Chapter 2
Notes: This chapter contains graphic depictions of violence and explicit smut. Also, it skips back and forward and back again in time but its quite easy to put the pieces together, they are quite organized, separeted by underline. The changes in time applies only to this chapter and not the first. One last thing, the penultimate scene was based on one of Quentin Tarantino's stories so here are my credits to him. Enjoy!
When Abigail pulled the knive out of her friend's heart, the blood splashed on her Prada dress, the table, the floor, and all over Chiara, who had a surprised face. Hannibal hit Mr. Tonelli with a hatchet in the jugular, causing a serious wound there and a huge jolt of blood to splash over the floor, the wound deep and open for the fat to be seen. Mrs. Tonelli managed to stand up and turn to Will, asking for her life. Will didn't hesitate and stabbed her multiple times with a cleaver. The three of them kept stabbing their victims and their blood started to mix with one another's. Abigail let the bladed knife fall to the ground and, bloodied from bottom to top, walked slowly to the kitchen, passing by her parents still stabbing their victims.
Abigail had that face she wore when totally in control of herself while panicking. She looked for the hacksaw and, after delicately taking it, she walked back to the dinning room. Hannibal stopped what he was doing to observe her. He was all bloody, matching with his red shirt, with hair all over his forehead and eyes. She walked slowly, standing by the body of the other girl. The body was still seated, with its head thrown back. Abigail, with two fingers, pushed the body, which dropped onto the bloody floor. She kneeled beside it.
Hannibal got Will's attention once he touched him, to look out from under the table at what Abigail was doing. She was behaving like they weren't even there. They observed in silence as Abigail grabbed the hacksaw and started to saw the sternum in half. Apparently she took Hannibal's classes pretty seriously because after a while they heard a loud crack; it was only Abigail trying hard to separate the two columns of ribs. She was breathing fast, but even still, and put her hand inside of the corpse after once again taking the bladed knife she had previously dropped; she cut all the arteries, veins and capillares, literally harvesting the heart.
She stood up, still looking at the heart, and then looked at her parents. They were both bloody as well. Will had an unreadable feature on his face, like he had seen something disturbingly beautiful. And Hannibal, well, he stood up as well. They had the dinner table between then, and she slowly offered him the heart. His face was filled with pure excitement. It was pride. He accepted the heart, not taking his eyes away from Abigail's. She had tears in her eyes.
"For our next dinner. I could happily help you cook this, Daddy."
Three months had passed since they moved to Florece and it still felt like they had moved just yesterday. Will was working as a teacher at the Academy, Hannibal had already moved his appointments to the house and Abigail, well, she was accepted by the University of Florence to study Law. When she had received the letter back, accepting her, there was a party in the house and they all went out to celebrate. Things couldn't be better for them.
She was still living with them mostly because she didn't want to be far from them. Abigail loved her home and her parents and, well, her best friend, Chiara. Abigail spoke to many other girls in college but it was only with Chiara that she felt a true connection. For the last three months the girl had seemed friendly, great company, funny and interesting. But recently, Abigail had noticed some changes in her behavior. Or to put it in better words, her behavior toward Abigail.
Lately, Chiara had been making Abigail feel bad about herself; telling her to change her hair, or her eyebrows, or that she needed to lose some weight. She said she wanted Abigail to talk with her around the campus with her and her friends, but she needed to change some things about herself.
One thing that really made Abigail think a lot about it was when Chiara told her that people in college were saying bad things about her, and that it was a bad thing for her to walk with someone everyone was speaking shit about. Abigail couldn't seem to find a reason, though. She was nice to everybody and felt fine with her appearance. She didn't know what to change about herself to fit in.
Abigail started to pass most of her time with Chiara, especially at her place. Chiara wanted to impress with her foreign furniture and foreign parents, but Abigail was in the same position. Maybe she did that so much and was so selfish that she didn't even notice that. It was the little things that really hurt Abigail when she was with her friend.
