Chapter 26
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H&W
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While Hannibal didn't like Saskia's plan, he understood and trusted her to get their false innocence proven by one way or the other, but Will was not happy in any means of the word.
Will didn't want to leave her, leave the dogs, leave his family. He knew this day would come, by death or allegations, he would either leave for prison, the mental hospital, or a different country, or if it came to it, death.
It was strange to think he used to care about death, about dying, about leaving everything and being forgotten as you left the world of the living. Now, now he was the one making people leave, the one slicing their throats, their wrists, cutting into their chests as they struggled and fought but they ultimately knew this was their end, that he was their ender.
While Will could have blamed Hannibal for his ultimate falling of grace, he had to admit he liked the fall, liked the way he wasn't hindered by the consciousness he was socialised into having and maintaining. There was a certain freedom when you abandoned everything you were taught by society, abandoning the rules and restrictions that kept you from reaching your truest potential, and his potential was never better shown than when he was with Hannibal and Saskia.
When they said their goodbyes, for now , he had to remind himself, their shadows morphed into shapes before becoming corporal. As Will and Hannibal got into the Bentley Hannibal owned, Saskia stood by the porch to watch them.
The Wendigo was crouched down next to her, watching as they left as the Lycan stood on his back legs on her other side. They had left their human counterparts to stand by their mate, but the Kitsune was unhappy to be left so it followed to be in their shadow. She waved a hand to the Wendigo and Lycan, blowing a kiss towards them before her nine tails curled behind her as she followed Hannibal and Will.
Will knew they would protect her, or at least help her protect herself. He wanted to laugh at the thought. She didn't need protection. She was delicate and fragile, but not like a flower ready to wilt and break down. She was a bomb, a hair's breadth away from exploding and destroying everything within reach.
Saskia was going to continue the reign of the Chesapeake Ripper and Butcher, though the latter wasn't yet released to the public. Though the FBI still believed that the Chesapeake Ripper was Abel Gideon, the three of them didn't trust the FBI to not look into them when the evidence that Leroy Harris supposedly had surfaced. They still didn't know what he actually had, they would leave before it was fully processed and an investigation was started.
As much as they would have loved to see the game of hide and seek between the FBI and the truth, they couldn't stay.
It didn't take long for them to arrive at the little tavern that Saskia's GodFather owned.
"Is this the place Saskia mentioned?" Hannibal asked, turning to Will as they stood outside for a second.
"Yes," Will nodded, before the corner of his lip twerked up in a vague smile. "I'll warn you that Viktor isn't the most welcoming man."
Hannibal acknowledged this, walking into the tavern with the same grace he would have had if he was wearing a suit. Both of them were in jeans and thick shirts. Though the middle of spring was coming, it was still chilly in some parts of the country.
They walked straight up to the bar, Hannibal following Will's lead.
As soon as Will got to the bar, the burly man manning it stopped talking to the woman that wanted a cider. Viktor gave it to her, nodding a goodbye before wiping his hand clean on the tea towel before flinging it over his shoulder.
"Will," He greeted in English. "This is Hannibal?"
"Yes,"
He stuck a hand out. "Viktor Bakshis."
Hannibal nodded, plastering a smile on as he shook his hand.
Viktor didn't frown or even make an expression, only stiffening the muscles of his face in displeasure as they shook hands.
"Do not fake emotions with me," Viktor said with a single shake of the head. "Saskia does it and I do not like it. I would prefer to see no emotions over fake ones."
The pleasant smile dropped, turning into a small arrogant smirk. "Noted."
"Good," He gestured to a booth, handing them both menus. "Choose what you want, it is on me."
After an hour of ordering, eating, and simply chatting, Viktor went back to the bar and grabbed a couple things.
"Keys to the house," He placed the key ring and the phone onto the table. "Burner phones. Only numbers connected to hers. Private and encrypted, the calls can not be tracked or recorded. You do not call her, she calls you. Got it?"
They nodded once.
"Saskia is family, you are Saskia's then you are family too," Viktor leaned towards Hannibal. "I will do Fabius' duty for him since he cannot. You hurt her, I hurt you. Easy. Understood?"
Hannibal did the crinkled smile, the one that meant he was amused by what was happening.
"Crystal."
Will took a sip of his drink, trying to keep the attention away from him as he hid a laugh. Viktor had already given him this warning when Saskia had gone to the bathroom last visit. The man was scary enough without needing the threats of bodily harm. At least Will knew Saskia had a decent family member on her side that wasn't them.
