already written, but it's a bit... wonky - at least, to me. This small intro is written in 2nd person, but don't be discouraged; I don't plan to write in that pov for the rest of this story.
Enjoy!
Will Graham is a ghost. He floats amidst the living, the breathing, the normal, and haunts the fields containing the twisted notions and impulses of killers and victims and demons and angels and everything in-between. Officially, he is nonexistent, an anomaly among a history of documented absent minds, no record of him present in any documentation, in any booklet, in any history ever put down to paper or inputted into a computer. Will Graham is a ghost.
Until he isn't.
Officially, he has no family, no home, no name. Unofficially, he is widely known as the solver of the Broughten-Bloom case, one of the most famous cases ever to be brought to FBI headquarters in all history. No one knows how he got involved in the first place. Ask a random agent, they'll tell you he snuck in, peering into the profiling and working at random intervals to place hints here and there. Ask an agent slightly more involved, they'll sneer, their face twisting into something despicable, an expression left only for the despised, as they regale you with a tale of deep manipulation and blackmail leaving dust and ashes where a complete, working, compatible team had once stood with great pride.
But ask the one man that has the most classified information on the Ghost, lounging in a mothball chair and chuckling softly through his retirement, and he'll lean in conspiratorially with a soft whisper of the truth. And as you blink in stupefaction, falling into the back of your chair with your mouth agape, you begin to think no one really, actually knows what really happened.
And so that is what you pass on, the rumor you spread around your workplace, flying to every other workplace, for surely what retired Special Agent Jack Crawford had fed you were lies, they had to be.
Will Graham remains an anonymous. Remains a ghost.
You wonder if that was Crawford's plan all along.
A/N: Well, I hope this peaked your interest, because another chapter may be coming up soon that is far longer than this. I'll see you guys later.
Peace!
~IsomorphicTARDIS