She did consider her as a friend. They talked about everything and anything, they spent all their free time together, they liked the same movies, took walks together, and they had even shared a kiss once. Chiara could be a real bitch but she was just a freak, just like Abigail. She had some really twisted habits. One of them was a game called "Chew and Spit", where they bought expensive candies and chewed them but spit instead of eating, so they wouldn't gain weight. Chiara also taught her how to shoplift. But nothing compared to Chiara's latest bright idea.
In the Lecter-Graham mansion, you could hear an insistent bark. One of the eight strays was jumping around Will, who was finishing up getting some food ready to put out for all the dogs. Florence had a reasonable number of stray dogs and everytime Will came across one he tried to approach it. Ending up like this, with eight dogs, and Hannibal dealing with it, was something that Will so far liked to see. Hannibal always made this face when the dogs were being importunate or loud, or even too festive, but it was clear to Will that he did love their dogs. Or at least, liked them.
It started with one. It hadn't surprised Hannibal at all and Abigail was happy to have a pet in the house. Then another night Will brought two, which made the couple have a little argument. Will explained that it was his motto to collect all stray dogs that he found. At least they could all be comfortable on their grounds. It was when the fourth and fifth came through the gates that Hannibal put his hands on his hips and decided to have a serious conversation with Will, claiming that the "dirty carpets" thing was getting out of control. With a little special persuasion Will made Hannibal agree for them to have at least eight, but with all of them out of the house. This then made Will build some simple but comfortable kennels for them to live in outside. Those were Hannibal's conditions.
Will felt complete now. He had his job that he loved, a caring family that he loved, and now his dogs to keep him company on a different level; different from relationships with human beings. He needed those dogs like those dogs needed him. He loved to take care of them, bathe them, heal them, walk them around the neighbourhood. It made him feel at peace and he couldn't be any happier that Abigail loved them all very much and Hannibal was trying to like them in his own way. Everything seemed calm and in the right place, he thought, caressing one of the cutest dogs named Murder, of course, suggested by Hannibal. Hannibal didn't interact very much with the animals so Abigail and Will were responsible for their well-being.
Will and Abigail had started to fish on the lake close to the house a couple of months after moving in, and those moments were some of the favourites between them. Abigain, being a skilled hunter, was soon an expert in fishing and she and Will spent hours in the lake fishing for some fresh fish for dinner. She loved this dad-daughter relationship with Will and he couldn't say otherwise; he felt the same towards her. They both knew Hannibal felt the same; they could easily make a bet that he was the one who cared the most about the family being as united as they were.
Lastly, for Hannibal, things were a bit more intense than what they seemed. Of course the other two knew all about the murders and who Il Mostro di Firenze really was, but they were always quiet about it. He didn't knew if they agreed, disagreed but just would never tell or, simply, didn't care. They accepted what he did, about the hunt, the anatomical pieces. That was incontestable, since they ate everything he prepared, and this time Abigail was aware of that.
He had been monitoring her behavior that had been changing for the last month, but at the same time, she seemed okay. Obviously he knew something was wrong but felt like it wasn't the time to corner her and ask her about it. She could easily manipulate him to believe in what she wanted. Or at least, that was something she thought she could do with him. She had done it before countless times. So he waited and observed closely. He wanted her to deal with it by herself, to make her stronger.
On the other hand, Will seemed better than ever. His hallucinations diminished to rare events and the dogs kept him busy and content. Their relationship was more solid than ever before; it was like they were already married. All the awkwardness and buttlerflies-in-the-stomach had passed and it was the easiest thing in the world for them to approach each other now. They always exteriorized it to Abigail, who seemed full of joy but also embarrassed. They weren't showing off, it was just the matter that the three were always together and sometimes Will and Hannibal showed their affections to each other in the same room with Abigail. But in the end, they were a well-behaved couple.
The idea of a ceremony of any kind was abstract and puzzling so they never spoke about it. Honestly, it didn't feel like they had to and if they did, it would be completely different from the usual ritual. What they had was already pure bliss as it was. And of course they already had had their first time. More than two, to be a little more precise. In Hannibal's nightstand, he kept an unflavoured bottle of lube and two small, discrete vessels containing Will's and Hannibal's condoms seperatly, differentiated by length and width. They were still trying to figure out who was the bottom and who was the top, but that was just another detail that didn't matter. Both dynamics worked just fine.
