"I don't understand, I don't understand I just don't understand."

Cecelia sat in Dr. Lecter's office, her mother in the chair beside her. Cecelia remained silent, Dr. Lecter had offered a few words, Marisol Bently, Cecelia's mother, was never silent.

"Truly Dr. Lecter, you couldn't possibly think my Cecelia should be loose do you. I've tried, OH how I have tried to help this child. I put in so much, so much time and effort. I couldn't work when she was young you understand, I couldn't leave her alone for any length of time, this poor child would have never survived if I hadn't put in all the time, effort and training I did when she was young." Mrs. Bently paused only a moment to take a handkerchief and dab at her eyes. "You see her education wasn't complete, wasn't finished before she was out spreading her legs and getting knocked up by the first man who came along. Makes me sick to think about it, sick in my heart and in my head. Too much of her education was missed to her fornication addiction. It turns my stomach." Mrs. Bently again dabbed at dry eyes.

Lecter looked at Cecelia, sympathy wasn't something he typically bestowed on others and she would find none from him today. Today he was curious at her reaction to her mother's presence in the session. She had assured him she was following his instructions, what he had seen so far confirmed it, her demeanor had changed, she had lost the weight he had instructed her to drop and quite a bit more to his surprise and appreciation. She dressed differently, had cut her hair in a fashion that suited her better. He approved of the changes she had made.

"Dr. Lecter, Dr. Lecter,"

"My dear madam I do apologize." Dr. Lecter said recovering from his silent appraisal of Cecelia.

"Do you not think it would be better if Cecelia was resting somewhere or at the very least she should stop this notion that she live on her own and come back and live with me."

"Mrs. Bently I do not believe either course of action is necessary."

"Someone who has murdered should be locked up."

Cecelia faltered, Lecter noted and filed it away.

"No one believes that Mrs. Bently, other than you of course."

"What do you call it Dr. Lecter?"

"Preservation of life." Cecelia answered for him.

"You shoot your own daughter? Whose life are you preserving?" Her mother asked, her head was tilted back and although they matched in height the elder woman looked down on her daughter.

Dr. Lecter looked to Cecelia, gauging, judging her reaction. This time there was none, no noticeable flinch. He approved again.

"Mrs. Bently, perhaps you should see firsthand Cecelia's alternate form of treatment we are using."

Cecelia's head snapped to attention, she narrowed her eyes at Lecter, he could see and hear her silent 'No'

"Yes, yes Mrs. Bently, tonight at Cecelia's home we will both be treated to a demonstration." Dr. Lecter stood Mrs. Bently stood pulling herself up to her full height improved by the heels she wore. She jutted out her chest, reminding Lecter of an aggressive animal, fighting for dominance.

"Are you coming Cecelia?" Mrs. Bently asked in a tone reserved for simple children and animals.

"Cecelia I would like to speak with you privately in a little more detail about our plan for tonight."

Cecelia nodded and settled back down into the chair.

"I'm very interested in seeing this demonstration tonight Dr. Lecter, I'll just wait until you are finished with Cecelia, you can tell her to come straight to the car."

"I'm afraid the work we have this afternoon will take a little time."

"Surely you don't expect for me to wait too long."

"No need to wait at all Mrs. Bently."

"I drove Cecelia here, you don't expect me to come back?" Mrs. Bently's tone implied she had no desire to do any such thing even if asked.

"My dear dear lady, I expect nothing from you. Cecelia can find her way home, I'm sure of it."

Marisol Bently pursed her lips, suddenly unsure for one of the first times in her life if she should voice her opinion. The man who stood in front of her, although pleasant and well breed made her nervous. Marisol was never use to holding her tongue, but there was something in Dr. Lecter's eyes, something in the way he stood that was almost daring her to contradict him, challenge him, and it made her waver.

