There have been many strange things that Will has seen through the years, some stranger than others but all have had some sort of purpose behind it. Every killer has had a reason for killing and many have been caught out because of it. However, Will sees the Ripper as different from the others, he sees him as not having a clear and important reason for choosing and killing his victims. True, it would be important for the Ripper but Will had a thought that the Ripper didn't change his choosing of victims but changed how he presented them. He thinks about the message left for him and there is a small part of him that wants to take the Ripper up on his offer because, let's face it, Will is one step to becoming a killer, but the thought becomes distorted images of Will attacking and killing the innocent; pretending to track himself for the FBI. The thought makes him smile, imagining Jack asking what the motive behind the killing was and Will makes an excuse up that makes no sense. The image is nearly soothing, knowing that he has the ability to trick the FBI into believing everything that he says, but the thought disappears as soon as it falls into his mind.

Will wants to close his eyes and get into the mind of the Ripper but he can't because it's too loud in there. The voices are screaming at him to close his eyes, but his mind knows what is to come. Will needs something to help him, a pill or something but he knows how stupid of an idea that is when he reminds himself of the incident with Jack. Will physically shudders, the memory floating in front of his eyes. He wants to bury himself into the smallest and quietest area of his mind, hidden away from the nightmares that are filled with images of himself killing that girl and displaying her as a mock version of himself. He can see himself carve the teardrops into her face and it scares him. It scares him how calm he is in the situation. A sane person would be screaming, sobbing into their pillow. Oh but you're not a sane person, are you Will? Just submit to your dark desires. He'll take care of you. He isn't completely sure who the 'he' is that the voices are talking about but it scares him. The fear starts to grow within his mind and he cannot help but let a scream fall through his lips. It sounds broken to Will's ears, the sound of a dying man; a dying man who is drowning in the black sea of his own desires.

When he is alone with his thoughts, he can feel the bloodlust growing and he wants to kill, wants to go outside and drag the first person he sees. He wants to carefully calculate how he would take them apart and put them back together again, in the way that he dreams of. He wants them to beg for mercy while he is slowly taking away their life. It should scare him but it doesn't, he sees himself as a predator and they are his prey. It's an unfortunate thought but it is the truth. They were created to be victims to Will's imagination. He knows that he can call Hannibal and tell him about the voices and the nightmares but he thinks that if Will can't deal with them then how is telling another person going to help. He wants to tell Hannibal about the growing need to kill and the hallucinations that are never going to leave him alone. He can't close his eyes; he knows what's waiting for him.

He looks around the room and sees the dogs huddled together asleep. They seem so peaceful, a family unit that doesn't need Will. There is a sudden burst of envy; it seems to explode within him. Will is envious that his dogs have the ability to close their eyes and forget the real world. He is envious that they can close their eyes and forget the problems that the real world is throwing at them. He wants to be able to do that. He wants to push his way into the middle of the group and huddle with the dogs and close his eyes and not be tormented by the images that are drenched with warm blood and broken screams. He stands then; the sudden movement makes his blood rush to his head. He can feel the pounding and he imagines himself as a red blood cell; how can something so small have the power to continue or destroy life? His eyesight becomes blurry for a second and Will's heartbeat quickens slightly while he panics. He tries to breathe and nothing happens. His senses are stricter, sharper and quicker and they try to help. He wants to taste the air around him but it seems sour. Will begins to hyperventilate and every shallow breath that he takes is not just sour but it's burning the inner walls of his lungs.

Will's eyes close for a second and he knows then that he is lost in the sea of his desires. Behind his eyelids sits the stag that he can't seem to get away from. Its antlers are decorated with the female victim from today's crime scene and the blood that is seeping from her body is thick and black. Her pale hand gently touches the Stag and its fur begins to darken and die, hairs are falling and decorating the ground. The girl laughs, it sounds strange when looking at the picture, her eyes are filled with happiness and Will feels like he is disrupting something cherished.

She turns to look at Will and her eyes show the fear that she is feeling. The sudden change from happiness to fear is drastic and Will wants to take a step back. She begins to sob and the tears that are streaming down her cheeks are black. Will begins to talk to her, wants to comfort her but his voice is different, instead of the soft accent that he was expecting, his voice is deep and the words that fall from his mouth are sharp and pronounced. She screams a shattered sound that breaks Will's eardrums. Will feels the knife in his hand he doesn't think about what he is about to do, the knife touches the girl's throat and Will swipes, makes it quick and not painful. He may want to kill her but there is no need to be rude.

The blood is dark and Will pushes his finger into the cut and smothers his finger into the blood that is building there. He directs the finger into his mouth and washes his mouth with the blood. The taste of it is rich but it is bitter. He spits the blood out and it seems to be curdled, like milk when it has been left out in the sunlight for too long. He mumbles a 'Rude and Bitter. A waste of human life. A pity' the accent has become thicker and Will freezes, suddenly remembering that the girl is dead because of him. He wants to throw up but the urge isn't there. He feels proud of what he is doing. He watches the Stag walk away and an immediate feeling of happiness strikes him quickly, it spreads throughout his body and it is then that Will realises that the Ripper is making it personal.

