There was a black leather purse two tables across the food court. The Niffler watched it hungrily, rubbing its paws together, sniffing at it with its yellow beak. It began to scratch at the table, wiggling its tiny stubby tail.
The General skewered a piece of quiche with a fork and said- "No," before placing the quiche in his mouth and chewing calmly.
The Niffler ceased scratching and shot a disgruntled look at the General, who was reading a flimsy, tattered brown book with the words PSYCHOLOGICAL ADVANCEMENTS OF THE 2OTH CENTURY across the front.
The Niffler returned its gaze at the purse where a dark-skinned woman with curly black hair was eating a dish of poutine and looking at her phone. It began to scratch again, more aggressively.
"Goldblüd, I said no," Hannibal said, a bit more coldly. He turned the page of his book. "What did I tell you about manners at the dinner table?"
Goldblüd scowled at him as if to say- 'It's only lunch time, silly human.' but the General raised his eyebrows, still focusing on his book, and responded- "Don't give me that look. I taught you better than that,"
The Niffler looked at the purse again, sniffing. It also glanced at several people who passed by the table and gave it peculiar looks. Nifflers were not common animals but they were just average-looking enough in Charactia that people didn't question them. In fact, Hannibal hasn't even known it was called a "Niffler" until the Commander has told him.
And the people in the Green Mist Shopping Center recognized the Niffler's owner, and were quite used to avoiding him.
The small town of Green Mist, Colorado, was on barely any maps and existed just underneath the mountain where the Overlook Hotel was. The tiny town was well-aware of the wanted criminals who lived about an hour away from them and they lived with that. The town was in constant fear of the General and the monsters. They had been for almost four years.
The last time they had attempted to report the monsters' whereabouts was about two years ago. When sounds of a distress call came from an old woman's house, the mayor mysteriously disappeared after meeting privately with the General and a teenager covered in blood somehow lit the house on fire without any kind of match, lighter, or kindling. The old woman had also disappeared.
The Green Mist Shopping Center was free-reign for the General and his people. It was large enough for strangers that he could sneak around without really being recognized but full enough of Green Mist civilians who recognized him and kept up the fear he had the town in, preventing him from being caught.
That being said, there were about four empty tables surrounding the General and people were praying that he hadn't made any personal additions to the quiche he had ordered from Starbucks.
Goldblüd arched his back and chittered at the purse once more. He licked his beak and then, he took off like a shot across the table towards the purse- a bid for the shiny artifacts he could sense in the purse...an attempt that didn't last long.
With lightning reflexes, Lecter grasped the Niffler's small tail firmly with his thumb and index finger, without once ever looking away from his book. The Niffler scratched and struggled for freedom but Hannibal never once let go.
"I told you no,"
He set the book down and picked up Goldblüd by the tail, who was still scratching and snuffling at him. With his free hand, the General unzipped a black duffle bag that was sitting next to him on the table bench and dropped the Niffler inside. Goldblüd hissed up at him from inside the bag and the General hissed back at him as he zipped the bag closed.
Hannibal composed himself, straightening the collar on his blue jumpsuit, and picked up his book again. He now chose to sip at the green straw of an ice Vanilla Bean Frappuccino, topped with whipped cream, also purchased from Starbucks.
He pulled a mechanical blue pen from behind one of his sticky-out ears and flipped to the very back of the book. The back of the back page and cover were covered in pen doodles. He was rapidly running out of room but he had a top right corner that was still bare.
The General drew people. More specifically, he drew people that didn't know he was drawing them. It was easier to get a more diverse range of movements and faces from the subject if they didn't realize that they were the subject.
The Lieutenant compared this form of sketching as "stalking" but the General preferred to call it "stalking with purpose".
He also preferred to draw humans. He found them fascinating.
He watched the woman who owned the black leather purse with watchful, unblinking eyes. In one easy move, he drew the curves of her side-profile. He moved a line down to form her neck as she sat hunched over her phone and began to shade the thick dreadlocks upon her head like a dark blue cloud.
She scrolled once on her phone and the General calmly clicked his pen off and tucked it behind his ear again. Just as he predicted, she rose to her feet and tucked her phone into her purse. Swinging it over her shoulder, she straightened up and she looked directly at the General.
Hannibal winked and the woman's eyes widened as she broke into a fast walk away from him.
Shovelling the last of his quiche into his mouth, the General closed up his book and unzipped his duffle-bag again to reveal Goldblüd, fast asleep wrapped around a large quarter. Hannibal scratched him behind the ears while nestling the book inside and zipped it back up.
He crossed the duffle-bag over his shoulder and picked up his Frappuccino, making his way through the food court and to the escalators.
He had to meet with the Advisor at the front of the mall in about ten minutes but frankly, he didn't want to meet up with the Advisor at all. And frankly, the Advisor wasn't the one in charge.
He leaned on the ascending escalator side, drinking his Frappuccino, and watching the stores on the next level up come into view. He stepped off the moving staircase and began to make his way down the corridor.
Hannibal Lecter could part crowds like the Red Sea when he walked. He had this sort of gravitas about him, an air that meant he was the alpha any time he entered a room. Maybe it was the way he could move his hips with almost feminine confidence. Or maybe it was the way he chose to ignore everyone who stared as if he simply didn't give a care in the world. Maybe it was because people thought he would snap any second and bite them on the shoulder.
Whatever the reason, the way he walked and asserted his dominance, Hannibal was able to walk around like he owned the world. After all, he wanted to own the world, so why not practice now?
His eyes drifted to the right at a passing dress shop and he instantly froze before the window where there were about four white mannequins. The General stirred his drink and stared at the middle mannequin, which was wearing a long sleeveless and strapless red dress with black lacy flowers at the bottom.
He looked the dress up and down. He smirked to himself and entered the store. The Advisor was not going to like what he was about to do. And that was exactly what Hannibal wanted.
When the front doors of the mall slid open, the General swaggered out with not only his duffle-bag and ice cream drink, but four more large bags with two draped over each arm and a pair of new aviator sunglasses on his face.
The Advisor was leaning against support beams of the concrete awning and his jaw dropped open when he watched the General arrive.
"What're you looking at?" Hannibal snapped.
