A/N : Hello again, dear readers. Sorry about the long wait for this chapter. *Doing a dogeza* A series of unfortunate things happened to me and the one that bother me the most is that my result slumped. A lot. So, I kind of get into a mild depression and there's this thing where I joined an international program (as a Committee Member) and got so busy. Sorry.
Moving along, I hope you enjoy this chapter and tell me what you think about it.
WARNING – There's RAPE implication (during Herkus' memory) in this chapter, so if that bothers you, please skip that part.
Guests please change your name so I can refer you as such and such.
Credits are given to HarryPotterSlashFreakyFan (MY BETA READER, GUYS) and Lulubell Alynn (MY FRENCH TRANSLATOR)! Add one more – Cherrymix'e (MY LITHUANIAN TRANSLATOR)! Thanks a lot!
The thing you need to remember about Lithuanian language in this is 'Tėti' means 'Daddy' and 'mielasis' means 'sweetheart'.
To Child-Of-Eru : Thanks for reviewing. I'm glad you think that this is a really good story and I apologize for the grammatical error (your advice had been duly noted :D). Of course there will be Will/Herkus interaction in the future! About Herkus' abuse? Hehe, you gotta follow this story then. (P.S. Your review's length is just fine – and have a good day!)
To QuillAsphodel : Sorry about the spelling errors and thank you for the review. Have a nice day!
To DeathLiz : Thanks! I'm glad you love this fic! About that AO3, I'm sorry to say that – that, wasn't my account. That was a prank of my sister, she's just being a (funny) jerk about it. As I don't know what the password for the account is, I can't update them. Sorry. Just read it here, ok? Have a great day!
To Darrk Rabbit : I'm not expecting you to read this, but I'll just put this up nonetheless. Sorry about the grammatical errors, English is not my main language. Have a nice day.
To Penguinvamp4245 : Thanks for the kind review! And I do understand how hard it is to find HP/Hannibal crossovers (that's one of the reasons why I write this story). I hope you enjoy this one and have a nice day!
To yuharu . kouji101 : Thanks for the review! You're welcome – and I'm glad you enjoyed this story. And you're not a bother – have a great day too! :D
To Lupawolf67 : First, thanks for the review. And I do remember you – I'd blushed once when I read your previous comment, and again, I'm very pleased to know that you loved this story! Thank you, it means a lot to me! I thought that precocious doesn't necessarily refer to brat, more like a mature and gifted or like Google 'told' me – (of a child) having developed certain abilities at an earlier age than usual. That is to say, I'll ask my Beta reader for more clarification later (yep, I have one now!) – thanks for telling me. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Have a nice day, dear reader!
To darknesslight13 : Thanks! No, dear reader, it's just not you. I kind of annoyed at Hannibal for helping Abigail too, but there's a reason why he did that. Hehe, I hope you can be patient and continue reading why I made Hannibal like that. Oh and there's more Alejandro in this chapter! Have a great day!
To V: THANKS!
To HarryPotterSlashFreakyFan : Thanks for your help, my dear Beta!
To dantexsin : Thank you for the review. And yes, Herkus will tell Hannibal about the dreams, at some point. :D
To Random Person 94 : Thanks for the comment! *Squeal* I really, really liked your comment! And I liked my characters with flaws, makes them more human, no? I had something plan for Mrs. Kelly at later chapters (poor woman). I hope you love this one too! Have a great day!
To Sassy Lord : Thanks! Abigail will get the 'consequences' much, much later and of course Herkus will open up with Hannibal at some point. Thanks again for liking Alejandro. Have a nice day!
To Kit : Thanks for the review! Dear reader, now you tempted me a 'what if Alejandro is Gatekeeper' fic, lol (about that…hehe, who knows?). I hope you can get a better grasp about Alejandro's character in this one (don't worry, he's not like the pest – he's a very lovable character, or so I think). I love your thoughts about the last chapter! I hope you like this one too and have a great day!
To Christian ChimChim : Thanks! I'm a sucker for protective!Hannibal too! I mean, who doesn't?! Herkus will treat Alejandro somewhat badly during their early friendship (he doesn't really knows how to treat a friend, after all). Have a great day!
To domestic fanperson : Thanks for the comment. It's understandable…people with sharp mind do make a person a bit uncomfortable. XD
To Breakable Dolls : Thanks for the review! Alejandro did become something like a consultant for Herkus, and vice versa sometimes. *Grin* Alejandro is a human, sorry to say about that, but he's not necessarily a "normal" individual. XD Have a great night/day!
To DebsTheSlytherinSnapefan : Thanks for the review, Debs! *Give a sheepish smile* I'm back. I like to think that Hannibal is somewhat greedy, thinking to choose Abigail or Herkus (the latter, Hannibal, the latter…!) because both of them have so much potential. I can't stand Abigail in the series too and that's why her ending is – oops, haha, no spoiler now (you can guess by the poll that she wouldn't live at the end of the story by now, no?). Have a great day, Debs! (P.S. You're the only one calling Alejandro as Joshua XD)
To help does wonder : Thanks for the review! *Insert evil laugh* The scars will be find out soon, be patient (heheh) and try not to explode yet. There's gentle!Hannibal in this, so I hope you liked it. And Herkus did let something slipped up at the end of this chapter. Have a nice day!
To jayswing96 : Thanks! I will keep Al – I promise! He's my beloved OC and the friend of our beloved little cannibal, how I bear to throw him away..! Herkus is in a state of confusion, you imagine someone with an able body and then, they suddenly become crippled. There's bound to be some emotional trouble there. That is to say, there are more reasons why Herkus hated being treated like a kid. Have a nice day!
To ElementalFoxGoddess : Thank you for the review. I think this is high praise indeed, when a fan have crush on your OC. THANKS! You flattered me! I think that character in the beginning that you mention is The Gatekeeper of the Veil (aka GK). Have a nice day. XD
To Lulubell Alynn : Thanks for the review and the translation that you provided! Enjoy this chapter! Have a nice day!
To Ataxius : Thanks! I'm sorry if I confused you. What I mean is, Herkus is not actually a kid, so I don't considered him as a genius kid…but Herkus does have above average intelligent (due to his past abuses and experience). Alejandro is a genuine genius (there will be a scene where his genius showed through in this story) because he's a kid, but he's not really superior to Herkus in term of intelligence if you're worried about that. Does that clarify your question? Have a great day!
To suntan140 : Thanks for the review. *Grinning* I wonder that too. Just keep reading. XD Have a great day!
