Hannibal: The Golden Pen

Chapter 3

It was dark, and glum. A tunnel spiraled downwards, lit by the flames of torches. The walls and floor were made of stone, and the ceiling was not visible in the endless spirals of the stairs, small specks of light illuminating where the stairs were placed. Down the stairs the floor was just visible, cold and hard concrete. There was a short hallway, lined with but two doors, one on each side of the corridor. In one was but a well made bed, a desk and nightstand, and a shelf with a few books. Inside the room opposite of it was a man, outlined by the glow of a few candles lit within the room. The man sat at a desk, scattered with papers and pens. Along with the desk, there were chairs and shelves in the room, as well as a computer on a desk ajar to the one the man was sitting at.

The man was in a well designed suit, creased and cuffed to perfection. His shoes were polished and created a shine amongst the darkness in the room. His hair wasn't as tidy as his clothing; it was a bit wild, strands of it stuck up in the air, while the rest lay flat upon his crown. His brown eyes glinted as they intently watched his hand, gripping a pen and writing on a thin piece of paper. He was in deep concentration when, to his great dislike, he was interrupted by the sound of echoes of shoes hurrying down the stairs. A moment later a man stood in his doorway, dressed in a suit, though not as well-maintained as the other's, and his eyes were anxious.

"Dr. Vex…"

Dr. Vex looked up from his parchment, a grim smile on his face, waiting for an explanation.

"We've lost him."

The smile quickly vanished. "Take me to him, Marion."

Marion Giles nodded and Carter Vex stood from his desk, the paper still clutched in his hand, and they both walked out of the door. Up the hundreds of steps they walked, the torches' lights dancing upon the walls as they went. The walls appeared to have small pictures on them as they got higher and higher, though they were covered in molds and dust from lack of care. The men came to a small platform in the stairs, where a door was framed, and just after the door the stairs continued on in their eternal march to the sky. Marion opened the door and Dr. Vex stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

The room was poorly lit, but one candle blazed in the left corner. There were a few drawers where clothing was kept, and in the right corner was a brass bed. A body lay outlined in the bed, covered by the blankets and sheets. Dr. Vex slowly made his way to the bed, his hand outstretched before him. When he reached the bed side, he slowly pulled the covers away and revealed a man. His eyes had been shut for him, and his skin was pale. There was no rise in his chest, or sound of taking in breath from his lips or nose. Dr. Vex laid his hand upon the man's own hand, and sighed. That man had been his father, Brandon Vex. It had long since been his time to pass on, but it was unexpected when he did. Dr. Vex took a few minutes to just look at his late father, memories flashing in his mind from his childhood. His father had been the only one in his family to love him. His mother left his father, himself, and his younger brother when he had been but seven years of age. Shortly after she left, the courts gave her custody of his brother. He always felt he had been lucky, because only a few months later his mother and brother turned up dead. Both had been stabbed by the same knife, and the court decided that his mother had killed his brother and then committed suicide. It hadn't surprised him or his father that his mother would do such a thing. She'd never been quite right in the head. But it was that incident that had given him the privilege of being with his father, who loved him immensely.

Dr. Vex came back to himself and without hesitation pulled the blankets back over his father's body. He turned sharply and exited the room, where Marion stood, waiting. Dr. Vex turned his head to Marion.

"Get his body out of here."

Marion nodded and started to go up the stairs.

"And Marion," The other man turned around. "Give this check to the kind salesmen who sold me that revolving pistol."

//-//-//-//-//

Flying high up in the air was a plane headed towards the capital of China. Inside of it, Clarice gazed silently out of the window, which she'd decided to look out of after the plane had leveled out after taking off. Her eyes darted amongst the many clouds that the plane was passing through, all but fascinated. They had past the altitude that birds usually flew at, so there were no other life forms around the plane except perhaps other planes, passing by, though not in sight. Although Clarice was severely afraid of heights, there was a certain altitude she was alright with, and it happened to be where she was at. High up in an airplane was always calming to her, but when landing and taking off, it was a nerve racking experience. For now she was content to sit silently and continue to look out the window, enjoying the clouds.

Sitting beside her was Hannibal, his face gazing at a magazine filled with interesting items to his mind. On some pages there were nice caliber guns, and on others were pieces of music, there was even a low quality piano on one page, though it didn't capture Hannibal's attention, for he already owned a grand piano. There were fancy dining instruments as well. Thin, linen table cloths to put on tables, high class glasses for expensive wines, and a few fraud pass-offs of the rare dining knives he's been searching for.