Children would cry if they as so much as saw the Advisor for a mere second. He was almost the same size as Jason but just a bit scarier. He had the same wide shoulders, tough hands, and thick arms but he had a mass of black hair on his head. He wore a dirty brown apron, a white collar shirt rolled up at the elbows, and a black tie with matching black pants and shoes. But on his face he wore a brown mask, crudely stitched together with space for his mouth and eyes. However, he also wore a pair of thick brown glasses which to many of the monsters believed took away from the horrifying mask. The children who entered the mall past him would disagree.
"Where the hell have you been?" Leatherface demanded as the General began to saunter into the bright and sunny parking lot.
"I was in the mall,"
"Well, I figured THAT out," The Advisor began to jog alongside him. "You told me you wanted lunch. Fifteen minutes tops! And I've been out here for over half an hour!"
The General shrugged. "That's only another fifteen minutes. I thought you were good with numbers,"
"And I thought you were supposed to be a genius. Two fifteen minutes make a half hour and that's way longer than one set of fifteen minutes."
"I am a genius, Advisor. I calculated that the crew will be back from New York later than we scheduled due to the detour that they'll have to take in the sewer system even if the Lieutenant has meticulously laid out. And one of them is bound to stay behind for some stupid reason, probably the Chief. And there's a strong chance one of them could get hurt doing something stupid. And the Captain doesn't have a license meaning that he may get pulled over once or twice,"
"Why would he get pulled over?"
"For speeding, of course,"
"Why would he be speeding?"
"The Commander probably did something stupid that alerted the cops and he had to speed to get to their rendezvous point by the Central Park Zoo and then get out of the city, of course,"
"You're positive about all of this,"
"No. But like you said," He flashed a smirk, "I am a genius."
The Advisor rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah. And what do you think the Commander did that alerted the cops?"
"Oh, probably shot himself or something,"
The two reached the back of the parking lot and stood beside an older-looking white van with a license plate that had a picture of a white poodle. In the driver's seat sat the Scout, who had a hand lying lazily out of the window while patting the side to the radio.
The Scout's expressions were impossible to tell because he was wearing a white mask that looked very similar to Captain James T Kirk's face, complete with a tuft of fake brown hair. But the way he suddenly turned to face the General spoke volumes about what his expression probably was.
"Golly, General, that's- that's a lot of stuff!"
"Yes, well, it's like I always say- 'Treat Yourself',"
The Advisor crossed his arms. "And exactly how did you pay for all of that?
"Do you need to know?"
"I'm the Advisor,"
"Yeah, I only gave you that title because we ran out of military ranks and you're a math geek. Open that up, would ya?"
The General gestured to the van's side door and rolling his eyes, the Advisor slid it open. This revealed a dirty back that was hollowed out with racks and benches on each side, separated from the front cabin. The General began to unload his bags into the back. He hung up a third bag, which was clearly holding a dress, but held onto the fourth.
"This one's got breakable things in it," he said. He propped his aviator sunglasses onto his balding head and looked over at a red car two parking spaces down where a woman was fastening a baby into a car seat. "Oi!"
The woman turned around, searching for who had called and froze when she locked eye contact with Hannibal, who smiled and waved.
"Yes, miss, sorry, but you need to turn the car-seat the other way!" he called.
The woman's enormous eyes turned to Leatherface who shrugged and added- "Yeah, lady, that's so not cool. Your kid could totally die."
The woman looked at the Scout, who moved his arm into the van and rolled up the window. Then, she nodded shakily and began to fuss with car-seat with trembling hands, moving it the other way.
The General sighed, lowered his sunglasses, and strode around the Advisor to the passenger's seat.
"I hate children," he muttered and sipped at his drink.
The portal line, where the Torrancemobile would be able to appear once outside of the New York area, was part-way up the mountain highway that led to the Overlook Hotel. It was just a fifteen past a small convenience store and gas station that served as a halfway point between Green Mist and The Overlook.
The General, the Advisor, and the Scout had parked the white van on the side of the road, awaiting the arrival of the yellow bug. The Lieutenant and his crew were, as the General had predicted, late. They sat in silence in the front of the van with the General in the passengers seat, the Scout at the wheel, and the Advisor at the bench behind them. The Scout tapped at the wheel.
"Do you...mind if I turn on some tunes?"
"That might be nice," the General said, rummaging through the shopping bag on his lap. "Seeing as we'll probably be here for a few minutes more."
"How late do you think they'll be?" the Advisor said as Michael clicked on the radio. He turned a dial up a bit and the song 'That'll Be The Day' came into earshot.
"Like I said, a few minutes more- oh!" Hannibal's head shot up from the bag. "Oh- this song's classy- turn it up-"
"No- please- don't-" the Advisor begged but of course, the Scout cranked the volume and the quick cymbal riffs blasted through the van.
"Oh yeah, that's NICE. Excellent call, General!" Michael yeah and bobbed his head over the now loud but bubbling voice of Buddy Holly.
The Advisor buried his face in his hands. Hannibal cleaned off his aviator sunglasses with the collar of his jumpsuit, not for any other particular reason than wanting to look cool.
"Oh relax, Advisor, at least the Lieutenant knows when to have a good time,"
"Yeah, Advisor," Michael tacked on.
"You still never told me how you paid for that," Leatherface barked, jabbing a finger at the wall that separated them from the back.
"I didn't tell you because I didn't pay for any of it,"
"Yeah, Advisor, he didn't pay for any-"
"Shut up, Michael,"
"Sorry, sir,"
They didn't say anything else to each other until Hannibal straightened up in his chair, squinting at the rear-view mirror. He slid his glasses onto his head and pointed the mirror down so he could have a better look. He turned in his chair.
"Advisor- move for a second- slide over there-"
The Advisor did as he was told and Hannibal peered through the small window on the divider wall that allowed him to see through the back of the van and through the back-door windows.
He watched as the yellow bug drove around the corner towards them.
Hannibal instantly removed his seatbelt. "They're here,"
He opened the van door and jumped out, running onto the road and waving his arms. The bug slowed to a stop and the exchange was quick but just about how he predicted.
Samara and Krueger jumped out of the car and into the back seat of the van, squeezing in with the Advisor, both arguing. Jason was bleeding dark red throughout the back of the bug's seat and Jack revealed that they hadn't managed to get all of the ice cream.
