I do not own anything related to Hannibal, either thru television, or written books. Everything belongs to Thomas Harris and Bryan Fuller. I do own all the created characters. I do not own any songs, or literature mentioned. They are included to enhance the written words. Please read, review, and enjoy!
Chapter 36
Song(s): Devil's Trill Sonata Violin Sonata in G Minor (Giuseppe Tartini), Post Modern Sleaze (Sneaker Pimps)
Dr. Hannibal Lecter's Residence, 51 Springlake Way, Baltimore, MD…
Watching her friend lifting his fork covered in minted peas to his mouth, Oliveah listened to Hannibal's chuckle as he took up his wine glass.
"I mean come on, the news reporter that actually gets to sit down and interview the son of a bitch is going to be raking in the money like crazy" Andrew spoke, wiping his mouth as he looked to Oliveah.
"God Andrew, you'd better not be thinking of Freddie Lounds" she sneered, imagining Hannibal sitting handcuffed and shackled across from the petite curly red head as she chomped at the bit with a twitchy finger ready to upload onto her poor excuse for a website.
"That's not journalism, that's tabloid" he spoke, catching Hannibal's nod as the Doctor folded up his napkin.
"And on that positive note, I will need a few minutes to prepare dessert."
Keeping her eyes firmly trained on his back as he disappeared around the corner, Oliveah drummed her fingers against the bottom of her wine glass as her best friend rose to his feet.
"Man, look at this artwork, those aren't reproduced prints" he spoke, moving behind Oliveah's chair to check out the fireplace.
"I take back if I said anything earlier about this place needing a woman's touch. I don't think it would come close to what he's done here, and I've kept up on my GQ and Vogue subscriptions."
You'd die if you saw the basement beneath your feet Andrew.
Literally
Running his thumb along the sharp edge of the fireplace, Oliveah raised her eyes and blinked quickly as she spied Will Graham raising his gun…
"WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?"
Slowly bringing her eyes back onto the decorated table, she remembered her feet leaving the ground and the strong arms that held her securely and protectively.
Hearing the crash of shattering glass, she felt the wood of the table top holding her weight as a voice broke out.
"My word Dr. Lecter, do you ever have a full plate this evening…"
"The art pieces that you have displayed are gorgeous."
Hearing Andrew's voice, Oliveah snapped her attention back to the present as she watched Hannibal carrying in three small plates of the most delicious chocolate cake she had ever seen
Go ahead Andrew, ask him if it's from Whole Foods
"Olive's favorite."
Smiling up at Hannibal as he scowled for the second time of the evening on her nickname, Oliveah gave a slight shrug of her shoulder as he lightly squeezed.
"A woman with good taste" he smiled, unbuttoning his suit jacket and taking his seat.
Perking his ears up as he caught the light notes of music coming from invisible speakers, Andrew swallowed his mouthful of cake and opened his mouth to speak.
"What song is playing? I've heard it before."
"The Devil's Trill Sonata in G Minor by Giuseppe Tartini composed in 1798 which has a very interesting story if you have never heard it" Hannibal spoke, catching Oliveah's eye as she sat her fork down on the edge of her plate.
Why is this not sitting right?
"I've never heard the story."
"Tartini had a dream in the dead of night that the Devil had appeared to him at the foot of his bed, requesting that he become his servant. This piece, is a poor reflection in Giuseppe's eyes and ears of what the Devil played for him on the violin as a test of skill for his soul."
For his soul
"Wow, you hear nothing like that anymore. Anyone who says they've seen the Devil is denounced as crazy or a religious fanatic" Andrew announced as Oliveah pushed her plate of cake away and looked to Hannibal.
"Many have claimed to have been visited by the Devil, but I wonder how many have actually seen the Devil?"
…
Taking her keys out of her pocket, she sectioned off the only silver and turned it in the lock of her dorm door. Pushing it open, she moved over to the desk lamp and watched as the small room bathed in light.
It's too quiet
Taking her Blackberry out of her bag, she scrolled through her music before bringing up the itunes app. Typing in Tartini she selected the violin sonata in g minor and sat the device on the desk.