To Matsoine : Thanks for the review! I'm glad you liked Al (like we both don't know that *snort*)! I hope you like Hannibal in this! Fluffy! Have a nice day!
To lilyoftheval5, KyRa-ChAn008, Kacchan23, RosettaxBloody, LunaSunFlowerLily, Yoyo, R. A Cross, Lady Maxime, InnieMinnie, Gyuchin : Thank you for the support and review! I hope you love this chapter! I enjoyed reading your comments and hope that all of you have a nice day/night! :D
General warning : Swearings, past child abuse, mention of rape, slash, cannibals, dark creatures.
Pairing : Hannibal/Will
Disclaimer : I do not own Harry Potter and Hannibal series.
Chapter 21 : Mind Walk
Henrikas wasn't generally an emotion-driven type of individual, preferring to take his time contemplating and behaved like a civilized person, but between the disastrous incident with Hannibal and the last few days of sleep plagued with nightmares that rattled him awake from a deep sleep, irritation flared brightly over every inch of his body. His throbbing headache had only added into the torment. To say that he was exhausted was an understatement.
He took a deep breath and stretched, trying to ease some of the fatigue, and grimaced at the taut pull of muscle. Henrikas sighed noisily through his nose.
Over the past few days, while Hannibal had been working at his office as per usual, Henrikas had been going out and frequently visited the park that took him about eight minutes of walk.
Alejandro had proven to be a great distraction. The older boy – only in appearance – was surprisingly helpful, making efforts to alleviate his distress or calm his nerves whenever his temper got the better of him, which was recurrent as of late. A part of him irked at the thought of some stranger – which his brain had traitorously labelled as a friend – becoming familiar with his behaviour loathed at the attention, but he couldn't deny Alejandro's usefulness.
Henrikas tried to be gracious about it, but he couldn't bring himself to communicate his gratitude towards the older boy. He had enough problems deconstructing his emotions. Thankfully, Alejandro didn't seem to be particularly bothered by his mood swings.
"I'm going out," Henrikas told Mrs. Kelly as he donned a jacket over his body. He gave a brief glance over the old caretaker that was making a pretty good impression of a lifeless doll. "I'll release you when I get back."
Henrikas wasn't too worried about Hannibal coming home only to find Mrs. Kelly's odd state. The psychiatrist was busy now that he had FBI to deal with; something about Hannibal helping Mr. Will profiling criminals. He missed the older cannibal's company sometimes, but before he could properly regain his composure, Henrikas had promised himself not to get near Hannibal.
What he was concerned about was whether Hannibal would hold onto his promise. Henrikas didn't want any stranger delving too deeply into his background. Even Hannibal, who he had the most favourable impression towards, wasn't privy to that information.
Henrikas had to find a way to eradicate his nightmares – the source of his trouble.
The thing was Henrikas couldn't.
He tried Alejandro's method, but he found that meditation wasn't as easy as he had initially thought. It was near impossible to be so proficient in meditation in just a short time – and what Henrikas didn't have was time. Henrikas highly doubt that Hannibal would leave him be any longer – that fact had thrown Henrikas into a never ending dilemma with no way out.
Without him realizing it, Henrikas found himself at a familiar place. It was strange to be able to arrive at the destination with an absent mind. Henrikas bit his lips and studied the vacant park, giving it a long, considering look.
Alejandro wasn't anywhere in sight – that was a first.
Henrikas ended up sitting at their usual place, his mind wandering far away. A soft bark sent his stomach clenched in anxiety before the feeling considerably eased at seeing the familiar wolf pup that padded softly to him. It – she – looked at him expectantly.
He unconsciously smiled before he smoothed it out, "What?"
It – she – barked again before tottered towards him. The pup wagged its – her – tail, seemingly excited.
Henrikas huffed, no longer resisting the urge to smile, "Are you hungry?"
"Wooff!"
He nodded, "Bear with it, he'll come feed you later."
The pup tilted her head in confusion and Henrikas snorted. He considered for a moment before gingerly took the pup and placed her into his lap. The lupine seemed to be happy at the attention she was getting and Henrikas chuckled. Innocent baby blue eyes stared at him, her gaze was penetrating.
"Such pretty eyes," he murmured, scratching the ears and watched with fascination at the dazed look she gave; the pup looked like she was intoxicated. "I might take them away from you."
"That's cruel."
Henrikas jolted in surprise before trying to calm his startled heartbeats. Alejandro sat cross-legged across him with eyebrows raised. The pup left his laps in a hurry and was immediate to assault the red-haired boy when he offered a jerky.
"Why? Beautiful things made people want to possess them, no?"
"Some beautiful things are better left alone," Alejandro said, face troubled, "…like historical buildings."
Henrikas huffed, "I'm only joking. You don't have to look so serious."
"I know," he replied and paid attention to the wolf pup who whined for more food. Henrikas thought that Alejandro had spoiled the lupine too much.
"Why are you late?"
Alejandro huffed a laugh. "I didn't realise we had agreed on the time."
That was true, Henrikas thought amusedly. They never seem to be planning meetings ahead, but Alejandro usually arrived before him. It was somewhat strange to arrive earlier from him.
"Fair enough."
"Well," Alejandro glanced curiously at him as his hands were occupied with patting the energetic pup, "you can always call or text me."
Henrikas followed Alejandro's gaze that fell somewhere on his chest; the phone that Hannibal gifted him hanging motionlessly. "Oh."
"Give me your phone, I'll put in my number."
Henrikas stared disgustedly as Alejandro wiped his fingers that were slobbered with drool on his pants. Sighing, he offered a wet tissue to the red-haired boy and was thanked for his trouble. Not that he did a good deed, Henrikas just didn't want Alejandro's dirty hands to touch Hannibal's present.
Alejandro typed quickly and immediately saved his number into his phone. The older boy seemed pleased somehow and it made Henrikas wary to see the grin on his face.
"Why're you grinning?"
"Hehe," Alejandro beamed, "It's my first friend's phone number – how could I not be happy?"
Henrikas flushed, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Thankfully, Alejandro didn't seem to see his moment of shame. The boy was strange, Henrikas thought, to be that happy just because of that.
Henrikas was startled when he realised that Alejandro had been trying to get his attention for a while. "What?"
"I said, 'why you didn't put password on your phone?'" Alejandro dutifully replied. "It's kind of dangerous, you know. People can casually use your phone."
"Password?" Henrikas frowned.
