HER PROTECTOR…HIS PASSION
Hannibal had followed a meticulous schedule, withdrawing his blood and Clarice's for several weeks. He kept it safely refrigerated and stored, careful to choose containers that would preserve the integrity of the serum and render it free of contaminates. With a forty-five day shelf life under the storage circumstances available, he had finally collected enough to execute his plan.
Quite the macabre forensic artist, the fountains and sprays of their collective blood, the absolutely gory scene Hannibal left in Clarice's bedroom would have made even the most seasoned veterans wince. And although Clarice suggested it, Hannibal refused to leave evidence behind of their sexual congress; it seemed vulgar.
Hannibal understood her reasoning. It would stand to reason that, had he forced or coerced a sexual encounter, as would be the story, and were interrupted, there would be evidence.
Wanting to offer an alternative that would seem plausible, Hannibal suggested, "If I strip the bed down to the mattress and launder the sheets, they will assume I was attempting to destroy evidence of a sexual act."
Clarice stood beside him, considering the idea. She finally nodded, voicing her assent.
"Okay, H, that's fair."
Standing beside the bed, now soaked in blood, with a final flourish, Hannibal took a butcher's cleaver he'd removed from the block in the kitchen and drove it deep into the headboard of Clarice Starling's bed.
Leaning against Hannibal's shoulder, Clarice appeared amazed at the carnage.
"Christ, H, talk about an orgy of evidence! How much blood did you use?"
Wrapping his right arm around her body and gripping the cap of her shoulder, Hannibal pulled Clarice close and proclaimed with pride, "Two liters…in various parts of the duplex, though most of it is soaking into the mattress as we speak. When the responding officers see the cleaver in the headboard, not to mention the hooking of my Harpy on the mattress, it will be obvious to any and all that you died an absolutely horrific death at my hands, my Love."
Slipping her arm around his body and hooking her thumb in a belt hoop of his trousers, she snuggled against him, not at all put off by the staged slaughter.
"Remind me, H, how much blood is in the human body?"
Turning his body toward hers to close the embrace with his left arm, Hannibal kissed the top of her head. One would think, from the pair's interaction, the couple might be standing on a beach, admiring the setting sun rather than venerating a mattress saturated with blood.
"The average human body contains approximately 5 liters. The amount of blood loss displayed here would not be survivable without immediate medical attention. They will conclude that you are dead and that I have removed your body for disposal. Now, we must make the circumstantial evidence support that fact."
The couple's combined expertise proving incredibly well suited to the ghoulish task, they were diligent to detail. Clarice allowed Hannibal to drag her, wiping wide swaths of her blood across the floor, hair being tugged, follicles in tack as he pulled her by her legs between rooms so the evidence would support the supposition that he removed her body from the home for disposal. She grasped for furniture upending items along the way, leaving grisly handprints and broken glass to illustrate a life-ending struggle.
Ardelia entered the duplex to check on their progress. Clarice stood, covered in her own blood beside her best friend as the trio surveyed the room. Ardelia wrinkled her nose, disgusted with the sight as she strongly suggested.
"Great job, guys, it's eerily authentic, truly a horrific sight."
Hannibal smiled at his handiwork.
"Yes, it is quite impressive. Thank you, Miss Mapp."
"Don't mention it, Doc. I always give credit where credit's due." Ardelia turned to her friend.
"Hey, Clarice, please use my shower sooner rather than later. That blood is freaking me out totally."
Releasing her husband, Clarice turned and headed toward the door. "Okay, I'll take a quick shower and be back in a few. And, Dee when all this is over and everything calms down we will see each other…I promise."
"Yeah, I know we will, now go. Wash that off before I toss my cookies."
Hannibal held out a hand. "Clarice…before you shower."
Clarice was confused as to why he might call her back, an afterthought it seemed, but with a hint of importance, she thought.
She walked over to Hannibal, questioning, "Something wrong, H?"
Hannibal ran his hands up and down the length of her arm, trilling his fingers along her flesh. The moment his fingertips lost contact with her body, he flicked his wrist quickly, producing his harpy.