Hannibal had already a considerable number of patients who he attended to inside the office of his mansion. Any of them represented some challenge, like most patients. However, Hannibal was getting more and more anxious for something to happen, or if it was what he had to do – make something happen. Not that he wasn't enjoying his life, quite the contrary, he had never been happier in his life. It was just this thing about him, that lived deep within him. A dark, messy and bloody one that craved destruction and reconstruction in other ways. He often thought that the three of them were killers and that maybe, well, maybe they could do it again, together. If the opportunity crossed their paths. He thought that maybe doing it together could solidify a pact; become stronger than any deal. It would be something everlasting.
Hannibal lit the fireplace in their bedroom to make the room seem more romantic. Abigail was sleeping at her friend's and they could finally be alone in what seemed like a long time. Will was still in the bathroom, previously taking a hot shower, and Hannibal used the time to light some candles and open a bottle of wine.
As he was serving the drink, Will left the bathroom in his short-shorts and white shirt, while Hannibal was using a black, heavy robe. Will noticed the romance in the air, the fireplace, the aromatic candles, and Hannibal dressed only in a robe, offering him a glass of red wine.
"To us."
Will clincked his glass with Hannibal's and tasted the fine wine. He hummed in delight and kissed Hannibal's lips, quickly.
"This wine is delicious."
"I was saving it for a special occasion."
"A special occasion where we would be dressed in pajamas?" Will asked, with a smile.
"Surprisingly, the vestment is not important tonight, Will. What matters is that we have the house to ourselves."
"To that," Will toasted again, sitting beside Hannibal on the small dark red sofa in front of their fireplace.
Hannibal put his arm around him, also observing the fireplace. The room was getting warm. Will sipped his drink, inhaling the scent before drinking. The silence felt good and it fit with the ambience.
"Isn't it gorgeous? I hope we have the coldest winter ever," Will spoke when he saw it had started to snow again.
"And even still you insist on using such clothes for winter," Hannibal looked at Will's bare legs, wearing those short-shorts. His eyes looked up to meet Will's, "I'm not complaining, it was only a remark."
Will's hand moved to touch Hannibal's thigh over his black heavy robe, leaving it there.
"I'm aware of the way you look at me when I'm dressed like this. I'm flattered."
Hannibal moved his face so his nose could touch Will's hair and spoke really quietly to him.
"I want to try something tonight."
"What?" Will asked, cautiously. He sipped his drink again.
Hannibal nuzzled his curly hair; it smelled like mint and he got quite lost in the moment that he almost forgot to answer, "I want you to call me Daddy."
"Daddy, really?" Will asked, skeptical, turning his head to look at him.
Hannibal stopped nuzzling his head and looked back at Will. He simply nodded, leaving his glass on the small table in front of them, "It makes me feel in control of you," his hand skimmed one of Will's legs, from his knee to his thigh, "Just give it a try. Maybe you'll like it, too."
Will just looked at him. He was considering what he thought at first to have been just a joke. As it slowly became quite real he seemed to approve of it. His hand, rested on Hannibal's thigh, slid with desire as he put his drink on the table as well.
"If you put it that way," he smoothly spoke, getting close to Hannibal's lips, "Daddy," he tried and oh, he liked it. Hannibal grabbed the skin on Will's thigh, from the bottom, where the shorts started, and kissed him hungrily.
Will kept it up but didn't hush any more than that. He kissed him back, putting his other hand on his face, bringing him closer. His hand was still on Hannibal's thigh, but now had found his skin, under the robe. He wasn't wearing any pants.
Soon, Hannibal was pulling Will's ass closer to him, so Will moved by himself to sit comfortably on Hannibal's lap, straddling him and bending his legs. He put one hand on Hannibal's face and pulled him closer for another kiss, in control of it now. Hannibal's hands were settled on Will's shorts, close to his butt. His fingers skimmed inside the fabric at the bottom of them.
Will grabbed the back of the couch and kissed him deeply. He was feeling this strange feeling inside of him, like he wanted to hunt, break, hurt, kill Hannibal. They were hungry for each other and they showed it in the kiss. Will started to move his hips, slowly, against Hannibal.
