Epiphany

Chapter Two

Emilio Dominguez walked in with a sense of pride, his black eyes moving over the Doctor's office rapidly. He was making note of little details that he could use against the cannibalistic Dr. Lecter. The room was neat, spacious, a fake diploma hung up on the wall with Doctor Anthony Poverelli written across in big, bold, dark letters. There was a small desk in the corner that was bare on top expect for a small notebook that seemed quite empty. There was a couch up against the wall and various paintings hung up. The windows were kept open and Emilio could feel the soft breeze against his cheek. He glanced at Dr. Lecter and kept his gaze, which was unnerving to most, on him. However, Dr. Lecter returned the cool gaze expect out of deep maroon eyes with pinpoints of brighter red that danced in the sunlight. Dr. Lecter was older then Emilio had thought, he was about sixty but he kept the Doctor's crimes in his mind. Hannibal Lecter was not a man that you underestimated.

"Sit down, Mr. Dominguez." Dr. Lecter said, his metallic voice unnerved Emilio for a moment but then he fingered the knife in his pocket and smiled. The blade in his pocket kept him relaxed, he felt powerful with the weapon and he was sure Dr. Lecter felt the same way as he was bent over a victim, ready to take their life with his harpy. That sense of power, of being the one in control.

"Alright, Doctor..." For a moment, Emilio had almost said Lecter but caught himself. He wondered if Lecter had noticed.

"What brings you here today, Emilio? May I call you that? Or would you rather Mr. Dominguez?" Dr. Lecter spoke slowly as if Emilio couldn't understand. Why the fuck not, Lecter? I'm sure that you will be screaming that name through your tears for mercy, Doctor.

"Emilio." Emilio pauses and keeps his black gaze on the doctor, trying to make him nervous. Why the fuck am I here, Lecter? Maybe it is to tell you that your goddamned bastard son is shitting in his pants from fear on Mason's private jet. Oh no, but I won't tell you that. I'll you something else. Emilio thinks for a moment, and then he speaks quite slowly, his voice level. Emilio Dominguez is a good liar. "Honestly, Doctor, I've been having thoughts of suicide."

The doctor eyes him suspiciously and the same thought that came across Clarice, enters his mind as well. Why was a Puerto Rican or perhaps Cuban born male in Milan but obviously wearing American clothes and speaking English so fluently? He recognized the deep Spanish accent; he seemed to hesitate before answering the Doctor. A good liar perhaps, the Doctor had wondered. Dr. Lecter could smell him, gun powder. The subtle trace of the residue of a gun. He seemed to bathe in it. Emilio Dominguez seemed to bathe in slaughter and death. Who have you killed, Emilio Dominguez, Dr. Lecter wondered. He inhaled once more. Blood. The coppery smell of blood, it was still evident on him. Who are you, Emilio?

"Any thoughts to why, Emilio? How is your personal life?" Dr. Lecter asked the Hispanic after he pulled out of his thoughts. Emilio responded quickly.

"My alcoholic wife left me. That tramp. I'm alone and obsessed and I can't get death out of my mind."

That was partially true. His wife had left him, well, in reality, Emilio had killed her. He was obsessed, with death and slaughter and the easy act of torture. And Emilio was alone, in his own tormented mind. So in essence, Emilio Dominguez had not lied to the Doctor at all. Just….distorted the truth a bit and hadn't added in all the facts. Dr. Lecter frowned at the word tramp, he did not like obscene language and he disliked the Hispanic more that he had used such a vulgar word. If he hadn't given up killing, Lecter would have made Emilio Dominguez number one on his target list.

"May I inquire as to what you are obsessed with?" Emilio grinned, hoping for that question.

"Hannibal Lecter." He responds sharply, smiling madly. Dr. Lecter narrows his red gaze upon the Hispanic man. He is not nervous. He moves to his feet and slowly locks the door. Emilio had not been expecting that. Lecter whirls around to face the Hispanic, his eyes still narrowed on him. He stands on his feet and for once, Emilio feels intimidated and slightly weaker. But the knife in his pocket reassures him. Only a matter of time.