You could have stayed the night with Hannibal
Swiping her finger across the screen, she hovered above listening to the opening notes before continuing on. Opening the drawer to her desk, she took out a single green tea bag and dumped it in her mug before moving out to the corridor. Striding into the bathroom, she filled her mug with cold water before returning to her room. Closing the door behind her, she twisted the lock and removed her black sweater, tossing it haphazardly onto the bed.
Looking at the bare walls of her room as she set the timer on the small microwave for two minutes, Oliveah crossed her arms and looked at her small calendar.
"My employment is set to end just before September, Christ, I feel like I should be looking for another job right now even before I start my TA position" she moaned, rubbing at her temples. Hearing the beeps of the microwave, she sat her tea on the shelf built into the wall beside her bed before grabbing her laptop.
Typing Devil Tartini,in the search bar, she clicked on the Wikipedia entry and was immediately met with the image of a horned-winged devil with the lower body of a man seated on the edge of a sleigh bed. Cradled in the crook of his neck, rested a violin with the bow at the ready as a man in full bedclothes and propped up, stared in horror.
Scrolling down the webpage, Oliveah's eyes met the word Background, and she settled her shoulders down against her propped up pillow.
"Tartini allegedly told the French astronomer Jerome Lalande that he had dreamed that the Devil had appeared to him and had asked to be Tartini's servant. At the end of the lesson, Tartini handed the devil his violin to rest his skill, which the devil began to play with virtuosity, delivering an intense and magnificent violin performance."
Reading the entry out loud, she felt a chill with a similar likeness of the story.
"Hannibal, you are the Devil" she whispered, thinking back to Will's lecture at the FBI Academy and the ferociousness of the mutilated bodies of ordinary men and women displayed openly on the old screen.
A torso separated from the upper half of a corpse, tongues ripped out of mouths and stuffed between pages of the Bible, a man threaded into the limbs and stump of a tree.
The Devil had appeared to her through his eyes the first time she been in his presence and he had continued to show his interest, admiration, and encouragement with her over the previous months.
Though he had put the knife within reach, she had always been the one in control of her actions.
She had always been in control…
Slamming the laptop closed, she sat it on the carpeted floor and clicked off her light. Sitting upright with her back against the cool wall, Oliveah ignored her tea as she stripped off her top and bra. Spying Hannibal's white dress shirt laid out at the end of the bed, she ignored it as she stripped off her pants.
Settling back against the pillow, she stared up at the ceiling feeling the panic slowly creeping in.
"In less than ten hours, I will sit in front of Bloom and others to hear her claims that I plagiarized parts of my thesis" she whispered, feeling the distaste in her mouth as she imagined Bloom in one of her tight dresses, her starfish pendent necklace resting against her breast bone.
"Hannibal sent Abel Gideon to kill you Alana, not me. You were lucky that he underestimated Will."
…
Dr. Hannibal Lecter's Residence, 51 Springlake Way, Baltimore, MD…
Humming the opening notes to the Devil's Trill, the handsome forty-six-year-old Doctor dipped his basting brush into the clear glass bowl for the third time, before lightly coating the strung-up arm with the fragrant mixture of olive and truffle oil.
Hearing the motorized sound of the wheelchair behind him, he paid no attention as his eyes watched the slow dropping of the oil as it pooled at the bottom of the glass enclosure.
"And what piece shall you take next?" Gideon questioned, rubbing his thumb hard against the stick remote of the chair.
Looking over his shoulder with a smile, Hannibal laid the brush to rest in the bowl.
"Not I Gideon" he smiled, catching Gideon's hard swallow as the man clenched his jaw.
"How about it Dr. Lecter? What would it take for you to leave me alone with your little girlfriend and one sharp knife?"
Moving over to the stainless-steel counter, Hannibal left the bowl to rest in the sink as he wiped his hands on his white apron.
"I wouldn't recommend it Abel. You would lose out to her and she does not intend for you to die quite so quickly" he smiled, catching Gideon's eye as the seated man angled his chair. Placing his hand in his lap, Gideon felt his teeth grinding as he stared straight at his captor.
"You relish in the role of Teacher and where you failed with Will Graham, you are making up with that girl" he taunted, steadying his nerves as Hannibal crossed his hands over his aproned front.