Viktor nodded once. "If she asked me to, I would hunt you down and it would not matter where you would go, I would find you and do as she asked of me."
"Even if she can do it herself?"
"Regardless of if she can do it herself, I would do it because she asked," Viktor wiped his hands on the teatowel again, giving both men a solid look before nodding to himself in approval. "You better not hurt her. She deserves more than being hurt again."
"She deserves more than any of us can give."
"As long as you give yourselves in the truest forms. All she wants is to be happy now, and you make her happy." Viktor gave them one last glare. "Do not screw this up."
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Saskia did not let herself miss them.
There was not enough time in the day for it… And keeping her days full was a necessary move at the moment. She couldn't bear to keep her mind on them or else she would feel sad, and she didn't like that emotion.
Even with half a dozen dogs lounging around, her house was lonely. Saskia couldn't stand being alone after being with someone for so long.
Within the two weeks of them leaving, Saskia was hardly ever seen at home.
She kept busy, disgustingly busy so by the time she came back home, Saskia was exhausted enough to forget her worries and was unable to manage the energy to feel pity for the loneliness she felt.
The FBI had officially hired her as a private contractor. Every day she would ride to Quantico, leaving Countess at home to look after the other dogs. A dog walker would come during the day to take them out but otherwise Saskia took them out during early morning and evenings.
Since she left Countess at home, there was no need for a car. Saskia had always prefered a motorcycle between her thighs. There was something about the danger you were putting yourself in that always got her adrenaline pumping.
Riding a motorcycle just meant she had to wear a lot of jeans and leather to keep herself protected. She wasn't stupid enough to dress in simple outfits that could endanger her or potentially harm her. She kept a change of clothes at the academy in the drawer of her classroom and another in a locker she had there.
Keeping busy was helping her sanity, as was her little extra curricular activity.
She still never left the house without her blade.
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H&W
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For Hannibal, It was strange to stay in Lithuania.
It brought back good and bad memories for him, and he was unsure on how to feel. This country wasn't home anymore than it was Saskia's, even if they still both had family there.
Hannibal knew that Chiyoh was still at the castle. Every few months, he would ask one of the people from the nearby village to check on the castle and bring up food and more things to keep her comfortable. He didn't force her to stay there, she was doing it out of her own volitions. Chiyoh wanted to protect the man that ate Mischa, out of what, even she didn't know but she knew she didn't want him killed just yet.
He was waiting for that yet to turn into killing him now .
Will and Hannibal stayed at Saskia's Lithuanian house for the time being, making preparations as they decided on where to go next. What impressed them most was the jeweler in the town. He was small and very much unknown to everyone besides the people in the town, but his craftsmanship was something to be jealous of.
They both knew Saskia wouldn't be happy with the fact that they took the necklace that contained the red gemstone that was her father's ashes, but they also knew she would love what they were going to do to it.
The gemstone was set into a ring.
A ring that closely matched their own, all sitting on their ring fingers like they were supposed to. Though the men went for a more subtle band with rubies set into it, their rings were just as glamorous as hers.
They sent the proposal box on a next day delivery.
Saskia had called them once within the two week they had been away, and both of them heard the slight inclination of her voice that meant she was having a bad day. Hell, it was a bad two weeks and would continue to be so until this situation was fixed. It seemed like time slowed down, all the days too slow to properly comprehend as they counted each day.
"We have a private compartment on the train," Will said into the phone a week after the first call, standing in the very end compartment as he stood on the weird balcony thing. "Hannibal is ordering some food, he doesn't approve of what I wanted."
Saskia laughed. "Did you want a cheeseburger?"
"Yes, I want a cheeseburger!" Will said. "What's wrong with a cheeseburger?"
"Nothing but you know Hannibal. If he hasn't cooked it, he doesn't approve of it, especially when it comes to us,"
"He still doesn't like us cooking," Will smiled, leaning on the railing. "Not because he doesn't trust us, but because he knows he's a better cook."
"No one can make a better coffee than me though,"
"True," Will smiled. "Hannibal prefers me not to cook unless he's out. He didn't approve of the pastries I've snuck into our room."
"How long until you're in Poland?"
"Another day, I'd think. We're going through Belarus at the moment, and we plan to stop at the apartment in southern Poland. Do you know which one I'm talking about?"
