Hello, everyone! Popping in to say that I made an instagram account under the handle KassianVale
It'd mean a lot if you could drop a follow and say hi!
Hope you enjoy today's update 3
Three weeks later, Abigail gently caressed the face of a young girl, smiling with false adoration.
"That man," said Abigail, "from therapy." She turned around and looked over her shoulder. Hannibal stood above her, eyes half-lidded yet poised with dark delight. "Is that the Will Graham that the Legacy talks about?"
Hannibal smiled and kneeled beside her, and Abigail returned to gazing at the dead girl beneath her.
"Yes," answered Hannibal. "The only human who's ever killed for us."
"For you."
Hannibal hummed at that, slipping Abigail's silver knife into her hand. His chest warmed at her words. "It was my father who took Will's parents," said Lecter, "and my father who he's after."
"Not anymore," said Abigail with a shake of her head. She glanced her fingers across the knife, its cold surface sending delighted shivers up her spine. "Your messages, your influence…"
She adjusted her grip on the knife, brushing away the girl's hair. "He doesn't know the many bringers of Death," she continued. "But he'll be expecting you."
Hannibal faintly smiled at that, and Abigail smiled back. She pressed the knife into the girl's hairline and began to grin. Lecter rose a brow at her.
"That smile," he chuckled. "What are you thinking about?"
Hobbs' eyelashes fluttered, and she glanced at Hannibal before carving a thin line across the curves of the girl's face. "You like him," said Abigail. "Don't you?"
Hannibal blinked, startled by the accusation. "I'm entirely fascinated with him," he said. "His emotions, the way he sees things…"
"Nobody's ever killed for you before," breathed Abigail as she shoved the knife under ligaments and junctures. Hannibal's brows furrowed in thought at that.
"He says that he wants to kill with me," said Lecter. "Become my friend."
Abigail set down the knife and grabbed the top of the girl's face, smoothly peeling it away with a smile. "In due time," she hummed, holding the face in her hands and admiring it. A thought came about her face, and Hannibal noticed.
"Azmaveth," she muttered, settling the face in her lap and gazing at Hannibal. "Will you turn him?"
Hannibal stilled at that, and he lapsed into silence for a moment. Abigail watched patiently, ignoring the body beneath her and focusing on Lecter.
"I'm not sure," he said slowly, gazing at the ground.
"You've turned me," she said. "I think Will Graham has earned it."
"You already have Death's blood in you," reasoned Hannibal. "For me to immortalize a human…" He paused, mulling over the thought, and shook his head. "It hasn't been done since Equinox's Legacy."
"She succeeded, didn't she?"
Hannibal reluctantly nodded. "Someone like Will…" He shook his head and returned his focus to the body. "Let's talk about it another time," he said. "Right now, we need to focus on the message."
Abigail hummed, lifting the face up again and gazing at it. "I want to meet Will Graham," she said. "Get to know him better instead of hear about him through stories."
Hannibal smiled. "He's still on your case," he said. "Let me work things out first."
Abigail nodded, exchanged glances with Hannibal, and they both returned to work.
Will sat in the BAU, staring at the last two pictures of the suspected girls. He squinted at the one on the right, examining her features. Blue eyes stared through the ink, echoing with cold and dread. Will's brows furrowed, noting her presence, and began replaying the murders in his head.
No parents…
He flipped through her file.
No home…
His finger slid down pages.
A lost sense of identity…
He jumped at the knock on the door, and he looked over, spotting Hannibal. A warmth spread in his chest despite the scare.
"Hannibal," he greeted, watching him as he sat down in the chair beside him.
"Good evening," he said, adjusting himself in his seat and sending a warm smile his way. Will returned the gesture, carefully breathing in to catch that wonderful scent of rich cologne and Death.
"What are you doing?" asked Lecter, leaning over to examine the two photos. His eyes lingered on the one on the right: Abigail Hobbs.
"I know who the killer is," said Will, sliding the file closer to Hannibal. "Abigail Hobbs."
Hannibal nodded, staring at her image, and glanced carefully over at Graham. He stared at Lecter evenly.
"Fauna Thames," breathed Will, narrowing his eyes. "For some reason, Dr. Lecter, your patient quite chillingly looks like Abigail Hobbs."
He leaned closer, and Hannibal remained stoic, keeping his face unreadable.
"Why would a psychiatrist be keeping a killer under his roof?" His brows furrowed. "Why wouldn't he say anything?"
Hannibal allowed a smirk, and he stared Will dead in the eyes. "I keep quiet about you, do I not?" he replied.
Will's jaw clenched, taken aback, and he glared at Hannibal. He only smiled, standing and pushing Abigail's file aside.
"Let's go to my office," said Hannibal, straightening his jacket and gazing down at Will. "It's about time I show you something."
Will's brows furrowed, but he stood, glancing around the room before reluctantly following Hannibal. The door shut behind them, and they drove back to Maryland.
Hannibal gazed over his shoulder at Will, and they entered the warmth of his house. A leering sense of doom settled on Will's shoulders, and he lingered at the doorway, staring carefully at Hannibal.
"Wait here," he said. He disappeared into a hallway for a moment, and Will took off his coat, hanging it on the coat rack. As he waited, he gazed at the wallpaper of the house and the lines of the wooden floor. Seconds later, Hannibal reappeared.
