Dangerous Criminal Love

by Kiri Asakura

Two potentially dangerous killers are brought together by fate. Their dark twisted impulses will be what will inevitably attract them, so they will desperately seek to be together again like that first night of rampaging sex they had together in Boston, the same night they met. Dolarhyde / Dixon. Includes some Hannigram ;)

2. Dominentur et sole

This chapter is very hard :v

…..

Chapter 2 — Dominentur et sole

Dixon could feel the strong attack invading his being increasingly frantic. Dolarhyde was not having compassion. The impeccably groomed blond hair of Dixon was now completely disheveled. The energizing force of the Red Dragon was possessing completely to Dixon, he was not regret for provoke him to get there. Dixon felt that his mind went mad. Francis Dolarhyde dominated all his senses.

Dolarhyde lunged inside him hard and with vigorous speed. Dixon had almost no chance to get used to it. When he started doing it suddenly he felt how Dolarhyde had already changed the position. He did it several times. Dolarhyde easily raised him with his strong arm muscles well exercised. Dixon arched his back in pleasure impulses. At one point he felt how Dolarhyde began to masturbate him. It was an exciting mix of double delight when Dolarhyde penetrated to the bottom while pulled his penis at the same time. Dixon considered he had insufficient groans to express all the pleasure what his body was experiencing. Dolarhyde had never masturbated another man, but he had made himself since he was a child and it had become almost a customary ritual. It was the first time he touched the member of another man, but found it was too good, he was more dominant, liked to have total control of someone like him, with a male body like his.

Dixon clung to his back hard digging his fingers on his skin, he made it even more when Dolarhyde began to nibble the collarbone again and again without stopping much. Dixon drowned his moans on Dolarhyde's shoulder. Above the pair of lovers on the roof was a large mirror that reached the same size as the big bed. Dixon had always liked to have huge mirrors in his bedrooms because he extraordinarily enjoyed watching his reflection and of his lover in turn having hard sex. At that time Dixon saw in the mirror the reflection of their copulating bodies and first he noticed that the stocky and broad back of Dolarhyde was provided with a large tattoo that covered it almost entirely. Even at that distance Dixon realized that the tattoo was too sexy, Dolarhyde's back was even more so. Dixon began stroking his back with much more excitement. In a moment their faces were encountered, they looked into their eyes mutually, noticing each other on their faces that they were both agitated and with a thin layer of sweat on their foreheads. Suddenly Dixon did not resist more, he took Dolarhyde by the neck and pulled his face to his and then kissed him and Dolarhyde agreed and opened his mouth with all the willingness and desire of kissing him deeply. Their lips met for the first time in a passionate kiss while their bodies remained united, agitated, humid. Dixon soon felt his tongue enter into contact with the tongue of Dorlahyde in his mouth while his stiff erection continuously slid into him. It was a wonderful feeling excessively. Dolarhyde's kiss was intoxicating him in total pleasure.

Dolarhyde stopped for a moment to kiss him to spot the face of Dixon for a moment. Greatly enjoyed to see his expression of great joy and kissed him again eagerly. The kiss lasted longer than the first and Dolarhyde further increased the attacks and the pace at which he masturbated him with his right hand, he felt he wanted to devour him whole. Dolarhyde had wanted to lick and suck the penis of his blond lover without hesitation, he wished, but he didn't want to stop to penetrate him, it felt so damn good to be inside his warm, tight cavity. Dixon stopped the kiss a moment when he could not contain his need to scream. He screamed louder than the previous times while put both hands to Dolarhyde's dark hair and stroked between his phalanges. Dolarhyde sought his mouth with his again hastily to reassure some of his groans. Dixon drowned his groans when he returned to enjoy deep kissing his lover alpha. After that, Dolarhyde began to bury his face against Dixon's chest, he fumbled entirely naked and pearly skin of sweat from his lover blond, fingering desperately each inch of his white skin and soon began to nibble his nipples to make them blush. Dixon felt again that was falling in madness.

"Ahh man ... a whole alpha !" Dixon groaned with hoarse voice agitated. Almost he felt as if his body could no longer resist. His moans encouraged Dolarhyde to make further use of force, was the power of the Dragon which made him to have all the power to possess another man in that way .