Hannibal groaned at this, moving his hands to Will's hips, helping him move. Soon his fingers were inside his white, plain shirt, slowly stripping him out of it. Hannibal tossed the shirt somewhere on the floor and he paused the kiss for a moment, so he could appreciate the sight for a while.
"Like what you see, Daddy?" Will asked innocently, playing the game.
Hannibal skimmed his fingers on Will's shoulders, chest, abdomem and stopped at his hips. His eyes wandered with every move of his touches. He looked up then, to Will, and nodded before staring at Will's erection inside his shorts.
"Yeah, Daddy likes it a lot."
He breathed out.
Their lips met again and Will started to move again, with more intention this time. He was getting painfully hard inside those shorts and he could swear Hannibal was wearing nothing but the robe. Will was glad when Hannibal moved his hand to touch his member above the fabric. He let out a moan, encoraging him to keep touching as he moved closer to his hand.
"Now, don't rush it. Daddy will take good care of you tonight,"
"How good?" Will asked carefully, as Hannibal touched him up and down. After that question Hannibal touched at the wet spot on Will's shorts and lowered them a bit, showing the head of his cock.
"Oh, very good," he whispered before kissing him again and touching his thumb to the wet head, circulating it with his finger. Will held back a moan but let out a sigh instead, gripping Hannibal by the shoulder. When his thumb was all wet, he brough it to his mouth and licked it, looking at Will. "My sweet boy."
It was mesmerizing to watch Hannibal lick his thumb like that, but what was even more exciting was when he held Will by his hips and threw him onto the couch. He was laying on his back now with spread legs as Hannibal came closer. He sealed their lips together, on top of him on the small couch.
After a while of just kissing, Hannibal moved away a little so he could remove Will's shorts completely. He did it slowly, fascinated by Will's skin in the moonlight. The shorts were soon discarded and Hannibal settled himself between Will's legs. They stayed there, slowly kissing, Hannibal deliberaterly touching Will, for several minutes.
Then, Hannibal noticed how hard Will already was, dripping loads of precome that made Hannibal salivate, and he was concerned he had wasted too much already but, kissing him was simply the best part of all of this with Will. How could he be blamed for it?
He kissed his neck instead, moving down on him until his head was close to Will's pelvis. Will thought Hannibal was so good at giving head that sometimes he didn't even crave penetration. So he didn't mind, throwing his arms over his head and closing his eyes with a heavy sigh. And Hannibal really was; he was such a dedicated lover with Will.
It didn't take long for him to have Will moaning, holding his hair and shaking underneath him. Hannibal could feel Will throbbing in his mouth. So he suddenly stopped.
Will let a heavy, disappointed sigh leave his lips and looked down. He didn't look happy at all, his features changed drastically. He hated being denied like that.
"It's not the time yet, there's so much I still wanna do with you," Hannibal said, a little out of breath, on his neck, scratching it with his teeth.
"I thought you said you would take care of me," Will put his arms around Hannibal's neck, caressing the skin on his back. He had a light tone of disappointment in his voice.
"I will. You won't be disappointed, I can promise that," were his last words before picking up Will and walking to the bed. They kissed while Will was being carried and was put gently on the bed. Hannibal remained standing by the bed, making Will feel quite vulnerable under his eyes.
He slowly stripped, opening his robe and indeed, he had nothing underneath it. He was that hard just for sucking Will off. Of course, having him spread on his lap, gasping and kissing him, helped a lot. But now the view was so much better.
Will was laying on the bed, on his side, so he could cover himself a little. That was when he got on all fours, bitting his bottom lip, "I wanna taste you, Daddy," he said seriously, hungrily and decided to take Hannibal in his mouth. When he did, Hannibal threw his head back and put one hand over Will's head.
Will was new at this but he didn't lack talent. He tried to mirror Hannibal's movements on him because he thought that that was what he liked, since he had been giving it to him like that. And he was right. As Will kept sucking Hannibal, the other moved his hands to Will's back, leading them to his ass. He grabbed both cheeks, pulling him even closer, then moved his dry finger to his entrance.