Hannibal waved him through and ordered him to go ahead first so that Jason could get proper treatment. He watched the license plate-less car speed away as he got back into the van's passengers seat. Then, the van took off after the bug.
Krueger and Samara were still arguing.
"If you had given me five more minutes, we could've kept a hostage-"
"That wasn't the plan! Were you trying to get yourself killed?"
"You guys wanna tell us what the hell happened?" the Advisor snapped, pinned against the wall.
"Oh, simple," Krueger said. "The Chief here almost got arrested and jeopardized the entire plan!"
"You moron, the Commander's the one who got shot! And you're lucky I stuck around because I saw the All-Knower!"
Hannibal looked at her. "Wait- what? You saw Alice?"
"Yes! And we would have her to if it weren't for Dr Brenner's prized puppy," Samara snarled.
Hannibal suddenly reached out and grabbed the Scout's arm. The van screeched to a sudden halt and Leatherface whacked his head on the General's chair.
"What did you just say?!"
"That man- Snake! He's the guy who attacked me and the Commander at Charactia Center," Krueger said. "He showed up inside the store to try and stop us."
"He is the reason the Plan is still in force," Hannibal whispered, his eyes wide, staring at his lap. His hand was still on Michael's arm. "How did he know you were there?"
"He probably recognized the Captain," the Lieutenant suggested. "He was probably trying to free the hostages single-handedly. I wouldn't put it past him. He could've done it too."
"You had us surrounding him!" Samara said shrilly.
Krueger held up a hand. "I misjudged his powers. It was an error on my part. He's more powerful than I remembered. I thought we could outnumber him."
Snapping his fingers at the Chief, Hannibal asked- "You said that you could've captured Alice,"
"Yeah?"
"And that you couldn't because of Snape,"
"The Prize. Yeah. I tried to kill him. I think I broke his hand but I swear to God, Lieutenant, how you EVER misjudged his power is a mystery to me,"
"You retreated,"
"You should've run to us in the first place!" Krueger cried. "That was the plan!"
"Hold on a moment, Lieutenant. You said he attacked you in Charactia Center," the General said. "When you saw Alice for the first time. When we fought Hunt. Which can only mean-"
"Alice might be working with the IMF and Snape," Michael breathed.
"Exactly," Hannibal took his hand off of the Scout and turned the key in the ignition, starting the van. The van started off again. He folded his fingers. "So. Ethan Hunt has taken a liking to the All-Knower And Snape's caught in between it all."
"That complicates things for us," Krueger said. "Because Snape knows us and if he goes to the IMF-"
"The IMF has the All-Knower. It works in our favour,"
"How?"
"Because," Hannibal smirked. "she apparently knows all about us."
He shot a sly smile around the van and slowly, one by one, they began to smile and nod as they realized what he meant.
Lecter's mind was already perfecting a fool-proof plan and he exhaled happily as he began to rummage through the shopping bag in his lap.
"I should probably mention that I bought you something, Advisor,"
Leatherface stuck his nose in the air. "I'm not interest-"
"It's a mug with the Pi decimal number on it,"
"Give it to me,"
Hannibal lazily passed back a white coffee mug with stripes but a careful examination would show that the thin stripes were actually numbers in the Pi number decimal- which, of course, was impossible to complete. But it was a nice design and the Advisor looked at it with unapologetic happiness.
Then, his eyes narrowed and he coughed out a rough-
"Thank you,"
"What else did you get?" Krueger asked, craning his neck as if to look inside the shopping bag in Lecter's lap.
"There's more in the back,"
"And...how did you pay for it?"
Leatherface looked at the ceiling raising a hand and shaking his head in annoyance. Still smirking, Hannibal winked at Krueger and replied-
"I didn't,"
"So you robbed them?"
"Oh no. They gave it all to me for free. Only after I told them how they'd taste with various Italian spices, of course,"
He smiled out the window at the beautiful memory of the widening cashiers' eyes as they broke into a sudden nervous sweat. Seeing people react that way to him gave him such a burst of serotonin. It reminded him just how powerful he was.
The van turned another corner on the mountain and there sat the Overlook Hotel, nestled in the mountain like a demented gingerbread house with its dark brown shingles and pointed rooftops sprinkled with white snow powder. The parking lot was barren except for the yellow bug, which was parked next to the door.
The white van pulled into the parking lot and parked smoothly into a space in the middle row. They all climbed out and stood in the cold mountain air. Hannibal lowered his sunglasses onto his face and placed the bag on the crevice of his left arm, making his way around the van to collect the rest of his things.
"Um- um- sir-" Myers scrambled beside him as Hannibal slid the back door open and draped the garment bag with the red dress also over his left arm. "Sir- how about I take some of that-"
"Nonsense, I'm fine," Hannibal said. He picked up the next bag, hung it from his elbow and then held the final back. "But you can close the door if you want. Oh, and grab my duffle bag. It's not heavy, I just have my hands full."
"Oh, of course and- um- you forgot your drink,"
He handed the General the half-finished Frappuccino.
"What would I do without you, Scout?" Hannibal sighed but he didn't look at him. The group made their way across the parking lot towards the entrance of the Hotel.
Krueger jogged up besides Hannibal. "You know, you stealing stuff from the mall- I mean, it's fun but...that's all gonna catch up and bite you in the ass at some point,"
"The people of that town are too terrified that I'm going to bite them in the ass," he said. "They won't condemn me."
"People are tough, General, you should know that,"
"Of course I know that. But those people are cowards,"
"If you want to keep them in fear, maybe you should pay for something so that it keeps you unpredictable," Krueger suggested.
"Actually, that's a pretty good idea. It's a shame we don't, you know, have any legitimate money," Hannibal groaned.
Krueger shrugged. "We could always rob a bank,"
Smirking at him, Hannibal sipped at his drink. "Let's add that to the side list, shall we?"
They approached the entrance doors and once the Lieutenant spoke his name into the door intercom, they slowly opened up. Except this time, the Grady Twins were not standing there and the group was able to enter the large gold and red lobby without delay. However, something made them stop dead in their tracks
At the end of the lobby, near the entrance to the great Colorado Room, the Commander was lying against one of the red pillars surrounded by Jack and Morgana Pendragon. There was dark red, almost black blood staining the yellow reflective floor around them and Morgana was making odd hand movements around Jason's knee.