Alejandro perked up, "You don't know how to place passwords?" Henrikas shook his head and Alejandro smiled, "Want me to teach you?"
Alejandro had a weird habit to teach him things and the red-haired boy was excited to do it, like it was his job to do so. It would have been annoying if the boy hadn't been so good at explaining and not to mention the lack of patronizing tone that certain people have when they knew something more than the other.
'Hermione Granger,' a small traitorous voice whispered at the back of his mind and he quickly shook it away.
"Alright," he acquiesced and tried not to tense when Alejandro scooted closer to him.
Alejandro showed him tricks and tips to use the phone and downloaded certain application that he insisted to Henrikas that he must have. Henrikas didn't have any idea whether it was truly essential or not, but agreed to it because it seemed like it was a good way to pass time; which was one of the reason why Henrikas came to the park anyway.
They ended up with exchanging their guardian's numbers just in case something had happened. Henrikas made Alejandro promised not to use Hannibal's number if it wasn't something urgent; not that he thought that he would ever get into trouble where Alejandro needed to call the older cannibal. Henrikas snorted when he noticed that Alejandro had put 'General' instead of Hannibal's name in his phone. Alejandro could be so childish sometimes.
Henrikas was currently playing with one of the games that Alejandro had just downloaded when the dreaded question came.
"So, how it's going with General? Any improvement?" Alejandro asked, tentative.
He stiffened at the same time the word 'GAME OVER' flashed on the screen of his phone. Turning it off, Henrikas glanced at Alejandro who was waiting patiently for his reply. The boy seemed genuinely concerned for him and that was the only reason why Henrikas didn't run off as he properly considered the answer that he was about to give.
Alejandro was a great distraction, but the boy was also the person who kept reminding him the source of his headache – heartache – and tried to help him. Alejandro existence was akin to Hannibal.
'Why am I surrounded by people who give me so much trouble?'
"No."
Alejandro considered him for a long moment before nodding.
"Does the meditation help at least?"
"Not really," Henrikas replied and reminded himself not to vent off his anger towards the boy. "Look, can we not talk about this?"
Alejandro made a little thoughtful noise and rubbed at his chin.
"We can…but I don't want to," the red-haired boy reply surprised Henrikas. Alejandro frowned, his grey eyes showed concern as he cautiously spoke, "Henrikas, I don't know what you'd seen in your nightmares, but I can see that it's not good for you. You – I think you need help."
The last sentence caught Henrikas off guard and his body suddenly filled with coldness. Hot, raging fire and icy cold made his stomach plummeted. "Is that why you want Hannibal's number?"
Grey eyes widened, "What? No! That has nothing to do with this. Henrikas, I only say this because I'm worry about you. Seb told me that it's not good to let someone in pain suffer and I think you have suffered enough. Just let someone help you, Henrikas. It's not like you can hypnotize yourself and make your problem go away."
Henrikas stilled, an odd thought crossed his mind, "…what did you say?"
Alejandro, who had been in the middle of venting his words, stopped and blinked confusedly. "…you have suffered enough?"
"No, no," Henrikas hastily interjected. "After that."
"Let someone help you?"
"No, you said that I can't hypnotize myself and make this go away," Henrikas said slowly. Alejandro arched an eyebrow at him, expression lost.
"Yes…?"
Henrikas could feel his frustration, his excitement, all of it spun together, mingled around his erratic heartbeat, a ray of hope shone in his mind. A laugh escaped from his mouth and in a moment of elation, he forgot their barely start of an argument and beamed at Alejandro.
"You're a genius!" Henrikas exclaimed and laughed harder when Alejandro only gave a perplexed face. "I got to go."
"Wait, Henrikas – "
Henrikas stopped in his track and stared at Alejandro for a moment before smiling slightly, "I'll forgive you this time, but if you suggest something like that again…" Henrikas trailed off and deepened his smile before he made his way back to Hannibal's house all the while keeping the same pleased expression on his face.
He barely resisted the urge to change into his Creature form and settled for a jog instead. Henrikas faintly remembered to release Mrs. Kelly from his order – while at the same time he gave the order not to enter his bedroom – before making a hasty run to his room and into his bathroom.
The large mirror showed his reflection and Henrikas realised why Alejandro seemed to be quite concern over him. His face looked too sickly to be considered healthy and he was becoming thinner. Henrikas didn't know how he could pass off Hannibal's scrutiny. The fact that it had been a long while since they had met properly seemed to be the case.
Suddenly feeling nervous, Henrikas took off of his jacket and peered into the mirror, recalling the time how he had practically 'Obliviated' himself which in the end, didn't seem to be a good idea. He wasn't going to hypnotize himself though – he was going to see whether it was possible to mind walk on his own mind using his ability.
Henrikas felt stupid for not thinking about it much earlier and he'd only have Alejandro to thank for reminding him. He unexpectedly felt guilty for leaving the boy without saying as much as a thank you and had given the red-haired boy a light threat instead.
'Maybe I should send him a text later,' he mused unconcernedly before smirking before his reflection. 'What's important now is to test this…!'
Braving himself for an unexpected result, Henrikas used his power on himself.
~X~
Will observed the blood-stained frame that defiled the picture of a seemingly perfect family of five. There was almost something poetic about it – seeing something that was built impeccably with sheer effort only for it to be spoilt and gone in a flash. Like a ruined wine.
He blinked at the flash of cameras going on and off, they were making his head dizzy. While the others were busy imprinting the scene, Jack gave a brief explanation of the murdered Turners.
"Minus one," he corrected, his eyes flickered to the bodies of the two dead girls then to the mother.
Karen Turner was the last to be killed. 'Save the best for last' popped in mind, like a favourite desert waiting to be eaten at the end of a meal. The killer deliberately did that; it was 'his' design.
'The question was why.'
"Uh, a son, Jesse," Jack amended, "disappeared last year."
Will took one of the photos that were placed on top of the mantelpiece, noting how the blood trickled from the top to the bottom and gave the illusion of the boy – Jesse – on the picture wear a striped jacket instead of a dull grey one.
" – Possible runaway, probable abduction."
"Or both," Will idly added on Jack's statement. Studying the variety pictures arranged neatly in front of him, Will frowned when he noticed something was off with them. The body language, the stiff expression; it was a façade. "Holidays, vacations, milestones…never reveals the whole picture."
"Who wants to fill their scrapbook with arguments and dirty laundry?"