"Emilio Dominguez. A murderer of, hmm, I'm not quite sure. But you have certainly spilt blood. A Hispanic male, Cuba or Puerto Rico, tell me Emilio. Now tell me, who are you exactly?" Hannibal says this sharply, quite sharply actually. His words could have been more dangerous then his harpy lingering in his pocket.

"You know too much, Hannibal. I am exactly who I say I am. Emilio Dominguez, age 44. Employee of a certain twisted billionaire by the name of…"

"Mason Verger."

"Ah, I suppose you met that fucking disgusting piece of filth that happens to pay my bills. Nice work on his face, I must admit. Isn't he incredibly attractive, Lecter?" Hannibal Lecter is on his feet and walking towards him. Emilio notices the glint of silver in his right hand. The infamous harpy comes out to play.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You have a dirty mouth, Mr. Dominguez. I find that incredibly rude and I suppose you know my reputation. And yes, I do happen to agree with you. He is quite a vision, isn't he? I happen to think he is quite attractive without a face. If you are into that sort of thing."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Lecter." Amusement dances upon Lecter's features. He grins and stops for a moment. Emilio hadn't even risen from his seat. He doesn't even seem afraid, Lecter wonders why. He watches him for a moment, not quite sure why this Emilio Dominguez was so bold.

"May I inquire as to why, Emilio?"

"Leonardo Poverelli. We have your fucking son, Lecter. And he's on a one way flight to that pedophile Mason Verger's estate. You kill me and you'll never find him again. Now put down the fucking harpy, and maybe you'll see that brat again. Maybe after Verger has some fun with him." Emilio says quickly but rather confidently. He rises from his feet and realizes he is slightly taller then the older psychotic Doctor.

Hannibal has become rather serious, his face hardening with the realization of what happened. He cocks his head to the side, still unaware of why he needs to keep Emilio Dominguez alive. Leonardo was going to Mason Verger's estate and he knew where that was. Mason couldn't leave the state so he doubted it was somewhere other then what he thought. What are you playing at, Emilio? Perhaps Mason Verger set you up. The bastard.

"I still don't see why I have to keep you alive? I believe your bluffing; I do not have to keep you alive at all. I know where Mason Verger estate is and I suppose my son is on the plane already. Give me one reason why I shouldn't gut you like a fish? Hmm? Please enlighten me, Emilio. I'm dying to know why."

"Because…." Emilio paused and he came to the realization that he didn't know anything. He was told Hannibal had met Mason Verger on his previous estate before he had peeled his face off. That Lecter didn't know where Mason Verger's estate was and that without Emilio; he would never see his son again. Emilio realized that he had been set up. Mason Verger set him on a suicide mission. They didn't need him at all. Hannibal Lecter and his wench Clarice would take the bait and go to his estate and are killed by others there. Mason Verger was just saving money but killing him off. Goddamnit.

Emilio inhaled sharply, he felt the cold sharpness of steel stabbed into his gut. It was painful to breathe. He looked up to see Lecter's dancing features and he gave a sardonic smile and quickly removed the harpy from his body. Emilio felt like one of his victims, he half expected Lecter to tear off his face with his teeth but Lecter just watched as he faded away. He couldn't manage words, he couldn't manage anything. He fell to the floor and saw the doctor scowl from blurry vision. He saw the Doctor pull out a cloth and wipe the harpy clean. Lecter wasn't too amused with the Hispanic. In fact, he was tempted to kill him even more horrendously. But he stopped himself. Emilio never felt such pain; it was difficult to do anything. The wound was bleeding profusely. He saw the Doctor shaking his head sadly.

"You are certainly going to stain my carpet. I fear I dislike you more with each passing second." He went to his knees and whispered into his victim's ear. "You should certainly pray that I find Leonardo in time, or you are going to be wishing you were dead."