"The one on top of the bakery? Yeah." She said. "I keep track of all the locations. You did arrive in Lithuania with your actual passports? Did Viktor tell you to leave Lithuania with the fake ones?"
"Yeah, we did. Viktor has hold of our real passports at the moment, to make it look like we didn't leave the country." Will nodded to Hannibal as the other male came onto the small back balcony on the train. "Hey, Saskia, I'm putting you on speaker. Hannibal is here."
"Evening Hannibal,"
"It is the afternoon in Baltimore, isn't it?" He questioned. "Good afternoon. How has Jack been treating you?"
"I'm ready to throw a book at him," She sighed. "The Tarot Killer has been real busy recently."
"How many so far?"
"Four bodies within the last thirty days,"
"That's a small time scale between kills," Hannibal hummed. "Have you figured out any reasons for it?"
"Well, there's two of them doing it but Jack believes it's only one person doing it,"
"Perhaps a couple?" Will said.
Saskia agreed. "That's what I'm thinking. A couple who just found that killing has exalerated their diminishing sex lives."
"Age range?"
"Thirties or early forties, old enough to be married for a while but not old enough to be weak and senile just yet,"
"How has the FBI reacted to the information Leroy Harris gave out?"
"They asked me to give them the keys to your houses but I refused until they got warrants, and they're still being processed. I've already cleared out the freezer at Wolf Trap," She said. "What do you want me to do with the basement at yours, Hannibal?"
"The basement self cleans, but I want you to put a pig's carcass in the freezer there and maybe a cow's. There's equipment that could be used for cutting them up, things that would be found at a butcher's shop. The carcasses would make having the equipment less suspicious."
"Of course. And the office?"
"Nothing there besides the scalpels but even Jack knows that I used them to sharpen my pencils before I draw…"
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"Fifth body in four weeks," Saskia said to the trainee class of agents. With Will gone for a while, she was asked to take over some of his classes because there weren't enough staff. "This is Mr Bryan Marker, twenty eight. He lived with his wife and two children, twin boy and girl."
The picture of mousy haired Bryan Marker appeared, a simple smile on his face from his company ID.
"Mr Marker was a salesman for a tech company that sold stocks for their new up and coming release, and he was also a man who committed tax evasion and fraud which his family didn't know about. He pocketed some of the money he made illegally and didn't announce it." Saskia changed the slide, letting the new images settle in the minds of the students. "He was found yesterday at five AM by some runners. His eyes were plucked out and mouth sewn shut."
"What card is he supposed to be?" A student asked.
"The Magician, but reversed."
The body was suspended upside down with ropes in the barn house. Legs tied together as the navy fabric of the robe was forced against their skin with stiff rope binding it. The left hand was pressed to their chest, palm inwards as the other arm was left more or less handing down but with the pointer finger stuck out.
"The reversal of the Magician usually meant, by some decks and interpretations, that the person was getting further away from the truth. There was a bigger chance for the person to be tricked or out of touch with what they want to do. There could be an illusion that is actually hiding what is happening." She let that sink in before adding, "It also meant that the person should consider their past before they move forward."
"I'm sorry to cut the lesson short," Jack said as he walked into the room, quickly gaining everyone's attention as he took up presence. "But I need Doctor Alasite for a case."
"Another card?" She asked.
"Believe so. Don't know until you get there,"
"Now I have to go and look at another dead body instead of teaching you miserable lot," She smiled as the class laughed, knowing her dark humour already. "Class dismissed."
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The Tarot Killer wasn't a single person as the FBI presumed.
Two distinct sets of footprints and two distincts ways of killing and slaughtering showed the difference between them.
A man and woman, neither taller nor more dangerous than the other, found their next victim at a couple minutes past eight in the evening. It wasn't yet dark but it was getting there, the sun only half an hour away from completely setting. It set a thin amount of light across the clearing as the Tarot Killers approached.
The two of them were taking a night stroll through a path and decided to take a new one when they heard the crackle of fire, following the new light. They didn't intend for the man to be their next victim, but it was too convenient to not kill him. They wanted a new victim soon, wanting to get another card out of the way as they were slowly reaching their goal.
The victim was an elderly man, perhaps in his sixties with a greying beard and hair as he sat around the fire he crafted in rags for clothing.
They turned his rags into something even less than that, almost scalping the clothes off of him as they forced him to sit criss crossed before the fire. Broken ankles and shattered knees would hinder someone sitting comfortably, and that was the point!