Hannibal touched him just a little, since the other removed his cock from his mouth with a pop and sat back on his knees. That was just to show his swollen, wet lips. He soon put his hands on the back of Hannibal's neck. He kissed him deeply and between kisses he pulled Hannibal closer and whispered, "Come here."
Will started laying on the bed, bringing Hannibal with him. He lay on his back, Hannibal pinning him on the bed. And they stayed there, just kissing, for minutes.
The dimmed lights of the candles gave the perfect mood for them to keep touching, lovely and full of desire. There was confidence – with one another – in the air and that didn't make them feel nervous at all. Even though they hadn't done this too much, so far. "Turn around," Hannibal said on Will's neck, going back to kiss him on the lips.
Will broke the kiss to look at him and bit Hannibal's bottom lip before giving him a final look and moving underneath him, stomach pressing against the duvet. That gave enough time for Hannibal to look in the drawer of the night stand for a) his special bladed knife b) a condom and c) the unflavoured bottle of lube. He left the items on the pillow close to him and far from Will's sight and moved back to Will, kissing his shoulder.
Will leaned on his forearms and turned his head to kiss Hannibal. The other happily obliged. The feeling of moving his cock between Will's cheeks was amazing but with some lube would feel even better. So he broke the kiss and moved quickly to get the bottle. He touched himself with the substance and coated his fingers with it.
Hannibal put one pillow below Will's hips to lift his arse a little bit and lied again on Will's back, now sliding his cock with more precision between the cheeks of Will's arse. He moved his wet fingers to Will's entrance and slowly and provocatively slid them in.
He worked his fingers carefully inside him as Will sighed heavily, holding the duvet with his hands. Hannibal wanted him streatched out and loose so he wouldn't feel too much pain from the next act. He whispered words of love and promises of forever in his ear, kissing it and kissing his neck and biting his shoulder.
When he was sure Will was ready, moaning like he was, he took out his fingers inside of him. Hannibal got on his knees and moved Will's hips up so he could rest on both knees, still laying on his stomach. Hannibal took the second item, the condom, and slid it on himself. He was so soaking wet and hard that it was easy to put it on.
The view of Will's arse in the air, just for him, was magnificent. He moved close on his knees and slowly inserted himself, both of them echoing a grunting sound before he was completely settled in. Will breathed hard and fast when Hannibal was fully inside him, touching his cheeks with lust. He was kind enough to give Will a little time to adjust.
But soon, Hannibal started to move. Slowly but precisely. In and out, completely. Holding his waist, bringing him closer with each thrust. Hannibal lazily lay both of them on the mattress and Will's pelvis on the pillow and started to fuck him harder, making the other moan louder. Hannibal played his tongue on Will's skin; his ears, neck, shoulders and sometimes his lips and chin, leaving bites everywhere, making Will groan each time the bite was too hard.
The whispers were loud and Hannibal was moaning right next to Will's ear. He kept going for a while and slowly stopped. He removed himself from Will, making the other sigh heavily.
"Fuck, Hannibal, will you keep denying my orgasm all night long?" he asked, sharply.
Hannibal chuckled and turned Will over onto his back. He slowly inserted himself inside of him again, gaining a moan from Will. He didn't move, though, getting the knife on the pillow. He remained settled inside of him and started to play with the knife on Will's chest, without cutting him – yet. Will observed, wanting the other to move. When Hannibal started a slow pace he started to make small cuts on the middle of his chest. Will moaned from the pain but in a way, he liked it.
Hannibal came closer to lick the blood and quickened his pace, making small cuts on Will's chest and stopping his ministrations to lick the blood with satisfaction. He then slowed his pace so he could make a very noticible H on the left side of his chest. Will moaned loudly at this.
When Hannibal was finished, Will was all bloody and moaning from pain so he speed up his pace, insanely; only stopping to lick the blood, but never stopping his ministrations. He put the edge of the knife on Will's neck but didn't cut there, he just put the non-sharpened edge on his neck and kept fucking him madly.
The H carved on his chest would probably leave a scar and that was his intention, leaving his signature on Will's heart. He then put the knife aside and fucked him senseless until both of them came, mixing blood and cum all over the place.