Emilio didn't understand this for a moment but then realized. He was going to be kept alive. The wound wouldn't kill him but just cause an incredible amount of pain. It was ingenious, actually. Lecter watches him with hatred, anger and taps him lightly with his foot. He's never lusted blood so much before. He felt he was twenty again and he was revenging Mischa's murder once more. Grinning, he slashes his own palm and let his blood fall to the carpet. The blood drips from his palm quickly and Hannibal's face pales as he loses more blood. He knows the police wouldn't believe two deaths but it could stall the investigation for a few weeks. Why had Hannibal cut his own palm? Or did some else cause the wounds? Hannibal had also known that Emilio wouldn't hesitate to give up Hannibal. He again returns to his knees and slashes his victim's throat, not deep enough to kill him but in the right place to damage his vocal cords. It was a long shot but Hannibal was pressed for time. Ultimately, they would have to leave Milan. Hannibal frowned, he had heard Greece or perhaps Spain was beautiful. Or perhaps London. Emilio Dominguez and Mason Verger were just an annoying inconvenience.

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Hannibal walks quickly from the room and never looked back at the still but alive bronze body of Emilio Dominguez, murderer of five and for lack of better terms, Mason Verger's puppet. The title of bitch was awarded to the one and only, Cordell. Oddly enough, Hannibal's heart was moving fast within his body, he was growing intensely worried. He did have a love for his son and of course, his wife, Clarice Starling. But Hannibal knew he did have time. Mason wouldn't harm his son in anyway before Hannibal and Clarice arrived, Verger was looking for them and he wouldn't harm the bait. At least not…physically. Hannibal had a new, increasing worry. Mason Verger was and forever shall be a pedophile. And that worried Hannibal.

Blood still stained Hannibal's hand, his own blood continued to seep out from his wound and Emilio's blood had soaked both his hands and a small part of his shirt. As he walked, or rather, ran out of his office towards Clarice's desk, she gasps. Her eyes bulge and for a moment, she is entirely confused. She was already on her feet and was silent for a moment. Hannibal disappears through the bathroom and moments later returns bloodless and with a new, clean shirt on. Still, they do not speak and Clarice watches him, speechless. Hannibal however, is thinking. Dissecting the events of today, figuring out a plan. He finally looks at her and sighs sharply before speaking.

"Emilio Dominguez is a twisted man as is his employer, the billionaire Mason Verger."

Clarice inhales sharply, and breathes hard through her nose. She had little doubt that an Emilio Dominguez lay on the floor of Hannibal's office, dead and perhaps half eaten. She had hoped that Hannibal had abandoned his cannibalistic ways, but for a man like Emilio Dominguez, she didn't care either way.

"You killed him, Hannibal?" She states the obvious and mistakenly uses his real name but he doesn't bother to correct her.

"No, Clarice. I simply….wounded him severely. The police should arrive soon, once his body is discovered."

"You didn't kill him? Why the fuck not? He's here to kill us, Hannibal. He's working for Verger! And you didn't kill that son of a bitch. Well, I will!" Clarice jumps to her feet and Hannibal narrows his frightening maroon eyes at her and she breathes hard, scared and nervous.

"Clarice, sit down." He says this very sharply but keeps his voice level and low. He had never spoken sharply to her before and she was beginning to wonder if there was more to the story. Of course there was. "Clarice, we are leaving for the airport momentarily. Remain calm about this. They have Leonardo and he's on a one way flight to Baltimore to meet the bastard billionaire himself."

She sits stunned and her cerulean eyes begin to fill up with tears, they drop from her cheeks and her body shakes a bit. She bites her bottom lip and jumps to her feet, and retrieves the loaded gun from her bottom draw. She glances at Hannibal sharply.

"I'm going to fucking kill that son of a bitch."

"I was thinking the same thing, Clarice."

The two worried parents left the office quickly with the body of Emilio Dominguez, still alive but unconscious lying still in the Doctor's office. They were off to the airport to leave for Baltimore and that sick son of a bitch, Mason Verger would pay deeply. And Hannibal suspected that he wasn't going to be the one to kill him. He never saw such hatred in Clarice's eyes and he never sensed such a lust for blood in her either. Mason Verger didn't know what pain was, but he would learn, momentarily.

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Hm, I rather like this chapter. I'm not sure if the part with Hannibal 'injuring' Emilio would have been accurate but I'm not a doctor so I wouldn't know. Well onto chapter three, yes? Hm, three chapters at a time. I wonder if I should have submitted them one at a time.