The Turners were fools in Will's opinion. Pitiful fools. It was understandable to wear mask outside, but to bring it inside? Will knew that despite the pictures showing smiles that put those cheesy family commercials to shame, the resentment nursed inside each of the members of the Turners. There was always something. Parents neglecting children, broken promises – and to compensate their absence, the gifts stacked higher. But no amount of presents could appease the betrayed feelings of a child.
Will grunted in agreement, "False faces in family portraits. Layers and layers of lies betrayed by a sad glint in a child's eyes."
He could feel Jack's gaze on him but he made no indication to flag himself.
"Norman Rockwell with a bullet," Price suddenly interjected.
"Any signs of forced entry?" Jack asked the others as Will tuned the voices out, leaving behind a small lucidity to pick up things that he deemed as important.
'Why here?' Will mused as his eyes roamed over the pictures again. 'Why did I kill you in the dining room?'
Was there a motive behind it? To choose the dining room to be the Turners' resting place?
Another picture of Jesse Turner caught his eyes, but he wasn't alone and he was younger.
The mother sweetly looked on his only son, gently placing a kiss on top of his forehead. The younger Jesse seemed to savour the attention that he'd gotten from his mother. On top of him lay a stuffed toy – an octopus – that the boy appeared to be chewing on one of the tentacles.
Will closed his eyes, a swinging pendulum in the back of his mind.
He imagined a small boy, laughing, as he was being cradled by his mother. Jesse Turner was a happy child when he was younger. He was the only son, Mrs. Turner most probably doted on him. The thing was Mr. Turner didn't agree, believing that males shouldn't be coddled and the fact that Jesse took after Mrs. Turner didn't help either. Mr. Turner showed his biasness towards his children since Jesse was young. 'Bullied' by his two sisters and the father. He didn't win.
'Is that why Jesse disappeared?'
Mrs. Turner must've been broken-hearted at the loss – missing, his mind supplied – of her only son.
" – the shooter was firing from low to high, probably crouched."
"Or maybe they were Hobbits." Price retorted jokingly.
The statements stroke a chord of oddness for Will.
"When was Jesse abducted?"
"Uh, a little over year ago." Jack answered.
Will nodded absently before staring at the picture again.
Something didn't add up.
The frustrating thing was his mind seemed to grasp the answer but had difficulty in translating the information into tangible sense. Like an itch that he couldn't scratch. It was there, but it wasn't reachable.
~X~
Plop.
A drop of water fell.
Plop.
Another one.
Plop – and Henrikas opened his eyes.
Tall green trees loomed all over, surrounding him with leaves and branches overhead, swaying gently at the slightest breath of air. He stared into the clusters of trees, penetrated through with buttery beams of early morning sun. Sounds of birds chirping and insects buzzing – along with the faint noise of waterfall could be heard in the background. It was a medley of nature, the oldest melody that had always managed to soothe Henrikas, physically and mentally.
'This is how my mind looks like?'
Henrikas breathed in awe as he trudged forward, planting his palm over one of the trunks when he noticed a used trail. Following the path, the overgrown grass rustled when he went through them, tickling Henrikas' legs like soft touches of a caring hand. Henrikas startled, only now realising that he was wearing short pants and not his usual slacks. His turtle-neck shirt was changed too, currently he was wearing the clothes that he had worn when he first met Hannibal. He wondered at the significance of it.
When Henrikas stopped in his track to appreciate the nature, a clearing came into his sight.
A timbered, fair-sized house was situated in the middle of it. The porch was humble and was only decorated with a single rocking chair. It wasn't as picturesque as Hannibal's house, more inclined to minimalistic in nature, but Henrikas thought that it was quite charming. Despite the air of desolateness it gave, somehow Henrikas felt warm just by looking at it, this house was very familiar to him.
A sudden realisation jolted through at the nostalgic feeling. "Was this…my home?"
Henrikas expected that the wooden beams would give a creak under his weight when he stepped into the porch because it looked quite rickety, but surprisingly he didn't hear a peep. A soft tinkling sound grabbed his attention and Henrikas noted a crude looking wind chime swayed gently, it was an assembly of shells, glasses and polished branches. There was childish scrawling of 'Herkus', 'Mama' and 'Tėti' on the wood.
'Did I make those?' Henrikas touched the wind chime, feeling somewhat amused and disappointed that he didn't recall anything about it.
There were several short lines on the door frame barely reaching to Henrikas' height. He touched the marks and remembered how his mother would measure his height each time he asked for it. A hint of exasperation enveloped him when he noticed that there weren't much improvement from his current height.
He hoped now that he wasn't a prisoner of those damn imbeciles, he could finally reach a normal height for his age. Henrikas highly doubt that he could gain back his old body though he would greatly welcomed it if that was the case. Being this small made it difficult for him to hunt.
Henrikas opened the door expecting to see an abandoned parlour and was taken aback when only darkness could be noted as far as his eyes could see. The lack of light was highly disconcerting, seeming as though that the shadow had swallowed the space wholly – leaving behind no trace of anything that could indicate another presence of living beings had ever lived here.
"What the…?" Henrikas frowned uneasily and looked at his back, the same homey looking entrance of his house, and to the inside of the house again; pitch black.
For a long moment, he had simply stared at the darkness of the room, so dark that it was like staring into an abyss, before he steeled himself and took the first step and another. The sound of his footsteps punctuated with a gentle ring, like a distant bell, resonated through the dark space.
Henrikas gasped when each step materialised a green vein-like thing, like an endless loops of ferns, branching widely. It diverged and converged, pulling taut at each other until it stopped in front of him and grew – bigger and bigger. He took a step back, taking care to maintain a few inches of cautious distance between himself and the thing. A solid plane of the fern-like thing was then formed. The veins wavered in and out of existence until it took a shape of a door.
Henrikas blinked.
The door was blue in colour, stiff, and seemingly large enough that it towered over him. Henrikas touched it warily, feeling the smooth wood beneath his fingertips before he pushed it open.
The sound it made was ominous. Creaking. Heavy. Loud.
He found himself staring out into dozens of doors, they were a jumbled of disarray. The doors, with a variety of colours, were placed all over the place. Several were upside down, some on the ground – and looking up, he found several others were hovering in the air, hanging motionlessly.
Telling in its own way that his mind was chaotic.
Henrikas stepped closer to one of the doors. It was brown, and most of the parts of the woods were chipped off and the knob had a slight rust covering over it. Putting his hand over the handle, he twisted it only to find that the door was locked.