And Hannibal, of course, was glad to lick it all up.
_
It was a cold morning and Abigail was changing into her winter clothes. She liked the way her new clothes touched her skin, the way the colours of her dark blue, almost black, outfit fit her blue eyes. She buttoned her long sleeves, got her purse and went downstairs. Will was in the living room changing channels with the most bored face in the world.
"Bye, Dad. Im going to Chiara's," she waved good-bye.
Will turned his head to look at her.
"No, Abigail. Not today. The weather is really bad today and there's a high risk of blizzard for the entire state."
"No way," she said with a disappointed face, walking to Will, "We were supposed to hang out today."
"I suppose you'll have to hang out with us, Abigail," Hannibal spoke, coming their way from the kitchen. "You're not going out and driving in a snowstorm, dear."
Abigail sighed softly and sat next to Will, leaving her purse on the rug next to her. She took her phone from her pocket and started to tap the screen. Hannibal sat on the other side of Will and crossed his legs.
"I give up, there's only rubbish on the TV." Will left the remote on the short table in front of them and got up, deciding to turn the fireplace on.
As Will did that, Hannibal moved to turn the music on, playing Chopin, Nocturne in B Major Op. 32, No. 1, because he knew Abigail loved that song.
"Since the weather ruined your plans, at least you could enjoy being at home."
She was smiling, at the song and Hannibal's gesture, trying to make her have fun anyway. She took off her shoes and sat with her legs across her chest, holding her white socks. Will successfully turned the fireplace on and went to the kitchen to wash his hands. Hannibal opened all the curtains but left the windows safely closed.
The snow was falling slowly but in quite massive quantities, but the fireplace worked just fine to get them warm. So warm that after some minutes of talking with her parents, she decided to take off her coat, leaving just her long-sleeved shirt on. Hannibal served them wine to warm them up and Abigail was already feeling some heat in her cheeks.
Slowly, both Will and Hannibal tried to get to the truth about all of Abigail's odd behaviour the last month. For her part, there really was nothing wrong. She was doing wrong things; she knew about it, she just didn't care. And she didn't know who was doing it to her because that person was her only friend, who also seemed to love her back. It was just too hard to put a line between how good and how bad her friendship with Chiara was. She unbuttoned her sleeves and the fabric slid a bit down on her wrists. She was more lost in thought than truly speaking, when Will started staring and Hannibal clicked his lips.
"What is that on your wrist, Abigail?" Hannibal asked calmy, almost casually.
She opened her mouth for a moment and looked at her wrist, buttoning it again. Abigail had her hair covering her face as she spoke. She didn't want to look at them; Will had the most concerned eyes of a puppy imaginable.
"I thought you were happy here" he spoke bringing her to him and hugging her, sliding his fingers over her soft hair.
"I am. I truly am, it's just...She said I should do it, it would make me feel better, she… even did the first cut..."
Hannibal interruped by tossing his napkin on the table and getting up, buttoning his suit.
"That's enough. No more Chiara," he looked down at the other two, who were looking back at him. "And I mean – No. More," he walked closer to Abigail, lifting her face by her chin and spoke softly. "I'll tell you what you have to do."
Abigail thought she was her best friend. That they would be together to the end. But now Hannibal had opened her eyes. She had been completely blind, hoping for love on every street. She wasn't her friend and now she knew it. Chiara now wasn't the girl Abigail once knew; maybe she hadn't been even since the begining. Abigail had just been blind, like Hannibal said.
And there she was. Chiara. They were at a café warming up and making small talk. She kept talking about the pretty girls at the university, making it obvious that she simply wanted to be one of them. She was, but she wasn't part of the pack since she basically only walked with and talked to Abigail.
"My dad found out about our little game," Abigail sipped her coffee.
"Which one?" she asked, cautiously.
"Cutting the pain away," Abigail sounded a bit bored.
"No, shit. What did he do?"
"He got worried, of course. I promised never to do it again."
"Cutting on your ankle is also effective." Chiara suggested.
Abigail stared at her with deadly eyes but smiled like she meant it.
