Guess who's back!

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Days and weeks passed with no further dreams accompanying his restless nights, despite his conscious mind demanding satisfaction and closure, and his quivering heart skipping a beat every time his gaze met the cover of the book Hannibal lent him. Will had not dared open it, stopping his own hand whenever he found himself reaching for it. The rational part of his mind refused to even consider the possibility his friend and therapist had suggested, but somewhere deep inside of him the thought of it had settled, and with each passing day it had become increasingly less and less foreign. Was it actually possible that him, an anonymous teacher with an outstanding empathy that proved useful to the FBI, born and raised in the US by a simple family, was the reincarnation of a knight from the Middle Ages that served for the legendary King Arthur in the islands of the now known Great Britain?

"Ridiculous" Will whispered to himself, the word echoing in the empty lecture hall. His fingers were absent-mindedly rolling and flipping a pen, throwing it in the air and catching it with no effort, repeating the motion so naturally it seemed this little handy trick was something he'd been doing forever, his body knowing how to move even with his mind not paying any attention.

"What is?"

Startled, Will stopped the familiar motion mid-movement and the pen fell back on the desk only to roll to the edge of it and fall to the floor. He lifted his gaze to find Beverly walking towards him, a small smile softening her hard features.

"Just some weird thoughts" he replied, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Must have been weirder than usual, since you haven't answered your phone for the last hour. Jack has been calling you non-stop, even sent me to get you since he couldn't get in contact."

"Really?" He reached for the phone in his jacket, not finding it, rummaged through the papers on the desk and lastly looked in his briefcase, finally finding it, multiple missed calls notified on the bright screen. "Oh, damn, I left it silenced." He looked back up at her. "Did he need me?"

"Still does. Crime scene, possibly the Chesapeake Ripper. We need you to get a look at it and do your thing before packing up proofs and stuff."

"I'm sorry you had to miss the fun to come pick me up."

"The fun will wait for me. Jack wouldn't let us do anything before you got your way, so they've only took pictures as far as I know." Beverly crossed her arms and lifted her eyebrows at him. "You coming or what? I don't know what the Guru will do to me if I don't bring you."

Will chuckled. Despite being their boss, Jack had this authoritarian dad feel about him that made them all joke about getting grounded were they to misbehave. He still remembers vividly the one time he spoke back to him, at one of the crime scenes of the angels' case, and probably Beverly does too if her comment about her ears ringing was anything to go by.

He packed up as fast as he could and followed her to the parking lot to his own car, which was a rental since his own was requiring longer than he wished to get fixed. It was freezing outside, the chilly wind numbing his rosy cheeks, the feeling echoing in his mind, and as he got in the car and pulled out into the road behind Beverly's car, for a second the steering wheel under his palms felt like reins.


The pendulum inside him wouldn't still, not permitting him to focus and revive the killer's steps through the making of the picture in front of him: a gory shrine of magnificent cruelty, what was once a man was now impossibly bent and broken, the skin a grey canvas where stripes of dried blood drew spirals and patterns. The corpse had been shaped in an arch, rigid from both the rigor mortis and the freezing temperatures, the intestines stretched and tied from the neck to the ankles, the obscene composition pinned on a dying tree in the middle of a frozen forest. A branch was protruding from what once was the now open-cut chest of the dead man, its lungs missing, the heart hanging in front of the open cavity with the tip of the branch piercing through it. The whole canvas flickered in front of his eyes, distant echoes ringing in his ears.

"It's a bow."

Will snapped out of his contemplation of the horrid show, and turned to Jack who was now standing next to him.

"That I gather" he replied, gaze leaving the dark man and returning to the picture in front of him.

"So, what can you tell me?"

"Seems the Chesapeake Ripper, but I can't say for sure."

Jack furrowed his brow, now studying him instead of the corpse.

"What do you mean you can't say for sure?"

"I can't concentrate, can't connect with him." Silence followed that sentence.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying" Will said, almost justifying himself.

"Well, try harder!" Jack's voice boomed through the snowy forest, making everyone stop in their tracks and turn their heads at them. "We didn't wait hours for you to come here and tell me that you're sorry!"

Will exhaled, exhausted already by the confrontation and rubbed his forehead where the beanie didn't cover.

"Try harder" the Guru said, now speaking at a normal volume, before turning and leaving him alone to confront the gruesome composition, his steps crunching snow and snapping pieces of wood while moving away.

The pendulum seemed to swing in time with his heartbeat, which was going remarkably faster than usual, not seeming to calm down. It took an incredibly long time for him to reach out to the killer, for any time he tried he felt himself being grabbed back by other people: presences now familiar in his heart, they seemed to be waiting in the recess of his consciousness, reaching for him, extending their hands towards him.

"Leave me alone" Will whispered under his breath, closing his eyes, inhaling deeply, drawing everything out.

One last swing, then the pendulum stilled.

Will opened his eyes, the scene unfolding, the body bending even more as the branch drew back, pulling on the intestines, before it shot through the back of the bow, tearing the chest open and bringing its gory trophy out for everyone to see.

"I see you" he said, the words rolling on his tongue. "Something sneaked upon you, something you weren't expecting. As it surprised me, I surprised you."

Will slowly walked around it, never blinking, watching intently.

"It reached my heart, stole my breath. As I did to you."

His slow pacing came to a halt in front of the hanging heart. After a beat the bow started to unfold, the intestines untying, the cadaver slowly regaining a human stance while stag-like dark horns started to grow on its head. The bloody patterns painted on its skin seemed to shine blue as a grey hand reached for the hanging heart, now offering it. Will observed as flowers bloomed from the hole left by the branch, coming from the inside, white petals hiding the wound. A sweet scent filled the air, tugging on his heartstrings.

"This is my design."

A blink, and he was once again facing the horrid display.

His breath grew labored as he came back to himself, still feeling the intimacy of it, drowning in the confession the Ripper had shared with him. Black dots started to appear in his peripheral vision and he faltered in his stance, falling on one knee. His throat felt clogged, he couldn't breathe. Will heard someone call his name, but the sound of it was almost inaudible as the shrieking of a hawk filled his ears. He fell backwards, looking at the sky.