When Dixon wanted to return to kiss Dolarhyde just could barely touch his lips to his because Dolarhyde immediately grabbed him by the waist and took him to give it a half turn on the bed. Dixon just got carried away, loved this domination, that night Dolarhyde could do whatever he wanted with him, his body was his. In an instant Dixon was in a rear-penetration position, kneeling on the soft bed and before he had time to turn to see he felt the humidity of the rough, warm tongue of Dolarhyde touring his entry until the alpha began licking the inside. Dixon felt a burning feeling go around his belly. Long time no man dared to do to him, and to think that was Dolarhyde who was doing it without asking excited him more.

"ahhh ... this is so ... delicious" Dixon said in the midst of ecstasy. Dolarhyde continued encroaching with his tongue into the concavity of Dixon while he pulled his own member to masturbate himself, wanted to be introduced into his cavity so warm and narrow again, had to awaken a more powerful erection to penetrate him. See Dixon as vulnerable to him in that position he was suddenly having delusional thoughts into his mind, he felt almost as if in the depths of his unconsciousness the Red Dragon had returned to order, order him to penetrate mercilessly to Dixon. The Dixon entrance was completely moistened now.

Dixon felt when Dolarhyde stopped to lick but almost immediately felt the heavy erection of Dolarhyde now settling over his reddened buttocks.

"c'mon...put it inside now... don't stop" Dixon insisted hoarsely, looking askance. Dolarhyde smirked emitting a slight sneer, licking the moisture from his lips that was salivated and soon began to penetrate inside him again, first just by inserting the tip of his reddened glans and then penetrating completely. Dixon groaned again strongly to feel the full invasion inside him. In this position he felt more pain but also knew that Dolarhyde had achieved to touch his prostate almost instantly, stimulating, causing a new erection and an increased sexual pleasure. His cock hardened more and tried to relieve it with a hand but the invasion of a member of hos alpha lover inside him made him hold back to the bed sheets. Before Dixon could get used to the enormous rigidity member of that alpha, Dolarhyde lunged faster and more brutal than he had done before. Dixon felt the pleasant mixture of pain and ecstasy.

"John ... ahhh ... please wait a ..." Dixon called him with his fake name. Dixon was about to ask him to stop, but decided against it, not wanting to miss a single moment of having hot sex with this Herculean Adonis. But he felt he had to resist it even if he felt as if Dolarhyde would leave him in two. Dixon's back arched. Dolarhyde could feel that Dixon was suffering a bit but also perceived in his hands the way how Dixon was enjoying it. He could feel through the naked and sweaty skin of him how Dixon was enjoying a lot of pleasure being penetrated by him in this perverse way. The burning body of Dixon was trembling in his arms. Dolarhyde's hands searched his erect phallus again in outburst. He liked to feel it, throbbing between his male restless fingers.

Dixon also tried to move to contain mostly the penetration but Dolarhyde could submit him before he had the chance. Dixon felt that his body did not respond, Dolarhyde's hands were driving his hip in swing.

"Johnny ... ahhh you're a monster is soo huge! Ahh...bestial..." yelled the blond trying to get enough air to resist. Hearing the last words uttered by Dixon, Dolarhyde felt greatly provoked. He had called him monster. He was. He would show to him.

"You want to feel a true bestial power?" Dolarhyde muttered hoarsely. Dixon realized that during all the sexual encounter, Dolarhyde had not spoken before, the guttural sounds of his voice just have been simply gasps, barely audible. Dixon again felt excited due the judgment threatening of Dolarhyde and bit his lip.

"Do you want to know what a real monster is?" Dolarhyde asked seductively fiery. Dixon just nodded with a whimper and soon his face was sunken against the pillow, one of the heavy hands of Dolarhyde had pushed him heavily to lift his body and cause the attacks were even more rigid. Dixon bit the pillow. He thought allegorically that Dolarhyde was a monster but this time he could not say it. While still was penetrating him savagely, Dolarhyde kept his hands heavily on Dixon's back.

