Death stepped forward and felt the squelch of flesh and the crack of bone beneath his own.
He lifted his foot to look with disdain on the former man stuck to the bottom of his first metatarsal, laughing manically at the absurdity of the Hell in which he currently found himself.
Death flicked the offending soul off his… well… sole…
He heard the silence descend. His beckoner had made an appearance.
"WHAT AM I DOING HERE, FALLEN ONE?"
The Beast made a show of his ignorance on the fact of the question.
Death felt himself attempt a sigh, through non-existent lips and absent lungs.
"IF WE ARE TO PLAY 20 QUESTIONS, ALLOW ME TO CUT TO THE CHASE."
He lifted bony fingers to his cowl and drew it back slowly to reveal his glowing skull.
"WILL GRAHAM."
"I admit I am quite curious about our alternate Universe investment. Do tell! How IS he getting on with the Verger Project?"
Death folded his robed arms. "YOU AGREED, MORNINGSTAR. IF I DIVULGE ANY INFORMATION ON THE SUBJECT TO YOU, I AM OBLIGED, UNDER THE TERMS OF YOUR AGREEMENT, TO INFORM THE DIVINE ONE OF THE SAME."
"Of course, of course! All's fair in life, death and the pursuit of coalescence after all! It would benefit no element in the Universe were evil to have the upper hand. Where's the fun in that?"
"AS LONG AS THAT REMAINS THE UNDERSTANDING. I WOULD NOT WISH TO BE ACCUSED OF FAVOURITISM IN THE MATTER."
He knelt down to pat Winston who had approached him in greeting. Death always did have a soft spot for animals, unmarred by the apparent progressive proclivities of man who were in no way, shape or form yet capable of dealing with said progression. A good dog by all accounts. Though he had ended up in the correct afterlife after mauling his unusually cruel owner and burying him in the forest close to where Will had picked him up.
Death conveyed his thoughts directly to Winston. One of the many advantages of being Death. You were not bound by good or evil. You simply WERE, and could easily speak to those who understood you without judgement from any quarter.
"YOU MISS HIM, WINSTON. DO NOT WORRY. I AM SURE HE WILL GET IT RIGHT. THIS TIME ROUND."
He looked up at Satan. Diplomacy had always been his strong suit. He had millennia of practise after all.
"THE SITUATION IS PROGRESSING IN COMPLETE ALIGNMENT WITH NON-PREDICTIVE OR INTERFERENCE."
Satan clapped his hooves together in a moment of glee. "Excellent!" So according to your assessment, no outside interference, nothing to suggest the boy is picking up unchartered vibes from the Universe or any of that jazz?"
"PRECISELY. HANNIBAL AND WILL ARE PROGRESSING ALONG THE TIMELINE AS THEY SHOULD AND HAVE DONE IN EVERY OTHER."
"But when it comes to the crunch…"
Death raised a bony finger. WHEN IT COMES TO THE "CRUNCH", BOTH YOU AND THE DIVINE ONE NEED TO RESTRAIN YOURSELVES AND ALLOW THE MOMENT TO PLAY OUT AS IT WAS MEANT."
Satan looked momentarily chastised.
"YOUR IMPATIENCE DOES YOU NO FAVOURS, MORNINGSTAR."
He turned to leave the conversation. "TRY WALKING IN MY COWL FOR A LIFETIME OR TEN. WATCHING IDIOTS SQUANDER THE BEAUTY OF THEIR MOMENT IN TIME, POWERLESS TO DO ANYTHING BUT STEP IN WHEN THEIR TIME IS UP. WHY DO YOU THINK I HAVE NO FLESH ON MY BONY FRAME? IT HAS BEEN WORN AWAY WITH ALL THE WRINKLED FRUSTRATION."
Satan nodded. "I wish I could feel what you feel."
"TRUST ME. YOU DO NOT," Death said, the pull of Heaven tugging him away. "FAREWELL, MORNINGSTTttaarrr…"
His skin burned.
The circle of raised flesh on his back glowed in the darkness.
"Does it hurt?"
"Only when I breath."
"Let me breath for the both of us then." Careful fingers reached forward to touch the brand. Hannibal felt the pain ebb away.
"You are very good at that."
"I know," came the response, no feigned modesty reflected in his tone.
Hannibal closed his eyes as soft lips came into contact with his back, tracing the ridges of the mark ever so gently.
"Why are you helping me?"
The movement paused. "Because we are inevitable."
Hannibal could not deny the sense of truth he felt on hearing the words.
He attempted to turn, to bring the owner of soothing hands and seductive voice into view. "May I see you?"
A firm hand caressed his shoulder and halted the movement. "Not yet. In time." The unseen resumed his gentle caress, lulling him back to his dreamless state, while in his bed, Hannibal Lecter dreamed of the destiny that silently awaited its moment to be revealed.
In time.