Her partner split two cuts into the sides of the man's throat, making blood splur downwards as he forced a cloth gag into his mouth
She went through his belongings as the man choked on his blood, trying to dislodge the liquid and cloth gag but evidently failing. When she found what she was looking for, she had her partner tie the victim's wrists together so she could work. She had a long thread and needle in hand, slowly, creating as much pain and tightness between the two appendages she was sewing together, sewed his pinkies together from wrist to pinky tip. She did this to each finger, almost making a fake hand pattern if she had been working on fabric instead of flesh, muscle and bone.
He wanted to scream but the gag stopped him, only allowing out gurgles of pain and groans.
With a swift swipe of his hand, he hacked off the victim's head which just plopped to the ground with a thud. She grabbed it by the head, lifting it up and laughing as she found the expression on the face hilarious. She tossed it back to him, letting her partner put the head in the man's lap.
Saskia dissociated from herself, her eyes becoming a little disconnected with what she saw and what she saw .
The crime scene was lit up by the day's sun, leaving the victim's body in the middle of the place with a burned out campfire and his head in his lap as he seemed to pray over it. Where his head should have been was a tarot card, The Hermit.
The scene hadn't been touched by anyone.
"The Hermit," Jack said, plucking the card from where it was embedded in the decapitated neck area. "What did you see?"
Saskia began to explain...
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"Good afternoon, Saskia," Bedelia greeted as she came for her appointment.
"Sorry for my state of dress, Bedelia," She smiled apologetically as the doctor let her in. "There wasn't enough time to get changed and get here on time."
"You're dressed at least, I can't say that for some of my previous clients," Bedelia said, looking at Saskia dressed in a pair of dark sport shorts that were loose and went to her knees and a black cami over purple sports bra.
They both sat down, an ice water in front of both of them as they were in the living room where Bedelia did her therapy session with Saskia.
It had been a long day for Saskia, first the body, then her mind didn't want to let her stop thinking about her men and she became angry because of it. She had to work some of her anger out of her system, before she became thirsty for something that came in a liquid form and would hurt to get out.
She sat with her arms crossed over her chest, letting her hand trail to the faint scar on her left shoulder. Saskia didn't notice she had done this, trailing the scar with her fingertips as she absently sat there in silence as Bedelia just watched her.
Bedelia had to prompt her to speak about the scar she had.
"Scars have the power to remind us that the past was real," Saskia said, "That we survived whatever hurt us, whatever wanted to kill us."
"Who gave you that scar?"
"Leroy,"
"Why did he stab you?"
"I told him he would go to prison because he ruined my books' reputation,"
"Were you more concerned with your books' reputation than your own?"
"My reputation as Syn hasn't been affected as badly as my books'. Those books were the things that got me through bad times in my life," She sighed.
Bedelia nodded. "Are you a religious woman, Saskia?"
"Being brought up in a religious environment, though not in the actual practise of it, I'm left with something that is not quite religious and yet some of my family said I had a God Complex." She tilted the glass, watching the ice float soundlessly. "I will not bend or bow to a god who brings harm and yet is revered as being all loving. God is a contradiction of himself."
"How?"
"He loves us all equally and yet he will allow his creations, which he made in his image, to be sent to hell because of something they couldn't change."
"Sexuality would be one of them,"
"Yes. If we are perfect, made in his image, he would not have allowed us to be what He did not want us to be."
"Would he rather us be lying hypocrites so we can supposedly appease him?" Bedelia asked. "To lie to ourselves is to lie to Him, and lying is a sin. We cannot win as humans, as his creations, but we can ask for forgiveness."
"Why should we ask for forgiveness when there is nothing to forgive? He made us how we are, he made us with perfection in mind and gave us free will." Saskia sipped the water, cooling her temper down. "I tried to get into religion when I was younger but it never sat well with me. I couldn't find one that worked for me. The closest ones were Pagan religions that were much more free with their practise with a huge variety of traditions and deities. But I would rather be my own god than worship one."
"As a god, would you be above humanity?"
"No."
"What would you be then?"
"I'm not going to be a slave to human confinement because some have said other ways are wrong," Saskia said. "I'm going to live my life how I want to."
Even if it meant being a killer and taking the lives of others as she wished, and being in a relationship with two other serial killers with no empathy or kindness for anyone but themselves.
If her body was a temple, she was the god that resided in it, protected by the beast of a darker nature she was forced to hide.
Only two others were allowed near this god without any type of sacrifice.
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