"You see, stupid Red Dragon? I'm not a sexual failed!" Dolarhyde thought to himself in his dreamlike psychopathy that only he could understand. Dolarhyde felt between his fingers as the glans of Dixon began to leak. His hard member inside the blond was also bursting, throbbing. Dolarhyde further increased in the attacks inside Dixon until his orgasm was released in a delicious explosion of his seed. Dixon internally felt the warmth of the ejaculation of his alpha male lover and then it began to trickle between his buttocks. Dolarhyde smeared with his fingers the white liquid. Dixon smiled breathlessly for the perversity of Dolarhyde and gave a long sigh. Dolarhyde leaned to nibble the top of his back, his blushing ear, his buttock. Dolarhyde felt like if the malevolent Red Dragon teeth belonged to him, it had amalgamated to him forever.

The unbridled lust lasted a great while longer until finally their bodies exhausted and panting were separated. It did not pass much time for both to fall asleep, Dixon was proud of what he had accomplished and he reached to stroke one of the pectorals of Dolarhyde, he managed to feel the beating of his heart pounding due the sex before falling into deep sleep.

…..

The annoying alarm clock on the dresser, that was next to the bed, rattled early. Dixon managed to turn it off with his hand and decided to close his eyes in order to get some more sleep. He was terribly exhausted. Daylight hurt his face. A few minutes later the alarm sounded again and this time he decided it was time to start to get up and his first immediate thought was to blindly feel the other side of the bed. He realized, to his surprise, that his prized alpha lover was not there. Dixon tried to sit up quickly but he immediately felt a pain that provoked him wince. He found that acute pain came from his butt. No doubt it was an intense night of rough sex. Long time since he had not sex so wild like that way even considering that in his life he had slept with too many men. But despite the pain he did not regret at all. Now he should worry about where was Dolarhyde. Dixon carefully lifted from his bed and reached to dress as soon as he could with his boxers. Found his underwear lying on the floor which Dolarhyde had torn the night before. Dolarhyde often did that with whom he slept.

Dixon moved across the room. In the time in which he did it, he not heard any noise to indicate that Dolarhyde could be in the room, but the suite was huge and to get to the bathroom he had to walk a few feet. Dixon began to feel strangely desperate. He felt even more frustrated when after searching in the whole suite found no trace of him. Dixon was not a sentimental man but absence so sudden of Dolarhyde made him feel bad. Although remember the delicious night of sex that had given him, comforted his bad feeling. He leaned over the balcony and saw a little traffic from cars traveling on the street wondering if Dolarhyde could be running from him in one of those vehicles. But it was ridiculous to see it well from there. At that distance the cars looked like ants.

He sat on the edge of the bed, a little hesitant and the electrifying pain hurt him a little. He began to stroke the side of the bed where Dolarhyde had slept.

"That bastard not even waited to make him a good pay ..." said Dixon for himself with laughable voice. The throbbing pain in his butt turned to afflict him, for now that would be a good memory of the wild sex he had lived the night before.

Dixon as quickly as he could he went to take a shower to hurry to down to reception fast in order to ask the manager and staff if any of them had seen Dolarhyde. When the blond was about to get into the shower, after having stripped completely he felt the viscous moisture sliding into his entrance. Dolarhyde's semen trickled slowly between his thighs. He realized that he had not stopped to think before about the fact that Dolarhyde had not used a condom. Dixon was a promiscuous man but had always been fully cautious with the protection. But sex with Dolarhyde had been too sudden and taken to realize at the time that they should use protection. Anyway he did not care much that Dolarhyde had ejaculated inside him. Actually he liked. He opened the shower tap and the water began to cover his body. He not stopped thinking about what happened the night before, even not for a moment.

Dixon finished showering when he quickly went to the reception and gave to the manager and his staff in charge the physical description of Dolarhyde to locate him but all they could show him were some recordings from security cameras which actually saw Dolarhyde leaving the hotel. But there was no more data of that. Dixon thought it was better look for him outside.

"Sorry we can't help you more, Mr. Shepard" said the manager addressing to Dixon. Dixon could never use his real name to make hotel reservations in any way, dealing of a murderer for hire. Whenever settled into a suite he did it under false identities making cash payments. Dixon smiled to the manager with his white smile and left the place without protest.