"You believe I failed with William Graham?" he questioned, watching as Gideon tilted his head.
"You got him committed to Chilton's intuition, made him run around like a hamster in a wheel, then you set him free, all without him breaking. Even, when he sent that orderly after you."
Feeling his tongue pushing against his front teeth, Hannibal hummed as he straightened up.
"Would it please you to know that Will has agreed to resume his therapy with me, at his own undertaking?" he smiled, catching the slight twitch along Gideon's right eye.
A slight twitch of terror
"As for Oliveah, her piece in this story is growing everyday" he spoke, watching as Gideon scoffed.
"Oh, I'd like a piece of her, a very very, different piece than what you are after Dr. Lecter."
Turning his back on the disabled surgeon, Hannibal sneered before untying the strings of his apron.
"A man can hope Cannibal"
Hearing Gideon's growl, Lecter tossed the fabric aside before pulling down the switch, bathing the stainless-steel basement in darkness.
"There is no hope for you Abel."
…
Psychology Department, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Maryland…
Tuesday morning
9:01am
Straightening her back against the uncomfortable chair, Oliveah Adler taped her fingertips against the manila folder sitting in her lap as she took a quick glimpse at her watch.
I have all my notes
I have Hannibal's comments and signature on some of my notes, I am all set.
Bring it on Alana Bloom.
Hearing the boardroom door open to her left, she brought her eyes up onto the face of Dr. Peter Adams, the Head of the Psychology Department.
"Ms. Adler, if you'd like to come in?"
Walking into the boardroom, her eyes immediately landed on Bloom as the woman squared her shoulders, folding her hands together.
I hated working for you
"Please, have a seat."
Glancing at another seated male who looked to be in his mid-thirties, Oliveah pulled out the black arm chair on her left. Taking a seat at the wooden table, she rested the file folder just in front of her before folding her hands.
She was nervous, yet she knew she had no reason to be
Just keep your anger and words in check
"Alright, thank you for coming this morning Oliveah. I see you have brought some documents, I can take those from you…"
"Actually Dr. Adams, I would like to introduce these as well as state my case right now if I may?"
Nodding his head, Adams glanced towards Alana who remained still before flipping open her notebook.
"Bill?"
"Receiving no objections, Adams clicked on the small silver tape recorder beside his notepad before nodding his head.
"We, Peter Adams, Bill Dennings, and Alana Bloom are in presence of Oliveah Adler, second year Psychology Masters student to discuss the issue and discovery of plagiarism in regards to Ms. Adler's submitted thesis concerning nature versus nurture."
Hearing the word plagiarism, she swallowed the string of curses she had lined up as she brought her eyes onto Bloom.
You won't even look at me you bitch
"Alright Oliveah, introductions are done, you may begin."
Setting her fingertips back on the manila folder, she slid it towards her before flipping it open.
"The first thing I would like to present, is my complete transcript from McGill University in Montreal. Every class was completed with at least an A and there were no accusations at all concerning plagiarism on any papers that I wrote" she began, pushing her official transcript across the table towards Dr. Adams.
"I started here at Johns Hopkins two years ago under the eye of Dr. Reynolds which then switched last September to Dr. Bloom. Never once, had I been accused of anything to put my academic career at risk, until Dr. Bloom received some insight news a few days ago that I believed caused her to try and call my thesis out of spit and frank jealousy."
Halting in his writing, Adams lifted the tip of his fountain pen off the paper as he squinted his eyes.
"Ms. Adler, your words suggest to me that you see your thesis being questioned due to reasons other than academic."
Here we go
"Yes, I believe that Dr. Bloom called my thesis into question, because she found out that I am in a relationship with her former mentor from Hopkins."
Keeping the palms of her hands down flat against the table top, her eyes watched as Dr. Adams tossed his pen down before bringing a hand up to rub at the stubble growing along his chin.
"Alana, who is the mentor Ms. Adler is referring to?"
Throwing her eyes down the length of the boardroom table, Oliveah swallowed hard as her former employer folded her hands.
"Hannibal Lecter."
"Lecter?!"