"No, not as such. Forgive me, my Love, I don't mean to be improper, however it would be prudent to leave your clothing in a state as to appear that I removed them in a hasty, and less than gentlemanly fashion."
He opened his harpy and sliced her shirt and bra, releasing her breasts. She covered herself, not from modesty but necessity, forced to hold the fabric together, lest it fall to the floor. With his maroon eyes flashing his approval, he slipped the blade between her stomach and her jeans and using her weight as a counterbalance, ripped the blade through the fabric, hacking her jeans apart.
Barely able to hold the shreds of clothing together, Clarice questioned good-humoredly, "Well, here's hoping I can make it all the way to Ardelia's shower before the clothing falls to the floor. Where should I leave them?"
"Bring them to me and I'll toss them on the arm chair in your bedroom. It will look as though you rebuffed my advances, consequently, I raped and murdered you, preferably in that order, though I'm sure that will be the cause of much debate."
Laughing at his insinuation of necrophilia, Clarice proclaimed, "Whatever floats your boat. You just remember when this is all over that you owe me a new outfit, H."
Smiling wryly as he replaced his harpy within his sleeve, Hannibal assured, "I will be thrilled to indulge you when we reach our destination, my Love."
As part of the plan and contrary to every instinct she possessed, Ardelia allowed Hannibal Lecter to bind her hands and feet. She unintentionally flinched at the sight of his hands, slick, dripping with a mixture of Clarice's blood and his own and silently hoped he wouldn't perceive her discomfort.
Sensing the spike in her stress hormones and visibly noticing her discomfort, Hannibal sought to calm his lover's friend.
"If at any point you are uncomfortable, please, do not hesitate to make me aware. I don't wish to make you any more uncomfortable than is necessary for the task."
The sticky serum making Hannibal's task slightly more difficult, he gingerly handled the thick length of rope careful not to cause Ardelia unnecessary distress, but making certain it would be obvious she could not have set herself free. Someone would have to extricate her.
"Is the binding tolerable, Miss Mapp?"
Ardelia shifted against the ropes. This close to Hannibal, she could see the scar on his hand where his duplicated middle finger had been removed. She could smell his cologne asnd was therefore certain he could smell her fear. She was alone with him, vulnerable.
Struggling to appear nonchalant, she assured, "No worries, I'm fine Dr. Lecter."
It was decided that Ardelia would call 911 at the pre-appointed time report that she surprised him in the bedroom as Hannibal Lecter killed Clarice Starling. Hannibal covered all the bases.
"Are you still able to access your cell phone?"
Ardelia reached for the back pocket of her jeans and found that she was easily able to slide the phone up from the pocket and readily access the keypad.
"Yup, I can operate it easily. I'll get them on speaker phone and call in the cavalry."
The moment he was certain the ropes were secure, Hannibal stood and stepped back, aware that his proximity caused her undue stress.
"The rope binding is secure. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"
Thinking that she shouldn't dare, but then, what the hell, it's not like he'd hurt her. Not with Clarice in the next room thinking he was marriage material. To hell with it, she wanted to know, so she'd ask.
"Would you answer a question for me, Doctor?"
"Yes, of course, Miss Mapp."
Disconcerting as it was, Ardelia forced herself to meet and hold his eyes. The swirling maroon with tiny pinpoints of light simmering, flying to the center of his soul, possessed her. Thinking she would be afraid, she was oddly comforted. The glowering orbs that burned above the cannibal's mask were not present here. Here, he was with Clarice. Here, he was simply, Hannibal.
"Dr. Lecter I want you to know that I'm going against everything I believe in because of what the Bureau has done to Clarice. I love her. She's family, so please, please, don't make me regret this. I need to see her happy and since she's only happy when she's with you… She means the world to me. You…you won't ever…hurt her, will you?"
Hannibal returned to a kneeling position, resting a soothing hand on Ardelia's shoulder.
His voice was soft, sincere, as he explained, "She means the world to you, but, she is my world. Trust that I absolutely understand the sacrifice you are making for Clarice and you may rest assured I would not insult your efforts on our behalf. The arrangements I have made will insure that her life will be filled with joy, love and contentment."