The blond decided that he should continue work on it outside the hotel so hurried to leave the place and seek Dolarhyde on his own. He thought that for obvious reasons he could find him again in the same place where they had met the previous evening and took a taxi that went to the big main archive of the Boston Herald. But while Dixon spent all day and all afternoon there, he could never find Dolarhyde. His frustration grew and he realized that there. He only had wasted his time. He felt exasperated.

"I should have gone to consult a detective to locate him before... maybe this time it may be harder to find him" he said to himself as he finished down all the steps outside the building. He was annoyed. Dolarhyde really liked him and now seemed he had vanished like smoke in the air, in a huge city that had no idea, in a country that was not even his. He thought that Dolarhyde was becoming more than his whim, he was becoming in an obsession. But that did not matter. Dixon always had had great obsessions and always managed to satisfy them. He would find Dolarhyde at any cost.

Dixon called a taxi to go back to his suite. As the car stopped and he climbed in the vehicle, he indicated the driver the address where was the luxury hotel, the same hotel where he had been possessed by the vigorous alpha with sexy Red Dragon tattoo drawn on the skin of his back male. Dixon licked his lips at the memory, recalling his burning kisses, recalling his huge, thick cock sliding inside him with outburst, remembering his male hands almost merged with his bare skin excited. He also felt the tingle in his crotch that made him stiffen under his pants, which the taxi driver might not notice. A few seconds after Dixon closed the door and the taxi started the march, without knowing Dolarhyde was crossing the sidewalk, in order to also take a taxi. Unbeknownst Dolarhyde had been close to Dixon that afternoon, but neither Dolarhyde did know it. Dolarhyde had spent the time until sunset in a park near the daily local of Boston, thinking about the events and watching people walk there. Thinking in wild sex he had had with Dixon, how good he had felt fucking him and thinking about the power that the Big Red Dragon gave him. He felt much stronger.

Dolarhyde took the next taxi and told the driver the place where he wanted to go. He reached to the modest apartment building where he had installed a few weeks ago.

He reached the building and with normally pace he reached his apartment. Some of his neighbors saw him but they already had accustomed to it.

Dolarhyde did the same ritual act that had become accustomed to do from years ago, meticulously inspect everything in home was in order. He still had the obsession to be wary of thieves. It was also quite late and since the morning, after return to his apartment from the suite of Dixon to change his clothes, he had not been inside the house.

After finished reviewing every corner he decided to take a new night shower. He needed it, needed to relax.

Being under water of the sprinkler, he concentrated in the nakedness of his pelvis. His eye fell on his own member, limp and wet by the running water from the shower. He hold up the phallus with one of his hands and remembered the exciting and passionate night he had with the mysterious blond man who knew nothing more than his name, a name that could not be forgotten. The name of Hector Dixon would remain in his memory for posterity. Dolarhyde thought the time had penetrated him for the first time, the first warm contact inside. It was a different contact that he had with women before, an oppressive and rigid contact.

He remembered how much he had enjoyed touching the body of the blond with his hands, the body of another man. His moans with sweet male voice as if he were an adolescent boy. Nibbling his white skin, almost as clear as the skin of Reba, but different. And that blond hair, golden as the sun still shone in the dim light of the lamps of the luxurious room, golden hair which ended disheveled by the agitation of the wild sex. That blond hair golden like the sun.

Dolarhyde began massaging his penis under the current concise flow of water from the shower. It soon rose to an erection. He could not stop thinking about Hector, that was the name of the blond, that the only thing he knew about him. He also knew that his skin was delicious, had found that his lips were sweet and that his body tight. Remembered how the blond had contracted the invasion against him and how the blond trembled in his arms, the arms of the Red Dragon. The erection in the shower rose more obscenely. Now he almost vividly remembered the deep kisses they had in meeting of their wet tongues. Dolarhyde was masturbating due Dixon. He eased his erection with both hands. The water continued to fall.

