Amour Chapter Three
"The morning greets you, my dove. It's time to begin a new day." Hannibal opened the curtains of the room, allowing light to infiltrate my sanctuary. As much of a sanctuary as it could be, at any rate.
"Please, Monsieur Hannibal, tell me you shan't tell a soul of my Jewish heritage!" I tried to reason with the anthropophagite, but he said nothing. He just stood at the window, staring into the dawn. I began to tear up again and I felt my cracked rib throb in protest.
"Now, now, dove. There's no need to cry. I have a request for you freedom already. There is not a thing offered except the freedom of myself from charges." I trembled as he chuckled. Nothing seemed sincere with this man. Everything was cold, everything was unforgiving, and everything was hard.
"Please, Monsieur Hannibal, you must find it in your heart to just let me go free. There is no reason for my being here. It benefits neither of us!" I aimed to appeal to his sense of humanity, but I foolishly forgot he had none.
"Oh, my dove. My sweet, sweet colombe. You shan't be set free to spread your wings just yet, oh no. I shan't allow it." He came forth from the window and took my head into his folded legs, carding his fingers through my hair.
"You act as a lover, monsieur, but how can you do so when you have no heart?" I dared not try and escape, though, for fear he might pull at my hair again.
"I have a heart. My aunt, I love her with my whole heart. My sister, I loved her as well. Look at what happened to those I loved. My parents died, my sister was eaten in the most sinister of ways." He fisted my hair in his hand, now. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.
"Maybe if I do the same to your piteous loved ones, you will understand what I must go through."
"You already killed them, monsieur. Do not forget that you also ate them." I tried not to focus on the fact that, even though he didn't seem human, he radiated warmth that was almost comforting in the face of the death of everyone I held dear.
Almost as if a dam was breaking, the fact that my parents were dead hit me. Tears poured down my face and in an instant I was clutching the nearest person I could find. Their murderer.
"Why, Monsieur Hannibal? Why did you have to kill them?" I clawed at his vest as he did nothing but hold me.
"Did I not already explain this to you, dear? Your father, he killed Mischa and boiled her. Then, with the broth from her corpse, they fed me. They saved me from death with the boiled flesh of my sister." His hands no longer held gently, they now held as if I was his last lifeline to sanity. I sadly believed that the statement was true.
"Now, my dove. I never got your name." His demeanor changed so suddenly, I recoiled sharply.
"My name is Sasha." The lips on my neck were rather disconcerting.
"Alright, my Sasha, I was supposed to tell you that breakfast was ready about, oh, I'd say twenty minutes ago. Let us go and eat." He lifted me from his lap and helped me off of the bed. My clothing from the previous day was bedraggled and in no condition to dine with the beautiful mistress of the house.
"Lady Murasaki, our guest has awoken." He led me, once again, by the small of my back.
"Greetings, and good morning. Under normal circumstances I would welcome you to our home, but it seems Hannibal has had other plans." Lady Murasaki was as polite as she was beautiful.
"I thank you for your welcoming. It has not been a terrible time, but…it was not the most pleasant either." I bit my lip and braced for pain. Hair-yanking, or those lips again at my throat, teeth bared. Nothing, though, but a hand pressing more insistently on my back.
"Well, come eat with us, breakfast is getting cold." She led us to a small table, more suited to two than to three. It was a typical Japanese breakfast, filled with rice. We ate with chopsticks, which were new to me, so Hannibal, ever the gentleman of a kidnapper, helped me in using them. The food was marvelous, rich, exquisite, but it left me with quite an upset stomach. So once again, the familiar hand of my capturer was on my back and I was led to my room.
"Well, my Sasha, you seemed rather hungry. Are you feeling quite better?" He smirked, sitting beside my bed.
"Actually, Monsieur, I'm feeling quite worse. My stomach is quite ill." I bit my lip to silence myself from anything further.
"Ah, you could probably use a bath, am I correct? Come, Sasha, I'll draw one for you." He grasped my wrist this time as he led me through the labyrinth of a home to an exquisite restroom. Once again richly furnished, the bath was lined with gold leaf.
"Oh, I couldn't bathe in here. It's much too-" I was cut off as he sealed off the drain and turned on the tap.
"Nonsense. You are feeling ill, and a hot bath always helps, correct?" Hannibal then commented on asking Lady Murasaki for clothing, and was gone from the washroom in a matter of seconds.
I perched on the rim of the bathtub and waited, humming a song. When Hannibal returned, he was carrying a fleecy towel and another beautiful dress.
