Chapter 1 Are We Different?

Once Barney left the hall, did everything return to its natural clatter. Only did Cassendra and Hannibal remained quiet. Someone whistled, "Over the Sea to Skye"

Others muttered nonsense and other trivial things. The occupant inside the cell across the Cassendra, however, stared fixatedly her for a few minutes. His features were hidden from the shadows, but his big, pale, hands grasped the bars tightly.

In a raspy voice he said, You're a giiiiirrrrlll?"

There was the signature, animalistic hiss but it sounded more natural, more defined, "Yes."

"Whhhhhyyyy?"

The hiss turned into a growl, "Because I was born with a pussy instead of a pencil prick like you."

There was a cough.

Cassendra heard the man next to her, Hannibal Lector, say something.

"What?"

"I think he was asking why you were here."

"Oh," Cassendra looked at her feet. Dark green shoes.

"I killed a couple of people," Cassendra finally hissed out.

"Please," said her neighbor, "For all our sakes, can you be more specific?"

Cassendra sighed impatiently, "I went a little nuts alright? I'm not too sure what happened. I just know someone called me a freak and the next thing I know I'm sitting in the art class drenched in blood, surrounded by bodies."

There was an eerie silence between them. The hall was still filled with mindless babbling.

"Do you admit that you are insane Ms. Aubrey?" Hannibal finally asked.

Cassendra gave off a snort that still had the animalistic hiss bout it.

"Whose to say what is crazy and what isn't? YOU seem pretty sane to me. But then again, maybe in this reality everything that is crazy seems sane, and everything sane seems crazy. Problem is, I don't know what reality I'm in right now."

"If you could gander a guess, would you?"

"Hmmmmmm," Cassendra thought, "I think I'm normal right now. Normal for ME anyway."

"What is normal for Cassendra Aubrey? May I call you Cassendra?"

"I prefer Phoenix. But Cassendra's fine," she trailed off, "And I think we shouldn't talk about me until we get to know each other better," there was a hint of teasing in her animalistic voice.

"So let's talk about you Mr. Lector. How did you come to be here?"

"Ah yes. Childish curiosity, but I'm afraid, my dear, I am here because of my diet."

"Your diet?"

"Yes, have you not heard about me on the news? Magazine's still mention me from time to time again in barbaric slander. Although, my public shaming never really bothered me. It still continues to flatter me sometimes."

"No. I'm not very aware about the world around me. Just an ignorant teenager."

"Very well. I'm sure Barney or Alonzo will tell you one of these days."

"Hmmm, Fine." Cassendra sighed, "Why are you talking to me?"

"Ms. Cassendra," Hannibal said, "I've been in this room for eight years now. I grow bore, and its nice to finally have some intelligent conversation."

"Ah," said Cassendra, "I'm not that smart. Maybe you want to change that sentence."

"It's nice to finally have a conversation with someone that can understand what I say."

"That's better," Cassendra smiled lightly, "Do you know everyone's name in here?"

"You're in Miggs's old cell right now," Lector answered, "Across from you is Sammie, the one next to you is Billy, the one across is Dave…."

"I get is," Cassendra interrupted, "How you doing Sammie?"

Sammie gripped the bars tighter, his knuckles turning white, "Fiiiiiiiiiinnnee….."

"Huh, he talks alright to me," Cassendra pondered.

"Chilton says Sammie is untreatable; that he is a hebephrenic schizoid, and he is irretrievably lost," Lector told her, "But I disagree. Do you know why?"

"No, I don't know what 'hebephrenic' means, but I know what a schizoid is."

"What is a schizoid, Cassendra?"

"Usually someone that see's, hears, and smells things that aren't there. They're brain is wired so it gets mixed up with reality. A paranoia schizophrenic' is someone that believes everyone they know and don't know is out to get them, for any reason. It's usually associated with religion, I think," Cassendra said with a type of air to impress her neighbor.

"Very good Cassendra. You studied psychology?"

"No," Cassendra admitted, "I'm just really interested in crazy people. And from stuff I read in books. They're all a little fictional though."

"Sammie happens to be incredibly religious," Lector told her, "No, a hebephrenic schizoid is one of the most difficult patients to treat. They go into terminal withdrawal and personality disintegration. But as you can see…."

Sammie waved his hand at Cassendra, and said, "I WAN too go wiv Jesa,"

"He's coming out of a stupor us phase. No, he's entirely treatable. He's just upset that Jesa is so late."

Cassendra looked at Sammie, his features visible now, and he had a smile on his face.

"Let's hope we're all treatable," she said, mostly to herself.