Hannibal watched her, his mouth hanging open as the blood pooling near them was slowly retracting back into the Commander's leg and her long fluid words in a strange tongue all strung together like some foreign poem.
Her hands and fingers danced through the air and suddenly, the Commander gasped out with a loud- "Wow," He then began to flex his knee and got to his feet. And just like that, he began to skip around Morgana, who was still kneeling.
"This is great! This is so great! Thank you so much!"
"Don't mention it,"
"But-"
"Ever,"
Morgana got to her own feet, Hannibal still watching her dumbfounded, and she smoothed her dress out, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder. She turned on her heel and strode into the Colorado Room. Jack and Jason shrugged at each other and Jack ran to the entrance door, most likely to retrieve the ice cream in the car. Jason, however, approached the General, still skipping like he was five.
"Hey, General, did you see that? Wasn't that something? Gosh, bringing her to life was such a good idea I- General?"
The General wasn't looking at the Commander. He wasn't sure he was looking at anything, actually. He was more or less still looking at the image of Morgana healing Jason's leg even though it was over now. He wasn't sure why he was still thinking about it. Usually, that sort of thing didn't stick with him. But now-
"Hey,"
Krueger elbowed him and Hannibal gasped as he suddenly snapped back to reality. He looked up at the Commander and nodded, shaking slightly. Then, his eyes drifted back to the Colorado Room entrance.
"Yeah, yeah, fantastic,"
He began to stride towards it, and the rest of them started following him again, surrounding him to hear what he would say next.
"Lieutenant, come with me. The rest of you, I want you down in the room in about fifteen minutes, you got it? I'll have Wendy send out a reminder. Scout? I need you to take that bag up to Room 91,"
"Sir, I'd love to but- um- I don't have the codes to, um, get into your room-" Michael was panting as he tried to keep up Hannibal.
"Very well," Lecter groaned. He stopped, cleared his throat, and then- "WENDY!"
The group now had one more member who suddenly appeared in less than an instant. It was a woman, somewhere in her late thirties, with large dark eyes that seemed to pop from her face, long wiry black hair that clung to her face, and two large front teeth. She was wearing a green plaid shirt over a beige turtleneck, which was all underneath a brown corduroy dress. She also had on baggy pants that were tucked into clunky winter boots.
"Can I help you?" the woman asked in a monotone.
"Yes, I need you to take these all of this up to my room." Hannibal began to unload the garment bag and two of his shopping bags into the woman's arms. She looked frail enough already but the weight didn't seem to bother her.
Gesturing to the duffle bag in Michael's arms, he added- "And take the bag too. Goldblüd's in there so don't let him out or he'll wreak havoc, you got that? Use code B-1329-0 for my room."
He raised his sunglasses onto his forehead and winked, pointing at the number printed black on the left side of his jumpsuit chest.
Wendy rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know what the code looks like." She stepped forward and retrieved the duffle bag from Michael, swinging it over her shoulder. "You know, I think you have a spending problem."
"News flash, Wendy, I don't give a damn what you think," Lecter snapped. He waved with a smirk. "Goodbye."
She rolled her buggy eyes once more and just like that, she was gone. Vanished in midair. Hannibal slurped back the last of his Frappuccino and patted the shopping bag left on his arm.
"Come with me, Lieutenant,"
Hannibal and Krueger passed through the doors into the cavernous Colorado Room with its tall windows, large fireplace, leathery sofas, and wooden tables. From atop the balcony, they could see Morgana, with her back to them, reading intently at one of the far tables where Jack's typewriter lay abandoned (which was unusual to see).
They began to descend the great staircases into the Colorado Room and Hannibal grinned broadly as he broke into a quick jog across the room to where Morgana sat.
"Good morning, my lady,"
Morgana turned her head a bit to see him and then looked away, rolling her bright green eyes. "Good morning, General,"
He seated himself in a wooden chair besides her and placed his large shopping bag on the floor.
"I have a present for you,"
"Oh joy,"
After rummaging around in the large bag, Lecter revealed a black wide-brimmed hat and smiled. Morgana, however, stared at the hat with disgust.
"What is that?"
"It's a hat,"
"I'm well-aware that it's a hat but why would I need it?"
"Well, as wonderfully intricate as that dress is, you have been wearing it for thousands of years and I'm doesn't exactly hold up by today's standards. So when you are eventually required to leave the Hotel, you will need something a bit more modern," Hannibal explained.
The Lieutenant appeared between them and looked at the hat, then at Morgana.
"He's right, you know,"
Morgana scoffed and returned her gaze back to the thick book she was reading. Krueger scoffed as well.
"Well, he is. As much as you might hate to think it, our jobs all require us to blend in because, you know, the cops are after us," He shot a look at Hannibal who scowled at him.
"You never wear a disguise in Green Mist either, genius," he snapped.
"Yeah, it's just that I want what's best for the Plan and sometimes you tend to get-"
"Get what? Careless?"
Krueger bit his bottom lip as Hannibal's glare intensified, and the Lieutenant decided that he didn't trust himself to finish the sentence. He swallowed and turned his attention to Morgana.
"So what're you reading?"
"None of your business,"
Rolling his eyes, Krueger leaned over the bag on the floor. "What, uh, what else did you get in there?"
"If you're wondering if I bought you anything-"
"Psh, what? No, I was just...curious, that's all,"
Hannibal raised his eyebrows and began to rummage through the bag again. Then, a wide smirk crossed his face. Slowly, he pulled out a large orange binder and Krueger gasped, covering his mouth with his hands.
"Is that-"
"Waterproof, interior pockets," Hannibal began to move the binder around. He put his nose to it. "And it still has a new smell-"
"Gimme, gimme, come on-" Krueger grasped the binder and smelled it, grinning. "Oh hell yeah, that's the good stuff and-" He suddenly made a highly unflattering squeal as the binder fell open revealing that it came with multicoloured divider pages. "General- oh my- Thank you- I've been working on new Plan statistics and this is-"
"Ayyyyyyy!"
"Ayyyyyyy!" Hannibal replied, winking.
Krueger was biting his lip and it looked as though he might cry. He ran a burnt hand over the front of the binder and began to examine it.
"Morgana- Morgana- check this out- The General and I are Binder Buddies!"
"I don't care," Morgana grumbled.