Not good enough. She needed to hear it.
She pursued, "And you'll…take care of her?"
As if the question itself were abhorrent to him, he inquired with an edge of incredulity, "You are afraid I might harm her? Physically?"
The way he asked, as if it pained him to even consider the thought, Ardelia felt relieved. Still, he needed to say the words or she wouldn't be satisfied.
"Yeah…I'm afraid. I'm afraid you might get tired of her and either leave her, or hurt her. She'd never survive it if you did. She's been abandoned too much in her life. Betrayed by too many people who owed her better. If you ever hurt her…there's no place far enough that I wouldn't find you."
"While I'm sure you would pursue me to the ends of the earth on her behalf, that won't be necessary, Miss Mapp. Know that I will never hurt her and I will not leave her side until I draw my last breath. I make you that promise and when circumstances permit, as Clarice has promised…you will see her again, very soon."
He checked the ropes once more. "Are you experiencing any distress?"
Satisfied, Ardelia responded, "No, no distress. I'm doing well."
Hannibal stood and began moving around the room, finishing the preparations.
"I hope being alone with me does not cause you undue anxiety. Clarice has become so comfortable with me that she fails to consider others may experience…trepidation in my presence."
Ardelia shifted in her seat, watching the elegant line of Hannibal's body as he picked up and returned several objects, assuring his fingerprints would be readily available to investigators.
"Actually, I am pleased to have the opportunity to get to know you. You're not at all what I expected."
Lifting a picture frame holding a photo of Clarice and Ardelia on their graduation day from the FBI, Hannibal admired the photo. Returning it to the table, Hannibal angled his head slightly. It was obvious her comment intrigued him.
"I am curious…exactly what did you expect?"
"I expected you to be cold, maybe a little distant. I knew that you were polite and well mannered but you're much warmer than I thought you would be. You also have a sensitivity that's disarming. I never understood it before, but now I do. I know exactly why she's been in love with you for so long."
Hannibal turned to face Ardelia fully. This was a statement he needed explained.
"Why?"
He's interested, now. He loves her or he wouldn't care about that comment.
"Because each of you has a quality the other is missing…something that had been taken from you. You each fill the lost, the absent parts…the needs of each other."
His eyebrows knitted tightly, his tongue touched the corner of his mouth briefly, as he considered the concept.
"What missing parts? What needs?"
"You are her protector and her passion…she is your redemption…your soul."
Without blinking, Hannibal stared ahead, the thought obviously striking a chord deep within. Ardelia wasn't certain, but believed she could see a brief quiver to his lip, though in the blink of an eye, it was gone.
"You are very perceptive, Miss Mapp."
"Please, Dr. Lecter, we are practically family. Call me Ardelia."
"Thank you, Ardelia, and of course, you may call me Hannibal."
The moment Clarice returned from showering Hannibal divested her of the bloody clothing and bounded up the stairs to place the evidence.
When upstairs and out of sight Hannibal used his mouth to suck and lick blood off the fabric. He also bit into it and dragged his teeth to mark it, knowing they would find traces of his saliva mixed with her blood.
The process had dual intentions for Hannibal. He certainly wanted to leave evidence but, as a bonus, he would be able to taste Clarice without being seen. Wanting his curiosity sated, he worried she might not understand.
Hannibal shuffled happily down the stairs, returning quickly to the living room. Seeing the sparkle in his eye and the uncharacteristic bounce to his step, Clarice considered the motivation behind the exuberance. She smiled widely as realization dawned.
If I call him on it, will he evade it or will he admit it?
Clarice, careful to remove any recrimination from her tone, questioned playfully, "H? Needed some private time did you?"
An eyebrow lifted. He was captivated by the question.
My brilliant girl…do you know, I wonder?
He chose to be direct.
"Yes, Clarice."
"I'm curious. How did I taste?"
He was taken aback…Unsure of how to answer.
I know your nature and I'm not afraid.
Confessing fully, hoping she would accept the behavior and not be repulsed, he readily admitted, "You know me too well, my Love. Yes, I did indeed…indulge… and I must say, you are...Delicious."