"Ahh" he groaned finally and pulled his cock harder. Remembered that small body imprisoning his member from within to not let it go, that white British skin, that white and perfect teeth, that boldness of him to provoke him to take to his bed, those eyes of deep gray gaze, that shining golden hair like the sun...golden as the sun. He was the Red Dragon...The golden like the sun...

The domination of the Red Dragon, the absolute power of the evilness of Satan compressed in the conceptualized idea of a mortal man...the Red Dragon dominating the world with his evil yoke upon the earth...the fearful woman clothed in sun who tries to escape from the evil ... but it is late, the golden woman has been reached for him and has been entangled with the tail of the Red Dragon. He's about to devour her...golden like the sun... then...maybe Blake was wrong.

That was!

Dolarhyde stopped to think about this new twisted idea. If he was the Red Dragon, perhaps Dixon was the representation of the sun. Maybe Blake was wrong, the anthropomorphic representation of the Sun was not a woman but a man. Or maybe the wrong had been the apostle John in the revelation of the apocalypse. He felt his cock explode. He moaned loudly.

His erection finished the unprecedented spill of his sperm spread in his hands, running water vanished it. Dolarhyde closed the faucet of the shower and walked out of the there. He took a towel from the shelf and dried. After fit it around his waist, he went to make out his own reflection in the mirror sink. He had taken the decision to return to reunite with his other part, the man who was meant to complement him. The blond man, golden like the sun. But he would have to do it the next morning. It was midnight.

Dolarhyde woke up the next day and the first thought he had in mind was the image of Hector Dixon. Did not stop to do echo in his mind the ideas he had had the night before in the shower. The Red Dragon could not be complete if he did not get to his feet the man clothed in sunshine. But he had mastered him a whole night and that was enough for now. He understood that it was the reason it had been too good fuck him. It was a clear signal. Their bodies were made for perfect fit.

Despite his newfound ideology, he knew still was awkward to him fully decipher all the surreal and bizarre ideas of his mind. Dr. Hannibal Lecter with his refined and sophisticated general of the world knowledge was best placed to understand it. He still felt obsessed with the idea to meet in person with him, enjoy together their common archetypal dreams, enjoyment of bloodshed. But he also had to find Hector Dixon. He knew then that he had been too stupid to have left his suite without saying goodbye.

Dolarhyde finished breakfast and left his apartment in order to look for Dixon soon.

Moreover Dixon had not stopped thinking about the alpha Adonis. He drove him crazy. Dixon had slept naked in his large and luxurious bed in the presidential suite, as if to revive the memory of what had happened between them that night of debauchery. At least feel the red satin sheets slide under his bare skin could be the closest thing to remember the contact with Dolarhyde's hands fondling his nakedness, possessing him.

But early in the morning, before he could finish awake, Dixon received a video call on his laptop. He was the man of high ranking, the British politician who had hired him to commit the murder. He called Dixon with the order to return to London as soon as possible to give him the rest of the pay and also to avoid arousing suspicion of the police. The man did not care when Dixon explained that he had been changing of the hotel since had killed the man and he always had been totally careful to leave no tracks. The politician ordered and threatened him for him to take the private jet that would take him to UK in an hour.

"Dixon you've done an excellent job, you deserve to pay the rest. The private jet will wait for you in an hour" said the man from the monitor.

"I'm glad you are satisfied with my work ...sir" Dixon smiled.

"I'm very much, I cannot complain about your job, such flawless job".

"But ...I would want to stay at least one more day here..." Dixon said hesitantly. He knew the political would reject it.

"The private jet will wait for you in an hour Dixon. We cannot raise suspicions in the police. We must not risk..." said the politician while he would hold a cigar between his fingers.

"I understand but ... it would be just another day" Dixon tried to persuade him smiling. The man became exasperated at it.

"The private jet will wait for you in an hour Dixon. If you dare to try to contradict me, my men will come for you... they will treat you excellently" snapped the man with sarcasm. Dixon noted the rigidity of his expression when puffed his wide cigar. There was a silence before that Dixon responded his answer faltering.

"So in an hour ..."

