Chapter 21: Letters From An Old Friend
Alana watched Will wearily, as he sat in the armchair, Winston's head on his lap, and opened the letter using his Swiss army knife. She had warned him against opening it, but he'd simply shaken his head, saying that he was owed an explanation. That he wanted to hear from him one last time and that would be it. Gone. Just a collection of scars and gaping holes in his consciousness. He needed the closure. Or he hoped the letter would bring closure, anyway. Despite the time passing, Hannibal Lecter appeared more frequently in Will's mind than he would have liked to admit, both as the person suit, and as the Wendigo.
Will wondered if Sherlock had received a letter too, wherever he was now. Or would Hannibal find it more emprofitable/em to wait. Even when he pictured him behind bars, or wearing a straightjacket and muzzle, Hannibal still felt like a threat, only now there was a more blatant savagery about him. Will couldn't decide which was more disturbing, the Hannibal who wore a person suit, or the Hannibal who had shed the person suit and had nothing left to hide. The envelope was stamped to show that it had been checked by staff at Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Twice.
Dearest Will,
I wish you a belated congratulations on your freedom. They wouldn't allow me to write until now. I am impressed. It is a shame I could not have seen you marinate for a little longer, before your release. For this turn of events, we can thank our mutual friend. They beat you to it, Will. Don't you wish it had been you who shot me? You wouldn't have missed, would you, Will? Or would you? Maybe your flavor has developed a little since I last saw you. I would like to see you again, Will. You should visit sometime. They have a lovely little chair outside the cell for you to sit on. Of course, you know all about that. Though you mustn't pass any paperclips through the tray. Funny how not long ago, they would hand me a dying body and allow me the control and tools to save or to destroy it, yet now they realize a paperclip would be enough to end them all. Remember when I killed Tobias Budge and Franklyn? They practically applauded me.
You could never have been the copycat killer, Will. Not yet, anyway. Maybe you can take to fixing boats now. Your aftershave already smells as such, and I assume you are retiring.
My shoulder is healing well; I'm sure you wondered. Frederick Chilton came to visit yesterday; Abel Giddeon should have killed him; he is as ignorant as he is proud. Though he will doubtless see this as flattery when he intercepts this mail.
I will see you soon, Will. Keep in contact and give my love to Alana. I imagine she didn't want you to read this. There are a lot of years ahead of us, and I look forward to seeing you again: perhaps we shall dine together some day. Until then, I think of you often.
Your old friend,
Hannibal Lecter
Oh, and the case Jack's working on - The Tooth Fairy is the tabloid name? I believe I may be of assistance. If you are interested, you know where to find me.
AN: Thank you to everyone who has read, favourited, followed or reviewed this story. I have enjoyed writing it so much, and just wanted to keep on writing it forever (and maybe, fingers crossed, we'll see a sequel someday)! As always, let me know your thoughts! If you're interested, I have a Wordpress blog, which you can find the address of on my profile. I have written a series of posts on what it really means to be an introvert, and how introverts are becoming a neglected creative resource, which I think a lot of you might be able to relate to! Thank you all again for your support!