He frowned, fumbling with the knob and staring at the door for a moment longer before he left. Testing the door beside him – it was light red in colour – he found that it was also locked, tight and solid.
Henrikas growled, frustration swelled, and went to another door and paused when the door opened without protest when he twisted the doorknob.
The door was light purple in colour this time, soft and inviting.
Henrikas observed the other doors and to the slightly ajar door in front of him, biting his lower lip and considering his options. Nursing a small apprehension, he opened the door and peered curiously inside.
The same dark room greeted him.
'No, not the same,' he thought as he squinted against the darkness, 'there's something in here.'
Frowning, he opened the door a bit wider and stepped inside, only to find that the room didn't have a firm ground to step on.
And he fell.
.
.
.
"Mama, Mama, look…!"
He excitedly ran towards his mother who was leaning against the tree. She was whistling softly to the bird that perched on her finger. The woman smiled warmly when she looked at him.
"What do you have there, mielasis?" she enquired, her voice as smooth as velvet.
He felt himself grinning as he gingerly opened his hand, "A grassyper!"
"A grasshopper," his mother corrected after she chuckled. "Grass-hop-per."
"Gwass-hop-per," Herkus mimicked, trying his best to avoid from accidentally biting his tongue in the process. Mama and Tėtis were trying to teach him English, much to his displeasure. Why couldn't they speak their own language instead? Herkus hated how often he stumbled into the words that he didn't know how to pronounce.
His mother grinned and patted his head, "Clever boy, now, what are you doing with that little bug, Herkus?"
"It walks funny, Mama. Jumping like a fwog," he said and showed it to his mother again. "Can I kill it?"
His mother gently placed a hand over his, brows furrowing. "Herkus, Mama wants you to open your hands."
He tilted his head, staring at his clasped hands then to his mother, "Gwass-hop-per go?"
She nodded, smiling, "Yes, I want you to let it go."
"Why?"
"Because Mama doesn't want you to kill the little grasshopper," she said.
"Okay," he said, dejected, and watched as the green insect hopped away from his palm.
"Come here, mielasis."
Herkus immediately snuggled into her inviting arms. His mother's scent was the best. Herkus particularly liked the scent that radiated from her skin; the smell was so fresh and lovely, like morning dew and mint. If he inhaled the scent deep enough, he could smell his father's scent too, they were comforting.
"Do you know why Mama won't let you kill it?"
He blinked and tilted his head so that he could stare into his mother's green eyes, "Because it's bad?"
His mother smiled and bopped his nose, "Yes, that's right. It's a bad thing to do to those poor insects."
"What about Tėti?" Henrikas asked, "Teti kills, um, hoomans…so, can I kill them too?"
"Humans, mielasis. Hu-mans," she smiled, "That's different. You and Tėtis need to eat human meat. And no, you can't kill a human right now."
"Why?" he asked confusedly.
His mother chuckled, embracing him tighter and Herkus was only too pleased to comply. "Because you're too young, mielasis."
He pondered this for a moment before grinning toothily, "When I'm older?"
She mirrored his grin, "I'm sure that Tėti will enjoy your company."
"What about you, Mama?" he asked after a moment.
"What about me, mielasis?" she hummed.
"What Mama eats? Mama needs to eat hu-man meat too?"
She shook her head, "Mama is different, baby. Mama doesn't need to eat human's meat like you and Tėti."
"But Mama eats meat at dinner?" he asked, perplexed. Herkus remembered his mother ate the meat that his father had hunted.
The woman grinned, "Mama doesn't need to eat meat but...Mama enjoys eating them."
He blinked and considered the information, "Is that why Tėti is happy when you eat meat?"
She laughed.
Henrikas opened his eyes and groaned. Getting into a sitting position, he nursed his head which had started to ease its pounding. Squinting, he noticed that he was sitting while facing the light purple coloured door.
The 'ground' didn't seem to be falling apart.
Gingerly standing up, he then noticed new additions on the place. Instead of pitch black like before, the room held a hint of purple instead, much like the door's colour, and in the middle of it was a bookshelf.
The bookshelf was painfully bare and upon inspecting, he noted that it was his recent memory that he had gained. He snorted at seeing the drawing of a grasshopper on the cover of the book.
He smiled at the memory, his mother didn't condone him being cruel to helpless insects but overlooked the fact that he and his father needed to eat human meat to survive. She'd even enjoyed eating them. Henrikas briefly wondered if she had ever joined with his father during one of the hunting.
Ignoring the longing in his heart, Henrikas observed the other books and realised rather belatedly that they were all memories of him and his parents. There was even that one with the leaf thingy – the one where his father had accidentally destroyed the leaf in process. He chuckled when he recalled the scene.
He left the door with a heavy heart, turning one last glance at the bookshelf before he closed the door gently. Henrikas ingrained the door's colour in his mind for later visits.
Henrikas had only one objective for today; he wanted to search the source where his nightmares came from, particularly the one that affected his perception towards Hannibal. It was great that his little testing had come into fruition on the first try, he should use the opportunity appropriately.
Walking across the hallway, Henrikas absently observed the wide range of coloured doors before his movement halted at seeing one that had caught his attention.
Goosebumps prickled all over his skin at seeing the black door. The only reason why he had noticed it in the first place was because it was framed with white coloured woods which had been spoilt and turned into a pale yellow and brown on the edge as if it was corroded for years. The aura that it gave wasn't exactly inviting Henrikas to take a step further either.
Turning away from the most disconcerting door, he continued his pace hurriedly. Anxiety turned into annoyance when he circled the place a few times without knowing where his destination was.
'I wouldn't be in this situation if not for her,' he thought angrily.
Now that he had thought about it, if the pest had never woken up in the first place, Hannibal, Mr. Will and Alana hadn't needed to go to Minnesota. Henrikas wouldn't be left alone in that stupid hellhole of a day care and he certainly wouldn't meet that creep.
A sudden creak halted his movement.
On his left, a dark green door had opened by itself.
Henrikas warily stepped closer, hands reaching the doorknob and gingerly closed it. He observed the door for a long minute before shrugging and moved along.
Not three steps taken and he heard the same ill-omened creak.
Again, the same door had opened for him.
"You really want me to go inside, huh?" he asked to no one in particular. "Alright – fine."
Opening the door wider, he stared into the room cautiously. Similar to before, the place was void from any light. He hesitantly put a foot forward, tapping on the ground experimentally. Assuring himself that the same would not happen for the second time, Henrikas entered the dark green door room.