"In an hour the private jet will fly to London. Spread your time, darling" criminally the man smiled from the monitor of his laptop and stopped the video call. Dixon sighed resignedly although he didn't desire to leave the hotel, from the country, to go the damn airport. But the threatening expression of the influential man was too clear and menacing. Dixon could read well all his evilness in his aged face through the screen. He decided to resist protesting and ignoring his authority. At one point he was already packing his baggage and taking a taxi to the airport where the private jet was waiting for him.

He was frustrated for not being able to find Dolarhyde but he proposed to return to the country and the city as soon as he fixed that issue in England.

When Dolarhyde went to the hotel where Dixon was staying, blond already was about to board the private jet that would return to his country. Also when Dolarhyde approached the luxurious reception to ask for Hector Dixon, the manager and his staff told him that no one with that name had stayed there.

…..

Meanwhile in The Chesapeake Hospital, in Virginia, lying wounded on a cold hospital bed the agent Will Graham, recovering of the harm that the murderer Francis Dolarhyde had caused him in their last fatal meeting, when Dolarhyde had discovered the address of his house and had attacked him with planned infamy. The wound that Dolarhyde had done in his cheek terribly hurt, it had caused a large swelling and still had swollen the skin and also hurt the wound done by the bullet that had gone to bounce off his forearm, but especially hurt to him the abandonment of Hannibal. Hannibal had fled with his psychiatrist therapist, Dr. Bedelia Du Maurier with unknown destination a few weeks ago, probably to Europe. Hannibal had left Will.

Will Graham had always been attracted for the enigmatic and refined personality of Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Although he did not admit it, even at that time, the criminal acts of Dr. Lecter amazed him for that the simple fact he never hesitate to carry them out. For his serenity and elegance that he never missed even to murder and dismember to someone. Hannibal Lecter always managed to do his tasks, always managed to materialize his darker impulses and commit his twisted murderers and turn them into culinary arts, another of his passions.

He had been unconscious for a couple of days, he had dealt a heavy blow to the temple when he fell down the stairs after being hit by the projectile of Dolarhyde. At that time Graham thought it was his final, Dolarhyde had it in his hands. But it passed a day since that had awakened in the hospital. He realized that was in an intensive care ward, mitigated by painkillers and pain. He was still recovering, but gradually was managing to recover the notion of things. He looked at the clock of big numbers hanging on the wall of his room. He could see it was about to give four o'clock, but had no idea whether it was afternoon or morning. He went back to sleep until noon, this time he notice it because the sunbeam could penetrate through the blinds. He might be able to smell the medicine that permeated the atmosphere. Suddenly someone came into his room. Dimly he could realize it was Jack Crawford who stopped at the foot of his bed staring at him. Graham tried to speak but felt a terrible sharp and an oppressive pain in the side of his jaw that prevented him from even utter a word.

Crawford smiled and Will realized that his condition would not allow him to speak even if he tried.

Jack knew Will wanted to communicate but he could not do it, so he approached him a small whiteboard with a marker and then Will began writing his questions, with some awkwardness but being concrete and direct.

"What happened to him?" Graham wrote on the whiteboard.

Crawford explained all the events that had happened after Will lost consciousness at that confrontation against Dolarhyde and how then he and the FBI arrived to rescue him.

"Sorry Will, we could not catch him. Unfortunate he escaped leaving no trace, just a few hairs without root; it is not suitable for analysis. He brought gloves, most likely, so we have nothing of his footprints and fingerprints. His shoes are a style all too common industrial footwear, I cannot imagine how many thousands of people use the same type of footwear that guy used that day. Unfortunately, in the Brooklyn Museum he killed the two responsible for the art gallery by which we have no witnesses of the crime or credible evidence. The man was wearing a costume that day no doubt."

Will Graham managed to write on the whiteboard another sentence. "He had a mask"

"That continues to hinder the case. We don't know the real face of the Red Dragon. Even in front you were he didn't show with his face exposed. The only person who has seen his real face, Freddie Lounds, is now dead," said grim Crawford and made a short break to continue "although some witnesses who reached see the museum entrance have provided us some data from which our staff has managed to develop a sketch, not enough reliable but is the closest to Red Dragon we have for now"

Crawford sat on a chair near the bed. Will had listened him intently all the time.

