Disclaimers: I do not own Hannibal Lecter nor do I own William Graham.
A/N: Man… I've updated this one again… HEHE... well the Ripper has struck but whom?
A/N/2: to the stony Clarice robot thingy… I tried to get to know here but I am having a hard time but anyhow I've tried…
"Are you sure?" Jack questioned, he himself hoping that the news he just received was nothing more than a lie.
"Yes sir. They're dead…" replied the agent in Oregon.
Jack nodded to himself and hung up the phone. He turned to Bloom with sadness in his eyes. He didn't like what he heard but he knew that this information could save the investigation no matter how hard it was to hear that there were two more deaths.
"What happened?" Bloom asked. He knew the look on Jack's face. He sensed the foreboding aura.
"Oregon called and the Ripper struck a woman and her son. The Ripper killed Molly and Josh."
Xoxoxoxooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxoxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Clarice smiled to herself the wave's splash and splash upon the sand. Hannibal was in the house writing a response to the Ripper. She has lived a happy and fun life with Lecter. She loved being in the country she was now in. She admired its beauty and she admires its wildness. She loved freedom's beauty.
Life with Lecter has been amazing if not somewhat a little cold. But she could live with it. She after all could make any intriguing and clever comebacks just as cold as Lecter's. She was skilled at fanning his anger but cooling it with her humor and her clever words.
The sex was actually quite interesting. They would do it anywhere at anytime. She had never thought at first that a man like Lecter could do the stuff he did but then again he was Hannibal. Hannibal Lecter is a skilled man. She laughed to herself and sat down. She would wait until Hannibal was done in his office.
Xoxooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxoxxxx
Hannibal was indeed writing. He was slow but purposely. He enjoyed the letter that he received from the Ripper and enjoyed the letter he had given Graham. He was in his time to respond to the Ripper. And he responded:
To the darling Ripper,
I must confess that at first I never knew you existed in this malformed world. And now with you out of hiding I know I can really turn myself around and admire you work.
What experiments do you undertake? I have a feeling already that I will enjoy them. Your skill with taking the life force out of people is much to admire and respect. I would definitely love to meet you but then again when duty calls… duty calls. I am sorry my letter could not be as long and creative as yours but do know that I wish thee well.
Hannibal Lecter.
Xoxoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxo
An hour after his shower Graham got a call from Jack Crawford. He remembered the number and wanted not to answer but he couldn't. The case of the Ripper had stricken him. And the letters by Lecter also did the job. All he knew was that even though he helped for some things that doesn't mean he would take the offer.
"I'm sorry Jack," he apologized. "I can't do this. You got to find some one else to take the Ripper down. I can't do it at all."
"Please I beg of you to reconsider my offer." Jack pled. He sighed when he heard no reply from Will. "---" He was about to say something else but Will hung up on him.
He couldn't believe about how persistent Crawford was. He knew in his heart that he would not help. No matter what he feared. No matter what he despised. He would not return to hunting serial killers.
He sat on his couch with a beer in his hand. He took his remote and turned his television on and started surfing the channels. He found nothing to watch until he stopped at the channel 707 HD and his world came falling apart.
Newscaster: A woman in her thirties and a young boy at the age of 12 has been killed in their home down in Oregon.
The pictures of their
once alive self shocked Graham. He couldn't believe what he was
seeing. Molly and Josh were dead. They were all dead. Dead. Oh,
how he hated the word.
Newscaster: It seems that these two
innocent people were killed by the Ripper.
They were dead. Will's mind suddenly with black. He visibly paled and was instantly torn. He loved both Molly and Josh very much and now to realize that they are dead by some killer was just too heartbreaking.
Newscaster: No, other details are ready for viewing at this moment. All I can say is my heart goes out to the family of the woman and the young boy.
He turned off the television and let out a low powerful distraught scream. It was all going wrong. They weren't supposed to be touched by what he used to do. They weren't supposed to be victims. He cried out in terror and frustration. "NOO!" he screamed and he didn't care if anyone heard his tormented cries. It wasn't fair! They weren't supposed to end like they did! Why? He wanted to know why. He screamed and cried and wept uncontrollably. The fear inside himself was resurfacing along with the rush of a new heartbreak entered his confused mind. He lost them. They were gone. "Ah, noooooooooooooooooo!" he cried, he felt the air around him lessen. He felt himself stiffen in shock. He couldn't move and he couldn't breathe. There was nothing left for him.