Nothing happened.
Henrikas frowned, waiting a single more heartbeat but there was nothing. Only silence. Frustrated at being played by his own mind, he turned away, intending to exit from there when a faint squelch was heard. Lifting his foot, he grimaced when he noticed a sticky liquid trailed along with his shoe as if it was caught in a spider web. Underneath his shoe laid a red squashed bug. He crouched to examine it closer.
It was a familiar bug, it was the one he used as an excuse to scare the pest.
"What – "
Henrikas didn't manage to fully voice out his confusion as his knees suddenly buckled and he fell to the ground. At the same time, his stomach made an uncomfortable impression, coiling meanly and hot and too much.
Then, flashes of images passed through his mind in rapid succession – Hannibal, Mr. Will and the pest.
Hannibal, Mr. Will and the pest.
Hannibal, Mr. Will and the pest.
…!
Henrikas choked at the intense emotion he felt and coughed when he felt his throat clogged up. Heaving for air, Henrikas reached blindly, eyes stinging with tears before he tried to crawl out of the room. It felt painfully long as he dragged himself to the doorway.
As soon as the last of his body passed by the frame of the dark green door, the air came easily to him. He gulped the oxygen greedily, coughing and gagging and breathing.
When he managed to get his bearing back to normal, he scowled heavily at the room which had now placed a bookshelf at the center. The wall was painted dark green as if the colour of the door had seeped through the room. Standing up, he closed the door harshly, relishing on the loud sound it resounded.
A wrong door.
Letting out a sigh, Henrikas let himself fell on the floor; exhausted.
'It will be bloody nice if this place has a sofa somewhere.'
The next time he blinked, a sofa had suddenly materialized in front of him, still and firm. It was the same sofa he had claimed as his own in the living room of Hannibal's house. The texture of the deep red cushion was similar as the real one. He patted the furniture, testing, before plopping down.
'So, I can make things appear in my mind,' he mused thoughtfully. 'That makes sense – this is my mind after all. I can do whatever I want here.'
Henrikas considered this information for a moment before he thought to conjure his bed.
It didn't appear.
Closing his eyes, he tried again but still – no bed.
He frowned, rubbing his chin absently as he leaned against the cushion.
He thought about his colour pencils instead, remembering each and every colour of them, the length, the sharpness, the quantity.
Henrikas smirked when it appeared in front of him. Bending to pick up the box, he inspected every inch and corner of it. It was the same as his real one.
'So vivid imagination counts,' he nodded absently. 'Does that mean that the door had opened by itself because I was thinking of her?'
Placing the pencils case beside him, Henrikas put both of his palms together, intertwined, and placed them beneath his chin. He tilted his head sideway, pondering. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes.
'Show me the door that I want – that I need.'
Opening his eyes, he found that there was only one door left.
A dull yellow coloured door.
Henrikas gulped, anxiety increased, as he hesitantly trudged forward. He blinked when he noted that the hallway seemed to stretch away when he took a step further. Henrikas stopped; body tensed.
"Come to me," he ordered, tone clipped.
The door abruptly zoomed forward to him, moving closer and closer until it stopped just within his arm's reach.
Henrikas' lips thinned when the door opened by itself. A torrent of whispery voices slipped through the gap, males and females alike.
"Harry, come over here and play."
"Tu as un corps tellement magnifique." (You have such a beautiful body.)
"Do you like it when I do this to you?"
"You filthy thing – look at yourself. You're a slut, aren't you, Harry?"
"Harry."
"Harry."
"Shut up!" Henrikas yelled, body trembling in anger and disgust, "All of you, shut the bloody fuck up!"
The voices abruptly fell into silent.
Henrikas staggered backward, arms crossed over his middle. He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself down but only managed to produce a hitched sob and a tiny whimper. With shaky knees, he slumped onto the ground again, sniffling.
He was scared.
He didn't want to enter the room – he knew what he'd find behind the dull yellow door.
He didn't want to.
"I will never harm you."
"Hann–" he sobbed, "Hannibal. I–I'm sorry."
"There is no need to be frighten, Herkus."
"I–I can't. I–I don't," he keened softly, "I'm scared."
"You're safe here. I will never harm you."
Henrikas choked back a gasp when Hannibal's voice became faint at the same time he winced as another flash of images, scenes, played through in front of his eyes.
"Tėti will protect you and Mama, Herkus."
Herkus pouted at his father at the same time the older Creature laughed; his blonde hair shook at the motion. "But I wanna pwotect you and Mama too…!"
The man grinned, his bangs fell over his eyes as he leaned closer and kissed his forehead, "Of course, mielasis. We protect each other."
"Even Mama?"
His father smiled, showing a row of sharp white teeth, "Especially your Mama. Between you and me, Herkus, Mama makes a pretty good job protecting us."
"Weally?" he asked curiously, tilting his head. "Awen't Tėti the stwongest?"
The man laughed loudly and stood up. Stretching out, he picked Herkus up and swung him to his hips, Herkus automatically placed his hands over his father's shoulder, head leaning against the solid warmth.
"Of course," he said, low and soothing, "So, you don't ever have to worry, mielasis. You're safe here. Mama and Tėtis will never let anything happen to you."
Henrikas cried. His heart ached painfully. Oh how he missed his parents so much.
His father and mother had kept their promise, but at the cost of their own lives. They gave their lives to protect him – him, a blubbering mess who was too coward to face his own ghosts from the past.
That thought didn't sit well with Henrikas.
Gathering all of his strength left in him, he pushed himself up, as his eyes fell onto the 'innocent' looking door.
"Mama, Tėti," he murmured, quickly rubbing his face with the back of his hand until the trace of the tears were gone. "Please watch over me."
Conviction determined, he strode across the door, teeth gritting when the whispers and voices from unknown lips reverberated in his ear drums, taunting him with past promises and abuses.
"Yes, just stay like that, boy," a panting voice said, slurring at the edge, "Umph, you feel so good."
Henrikas pushed the memory away and trudged forward.
"My Harry," a high octave voice spoke, excitement laced on her tone, "My Harry – you're so beautiful just like this. So pliant. So accepting."
He pushed that away too, biting his lips until they were bleeding to keep his focus.
'Where are you?' Henrikas thought, frustrated, as different scenes popped up – each time becoming more and more nauseating and disturbing. 'Where are you?'
And then he saw it.