"You know Dr. Lecter," she said changing her posture, she shrank from the gorilla stance she had taken before, shriveling into a more submissive posture. "You and I are looking for the same thing." Her voice shrill before, now soft, seductive. "My little girl needs to get better," she reached out a hand almost placing it on his sleeve but pulling it back before she did. "I worry," a hint of southern drawl now crept into her voice, a tone which puzzled Lecter since he knew she was born and breed in Connecticut. "Dr. Lecter, my baby is fragile has been, always will be."

"Mrs. Bently, I can assure you, your daughter's nature has changed, her fragility is something you will no longer need to be concerned about. You will see how strong your daughter can be and is. I have complete faith you will see firsthand your contribution to your daughters," he paused, "Education." Lecter's slight nod of his head dismissed the woman. She left his office, drove home and agonized. Calling the police dropped in and out of her head, there was something not right about that man. But the police asked too many question and tried to put their noses in places they shouldn't if one delved too deep into her family, Marisol shuttered, it was a history she didn't feel the need to dust off.

"I do apologize for my mother Dr. Lecter." Cecelia said as he sat down across from her.

"There is no need to make apologies for behaviors you have no control over Cecelia."

"I do question your motives for bringing her here."

"They are not sinister I assure you."

"I doubt the validity of that statement Dr. Lecter."

"Do you think I would lie to you Cecelia?"

Cecelia kept quiet, not answering the question.

Lecter sensed her hesitation and pressed on, "Cecelia, I would like you to take me to that night."

"Dr. Lecter I do not like to go back there."

"I understand Cecelia but we will, I will go with you and help you. It was around Christmas time is that correct?"

She nodded, reluctant to again pull this bandage from the wound.

"You had finished decorating? All the festive ornamentations were up?"

"All but the tree. Everyone always wanted a real tree, I'm allergic. We always had to wait until the week of Christmas to get it."

"Presents purchased?"

"Yes."

"Were you a typical early shopper Cecelia?"

"The girls were easy that year, my husband's gift was,"

"Was what Cecelia?"

"Already wrapped," she whispered.

"What had you given him?"

Her eyes darted around the room, looking for an answer she was hesitant to give, "A boy." She mumbled.

Most of the information Lecter had on Cecelia had been pieced together from physician's notes and police reports. Cecelia herself was reluctant to fill in the pieces of his missing information. He avoided the media since they had a tendency to get most of the information incorrect. The pregnancy was information he didn't have.

"Why was this a Christmas present?"

"I had been pregnant before," he noticed she didn't use the term 'we', this was something she was keeping, she owned this. "Three had ended in a miscarriage, the last required a D&C this time I was keeping it hidden, if problems happened it would only be mine. He wouldn't have to worry."

He could have asked, no, he should have asked why this was important to her, but he was busy today and needed to clear his schedule for this evening. He would get back to it later.

"Tell me what happened when you were taken into the room."

She shook her head.

"It is not a request you can refuse."

"I was raped." She said flatly, she was retreating into herself.

"Cecelia, tell me everything."

She closed her eyes. She wasn't taken into the room she was dragged there. She told them she would do whatever they wanted, whatever they needed, she would do it, hurting her girls was unnecessary. The tall one, (later she found out his name had been Lucan) understood, one of the others, (Marcus his brother) wanted to know why they would take a fat bitch like her over popping a young cherry. He had taken her oldest daughter's face and pressed it into his crotch as he said this.

Lucan understood and never hesitated. He told the others to stay there, grabbed her by her hair and dragged her into the guest bedroom. Cecelia looked back at her family, hog tied and gagged on the living room floor and wondered exactly why she offered herself up for sacrifice. Because it's what you should have done, this was a normal reaction. Cecelia's mind had to remind her of these things. What was normal, she hadn't been normal for a long time.

Once in the room she was ordered to undress, which she did hesitantly at first, a hard slap to her face sped her up. He snorted in disgust when she was naked, she thought that would be the end, prayed it would be the end. A thought slipped into her mind maybe she was too disgusting and he would go back to the girls, maybe he would spare her, but she was ordered to undress him instead. She was told she was going to ever regret volunteering for this job. It was something she knew already.