"It seems that in the house that caught fire was not a trace of the life he had. The blind woman who knew him and with whom he had a relationship doesn't know beyond what they know in the film laboratory where he worked, all the data are scarce. It seems that Dolarhyde swallowed the earth, but we're still in intensive search. "

At that time the nurse hit the glass of the window to indicate to Crawford that the time of visits had ended.

"I should go out, I'll see you later" said Crawford, annoyed that the nurse hit the glass a few times more.

Graham looked at him reluctant. As Crawford left the room, he thought of the anxiety caused him to know where the hell could be now Dolarhyde and how the hell his face was.

He was defeated again by the torpor and fell into a deep dream. In his mind appeared memories of a past that was not far behind. In his mind a kind of film of his most prominent memories were presented since he had met Dr. Lecter. From the first moment he saw him, the intense feeling that had developed for him; the unknown, stubborn obsession to be part of his life hidden and even that time when Hannibal stabbed him, after Will had confirmed suspicions that had for some time ago, the cannibalism of Hannibal.

Hannibal had betrayed him and he had hurt him in the side of the body, that pain had seemed much more terrible than the bullet that has grazed his arm three days ago. The wound that Hannibal had done to him had been done with surgical precision and then...he kissed him. Strange way of loving. It didn't seem much strange when a couple of months ago he and Hannibal had become lovers, in the same spot where Hannibal had offered him psychotherapy. It had started on the divan and was over in bed, the bed of psychiatrist. Will Graham had again the impression to feel the satin sheets tangling on their naked bodies that desired each other and that finally had joined.

The relationship between the agent Graham and Dr. Lecter had always been strange but at the same time complementary. They felt an odd sort of co-dependency. Something exciting.

But it had failed to fully consummate in that time.

After Hannibal wounded Will and attacked Crawford that day, they had managed to capture him. Dr. Lecter had been detained in the psychiatric, sheltered with maximum safety in the State Forensic Hospital in Baltimore, condemned to nine life sentences. Ironically because the same Lecter, Will Graham had also been detained there before, unjustly, for a time, he was acquitted of charges to prove his innocence and sanity. But Graham was not too sure of his own sanity. He had never killed someone with purpose and coolness as Dr. Lecter did it. Think of something like that really disturbed him too much, but yet even now he still was repressing his darker impulses in the recesses of his psyche Will Graham thought like a murderer.

But a few months after his detention, Hannibal Lecter had escaped, then to deceive and kill the nurses who guarded him.

Will Graham continued his lethargy for a few hours, sore, undermined. Outside the ICU, Jack Crawford received at the hands of a nurse a targeted letter to Will. The nurse told him that some flowers had also come along with the letter.

Crawford had a strange feeling. The flowers had not any signature, the letter only showed the recipient. Crawford asked the nurse to take the flowers to Will's room while he put the letter in his pocket.

He got that an intern make a fluoroscopic review the letter in the ray room. He cut the envelope carefully with a thin paper knife and superficially checked inside the envelope hoping that did not contain any sort of strange powder. When he realized that there was no something strange took the letter from the envelope and proceeded to read it. It was definitely what he guessed. A letter from Lecter.

Dearest Will:

I found out the hard confrontation you had a few days ago in your own home against that murderer. You do not know how I would love to visit you. Unfortunately we live in a primitive era, nor savage nor scholarly. And your curse is the half measures. Already have you accepted the eccentricity of your psyche, dear Will? Or perhaps you still live disturbing yourself regretting the faults of others? Here the life is good. I am glad to be away from the irrational duplication of the psychiatric hospital.

I wish you a very speedy recovery. I still think of you often.

—Hannibal Lecter—

Crawford was not surprised by the cunning with which Hannibal had managed to send the letter without suspecting its origin. Hannibal was too cunning but the FBI would track it. Crawford was also surprised by the intimidating manner in which Hannibal headed in that letter to Will. He felt they held a close and intimate relationship sporadically. But he knew it was only inferences, he was not sure.

He put the letter in his pocket and thought of the idea of burning it in an incinerator.