His home phone started to ring. Ring! Ring! Ring! His lips pursed into a thin line as he squeezed his eyes closed as tight as he can. He didn't want to talk. He wasn't able to talk. The two most important people in his life were gone. He felt weak. He felt fear. He felt nothing. Why? Why were they gone? Those two questions were repeatedly asked inside. He knew it was useless to doubt. He really wanted to but he knew the truth. They were really gone. And at last he was truly alone.
Xoxooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxoxoxoxx
In Oregon Special Agent Lucy Fitzgerald and her partner Chris Townsend had left from Salem to a small town near the city of Nampa. They were staring down at the fallen body of Molly Chanson.
She was lying in her living room floor which was made of tiles that shined and shined because of constant bleaching and cleaning. Her blackish-brown hair was cut from her. The blood that surrounded her was clearly touched by a hand that drew a circle around her sprawled body. She was shot in the ribs and in the foot but that didn't cause her death. Her brown eyes seemed to stare straight back at them. Her mouth stapled shut and bruises all over her body. She seemed to have given quite a fight.
"She didn't die from the bullet didn't she?" Chris asked. He put on his glove and touched Molly's neck. He noticed the bruising and the marks. She had died from strangulation.
"Strangulation…." Lucy said. "But from what?"
"From this!" Both agents turn to the speaker and nodded at the agent who did the pictures and drawings.
"Yeah, Tony?" Chris asked, wishing that he called the day off.
Tony pulled out a belt and replied, "This leather belt was forcefully put around the victim's next and pulled. The air was cut out from her. She didn't have the chance."
"Who died first?" Lucy asked herself glancing sadly at Molly's lifeless body.
The Chief Medical Examiner called June was now standing next to Lucy. He nodded in observance and sadly admitted, "The mother did. It seems the boy watched her be killed."
Lucy gasped. What person would do that to a human being? She didn't know what to think. She's dealt with a lot of crazy and horrible stuff but not that. She turned to Chris when she hears him growl.
"The bastard wanted to show off to the boy and then killed him next." Chris hissed in anger. He stood up and continued, "Where's the boy?"
June walked towards the master bathroom followed by Chris and Lucy. He pointed to the trail of bloody footprints. "The boy wasn't hurt. The footprints were of the assailant not the victim's."
"The Ripper was chasing the boy wasn't he?" Chris asked. The thought of a scared twelve running away from a madman made Chris shudder inside. No, he thought, this guy's not a madman… He's the devil incarnated.
They reached the master bathroom and were caught with the haunting sight of the boy called Josh sitting in the shower with his legs curled up and his arms around them with blood all over him. His eyes were stabbed and his feet stabbed to the floor.
"The eyes and the feet were postmortem. He died from a soft yet intricate piercing to his heart." June shook his head. "He slowly bled out."
"Time of death?" Lucy and Chris said at the same time.
"His mother was killed about one thirty p.m. And the boy…" he pointed at the sad figure and said, "… an hour after his mother…"
"It's five fifty now." Chris said as he looked at his watch. "We got the call about twenty minutes ago so that means the boy was killed around two thirty."
The Medical Examiner nodded in agreement. Chris looked to Lucy. He continued saying, "It takes some time to get back on the freeway further into Oregon but then again there's an easy way out since we're so close to Idaho…"
"The Ripper could have gone anywhere." Lucy exhaustedly said.
"I know. I know." Chris assured, he was slightly irritated but kept it in. "He could have tried to fly off to some other state or country. He could of drove off to Idaho, Washington, California, Nevada, and Montana… Too many could of's I know but that's all I can think about."
June decided to cut in saying, "Did you call the HQ in Quantico?"
"Yeah, we told him everything. And no he still is trying to get that William Graham to help us out but it doesn't seem to be working." Chris replied. He looked around at the room and shook his head. All he could think about was the waste of so many potential was bled away by an atrocious man.
"You think this Graham can do it?" Lucy asked. She heard of the "Special Investigator" that Quantico gave to the man. She knew that this Graham caught the Chesapeake Ripper and the Tooth Fairy but she wasn't sure if after quite a many years could the guy do it again.
"Who knows?" Chris shrugged, leading the way out of the master bedroom and on the way out of the small-now uninhabited- house. "But we all need the help we can get especially if this guy is trusted by Jack Crawford, caught many serial killers, and seems to know Hannibal the Cannibal more than anyone out there."