Lecter set the black hat on the table and pushed it towards her and winked, even though she didn't see it, and said- "For your consideration," Then, he rose to his feet. "Lieutenant, if you would follow me to my office, I have to add some new touches to the Plan into this lovely thing."
"Wait," Krueger said quietly. "Does this mean we're going to...laminate?"
Hannibal grinned.
The General had a laminator in his room. Which was on the floor directly above his office. No one ever went inside without permission and it was such an unusual room that nobody exactly was eager to go inside. He kept all of his belongings well-hidden, and his private life was maintained...well...privately. No one was to enter his room unless he commanded it and sometimes, he would disappear for long periods of time inside to do plotting and self-indulgent activities. But it was such a complicated and peculiar room that to describe it right now would take too much time and ruin the surprise for what was inside.
So for now, all you will know about Hannibal Lecter's room is that he had a laminator inside of it. And he and Krueger used it constantly.
After about ten minutes of laminating long pages of notes, and fawning over how smooth they could make them before intricately measuring and cutting the sides so each page was bordered perfectly, the General and the Lieutenant added the new plans to their binders and returned to the Colorado room.
Neither of them discussed the plan. To do so before a meeting would just be bad form.
Morgana was still reading inside the Colorado Room when the two had entered it, except now Jack was sitting at his typewriter again.
The General ordered the Lieutenant and the Captain to connect the long table at the end of the room table in the center of the room so they could have one long meeting table.
While two men moved the tables with shocking ease, Morgana took refuge on a comfy armchair and Hannibal decided to play a smooth waltz on the grand piano next to the staircase.
Piano was one of his self-indulgent activities as he had taught himself and was incredibly good at it. The music echoed through the Colorado Room and gave it a nice homey feel to it, so much so that even Morgana had put her book down for a moment to listen in.
The General, crossing his hands over each other gracefully as they danced up and down the keyboard, noticed her watching him and decided that perhaps he should play something more complicated and fast. So he sped the waltz up to a speed it probably shouldn't have been and smiled broadly at Morgana as he did so.
She looked back at her book and the waltz slowed significantly.
Once the tables, chairs, and benches had been set up, the Lieutenant approached Hannibal at the piano and asked-
"You want the white board?"
"Of course," Hannibal said, now playing a jazz piece that interchanged between slow and suddenly fast.
And so Krueger left the room down a hallway at the very back and returned with the large whiteboard, which he rolled at the end of the tables.
Hannibal then proceeded to summon The Wendy. She blinked into a existence at the end of the piano and he commanded her to give an announcement throughout the hotel that there would be a "Legion-wide meeting" in the Colorado Room. He also commanded her to broadcast her message to the Tracker, who would still be in New York City.
She then disappeared with her order, and threw her voice throughout the hotel, repeating his words.
"Legion?" Krueger asked, once the announcement was over and Wendy's voice had stopped spookily bouncing around the room. We haven't called ourselves a 'legion' since-"
"I figured it would get everyone's attention," Hannibal cracked his fingers and began to play Grieg's 'Hall of the Mountain King' just as the villains began to descend the grand staircase of the Colorado Room.
Almost every member of the monsters had arrived into the Colorado Room. They all had flooded in, chatting excitedly or looking as thought they'd rather be anywhere else, in about four minutes but Lecter refused to start until Pennywise had come.
The villains all sat at the tables, and Morgana soon joined them, sitting at the end near the white board across from Jack- who was typing again. Hannibal had just begun to play a graceful version of Marc Cohn's "Walking in Memphis" but just as he finished the first verse, the Lieutenant persuaded him to start the meeting.
Almost simultaneously, the orange-haired and white-frilled Pennywise appeared at the top of the stairs with a pair of headphones in and his hand in a bag of Cheetos.
And with that, all eighteen horror villains were seated at the long table with their eyes on Hannibal who stood before them with his binder in hand. He smirked around at all of them.
"Well, I know it's only been two days since our last full meeting but I must say, it always feels good to see you all in one room," he said, his fingers drumming on his binder. "Before we begin, I just wanted to say that our retrieval for more cream has paid off and we should be able to initiate another resurrection very soon."
Michael Myers clapped appreciatively. He was the only one who did so. Krueger, who was sitting next to Morgana, rolled his eyes and stuck his feet up on the table.
"Yes, thank you, Scout," Hannibal said, nodding at Myers in acknowledgement. "Now, do we have any questions before we begin?"
Jason raised hand and Hannibal rolled his eyes.
"Why am I not surprised. Yes, Commander?"
"What's the bag full of?"
The group looked past the whiteboard to the far left corner of the room where the shopping bag that had held Morgana's hat sat.
"I went shopping,"
"What did you buy?"
"I don't think that's any of your business,"
"Don't say that," Krueger sighed. "Then they'll start guessing."
"Did you get me anything?" Jason asked.
"Why would I bother getting you anything?" Hannibal scoffed.
"Ooh, did you get one of those 'Kiss the Cook' aprons?" giggled a girl of eleven or ten, who was sitting near Pennywise. The girl had cuts on her face, beady yellow eyes, bushy brown hair, and a nightdress stained with green. Samara snickered behind her hand, as did most of the other monsters.
There was a headache coming.
"Why would I need one of those, Colonel?" Lecter forced his voice to stay calm. Regan shrugged.
"I dunno, you cook and well..." She held back a laugh. "You could use the...um...romantic help."
A few people laughed. The Lieutenant winced and the tips of Hannibal's ears flushed a bright pink.
"That's ridiculous," he snapped. "I don't need any form of 'romantic help'. I've- I've kissed plenty of women, I'll have you know."
"Okay, but like, why haven't we met them?" Samara called.
"Yeah. We've never SEEN you kiss anyone," Regan added.
"Come for think of it, we've never seen you cook! How do we even know you've done that?" Jason pointed.
The table began to laugh again and Hannibal's cheeks were now as pink as his ears. He scowled around at them all and they fell silent.
"Any other questions?"
Nobody raised their hands.
Lecter turned and began to write on the whiteboard with a red marker. "So during this meeting, we're going to discuss just who will be initiating the next resurrection. And we will also be going over the plan that the Secretary and I discussed. I will be assigning Legionnaires to both areas and-"
He glanced over his shoulder and froze writing. Everyone at the table now had their hands in the air, except for Morgana who was still reading, and the Secretary who was on her phone.