"Anyway, my dad's offered for you and your family to come to dinner at our house. Tomorrow night. Would you come, please?" she asked kindly.
"They wanna meet my folks? Well, that will be a surprise for them, to meet two men taking care of a girl my age."
Something inside Abigail twisted furiously but she kept her facade.
"Yeah, they want to meet them and learn more about you. They say I always speak of you, but they barely see you."
"Sure. I'll talk to them and tell you later."
They sat at the Cafe for a little longer then decided to go, each one to their own house. Abigail parked the car and took fast steps to the front door. She was excited about what they were going to do tonight and she wanted it to start fast. She locked the door behind her and left her purse hanging close the door.
"Dad?" she asked.
The house was silent. She walked slowly to the living room, dining room, then to the kitchen. There was no one to be seen. That's when she heard footsteps coming from the stairs. Hannibal was carrying a large kind of briefcase and walked to the dinner table, resting it there. Will soon appeared too and joined the other two around Hannibal. He opened the briefcase and there were contained several bladed knives, two cleavers, one hatchet and one hacksaw. There were also some papers and drawings of a human body among other small objects. It was time to learn how to hunt humans.
When the ebony clock in the dining room echoed eight o'clock, Hannibal was done preparing dinner. Abigail was wearing a lovely Prada dress; black with white vertical stripes and a belt at the waist. It had white stripes that held the dress from the shoulders, and also had a long grey sleeve and doll-like black shoes. She had her hair in a bun and just for tonight, didn't care about showing her neck scar. Will and Hannibal were wearing black, Will with a red tie and Hannibal with a red shirt. Both Italian suits, of course.
The three set the table and waited patiently for the guests. They were five minutes late, Hannibal noticed, looking at the ebony clock with its monotone sound. Hannibal stood and turned the music on - Johann Sebastian Bach, Goldberg Variations Aria. That's when the doorbell rang. Hannibal made his way to the front door to welcome the guests.
When the four reached the dinner table, Abigail and Will were sat one in front of the other, right next to the main chair - meant for Hannibal, of course. They all greeted each other and sat in their chairs. Hannibal, who went to the kitchen, was coming back with the main dish.
"Hunters-Style Braised Short Ribs," he said, serving them individually, "With mushrooms and vermouth, which makes these short ribs hunter-style; served with pappardelle and red wine."
When he was done he served them wine and soon they were talking about the food and why they picked Florence to live. The ebony clock counted the seconds slowly and while picking a mushroom up with her fork, she was reminded of that time Hannibal gave her mushroom tea. She wanted to skip time like that had felt for her. She wasn't even listening to what they were saying, she was revisiting everything Hannibal had taught her in less than one day. And she was afraid; afraid because she wanted to do it so badly.
A desire for butchering that she knew both of her fathers felt as well.
Chiara was sat beside Abigail and her parents were both on Will's side; Mrs. Faffa and Mr. Gianfranco, in that order. Just like they had planned. Hannibal stood up to take the plates to the kitchen and bring the dessert. That was Will's cue to excuse himself to the kitchen. Abigail was alone with the Italian family and continued the discussion about university. She smiled, was kind, gentle.
Until she picked up a bladed knife from under the table and opened it fast, sticking it precisely in Chiara's heart. She pressed the knife until there was no blade anymore to stick. There was blood coming from the wound and Abigail's dress was turning red, just like her hands. Her heartbeat was accelerated and she loved the adrenaline of… killing someone. She felt like she was home; it was not like it was her first time in any way. She twiched the knife and pulled it out, making red blood gush out of the wound, gushing onto the table, the food, the floor and, obviously, Chiara's parents. Behind them, both men stood with their weapons in hand. Abigail smiled at them and the couple still sitting at the table looked behind them and couldn't be more surprised.
_
They drove and drove for hours. Getting away from it all, even from their little girl, who was safe at home for now. Hannibal had it all in mind of what he wanted to do with Will. He just needed to find the perfect place. Will sat in silence, unaware of where they were going but trusting Hannibal in his gut.