Will opens his eyes and he knows straight away that he isn't where he is supposed to be. There is something within him that is telling him to close his eyes again, that he should try to imagine the Stag; it will take him back to where he wants to be. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine the Stag, hopes that it will appear in front of him but Will is only met with darkness. He remembers then that the Stag only appears when Will is in turmoil. He opens his eyes and takes a breath, the cold air stings and the burn from every inhale of air hurts his lungs. he feels resentment towards the Stag; it has left him here to find his own way back. Will recognises where he is and knows that if he knocks on the door in front of him and he will be welcomed by Hannibal. Hannibal is his anchor, something that Will knows he needs right now. Will stares at the mahogany, Of course mahogany his mind supplies A man who wears pristine and perfectly tailored suits would, of course have a mahogany front door. Will wants to run but instead, begins to pace, slow at first but then his pacing quickens when his heartbeat increases and it feels like it's going to jump out of his chest. He breathes, Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Will looks back at the door and he feels, knows that he is being watched, he only hopes that it is his imagination playing tricks on him and not Hannibal glaring at him, trying to see the truth behind his lies. Hannibal always knows the truth. The door is intimidating him and he knows how much of a bad idea this is. He also knows that there is nothing within him that will stop him from knocking the door and hoping that Hannibal will look over him and say soothing words. Sometimes, when Will is feeling extremely low, he wishes that Hannibal will touch and mark and bleed him.

He stares back at the door and knocks.

Hannibal watches Will walk to his door and there is a warm feeling, it seems to blossom within Hannibal, it feel like a flower blooming in the sunlight and Hannibal wants it to stop but it won't. It is created because Will has seen what Hannibal wants from him and Hannibal knows that Will has seen the potential within himself. He watches again as Will stumbles and before Will has the time to steady himself, Hannibal is there, all arms and soft touches. His hand seems to caress and Will shivers. Hannibal holds him then, the way he would a lover, his arm wraps around Will's waist and keeps him close, forces him to be close. Will blushes, a deep pink which starts in his cheeks and it seems to spread throughout his body. Hannibal chuckles and Will looks away. Hannibal wants to turn Will back so that he is facing him and he wants to bite deep into Will's cheek. He wants Will to scream beneath him and he wants to taste blood. He wants to have Will kneeling as Hannibal feeds him and wants to force him to drink his own blood. The image is perfect and Hannibal wants to take him now. Hannibal guides Will to his house and watches as Will shakes as he unlocks his door. Hannibal wants oh how he wants and that is it. In that second, while Hannibal is watching Will, he knows that it will soon be time to take Will; mind, body and soul. He imagines Will standing over a body that he put there and what a beautiful thought.

Hannibal walks away then, a smile on his lips and the thought of having Will naked and on his knees is still fresh in his mind. He imagines a naked Will crawling towards him, blood falling from his mouth. He drives slowly, no need to rush, the man that is lying on the metal table will still be lying there in a few hours. The man speaks too loudly and does not seem to care for the presence of others. It was easy to take him, a few smiles and words that are pronounced in his sharp accent make even the best of men weak at the knees. He isn't going to be escaping from the tight bonds that are keeping him still. Hannibal can feel the building of bloodlust running through his veins and the impulsive need to kill is increasing quickly.

He imagines Will lying on that metal table, tied down by thick rope that cuts deep into his wrists. Will is whining, like a bitch in heat. Whining for something that only Hannibal can give him. He's pleading now, shouts of 'I'll be good!' and 'I promise Daddy!' running from his mouth. Five minutes more and Will is begging for Hannibal. A quick learner. He sees himself telling Will that 'Bad boys have to be punished' and Will positively whimpers at that. So perfect. Hannibal would cut lightly into Will's flesh and would hear small whimpers falling from Will's mouth. He cuts harder, deeper, watching the blood pool and hearing Will scream for forgiveness. Hannibal would relent of course, but he would leave Will there, bound, to think about what he has done wrong.

Hannibal wants to buy Will a dog. A small Chihuahua that would keep Will company in the hours and days that Hannibal will be away. Will wouldn't be allowed outside the house without the company of Hannibal, it will be something that he will not like at first but he can adjust. Hannibal knows that he will not like it at first but, even though animals are not Hannibal's forte, a dog will make Will happy and Hannibal only wants Will to be happy.

He is now opening the door to his house and all is quiet. There is no yelling coming from the cellar, A pity, its fun when people are screaming for mercy. He takes off his jacket and walks slowly to the cellar, his footsteps are light but they seem so loud in the room. He walks up to the table and glares down at the man. His features are hidden behind tears. Hannibal smells blood and notices that the man's wrists are bleeding. Struggle. How rude.

"Good Evening." The man says nothing in reply, instead, he clamps jaw shut and looks away from Hannibal and his eyes linger on the metal tray. Hannibal looks over at the metal tray that holds all the weapons of his trade, he picks up the knife, wanting to make this quick but painful.

"Why?" Hannibal looks back at the man when he speaks. Hannibal smiles, a Cheshire cat styled grin, all teeth and no lips. Stupid question.

"You remind me of someone I know, except he is different to you. He deserves the life that has been given to him and he is not a rude, insolent human being. I am killing you because you are rude and because I do not appear to have meat for tomorrow evening, but mostly because you are rude." Hannibal grips the knife and starts to slice gently, tasting the blood and watching the man fall apart beneath his knife.

"Please, I have a son and a daughter. I have a family." Hannibal laughs, a shrill sound that echoes around the room.

"Let us hope that your children will grow up to have manners and not become rude like their father." Hannibal slices deeper now and listens to the small whimpering sounds that are coming from the man. "Are you praying?" The man does not speak; instead, he continues to mumble. "No God can save you now." And now Hannibal is pushing the knife deeper and is hearing no scream from his victim. Hannibal is watching the blood pool Another suit ruined. He looks over at the corpse. Forever Broken.

There is a knock at the door.

William.