He pushed her down on the bed, the musty odor of the duvet cover almost making her sneeze. She needed to change the sheets in this room, it seemed overdue for an airing out. She thought briefly what and odd thought to have considering the circumstances. What was odder was the thrilling anticipation that was running through her as this man stood before her cock hard and sure.

He was on top of her in an instant. The pain was unbearable. He was unforgiving and relentless. Bending pulling and pushing her in ways she hadn't experienced before or since. He wasn't quick he prolonged the torture.

Without giving it much thought, she didn't give anything much thought at the time, she was trying to be outside her body and mind but a numbness in her foot brought her back. She didn't know how but she managed to get the tieback from the curtain wrapped around her foot. It could be used for something she just wasn't sure what it was at the moment. She couldn't keep her mind focused it was everywhere at once. It kept going back to when she was a teen. She had suffered from severe eczema, in high school she was taunted relentlessly. She had forgotten that shame until now. Now it was all she could remember, well, no that wasn't entirely true, she remembered something else. Her father, he had taught her distractions, at least he attempted to, hoping to keep her hands and fingers occupied so she wouldn't destroy her skin scratching. She had a series of small toys, 'Fidgets' that were supposed to help. They helped a little but the thing that helped the most was string.

Her father had given her a piece and a book on knot tying. In the beginning she was horrible at it, only managing to make a series of tangles, but she continued to practice. She kept a length of twine with her throughout her high school career. It was something she could keep hidden from her mother and it was a secret she shared with her father. Knowing they had a secret together would have killed her mother, making her even more prone to do it. She actually became quite good tying knots, boating, fishing, decorative, climbing knots, she could do them all.

As she lie there waiting for her night of torture to end mindlessly she took the tie back from around her foot in her right hand. Most of her knots she could tie blind. That was easy, one handed a little more difficult. Unless he turned her over (which may have been likely) she wouldn't have been able to tie one of her fabulous knots.

She still tried though, she had committed to memory a number of knots, any number of slip knots would be beneficial. The slippery eight floated into her mind, she twisted the rope, in her hand, trying not to be noticed. She wasn't sure that doing it one handed and blind would be successful. It may not hold if she missed one of the loops, or worse yet she wouldn't be able to get it anywhere near his neck to do anything useful. She was starting to doubt her plan made any sense. What would stop him from just slipping the loop from around his neck and beating her to death once he was done. She was losing her confidence and her nerve, until he finally flipped her over on her stomach. Staring at the wall she slipped the lose end of the tie over one of the slats of the head board wrapping the end around one wrist. The next part was tricky, she held the loop wide in both hands waiting, pulling, tugging the rope fretting the loop was too small and it wouldn't fit over his head, building up the nerve. She finally did, finding some courage she arched her back finding his head easily, slipped the noose around his neck and pulled.

Cecelia fell silent. She found a spot the floor and focused on it. Lecter waited.

"I'm unsure of your reluctance to give the full account of what happened that night. Do you find your actions that terrible?"

"I find them obscene."

"But they are yours, you should own them. Do not hide from what you are embrace what you've become."

She looked at Lecter tilting her head. "What exactly should I embrace, paraphilia, parricide, necrophilia? Please you tell me which one."

"You should appreciate each gift you are given, learn to take that gift and find a good use for it." Lecter stood and stepped up to stand behind Cecelia. He stroked her hair entangling her dark strands between his fingers. Cecelia closed her eyes to the sensation. His hand moved down her neck, pushing the collar of her neck down and running his finger over the angry red scar there. She jumped up out of the chair getting out of his way.

"I must admit Cecelia, I'm very interested in finding out more about you, more about what moved a beautiful, educated woman to such actions. I'm also curious to see what else you can do."

She gritted her teeth to fight the smile. She would show him exactly what she could do.