"I thought you said you didn't have any other questions?" Hannibal snapped.
"Permission to speak, General," Samara said from the back. "But that was before you mentioned that the Secretary and you made a new plan."
"Yeah, and now we have a helluva lot of questions," Krueger added on. "Is this that plan you excluded me out of two days ago?"
"Wait, you excluded him?" Leatherface cried from next to Samara. "Isn't he your second?"
"Yeah, what makes the Secretary so special?" Samara drawled.
"Ha, you should know the answer to that question," Carrie scoffed.
"No, I don't. Please humour me," Samara snapped back.
"Honestly though, why tell her and not me?" Krueger said with his eyes narrowing. "Is she going to replace me or something?" Hannibal rolled his own eyes.
"Lieutenant, you know very well-"
"We're going to be replaced?!" Jigsaw (a thin man in a suit, red bow-tie, and white painted face with red targets on the cheeks) suddenly jumped to his feet and gripped his slick black hair.
There was an uproar. Every Legionnaire began to demand answers and ask bizarre questions. They began to push each other out of the way so that they could be seen at the table and then, they started yelling loudly at each other. Krueger was snapping at Carrie, who snapped back, and the table was suddenly a loud and obnoxious wall of sound.
Hannibal could feel the headache throbbing in behind his eyes as he raised his hands and tried to speak over the shouting but the wall of sound only increased in volume.
Grinding his teeth together, clenching his fists, Hannibal tensed his body and screamed-
"SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU, SHUT UP! OR SO HELP ME, I'LL BOIL YOU ALIVE ATOP THE BLOODY MOUNTAIN! GOT IT?"
Immediate silence. Everyone froze and stared at him with wide eyes. Krueger gave a slow whistle and those who had been standing returned to their seats. Even Morgana had put down her book in shock.
Hannibal took in a deep breath and turned back to the board. He forced a smile onto his face and looked back over his shoulder.
"May I continue?"
The Legion nodded simultaneously. They all looked a little afraid. It gave the General a nice warm feeling in his stomach.
He continued to draw a red two-column chart on the board with the box on the left reading "The Secretary" and the box on the right reading "Germany".
"Captain, I would like you to copy this down as the first meeting of the properly named Slashers Allied Legion," he said, writing the title at the top of the chart. "I understand it's been a very very long time since we referred to ourselves as Legion but I believe it to be necessary. You see, we were at war when we first called ourselves that and now, with the new developments, I believe we are at war once again." He turned to the Legion, hands folded behind his back and smirking.
A very small Legionnaire with wild orange hair who wearing jean overalls and a striped shirt climbed up onto the table. He raised a small plastic hand.
"Yes, First Analyzer?"
"What would these new developments be?" Chucky asked in a deep voice that did in no way fit his small doll form.
And after a while, Hannibal managed to explain how the man called Snape that they had met quite a while ago was back at large. The General explained his suspicions that Snape was working with the IMF and he then turned the speech over to Samara, who explained everything that had happened at the Party City.
"I never got to properly meet Snape," the First Analyzer said. "What does he look like again?"
"He's the one with that gross mop of hair and the nose that's too big for his face," Pennywise said quietly, still crunching on Cheetos. His eyes were still wide and almost vacant. "He's terrifying."
"And if he's close by the All-Knower, that means we'll have to get rid of him," Samara added. "Which is going to be difficult."
"What if it's a coincidence?" Krueger suggested. "What if Snape isn't working with the IMF and he just happens to be stalking us just as they are?"
"Are you implying that I'm wrong?" Hannibal asked calmly, but there was testiness in his voice. Krueger glanced around and twiddled his thumbs. In a small voice he said-
"Well...maybe..."
"Because if I am wrong and Snape isn't working with Alice, why would he rescue her from the Commander and you?"
"Because he's a good person?" Jason asked.
Hannibal scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Oh please. There are no good people, Commander. There are only people that do things deemed 'good' in the eyes of their superiors," he said. "People are inherently bad. They like to pretend that they aren't with ridiculous little experiments where babies share food with one another when in reality, those babies have already been impressed upon by superiors that food is to be shared. We are taught what is "good" and what is "bad", and each definition varies. And people find us fascinating because we, the "bad guys", are the very things they are forbidden from. But they are only forbidden from it by other people when inherently, if a child is never told that lying is wrong, they will only tell lies and they won't think anything of it."
There was a very long and very awkward silence.
"Yeah, that's cool and everything but you didn't answer his, um, question about why Snape helped Alice," Krueger spoke up.
"I don't know, man, I'm spitballing here," Hannibal groaned. "I haven't seen enough of Snape with Alice to make a proper psychological profile but if he's rescued her twice now, that speaks something about him. But my current hypothesis, if you would call it that, is that wherever he comes from, he either failed to rescue or continuously rescued younglings in particular areas of peril. So, based on how he communicates with Alice, he either feels as though he is responsible to save younger people to appease his own inner demons or simply because he believes that he is the right thing to do. Now, based on the connection he had with me, I believe that he believes it's the right thing to do but also I believe he is unable to stop himself from rescuing others, as it has been drilled so far into his mind. Even those he does not wish to help-" He smirked. "- he helps. And I believe he is incredibly insecure about this, judging from how he did not make a grandiose deal about stopping the Chief."
Another long and uncomfortable pause. Hannibal was still smirking and he looked quite proud of himself and his theory. Then, there was a sound of snoring and the Legion looked down the table to see Samara, who was pretending to nod off. She sat upright dramatically and then-
"I'm sorry," she drawled. "I fell asleep because...that was so boring."
The General scowled at her and a few members shrunk. But Samara leaned her cheek on her hand and said-
"And what if you're wrong about all of this?"
"I'm not,"
"And how was any of that supposed to help us?"
"Insecurity is weakness and if we can use it to our advantage," Hannibal hissed.
"Ohhhh," the Chief said. "I see. 'Insecurity is weakness'. You'd know quite a bit about that, wouldn't ya, Lecter."
The silence that occurred this time was lined with fear and Jason clapped his hands over his hockey mask. The General's body went rigid and his jaw clenched. Krueger slowly lowered his fedora over his face. Pennywise put his headphones back in. Carrie's lips twitched and Morgana watched Hannibal with rapt attention.