The plane had been flying for hours upon hours when the speakers finally rang with the sound of the pilot's assistance announcing that they'd be landing soon and to re-buckle all seatbelts.

Hannibal glanced up from his magazine at this and put his magazine away. Beside him Clarice turned her eyes away from the window and pulled the sliding panel back down over it so she wouldn't have to look.

After half and hour of descending in altitude and landing and pulling into the gate boarding station, the plane stopped and passengers were allowed to leave. Hannibal stood up and stepped into the aisle and Clarice followed suit, pausing only to retrieve her suitcase from the cabinet above the row. After doing so she followed Hannibal down the aisle and into the hall that connected the plane to the airport. When they reached the airport Clarice found that nearly everyone in the port was Chinese and everything she saw was written in Chinese and everything else was in Chinese as well. She'd completely forgotten that she'd be having a bit of trouble communicating with anyone.

Hannibal turned to her and smiled. "Shall you liking a hotel, or a much finer place, my home?"

Clarice replied, "I think if I were to pick a hotel over your home I'd have a bit of trouble paying for anything."

Hannibal nodded, "Yes, you would indeed."

With that he turned and continued walking, and Clarice hurried after him, giving strange looks at everything she passed. Many Chinese shops outlined the corridors of the airport in Beijing, some had shirts and other clothing, some had souvenirs, and others, the ones Clarice was most interesting in, had a thick scent of food coming from them. Hannibal noticed how she kept gazing at all the food restaurants.

"Hungry?"

She nodded, "Very."

"Well, there's food at my home, you can eat there."

Clarice nodded again in agreement.

They walked on, out of the airport and into the mass of vehicles parked everywhere outside. Hannibal led onward, down rows of cars until he stopped at a Jaguar. Clarice wasn't surprised at his choice in car at all. She got in on the passenger side and Hannibal the driver side, and in moments the supercharged car was zipping away from the airport and onto the strange roads of Beijing. As they continued on the streets became thickly outlined by buildings set close together, and many people walked by on sidewalks. As they drove, Clarice looked at all the people they were passing, and she quickly caught the eyes of the same Chinese man who'd followed her to the airport in the black corvette and the same one who'd she'd seen at the airport back in America. The man was now walking past the Jaguar, and he wore black sunglasses to cover his eyes. Clarice swiftly averted her eyes, avoiding eye contact. To her fortune, Hannibal seemed not to have noticed, and he drove on without question.

Finally the Jaguar slowed down and pulled into an alley where Hannibal parked and turned it off. They both got out of the car and Hannibal beckoned with his hand for Clarice to follow. She did so and found that there was a door to a brick building along the sidewalk where they'd parked. Hannibal opened the door and Clarice went in, he followed and closed the door behind him.

Clarice looked around and the lights were switched on. It was a beautiful home, decorated as if Hannibal were still in Italy, she supposed, for nothing in it was Chinese as was the world outside. There was a kitchen, a room with a TV, another room where a piano and music booklets were kept on shelves, and there was an exquisite dining room that was already set. Clarice supposed that it was always set though. There were stairs that led up to more rooms, and when she looked up Hannibal's voice came from the kitchen.

"Your room, Clarice, is up the stairs and to the right."

She went up the stairs, her suitcase in hand, and turned to the right before stopping. She looked over her shoulder at the other door, on the left. She wondered what was inside it, but she knew better than to prowl, and so she ignored the urge to have a look and went into her own room. There was a well made bed, nightstand, drawers for her clothes and a door to a bathroom on the right wall. She smiled at the cozy looking room and began unpacking her clothes and categorizing them into her drawers. Shirts and bras in the top drawer, underclothes and pants in the bottom, socks on the right, and that left the drawer on the left empty. She wondered for a second and then decided to put her pajamas in it. After all her clothes were sorted, she moved on to the bathroom, where she placed her toothbrush and toothpaste by the sink, along with the deodorant.

After she was completely finished unpacking, she put her suitcase on its back and pushed under the bed. Smiling at her work, she clapped her hands together and decided it was time to go back downstairs and found that the dinner table had fancy food on it now, and she sat down just as Hannibal walked in from the kitchen with a smile. Clarice smiled thankfully at him and then began eating, and it tasted scrumptious. Yep, I can get used to this. She thought in a much more relaxed fashion than she would've expected.