A flicker of light red among the sickly pale yellow, the former was latched onto one of the latter.
He immediately reached that glimmer and gasped when he saw images of Hannibal ran passed through him.
Hannibal's infuriating smirk.
Hannibal walking around the kitchen confidently as he watched the older cannibal cooked.
Hannibal who offered him a place that he could claim as home.
The images distorted heavily right then. Changing his memories of Hannibal into one of the familiar bedroom – the place that he'd been placed whenever a 'patron' was visiting.
"Take off your clothes, boy."
It was Hannibal's face but the voice was all wrong. The older cannibal's expression was highly disturbing; there was a sick glint in his eyes as he stepped forward.
"You're not him," he stated, mouth pursing, "You're not Hannibal."
"Didn't you hear me?" the not-Hannibal yelled, "Take off your clothes!"
In a distant, Henrikas could hear sobbing and a faint rustling. He gritted his teeth.
"Yes, yes, what a good boy you are," he said, "Joli garçon." (Pretty boy.)
Henrikas stilled.
"It's you," he exclaimed, a sudden realisation, "You're the one with the weird fetish for French language."
Hannibal's face melted. The ash blonde hair turned chestnut, the russet eyes changed to pale blue, the high cheekbones gone and cheeks were filled out until it gave out a rosy plump flush.
"Oui, oui, juste comme ça," he said, breath heaving, "Maintenant, retourne-toi pour moi." (Yes, yes, just like that. Now turn around for me.)
Henrikas recoiled in shock and disgust when he noticed that he was suddenly naked. Eyes widened in alarmed, he took a step back when the unknown man grinned disconcertingly at him.
"Viens ici, Harry." (Come here, Harry.)
"This is not happening – you're not here," Henrikas spoke harshly, quick and desperate, "This is only a memory – my memory. In my mind."
'Yes,' he thought with an epiphany, 'It's my mind – I can do whatever I want!'
When the man took a step closer, Henrikas yelled, "Get me out of here…!"
He held his breath; anxious. Hesitantly opening his eyes – he wasn't aware that he had closed them – Henrikas found himself staring at the dull yellow door which was now closed.
Henrikas also had a book in his hand.
It had a pale red cover and the aura that radiated from it was warmth and safety – just like the books in the room of the light purple door.
He slumped into the ground, letting out a small laugh which escalated to a hysterical one before he sobbed and gripped the book tight to his chest.
Hannibal, his mind supplied, it was Hannibal's book.
"I did it," he murmured, "I did it." Tracing the book with his fingertips almost reverently, Henrikas chuckled wetly, "How did you get lost inside that?"
Gingerly standing up, Henrikas stared at the dull yellow door with a small apprehension. He bit his lower lips, grip tightened around the book and let the presence comforted him.
'Lock the room.'
There was a sound of heavy chain. When Henrikas opened his eyes, he saw that the room was sealed with a lock at the centre. He warily reached it before stopping halfway, fist clenched.
"Get out of my sight."
The door vanished without a sound and Henrikas let out a relieved sigh. Feeling a weight had loaded off of his chest, he smiled as he brought up the book closer for examination. He caressed the book gently.
"Now, where do you actually belong?"
Henrikas let out a startled huff when a sudden rush of wind blew his hair. Frowning, he saw a familiar coloured door.
It was the second door that he tried; it was locked when he checked, but he had a feeling that it wasn't the case now.
"Am I supposed to go inside?" he asked, staring at the book in his hand.
Of course it gave him no answer.
Henrikas tentatively opened the door and gasped.
Inside, the room was an exact replica of his bedroom – the only new addition it had was a bookshelf beside the wardrobe as opposed at the centre like the rooms before this.
He stepped inside, feeling awed at his own mind for conjuring up his room when the others had just turned into a different colour. Patting his pillow, he relished on the real sensation it gave against his palm, soft and fluffy.
He stood in front of the bookshelf. Carefully placing the book in his hand among the arranged row of books, he traced the spine of the others, smiling when familiar memories of him and Hannibal gently brushed against his mind. His smile widened when he noted about half of them had contained Mr. Will.
'Thank you, both of you.'
Henrikas stayed in the room for a little longer, picking up his fondest memories and relished in them before he left the room. Leaving it behind was difficult – like the light purple door one had been, but he forced himself out.
He wanted to spend more time in the room where his memories with his parents resided, but didn't know how long, in the real world, the time had passed.
'Maybe next time,' he thought dejectedly before beaming up. 'At least I know that it works.'
Henrikas missed talking to the older cannibal, missed playing a light banter with each other – he even missed Hannibal teasing him. He couldn't wait to see the result of his hard work. Staring at Hannibal should be no problem for him now.
Closing the humongous blue door, Henrikas felt a skip on his step as he continued forward to the front door. Squinting his eyes when he was greeted with the soft light, he took in a deep breath and sighed contently, shutting the door shut behind him.
Henrikas tried dismissing himself from his mind, but he couldn't. He ended up trying to find his way back to the first place he came into his awareness, thinking maybe it would provide him with a clue on how to return to the real world. When he had mind walked Mrs. Kelly, he had done the same after all – returning to the first place he'd been – and he got out just fine so he wasn't particularly concerned about it.
While he was walking, he felt something wrong in the air.
It was silent – too silent.
Goosebumps prickling up his arm to his neck until he could feel every thread of hair on him standing upright. Danger, his mind screamed.
He didn't see anything at first, but the alarm bell that rang warningly inside his head kept him in defensive posture, though he was still considering a flight or flee response.
Then he saw it.
On one of the trees, the colour of a deep brown trunk turned to black in an instant. It spread rapidly to the others and Henrikas swallowed thickly at the familiar sight.
In the middle of the trail he saw the black glob. It laid there, motionless, and was just there. The thing didn't seem to notice his presence.
Taking a step back, Henrikas cursed when there was a sound of a broken branch.
It looked at him then.
Henrikas ran away immediately. Panting, he sprinted blindly across the woods only to find himself out into the clearing again – his old house stood as firm and solid as before. He dashed through the porch, hand stretched out as far as he could to reach the knob.
He let out a panicked whimper when it wouldn't open.
Feeling his shackles rising again, Henrikas turned, leaning against the door breathlessly and stared in shock at the darkened surrounding.
The thing had turned all of the trees into ashes and shadow.
Henrikas yelled, pounding in the door harshly, desperate, as he twisted the handle again and again but to no avail.