A wide smirk crossed Lecter's face as he placed his whiteboard marker down. He reached behind the whiteboard and then folded his hands behind his back. He made his way down the table silently, smirking, eyes wide and unblinking. He approached Samara and the two sized each other up.
"Please," she said, scowling. "I'm not afraid of you."
The General stood behind her and put one hand on her shoulder and then, raised his left hand to reveal a small blade, He leaned over her right shoulder and put his head next to hers, showing off the blade. The Chief's eyes were a bit larger.
"Oh but here's the thing, Chief," Hannibal purred. "You are."
"You won't kill me," she whispered. "I was the Colonel. I'm part of the Legion."
"You're right. But that doesn't mean I can't throw you into the snow, give you to the IMF, or leave you entrapped and starving for days at a time," the General said, still smiling. He twiddled the blade between his fingers. "It also doesn't mean that I can't leave you with...some reminders."
He took the tip of the blade and pressed it into Samara's cheek. She was beginning to physically shake.
"You gave up your rank as Colonel to her," Hannibal said. He looked over at Regan, who sunk beneath the table. "And deep down, you resent that decision."
"I'm happier being technology chief," Samara growled. She gasped as the tip of the blade moved downward and drew some dark red blood that clashed with her grey skin.
"Ah, yes. But you miss the power," the General said. "All of you resent each other over the amount of power each Legionnaire has, don't you?"
He spoke now to the whole table.
"You believe you should all be in charge of the Plan. But you aren't. Do you understand that? You aren't. I am. So I suggest you listen to me and you obey what I have to say or so help me-" He drew the blade away from Samara's bleeding cheek and straightened back up. "- I can make your lives more miserable than you can imagine. And I'll never have to lay a hand on you to do it. Do I make myself clear?"
A pause. And then, in one simultaneous voice, the monsters said- "Yes, General,"
Hannibal smiled and cleaned the blade with the collar of his blue jumpsuit before returning to the board. He winked at Morgana, who watched with an expression of both being impressed and disgusted.
"So. The plan. Secretary, if you would care to explain it?"
Carrie blinked to life, tearing her eyes away from Samara, who was still shaking. "Oh- oh, yeah, sure." She rose to her feet and smoothed her bloody dress. She faced the table. "The General organized a meeting with an alien supplier so that we can gain Carbonite at the same time we pick up our live cargo."
"Live cargo?" Morgana asked.
"We've made a purchase of twelve genetically enhanced creatures that will be aiding us in taking Charactia," Hannibal said. He was still playing with the knife. "Of course, only one of them is full grown but we will grow the rest of them here in the Hotel."
"And what are they, exactly?"
"All good things to those who wait," Hannibal said slyly.
"So anyway- before I was rudely interrupted," Carrie snapped at Morgana. "The supplier will be meeting four of us tomorrow on the planet Bespin. The General did a bunch of really boring math and stuff and decided that using the Demme, we should be able to drop those who will be doing the resurrection stuff and then be back in time to pick them up."
This sent a buzz of excitement up and down the table. The Captain squinted at the paper to make sure he had written down what was said correctly. Pennywise yanked his headphones out.
"Did you just say...Bespin?"
"Four of us get to go...to space?!" The Colonel Regan gasped, sitting upright. She grinned rotten teeth and began to jump up and down in her seat, shaking one of the Privates on her right. "Four of us get to go to SPACE!"
Krueger raised his eyebrows at Hannibal, who shrugged, smiling. He shook his head in disbelief, grinning. Morgana remained unimpressed. She raised a hand and the table quieted again.
"Yeah, honey?" Carrie sneered. "Don't know what space is?"
"Earlier today, before he decided to go somewhere called Green Mist, the Scout explained space to me. So don't assume I'm as stupid as you are," Morgana spat. "My question is...where exactly will this next resurrection be happening?"
"Germany," Hannibal said. "We managed to track the villain's gravesite to somewhere in Hamburg and we should be able to bring him back in less than a few hours. The intended time to begin digging is at 2 AM."
"Don't we need an electrical storm?" Leatherface asked.
"I think Lady Morgana should be able to handle that," Lecter grinned at her. "She's a woman of many talents, as we know. She supposedly once brought an entire army back from the dead."
"I did," Morgana said through her teeth and Krueger leaned over to her and whispered-
"I think that's terrific, by the way,"
"So let me get this straight," The Advisor straightened his tie and stood up. "The plan is to drop off you and whoever will be doing the next resurrection, dig up the grave, and bring him back from the dead. Meanwhile, four of us will just be up in space at Bespin, collecting the supplies, and then come back at the exact time that the resurrection is done."
"Yes, very good! Would you like a sticker?" Hannibal gasped sarcastically and a few people laughed.
"Why do we even need Carbonite if Morgana can bring him back with her powers?"
"Because if anything happens to Morgana, we can keep bringing back bad guys, duh," Samara said. She finally decided to wipe her cut and red was smeared across her cheekbone.
"So who gets to go to space?" Regan asked excitedly.
"Yeah! Who? Who?!" Jason piped up. And suddenly all of the Legionnaires were calling out for answers or begging- 'Me! Me!'. Some were pointing at themselves and rising to their feet and leaning over the table. Hannibal calmly raised a hand.
"The Secretary will be one of those heading to Bespin and she selected who will be accompanying her," Setting his knife on the whiteboard ledge, he picked up the red marker and began to write under the chart column that read "THE SECRETARY".
Underneath, he wrote- 'CARRIE, REGAN, MICHAEL, AND PINHEAD'.
"The Secretary, the Colonel, the Scout, and the Pilot will all be going," he said, turning back to face the table. "The Colonel is the highest ranking of all of you so she will oversee the mission. The Pilot will, of course, fly the Demme. And the Scout is trained in star navigation."
There was a stunned silence. The Pilot, a tall bald man with white skin, pins sticking out from his head, and wearing a long black leather robe and jacket, bit his bottom lip. He began to shake and made an excited squealing noise before suddenly fainting backwards. Regan jumped up.
"I'M GOING TO SPACE! I'M THE COLONEL NOW, BITCHES!" she screamed and stuck up both her middle fingers at the Chief. Samara sunk in her chair and covered her face with her hair.