"Come to the kitchen with me," said Hannibal, and Will lingered for a moment before obeying. He sat down at the counter and watched Hannibal's every move, swallowing as he stood across from him, bending over to rest his elbows on the marble surface.
"I want to ask you this," said Hannibal, "as a friend." He stared Will in the eye, his unwavering gaze making him uneasy. "I want you to promise that you won't utter a word of what is said or what happens tonight. Can you promise me?"
Will swallowed, not knowing what to say. Hannibal leaned closer, demeanour dark and bleeding with Death's scent.
"Promise me, Will."
Will hesitantly nodded, heart thrumming. "I promise."
Hannibal paused for a moment, and he rose, turned his head to the side and nodded at the shadows of the hallway. Will glanced in the same direction, brows furrowed, and blinked rapidly when a figure emerged.
Will stood up in his seat, palms on the marble. Abigail gazed at him steadily, fear and excitement in her eyes.
"Hello, Will Graham," she said softly, smiling and folding her hands in her lap. She stood next to Hannibal, looking like his daughter. Will's brows furrowed at the sight, that feeling of an answer without words echoing in the back of his head. He tried to shake it off, but it still lingered.
"Hello," he forced himself to reply, stuffing his hands in his pockets to look less intimidating. "I'm guessing you're—"
"Abigail Hobbs," she said, smiling. "I'm sorry for the alias earlier." She glanced up at Hannibal. "I didn't know if I could trust you or not."
Will narrowed his eyes. "How do you know if I can be trusted now?"
"Az—" Hannibal glanced down at Abigail. "Hannibal said he trusted you."
Will glanced between the two, ignoring the slip-up. He slowly sat down, and Hannibal motioned for Abigail to sit, too. The gravity in the air pressed down on their shoulders, and Will leaned forward on his elbows, eyes soft.
"Abigail," said Will gently, "why do you kill people?"
She glanced at Hannibal, who stood by her shoulder, and received a dismissive nod. She turned back and stared at Will. "I like to be unique," she said, sitting up straight and crossing her arms on the table. Her blue eyes flashed. "I kill girls like me because only I should live."
"Don't you think that's unfair?" Will examined her features, brows furrowed.
Abigail's eyes went half-lidded, and a darker demeanor came over her, echoing with emptiness—just like at the crime scene. "My parents abandoned me," she said, voice cutting and laced with poison. "They didn't love me. Dumped me at the nearest foster home once they saw that I was different than them." She glanced up at Hannibal when she said that, looking back over at Will to continue.
"Once I came to my senses, I escaped for the first time. Searched for my family in every street, house, store, alleyway—you name it." A flicker of rage came through her. "And when I actually got around to finding them, I found out they were dead. Car accident."
She flicked some hair out of her face, giving a glimpse of her absent ear. Will took notice but didn't point it out, focusing on Abigail.
"I vowed that day," continued Hobbs, "that I'd kill any girl who looks like me. So that I'd be the only one to haunt my parents."
"You want to mock them," muttered Will.
Abigail stared at him and nodded. "I want them to see what they've created."
Will glanced up at Hannibal, and he only motioned his head towards Abigail again. He returned his focus to the girl.
"Your ear," he softly prodded. "What happened to it?"
Abigail lifted a hand to hover over the absence, the negative aura pulsing at the question. "Someone who I thought was family," she answered, jaw tightening. "He cut it off for the hell of it."
Hannibal laid a hand on her shoulder in comfort, and he finally sat down next to her. He leaned forward, gazing pointedly at Graham.
"Will," he said, catching his attention. "No word of this to Jack."
Will swallowed. "What am I supposed to tell him then?" he breathed. "He'll find out sooner or later that she's the killer."
Something glinted in Hannibal's eyes, and Will narrowed his eyes at it.
"What?" he whispered. "What are you thinking?"
Hannibal only smiled, patting Abigail's back in reassurance. "Thank you, Will," he said, "for coming tonight."
Will's brows furrowed as he and Abigail stood.
"It was nice meeting you, Will," said Abigail, smiling. Will blinked and nodded, sending her a weary smile.
"You too."
She left, leaving Hannibal and Will in the kitchen. Will stood, watching him through cautious eyes.
"I can't keep this a secret," said Will, pointing at the hallway that Abigail disappeared down. "Jack will be—"
Hannibal stepped around the counter, demeanor riddled with authority.
"You've hidden under the FBI for years," said Hannibal. "Turned their eyes to a different killer for your murders." He loomed over Will, and Graham thickly swallowed, stepping back. "I believe you can do the same for Abigail."
He averted his eyes, and Hannibal slid a hand up Will's jaw, tilting his head up to look at him.
"You promised," he breathed.
Will licked his lips, butterflies coiling in his stomach and heart thudding in his throat. He nodded, breaths shallow at their close proximity. Hannibal pulled away, and he sighed, rubbing his jaw where Hannibal's hand was.
"I'll come up with something," said Will, and Hannibal gave a smirk.
"Thank you, Will." He headed back around the counter—calmer this time—and lingered by the stove.
"I have some leftovers from today if you'd like a bite to eat," said Hannibal. "Oh. And don't forget the dessert."
He smiled, and Will couldn't help but be both flattered and unnerved.
Thank you so much for reading, and have a great day!
-Kassian