'Leave, leave, leave, leave,' he chanted in his mind, closing his eyes, 'Let me out of here, let me wake up, let me wake up!'
Henrikas yelped when the solid wall he was leaning against had suddenly disappeared, making him tumbling down into the grass. Grunting, he took a half sitting position before noticing a shadow was looming in front of him.
Trembling, he raised his head and felt a clog in his throat at the sight of it towered over him menacingly as if to engulf him.
Henrikas screamed.
~X~
Hannibal blinked when he detected another canine's fur caught within the seams of his suit. Plucking it gingerly, Hannibal released it from between his fingers to see it carried by the breeze. He went inside his house after Mrs. Kelly had exited, listening to the silence of the building from the foyer before he made his way through the stairs, hallway and into the master bedroom.
Herkus was still asleep as claimed by the caretaker that he had hired.
Hannibal wasn't inclining to trust her words explicitly, considering her previous mistake of not informing him about the state of his charge's well-being to him. Mrs. Kelly was still his employee because Hannibal couldn't find a substitute caretaker, one that had the same credibility as her – without the penchant for withholding severe information.
Changing his clothes, Hannibal was fastening the last of the button on his shirt when a piercing scream rang through the house, high pitched and desperate.
It was the sound that most of his meals had made when he had finally decided to put them out of misery.
Hannibal sprinted across the room to his charge's door, twisting the knob open. His lips thinned when the pitch increased its intensity, the screeching resonated in his eardrums, a sharp prickling edge. The door of the bathroom was opened and inside it laid his young charge on the marbled floor. Herkus was thrashing, hands fighting unknown ghosts, as he continued to wail long and hard.
Using a split second of the boy's faltered movement, Hannibal caught Herkus' hands in one hand and his legs using the other. Hannibal took a moment to notice that the boy was small enough that he'd been able to stop the jerky movements just by using his hands. Hannibal was slightly settled when he noted that Herkus was only caught up in his nightmares instead of a fit.
"Herkus, listen to me. Listen to my voice," Hannibal said, above the sound of screaming, shushing the boy as gently as he could while keeping the firm grasps against him, "Herkus, you're fine. You're safe. You need to wake up. Listen to my voice. You're safe."
The boy's scream eased considerably, turning into a slight choked sob before he opened his eyes; they were glassy and wet with tears.
"Tė-, Tė," the boy half-sobbed, half-panted, but he still couldn't get the words out.
Hannibal slackened his grip over the boy, hushing him, and let out an unexpected grunt when the boy barrelled into his middle and clung unto him tightly. Tiny arms hung over his neck in a death-grip holding firm and unflinching. Hannibal could feel the tears wet his collarbone as he continued to shush the little cannibal, rubbing comfortingly on his back.
He stood, carrying the boy along as he exited the room and entered the master bedroom. Putting on the record player, he played Pachelbel: Canon and Gigue in D major before he continued to pat and rub the boy's back. Herkus was still crying, but the intensity had lessened somewhat and Hannibal noted his breath hitched every now and then.
When Hannibal tried to release the boy's grip from his shirt to place him on his bed, the little cannibal panicked and clutched tighter.
"Ne!" the boy shouted. (No!)
Hannibal was momentarily surprised at the word before he shushed the boy again, calming him down. "Viskas gerai, Herkau, tai buvo tik sapnas." (It's alright, Herkus. It's just a dream.)
"Tėti," Herkus whimpered. "Tėti."
He stilled for a moment and carefully looked at his charge that was clinging tightly at him. It seemed that Herkus was mistaken him for his father again, he mused absently while he kept patting on the shuddering shoulders.
"Kas negerai?" Hannibal asked softly. "Ką pamatei?" (What's wrong? What did you see?)
"Ten pabaisa, tėti," came a hesitant and vulnerable voice of the little cannibal. Hannibal barely heard him over the music playing in the air. "Man baisu." (There's monsters, Daddy. I'm scared.)
Herkus looked up from his chest, a tear spilling over. Hannibal wiped it away using his thumb, savouring the smooth, pale skin against his finger. Hannibal revelled in the flushed cheeks and tears streaked face of his charge. His nose had reddened irritably, sinus clogging up, as the boy sniffled pitifully. Herkus' long eyelashes wet with unshed tears, batting heavily against the pale skin.
The boy didn't avert his gaze away this time, only staring at him with a dazed look. There was confusion on his face before those green eyes clenched tightly, the expression turned into pain.
"Herkus?" Hannibal said, alarmed, as he brushed the little cannibal's bangs away.
When Herkus opened his eyes again, creasing brows smoothed out, there was no longer confusion and innocence in those eyes, only jaded and wariness could be seen, like the first time he saw Herkus.
"Hannibal?"
Before Hannibal could reply, the boy suddenly slumped backwards and it was only due to Hannibal's quick reflex that prevented the boy from tumbling down. He examined the boy only to realise that he had fallen into sleep due to exhaustion. Hannibal sighed in relief before chuckling, knuckles caressing the boy's cheek.
Hannibal's lips thinned at the sight of the bags underneath the little cannibal's eyes. He returned the boy to his bedroom, gingerly placed him on the bed, and kissed his forehead.
"Sleep well, little Herkus."
The End…
…just kidding! I don't even get to write half of the story yet – and there's still so many unanswered questions. XD
If you're observant, I 'introduced' a stranger's name in this chapter which is…? You don't know? Go read it back! *Insert evil laugh* It's not a full name, btw, just a nickname.
Did you realise that Herkus is a bit mean to Alejandro? Poor boy. XD
Hoho, Hannibal is getting curious/suspicious about Herkus' nightmare! What will Herkus do about it? Now that I think about it...there's a lot of chapters where I ended with Herkus being asleep. Lol. He's a growing 'child' – and don't tell me you guys don't like the fluffiness between Herkus/Hannibal interaction?
Hint for next chapter :
1. Forgotten memories.
2. A missing kid.
3. General.
Enough hint for you? Stay tune in Gaining Innocence to read more interactions between Herkus, Hannibal and Will! Fluffy/angst/protective-feelings/betrayal are guaranteed! XD
Once again, credits are given to HarryPotterSlashFreakyFan as my Beta reader, Lulubell Alynn as my French translator and Cherrymix'e as my Lithuanian translator! Give them a big round of applause!
Thanks to those who reviews, follows and favourites!
As always, reviews, thoughts or ideas are greatly welcome with open arms. If you want to PM me to ask questions or just want to have a conversation go ahead! Have a great day, dear readers!