That's when they found a long bridge. Hannibal parked the car and got out of the car, Will following him. They stood by the edge, looking at the long way down. There was a river down there, really far down from the bridge. The view was magnificent. The smell of the woods and the river and the deserted place was wonderful. There was no one around, no city or buildings around. It was just the bridge, the river down there, Will and Hannibal.
"We have the road to hell in front of us, Will."
Will absorbed the words and nodded; it seemed like paradise. Hannibal came closer and took Will's hand.
"Will?" he asked.
"Yes?" he asked right back.
"Will you marry me?" Hannibal looked right into the blue eyes.
Will's heart skipped a beat. He was speechless for a moment. Of course Hannibal had asked him that before, but in that moment it felt like they were going to marry right that second.
"Of course I will, but where are we gonna get married?" he asked.
"Right here, Will, this is our church. Give me your hand."
Will offered his hand and Hannibal took his special bladed knife and cut a long cut on Will's hand and then cut his own hand.
"Fuck you! Ow!"
"Put them together."
"That's very romantic, baby..."
Hannibal held Will's bleeding hand together with his own and looked above them.
"Before you and this river… and this mountain… Hannibal, do you take Will to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and hold and treat right until you die?" He nodded. "I do." "Will, do you take Hannibal to be your..." That's when a car passed by full of people screaming at them, interrupting the moment. The both of them glared at them with deadly eyes. "I'm not gonna murder anybody on our wedding day," Will said. "I do. For all eternity. Until you and I die, and die and die again..." "Til death do us part." Hannibal completed, putting two red rings on their fingers. "Yes!" Will exclamed, excited. "By the power vested in me, as God of my world… I pronounce us husband and husband."In Baltimore, Maryland, Jack Crowford was finally released from the hospital. Even though the doctors said he should rest, his mind couldn't do it. He needed to find Hannibal, he needed to find Will. He knew they weren't dead and he had heard some of their conversation in the kitchen; not very clearly, but well enough to understand they were coming to terms. What the terms were, he did not know, yet.
It took him weeks, almost months, but he did find a trace of where Hannibal could be. He had this feeling in his gut; he knew Hannibal enough to know where he could have flown to away from everything he knew in the United States. He did his research and had found a doctor with similar characteristics, obviously under a fake name, living in Florence. That was his destination, then.
Like any professional and intelligent agent of the FBI, Jack lurked around for the doctor in the Italian city. It was hard to find him, even though he had found where he worked, until he discovered he was attending to his clients at home. He made up a fake name and made an appointment to meet the doctor.
What Jack didn't know was that Hannibal was aware of who that "patient" would be; and every plan he had made with Abigail and Will had to change drastically, because of him. Hannibal and Will, with Abigail, sat in the living room and made a plan together. A plan that couldn't fail. Jack was an old friend but they couldn't trust him anymore. Not after Hannibal had almost killed the man in his kitchen. It was a heartbreaking plan, but it had to be done, for the sake of the three of them.
On the day of the appointment, Hannibal and Will had already packed their bags and left Abigail to take care of the house. They left her money enough, and everything was taken care of. Hannibal and Will fled at dawn and Abigail was left alone in the house, not sure what she was supposed to feel, all alone. She knew it wasn't going to be forever, but for the while she would be alone she felt a little unsafe. After all, her parents were gone; for a while, now, for their marriage. After that they would be together again.
In the middle of the afternoon, Jack rang the bell. After a little while Abigail opened the door; Jack was speechless for a while.
"Abigail?" he asked, not really believing in what his eyes were seeing.
"They're gone, Jack; you won't find them. We were living a happy life until you left the hospital and came here to get them," she said casually, opening the door a little more, "Would you like to come in?" she asked.
They spent the next hour talking about the life they were living in Florence together. She was honest with him, more than what Hannibal liked her to be. Jack, as a friend, nodded and tried to understand. He wanted to catch Hannibal, of course, and now even Will, who was with him. But… in a way… he still felt friendship towards the other two, and sorry about Abigail.
After a long talk and when dusk was coming down the hills, they came to an agreement. Jack wouldn't look for them anymore. He would let them live their lives together, especially now that they had basically adopted Abigail, who was still a shock to him to be alive. She had convinced him to leave them be; as a family, and he, as their friend.