A knock at the door, Barney had arrived to escort Clarice to her flight.
"Your ride to the airport has arrived, my Love."
She reached for Hannibal, grasping at his shoulders.
"Let me stay until you can leave. I'm afraid something might go wrong."
"My Love, if something does go wrong, I will be much more capable of handling it if you are not with me. It is likely that my judgment would be clouded if you were in danger. It would be safer for the two of us if you would travel ahead and meet me at our connection. I'll be along presently. I promise."
Hannibal opened the door and Barney stepped inside.
"Welcome, Barney. Thank you for escorting my Love. He safety, as you know, is paramount."
Barney understood that time was a concern. "Not at all, Doctor, it would be best if Clarice were on time…it wouldn't be a good idea to draw attention by being late through the security checkpoint."
"Yes, thank you, Barney. Clarice will be with you momentarily."
Barney lifted Clarice's luggage. "You say your goodbyes. I'll be in the car, and Doctor Lecter, don't worry. I'll make sure she is safe on board and the plane is in the air before I leave."
"Thank you, Barney."
After closing the door Hannibal turned his attention to Clarice. Seeing her eyes well and spill over, he embraced her. This was the second time in their short relationship that she was moved to tears for him. He was touched immeasurably never having dared to hope that during his lifetime so much as a single tear would ever be shed for him.
Ardelia, although bound, averted her eyes to afford them some small measure of privacy.
"Please Clarice…no tears…please. We will be together soon." He kissed her tenderly, passionately, concerned though he would never admit, that it could be their last embrace.
Pushing Clarice through the egress as Barney wrapped and arm around her shoulder, pulling her gently from the home, Hannibal Lecter closed both the door to the duplex and to his heart. He could not have his thoughts with Clarice. His mind, as the bullets flew, would have to be focused.
Logan took his position and waited. Lecter told him exactly what time he would exit his boat and appear on the dock, just as he outlined in the note to Pearsall. Logan would not shirk his duty. He would be firing a live round dead center on Hannibal Lecter's chest. Logan was terrified both that he might miss his mark and that he might hit it.
Pearsall, Noonan and dozens of agents flooded the area where Hannibal Lecter was to appear. Still covered in Clarice's blood, Hannibal Lecter stepped from a small boat at the designated time on the appointed pier directly on the waterfront. He called out to Pearsall.
"Agent Pearsall I am so glad my invitation for you to join me arrived safely. How is your lovely daughter? She remains ever in my thoughts."
Seeing Lecter covered in blood, terrified that Hannibal referenced his daughter, Pearsall demanded, "Who did you kill, Doctor Lecter? Who was your victim?"
Worried it might be a member of his own family, Pearsall needed to know whose blood it was before they took Lecter down. He paced at his vantage point, terrified.
Logan shouted into his wire. "I've got him! Do you want me to take the shot?"
Pearsall barked his response, his voice cracked with worry, "No, stand down! Stand down! He's covered in blood! Someone get my wife on the line! I want to know where she is and where my kids are before we take this monster out!"
"Why are you covered in blood, Dr. Lecter? Who did you kill?" Noonan joined.
"No one of any significance to any of you. She was, however, quite important to me. Unfortunately, we had a bit of a lover's quarrel and she did not survive our…spat. I am quite overcome…distraught, really. I had imagined…well, it doesn't matter what I imagined as she was of a different mind. Facing the remainder of my life without her…I cannot…"
"Who was your victim, Dr. Lecter? Where is the body?"
"I loved her too much to have you dissect her. I interred her body with all the dignity it was within my power to provide. You will never find her. You will never have her. I made certain of that."
An agent ran up to Pearsall, grabbing his arm, screaming frantically, "Agent Ardelia Mapp just called in. She's totally freaking out. She walked in on them…in the bedroom. She saw the whole thing. Lecter tied her up in the living room so he could finish… It's Starling, Clint. He killed Clarice."
Pearsall didn't hesitate. "Marley, are you still sighted in? Is the target clear?"
"Yup…just give the word."
Pearsall swallowed hard and ordered.
"You're clear…Take the shot."
Until the next chapter, my friends!
LH