Hearing Dennings cough, she felt the man's eyes on her immediately and the instant judgement and scrutiny.
How was someone like her in a relationship with the infamous and brilliant Psychiatrist?
Was she looking for a sugar daddy?
What could a well-established professional possibly see in her?
Catching Adams eye as he gave her the once over, he settled back against his chair and hummed.
"I also have written notes and comments from Dr. Reynolds on my submitted research notes, dated…"
"How long have you been seeing Dr. Lecter?"
The question caught her off guard.
What difference does this make?
"Um, since this past December" she spoke, mentally tallying up their time to just four months.
After I discovered that he is Baltimore's notorious Chesapeake Ripper
"Your statement and your documents will be taken into consideration, but as far as I am concerned, I have read your thesis and so has Dr. Dennings and after the usual checks and a personal phone call from Dr. Lecter this morning, there are no grounds for plagiarism."
Hannibal…
Shooting his eyes off towards Alana, Adams watched as she thrusted a bunch of papers across the table.
"DAMN IT OLIVEAH! YOU'VE BEEN SLEEPING WITH HIM ALL THIS TIME?"
It was then that she felt the nervousness coming back into her entire body like a freight train.
This wasn't about questioning the validity of her thesis.
This was about how long she had been in Hannibal's inner circle, something that Alana would certainly relay back to Special Agent Jack Crawford.
This, was the establishing of a timeline.
…
Dr. Hannibal Lecter's Residence, 51 Springlake Way, Baltimore, MD…
7:12pm
Pulling open the small door to the metal wall safe, Hannibal poked his fingers along the various papers, fraudulent passports, documents, and currencies before he reached to the very back. Pulling out the ribbon tied stack of his late mother's letters and correspondences, he held them firmly in his hand before reaching back for the box.
Leaving the door open as he took a tired seat at his desk, Hannibal tossed the stack of letters aside before spying a folded piece of paper that had latched onto his mother's letters. Taking the paper between his fingers, his eyes scanned over the official document declaring he as the sole surviving male member of the Lecter family, and the option to file for his father's aristocratic title of Count.
Folding the paper back up, he tossed it aside as he reached for the closed box.
He had never thought to act on his rightful title. In his mind, it had died along with his father that summer night at the family cottage outside of Kaunas. The night his entire family had been murdered in cold blood.
Taking off the lid, his eyes fell on the limited number of jewels once belonging to his mother that he had been able to salvage as a teenager. Pulling out Mischa's bracelet, he hummed as it fit around three of his fingers but would go no further.
"Mischa…Mischa…."
The last time she had worn it her bath water had been uncomfortably cool and it was only his childish antics as an eight-year-old to blow bubbles through the fashioned metal that kept the sanity of everyone in the cottage.
Replacing the bracelet back into the box, Hannibal stared at the thin gold band that was at the center of his attention.
His mother's wedding band.
He had never given thought to marriage. Though he had seen the shared interests, love, and admiration between his own parents, he had never thought it would be something he would consider.
"Count and Countess Lecter" he breathed, picking it up and holding it close to his eyes as he took in the slight gnawing marks that littered the band.
To this day he was still amazed at his young act of bravery to throwing stones and bricks at the wolves that had surrounded the bloodied corpses of his parents. Aiming low, he had watched a stone land squarely against a snapping jaw of razor sharp teeth before he ran across the yard. Padding his father's pockets, he found nothing on him before he moved to his mother.
Staring into her lifeless eyes, he inched away from the blood he found himself kneeling in until he noticed the chewed and mangled fingers of her left hand. Spying the protruding knuckle, Hannibal reached out and lightly touched his childish fingers against her cold skin before slipping her wedding band off.
Running back to the cottage, he bit back the tears, tasting blood before slamming the door as hard as he could. Gaging on the putrid smell of stale blood, and boiled flesh that littered the open living room and kitchen, the young boy let out a scream that shook the entire foundation.
A scream that ended in a low animalistic growl.
…
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Racheeele: Thank you for your kind comments!
Americanlatinajapanesegirl: It's funny cause the character of Andrew is based off of my friend who is just like this. Happy Holidays!
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