"Your undergarments, I'm afraid, will have to be worn again. Lady Murasaki and you are… different sizes…to put it lightly." He set the dress on the sink's rim and the towel he hung above the tub. As he leaned above me to do so, he pressed against me a little too hard, and as a result, I plummeted into the steaming tub.
Shrieking, I felt my clothing soaking through. I attempted to clamber over the edge, but in the end, soaking cold and quite upset, Hannibal pulled me out.
"A thousand apologies, my dove, I didn't mean for that to be the end result." He then turned on heel and said, "Well, it seems you may need new undergarments after all. I'll see if there's anything Lady Murasaki can spare." He walked out again, and I was left dripping over the tub. What happened next, I cannot quite put my finger on, but my mind set to work thinking this whole ordeal was funny.
Suddenly, I was giggling so hard my stomach ached. Then, when I'd quite had my fun, I set about trying to find a way to dry myself. The first option that came to my head was to strip off the heavier layers of my dress. After that I found myself wishing I had them on. The water had begun to cool and I was left shivering and wishing for the warmth of the bathwater again.
"Here are your…under…garments may I ask what you're doing?" Hannibal seemed a little perplexed as he deposited my undergarments atop my dress. I bit my lip and started to explain my predicament, but he held up a hand to silence me. He just smirked and shook his head, signaling that he had no intention of knowing what I had done.
"I will be outside in the garden if you need me. You are free to explore the entire house, but do not go into the basement." On that note, he left me to go about my business.
I finished undressing and sunk into the bathtub, letting the warmth flow over me as the ocean flows over a shore. Sighing, I reached for the soap and washed myself as clean as I could. I'm not quite sure how long the bath took, but I enjoyed every second of it.
A knock sounded against the door, and I jumped.
"Um, who is it?" My voice wavered, shocked by the sudden intrusion. There was a light, almost musical voice that answered.
"Hannibal wanted me to check on you." Lady Murasaki whispered through the door, as if hiding a secret. I was just about to question the statement when I heard another pair of footsteps and then Hannibal's voice entered the acoustics of the room.
"I think it's time you get our of the bathtub, Sasha, or you might wrinkle." I could hear the smirk set on my kidnapper's lips.
"But Monsieur Hannibal, I haven't yet finished washing." I retorted.
"Well, you might want to hurry, or I shall come in and wash you myself." I giggled, startled to hear my own voice.
"Yes, Monsieur Hannibal." I stepped out of the tub, wrapping the fluffy towel around myself. After I clothed myself, I looked for a comb, but couldn't find one.
I bit my lip, but instead of searching the drawers, I went without it, foregoing the neat silkiness of freshly brushed hair for the refreshing air of a shower.
"Are you quite finished, yet, Sasha?" Hannibal queries one again.
"Oh, my apologies, Monsieur Hannibal!" I hurriedly drew the stopper from the drain and began mopping up the floor. I wasn't quite sure what to do with the towel, so I folded it, set it on the rim of the sink, and opened the door. Turning to face the hallway, I saw Hannibal leaning comfortably against the wall.
"May I inquire what took so long?" He questioned.
"Je suis désolé, Monsieur Hannibal. I didn't realize I had taken so long. I apologize." I wasn't certain what to do, so I did nothing.
"I will lead you back to your room." He pronounced. I felt a somewhat uneasy, but followed him regardless.
"Must I stay in my room always, Monsieur Hannibal? It's so terribly dull." I licked my lips, afraid again for my safety. I felt it, those lips. They slid down my neck, and those hands pinned my arms above my head. I hadn't lied, so why had Hannibal-
I gasped.
"Hannibal! Wha-what are you doing?" He bit down harder and I felt that tongue lapping at the blood that trickled from my minute wound.
"Ah, your blood, my dove, it is…intoxicating." I trembled like a leaf in the wind, and Hannibal did nothing but continue to lap at my neck.
"Please, monsieur, stop!" I cried, attempting to push the foul murderer off of me. I had been a fool to think he was anything else. Speaking as a lover was false, no doubt, but his Lady of the house, and their hospitality… was that false as well?
"My little lady, is something wrong?" He looked up at me through his hair.
"Arrêt Monseiur!" I screamed. Again, those lips descended on mine, but I squirmed and made sure they would not come in contact with my own.
"Hannibal!" Came the curt shout. Lady Murasaki wrenched him away from me, and my eyes fluttered, before I slipped down the wall and lost consciousness.