In the United States, in Boston, Dolarhyde felt a little desperate, the power of the Red Dragon was not helping him find his other part. He continued finding Dixon. However despite desperation, Dolarhyde had returned to resume one of his favorite habits. After taking another night shower and dressing just with his kimono he sat on the sofa in the living room to watch some new home movies he had obtained from a new laboratory of films that had just found in the city. He had used his false identity and thanks to his experience it had provided things.

After finish watching the home movies and excited with them Dolarhyde went to the "special room". In his new apartment he had conditioned extravagantly one of the rooms designating in order to concentrate there all the potential of the Great Red Dragon. He already was the Red Dragon since his visit to the Brooklyn Museum but despite that he had already devoured the original work of Blake, decided to keep the poster which portrayed the Red Dragon, replica of the original. He thought it would be a good way to keep worshiping himself. He sensed that watching the reproduction was facing it was like if he was seeing himself in a mirror. He entered the room and turned on the lights that lit focused on lithography and below of it lay the huge and heavy old bible of hundred years with covers lined with black leather, open in a page that referred the revelations of the apocalypse. The smell of old paper rose to his face.

Dolarhyde was reading again and again a specific paragraph. Paragraph that explained everything. "And there appeared in the sky a great sign: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head."

The kimono fell to the ground sliding down his skin. Now he was naked in front of the Great old Bible and lithography of the Red Dragon. It had raised between his legs a thick erection. He began trying to relax it with one hand. Dolarhyde began to go into a trance as he read and reread the paragraphs that talked about the Red Dragon. When he changed the fragile pages and inevitably fell some of the newspaper clippings which had terrible crimes, mostly murders of older women.

Dolarhyde still retained the habit of cutting these pieces of news and kept them within the huge holy book. One of the cuttings that had fallen to the ground was part of the news about the murder of the British politician who had committed Dixon two days ago. Newspaper clippings had fine annotations of Dolarhyde with calligraphy similar to Blake. Used his notes reveal part of his dark thoughts. Now he felt that his head was unable to hold all the majestic strength of the Red Dragon. He felt should liberate some of his dark thoughts annotating them on the cuttings. He felt his dreamlike thoughts now not only escaped from his ears, visible and luminescent in the darkness, but managed to escape from his eyes and from his mouth. He had put the fake teeth. The teeth would prevent the Red Dragon ran away from him, from his body.

Dixon came to England after an exhausting journey of several hours in the private jet. When he arrived the London, the politician went to receive him and the private detective at the airport where the jet had landed. Dixon congratulated him and handed him a check for a large sum of money to pay off the rest of the pay.

"You have not seen me ever, and never will see me anymore in the future. Understood? Dixon?" said the man coldly. His expression never ceased to seem cruel. Dixon felt annoyed.

"Understood sir..." said Dixon concealing his displeasure, outlining a fake smile. He tried to shake hands with the politician egomaniac but he even not took his hands out of the pockets of his suit. At that time Dixon also wanted to assassinate him. He was a hateful man. But the wage had actually been very good, so he could not complain.

After leaving the man, Dixon went to his new penthouse. On arriving there he felt a little empty, he had not been able to stop thinking about the wonderful alpha man he had met in Boston. But it was too early to return to the United States, mainly because just as the politician had said to him, they should not raise suspicions to the police on US soil until a few weeks later.

He should resign and find meanwhile something to distract himself, but could not consider the idea of hiring another man to have sex. His obsession was now completely set in the suggestive strong man of sexy tattoo. Taking a shower that night he realized that some brands had bruised behind his neck. He smiled to himself by realizing that Dolarhyde had marked him as his own. He grinned in the mirror.

When he checked the phone noticed he had several voice messages saved.

"Oh... finally you dared to call me...stupid" said Dixon to himself with some anger after finish to hear one of messages. All messages were from the same person. Dixon decided not to listen more.

…..

Final note: Okay I hope you have enjoyed this new chapter, I have made many references to the original Red Dragon by Thomas Harris of which some refer tracking a similar plot :3

I apologize if I made mistake, I keep trying my best.

By the way, the Reba McClane mentioned in my fic is based on the original book by Harris, a white woman of reddish hair.

I hope you liked the dream allusions that I have included in the text.

I hope to update soon ;)