Note - Again I apologise for any mishap on how to cook steaks. I am a vegetarian so this is territory I would rather stay clear of!

The Lions Mouth

Ah yes Dr. Chillton. Gruesome isn't he? Fumbles at your head like a freshman pulling at a panty girdle.

The image of the boy was nothing but another face that he easily slipped into his virtual filing cabinet in the back of his mind. Sliding the hand-made woven basket up his arm so that he was able to hold it more firmly, he slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his expensive suit. Pulling out a single key which held no key ring he slipped it into the lock twisted his wrist and stepped into his home which was warmed thanks to the fire, that he left burning over some decaying logs sure he had enough money to have the heating on but the smell of a fire reminded him of the many winter nights he would stay in his family's home before the war came. He showed no sign of emotion as he heard the faint laughter of his younger sister and instead closed the door lightly behind him, heading towards the large kitchen that every women would dream of having so that the wine would be able to chill before he would serve it to his guests. Placing the woven basket down gently as he picked out the ingredients that he would use he slapped his hands, together as he rubbed his palms and smiled.

"Okie dokie, let's make dinner."

Three hours later

Standing in front of a spotless cooker with three pans over angry blue flames and a large metal tray busy spitting, in the mouth of the oven, Hannibal almost looked comical with his italian designer shirt tucked into his black sleek trousers, and a deep blue knee-length apron tied firmly into a double knot which rested against his lower back. In his left hand he held lightly on a spatula which he moved from one pan to the other either to either stir the herbs and spices, to insure that they wouldn't become burnt; at this thought Hannibal picked up a bottle of cooking red wine and added a small morsel not enough to make his guests feel light-headed but enough, that it would give the herbs that extra kick in flavour. Glancing at the large pan which was housing five steaks Hannibal used his many skills and managed to flip them over causing only a small, spit of oil to land onto his apron. The bases were turning a nice brown; the good thing about his guests was that they weren't picky and were more than willing to try new things, he also knew after two years of serving the food to the same people that they liked their meat medium rare. On the smaller pan which was barely getting touched by the blue flame was his stake, it still looked pink though the edges were turning a light bark tree brown, it was going to be extra rare. Hannibal knew that now he would prefer to serve up his guests the many useable organs from the butcher but to kill him so quickly, and with a possible witness was far to risky.

As Hannibal moved himself back to open the oven door he was paused by a voice that reminded him of a freshman wearing footballer clothing even, though they had no experience of the sport what so over. He forced himself to stay calm as he turned himself around on the balls of his heels to address one of his guests, his hand remained on the handle of the over door to show that he was in the middle of something.

"Good evening Lecter. The herd is getting rather restless so I was wondering if I could fill up their water trophs?"

Not being in a talkative mood Hannibal only nodded his head as he grabbed onto the unopened bottle of wine and handed it back to his guest, watching as the man grabbed onto a bottle opener without even muttering a thank you he left the good Doctor in peace. Blinking his maroon eyes like he was cutting an onion he opened the door slipped on some over gloves and pulled out the heavy tray, he balanced it in the palm of his hand as he handed some mushrooms knowing that the: potatoes, carrots, butter nut squash were already cooked enough and mushrooms didn't take that long to roast. Sliding it back in as he closed the door he looked at his stakes as he placed his hands against the edge of the counter closed his eyes, and inhaled the fumes around him he didn't miss the smell of his cooking but that wasn't what he was looking out for.

In the next room where the large roaring fire was built into the wall, a rich red rug covered a sleek wooden floor allowing the high-heeled shoes of the female guests to be heard throughout the large home. Each person wore a rich shade of black with either golden or silver bracelets, necklaces and ear rings. Their perfume was enough to confuse a wild boar and their makeup could only be found in the least earth friendly shopping mall to be found in the heart of America. Ignoring the many scented fumes of crushed flowers and beetle juice there was another scent in the air, one of fear. It made his brow furrow in confusion he always welcomed his guests with open arms: metaphorically speaking of course. And answered their humour with a open mouth grin to show off his impressive teeth, slowly he pealed open his eyelids to expose his red swimming eyes there was a mouse in his den what would become of this mouse was unknown to him, first he would have address the situation with care and then strike. As he looked down at the stakes he could tell by the smell and the sharp sound of hissing and spitting that they were certainly done and ready to be served, to his hungry guests.

It didn't take long for the guests to sit themselves down accordingly at the large dinner table, each person holding a glass of wine and laughing about one thing or another. Instead of there being many knives and forks there was only set, truth be told tonight they were only have one course which would be the main followed by some coffee, as the opera was starting rather late tonight and so instead of acting like a bunch of teenagers and staying round Dr. Lecter's humble home they had agreed to meet and dine and then head off to the opera, this way they could be sure that none of the rumbling of empty stomachs coming from the audience would be from them. As Hannibal walked in carrying three plates which he set in front of the women and then returned, with the rest of the plates which he set in front of the men followed by himself he stood at the end of the table asking if any of his guests would like a top up, the women placed their hands delicately over their glasses and shook their heads claiming something like:

"Though the wine compliments the dinner they didn't wish to miss any high-spirited taste of his cooking."

The men seemed to agree which meant that Hannibal was able to place a basket of freshly baked french bread in the center of the table with a tray of butter, and some salad along with two bowls that had different sauces in them along with the bottle of wine indicating that if his guests would like a top up they were more than welcome to help themselves. Placing himself in the chair at the other end of the table so that he was sat between two beautiful women, he tucked himself in rose his head and spoke formally:

"Bon appetite."

He heard a muffled response followed by the sound of forks and knives lightly cutting into the perfectly cooked steaks, Hannibal took his napkin placed it on his lap and sliced open the steak causing the blood to flow freely but it was soon absorbed by the roasted vegetables and a small dollop of mash that was extra creamy.