"Besides our supposed Killing Machine…" Lucy commented icily. She remembered the defection of Clarice Starling. At first she thought Lecter kidnapped her and begged, prayed, and worked hard on finding her when all of a sudden the evidence piles up and contradicts that thought and instead implicating Starling's willingness to go into hiding with Lecter.
"Point taken." Chris deadpanned. His grew eyes looked out at the clear dark sky. "This Graham knows Lecter. He knows serial killers because he is a Profiler. He is one of the best Profiler's out there. If he can find the Ripper than we all will be saved. Who knows what will unfold? Let's just hope that hope can live longer."
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The darkness surrounded Will. The darkness beckoned for Will. The darkness wanted Will.
It was tempting. It was oh so tempting to give in to the grief and to the fear. Besides Will didn't have anything else to live for. Molly and Josh were dead. They were dead! He could do nothing to save them! He couldn't even pray for them for he lost his faith in God a long time ago.
They were dead. The damn Ripper killed them! The Ripper sent him that letter for a reason. Will knew that there was always a reason. He knew that he should of listened to that reason but he was far to stubborn to listen.
Next thing he knew was that he couldn't scream anymore. He instead was weeping. He was crying unshed tears that failed to escape for more than ten years. He was crying because of the undying pain and grief. He cried for being truly alone. His face contorted with regret, pain, and longing. His eyes swelled, red and the light lost forever.
He went to his refrigerator and took out a beer. He started to drink. He didn't drink like he did before in wallowing in his misery. No, he drank slowly and let his mind think out all the wishes and dreams that he wish could have passed. He drank each sip as if it were poison; silently wondering if he could ever live again.
He scratched his head. He ripped his clothes. He tore his hair. It was the pain that he couldn't stop. The pain was coming out and growing stronger and stronger. The blow that was given to him by Destiny, God, Fate, or whatever was too much. He was losing his bearings. He wept and wept. He was unsure about what he would do next.
He tripped over to his desk. He opened the bottom drawer and stared, empty at the weapon inside. It was his special heavily modified Charter Arms .44 Bulldog revolver and picked it up as if it were something sacred.
He went to sit down on the couch again. He turned on the television and closed his eyes. He let the continuous report of Molly and Josh's deaths sink in. He let the newscaster say something. He let himself fall deeper into grief.
He opened his eyes. He gazed longingly at the butt of his revolver. He cocked the gun and remembered that a long time ago in his first alone time when Molly and Josh had left in the previous hour. He smiled coolly at the gun. He felt like drowning and that the only way to same himself was by killing himself.
He wanted to die. He thought that it was his time. He knew that he was willing to do anything to stop him from being alone. He placed the gun's point between his. He closed his eyes again and smiled wider and warmer. He thought of a life of peace and contentment. That was his dream and goal even though he knew it wouldn't be.
So he started to slowly pull the trigger…….when all of a sudden a ring was heard and it blared into his ear…. He shuddered at the sound and watched as his helpers put aside a few things. He sighed. Was it a sigh of relief? No. Was it a sigh of annoyance? A little.
He carefully put the gun on the coffee table. He knew who it was and didn't want to answer but he kept calling and calling. Will knew that nothing would bring his life back into order. He wanted nothing to do with the war.
He forced himself to answer. He picked up the receiver and said, "You don't need to ask anymore. I know when my choice is." He sighed again. The hesitation that rested on his chest wavered and fled. He continued without giving Crawford the chance of speaking said, "I'll do it. I'll help with the investigation of the Ripper and I'll help with the finding of Lecter and Starling."
He had no choice. There was no other choice. He had nothing else to live for and he had nothing else to lose. He was alone. He was almost lost. He was shocked.
Little did he know was that he took a job that will take him across the states from Washington to Florida from New York to California and back and forth. It will lead him to different countries.
Stay tuned: TBC….
A/N: Yes, this chapter is finally up…. Whoa! They died! What the $#? Hehe… Well once again I hoped you all enjoyed…
A/N:2/: I didn't know the last name for Molly so I made one up… oops oh well… Please I beg of you to review whether you wanted to give me constructive criticism or just a well loved thanking review… it doesn't matter. Enjoy the story! Stay tuned to Changes!!!!