A new buzz spread throughout the table. Quieter but agitated. Hannibal could pick out questions like- "Why them?" or "You have any idea how long I've waited to go to space?". There was quite a lot of whining, quite literally from the Hunter who was a large slobbering Saint Bernard dog lying on the floor next to the whiteboard.
"So if they're heading to space in a...ship of some kind," Morgana spoke up. "Then you will be heading off to...what was it?"
"Germany," Krueger said blankly. He had been watching Carrie scroll through her phone nonchalantly and there was an obvious bit of envy in his eyes. "It's in Europe. Near where you're from actually."
"Well if it's near where I'm from, why can't we take Camelot back now?" Morgana demanded.
"Because it's not there anymore," Hannibal explained.
"Perhaps it's hidden by magic!" Morgana suggested, sitting upright. "And you're too blind to see it!"
The General clenched and then unclenched his fists. He gave her a forced smile. "If Camelot was still standing, it would be a tourist attraction."
Morgana squinted. "Tourist attraction?"
"Oh geez, somebody give her a dictionary," Carrie groaned. "I can't deal with dumb questions like that on a regular basis." Hannibal hissed at her and she hunched over a bit, quieting down.
"We wouldn't have a large enough army to take Camelot even if it was still there," he told Morgana. "Which is why we're going to our supplier on Bespin. To help us build that army." He looked down the table at those who were still complaining and held up a hand. They silenced immediately.
Then, he turned and began to write on the board again. This time, he wrote seven names down under 'GERMANY'.
"Morgana, the Lieutenant, the Commander, the Chief, the Advisor, and I will be initiating the resurrection. The Server will be coming for extra security measures and because he should probably do something meaningful with his life for once."
"Alright! I won't be totally useless!" Ghostface cried. He high-fived Jigsaw.
"Meanwhile," Hannibal continued. "Here, I want the Tracker to continue his job and I want the Analyzers to monitor the Demme's movements in the security room." the General explained. Chucky glanced over at another doll, this one with orange pigtails and an eerie permanent smile on her face, and the back again.
"I thought the security room was the Captain's duty,"
"Yeah, I thought that was my duty," the Captain muttered, still typing.
"Yes, well, I felt that the Analyzers haven't done enough as of late. The rest of you will continue your normal duties while we are gone. Any final questions?"
Nobody raised their hands.
"Excellent," Lecter said, licking his lips. "Please rise."
The entire table rose to their feet, including Morgana. The grin on Hannibal's face was chilling and cold, just as his voice was.
"I want to see all of your abilities used for the Plan. The act of using fear is what we were designed for. It's our purpose. If we use every power we've been given, this planet will be ours. So..." His eyes wide, his posture terrifyingly straight, he bent his arms in front of his chest, raising his right arm above the left one. "For the Legion."
Morgana watched as all of the monsters made the exact same salute with unfathomable expressions. They spoke, their voices perfectly in sync and in monotone.
"For the Legion,"
Hannibal's eyebrows bobbed at Morgana and glaring, she did the salute as well. Cujo howled from the floor. The General dropped his hands and the monsters did as well.
"Get to work, soldiers. Colonel, I'd like to speak you," he said. "Dismissed."
The monsters broke away from the table, collecting their things, whispering to each other. Some of them stormed out, like Samara. Some took a seat to most likely ask some more questions, like Krueger.
Regan, however, made her way past the table and to the General. Morgana watched her carefully and Regan stuck her tongue out at her. She greeted Hannibal and he went down on one knee, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"I have another order for you," he whispered, turning her away from Morgana and the others.
"Name it,"
He reached into his jumpsuit and pulled out a small slip of folded paper. "When you reach Cloud City, I'd like you to hand this to our supplier. He'll give you a canister of it. Don't let the others see you,"
He handed her the paper and Regan unfolded it. On it was written one word in black ink: Flazin.
"What's Flazin?" she whispered. "And why do you need it?"
"You have an order, Colonel," Hannibal whispered. "Are you or are you not capable of completing it?"
Regan swallowed and tucked the paper into a pocket of her gown. "I am, sir,"
He patted her back and stood up. "Run along then,"
She nodded and ran off in the direction of the back elevators, her wild brown hair flying behind her. Lecter watched her, with his hands behind his back. Krueger stepped up beside him, brow furrowed.
"You know," he said, not looking at the General, "I heard that."
"I'm sure you did," Hannibal said, still staring at the spot Regan had run to. "Your senses are almost as good as mine."
"You're making a mistake,"
"I don't know what you're talking about,"
"Seriously? Don't pretend like I didn't hear when you just confirmed that I did! I know what that was about! It's dangerous and-"
"Lieutenant, I want you to go do a check on the Demme with the Pilot. Make a list, I'm sure you'll enjoy that," Hannibal said quietly.
"General, please, you need to lis-"
"That's an order," Lecter suddenly snapped, glaring up at Krueger. The Lieutenant gulped and his jaw tightened.
"Fine. Fine," he grumbled and turned. "Do whatever you want and ignore the consequences. It's what you're best at."
Hannibal watched him storm off towards the stairs, grabbing Pinhead by the arm and leading him away. The General glared and looked at the floor, his hands clenched into fists. His own jaw tightening, he turned to the white board and began to aggressively erase what he had written.
"You never tell him anything," Morgana's voice came behind him.
The anger in the General's chest broke and he froze from erasing and he swallowed. The sudden sound of her soft voice caused his body to relax a bit and he began to erase more calmly.
"I tell him what I think he needs to know," he said. "And he doesn't need to know everything."
Hannibal's eyes lingered on her name on the white-board, the only name he had not erased yet. He moved the eraser towards it but hesitated. She spoke behind him and his stomach did a strange, but satisfying somersault.
"Are you always so distrustful of each other?" she sneered.
The anger in his chest returned at the somersault feeling, a feeling he was now disgusted at. Why, he wasn't sure. Maybe he was disgusted at her mockery, but she had a point. He shook his head slightly, as if mad at himself, and erased her name. He looked over at her and found himself inexplicably smirking.
"Welcome to the Legion,"
She squinted and then rolled her eyes. She spun on her heel and strode down past the tables towards the stairs, her chin raised. She marched up the stairs, pushing Pennywise and Jigsaw aside with mere glares, and left the Colorado Room.
Hannibal stood there silently, and watched her the entire way.