~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
This chapter is dedicated to the evil...*coughs*I mean amazing writer Samantha Bridges, as it is her work that has inspirited my motives within this chapter.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
'At the End of the Game'
Part Seven: Lost- An Interlude
Clarice descended the stairs in complete darkness, thoroughly confused as to how she had gotten from the bedroom to the stairs without conscious thought.
Her hand grazed the cold wood, as she felt her way down the banister. Her aim was to locate her gun, and preferably her handcuffs, hide them in her room, and apprehend Lecter at a vulnerable moment when he returns to check on her.
A loud thud echoed through the cabin as Clarice missed the last step and fell forward on her knees into the hallway. Her hands scraped the dusty surface as she attempted to construct a mental image of the ground floor.
Dust collected in her palms as she moved, still remaining on her knees, across the room, in search of familiar objects.
She pushed aside the notion that it was highly unlikely he would hide the gun at all, and it was most probably resting in his lap upstairs.
Her hands travelled further to intercept the bottom corner of a hard table.
Clarice was about to rise when her hand brushed over something else, something a lot softer and considerably cleaner. It was a leather shoe. *his* leather shoe...
..attached to a warm leg.
She froze in her spot, on all fours, one hand on his shin, the other flat on the floor. Adrenalin flushed though her body and her heartbeat provided a dynamic rhythm to the silent shadows.
(Don't look up, Starling. Don't look up
She looked up. A pair of intense maroon eyes glared down at her, light flickered in his pupils as a match was swiftly lit.
" Dr. Lecter...I..." Her voice was far too shaky to hold confidence.
" Going for a little walk-about, Clarice?" His tone was cold.
"I wasn't tired"
"I was under the impression that you were in search of your weapon. That or an exit." No change in his tone.
" What if I was?" A surge of bravado hit her as she stood and stepped back from him. She had the sudden urge to wipe her dusty hands down the front of her pyjamas, but in value of her life, declined.
" Well my dear, that would be classified as cheating, in our little game." That set him off. She saw a tight grin begin to form.
It angered her that he still considered everything to be game. He had gone to so much effort to spite her, to throw her into a corner and wait for her to retaliate.
Her rage consumed her sense and her mouth was open before she could control it.
" This is all about some 'Game'. A game, which has left me without wilful choice, Dr Lecter. I want out" She grew taller with spontaneous growth of conviction.
" Trend carefully dear agent, you can never assume the exact location of a landmine" His shadow grew larger as he approached her.
Every step she took to increase the distance between their bodies, he balanced out by taking large strides of his own. Soon, Clarice found herself with her back hard against a wall.
" What did you think this was all about Clarice? Certainly you haven't granted yourself higher status being my playmate? " He continued
She was shocked.
Momentary confusion pulled a blanket over her vision. Then it was all clear.
Ten long years came to an abrupt dead end. She had indeed granted herself higher than truthful status; she had made the terrible mistake of judging a madman. Her eyes fell to the floor in defeat.
" I brought you all this way to watch you fight, Clarice, please, don't disappoint me now" His body was now pressed against her own.
" But...I" Her bottom lip began to tremble with realisation.
She felt used. How silly she had been to believe that he saw her as anything other than the bravest opponent for his perverse amusement. Her strength stemmed from the knowledge of self-power and courage. Hannibal Lecter had successfully shot down both, and she was now left standing weak, lost in the game, or lost to the game, she was unsure of which was most appropriate.
A single tear slid over her left cheek, as she heard the unmistaken slice of his harpy through her silk pyjama top.
"It seems as though we're reached an understanding Special Agent Starling."
There was no movement from the frail body beneath him. The strength of his mass was the only support holding up her completely powerless form.
" Perhaps now you'll ask me to stop hmmm?" His nose was at her hair, inhaling deeply.
" We've been through this already. Not in a thousand years" Her voice was low and without intended sarcasm. Her final effort, her final response.
" Your quite right, my apologies, Clarice." He smiled as his harpy cleanly cut through her stomach, just below her abdominal cavity. Crimson blood soaked though the expensive nightwear.
" That's my girl" He lightly caressed her lips with his before he stepped back to eye his work.
That's how she saw him in her last few moments, smiling evils as he licked her blood from the metal blade.
It was over now; everything was in its place. Her lasts thought were of how painless it all seemed. She imagined she was experiencing the feeling prior to death, the void of nothingness. Her eyes slowly began to shut as the image of Hannibal Lecter faded to back...or were they opening...
This chapter is dedicated to the evil...*coughs*I mean amazing writer Samantha Bridges, as it is her work that has inspirited my motives within this chapter.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
'At the End of the Game'
Part Seven: Lost- An Interlude
Clarice descended the stairs in complete darkness, thoroughly confused as to how she had gotten from the bedroom to the stairs without conscious thought.
Her hand grazed the cold wood, as she felt her way down the banister. Her aim was to locate her gun, and preferably her handcuffs, hide them in her room, and apprehend Lecter at a vulnerable moment when he returns to check on her.
A loud thud echoed through the cabin as Clarice missed the last step and fell forward on her knees into the hallway. Her hands scraped the dusty surface as she attempted to construct a mental image of the ground floor.
Dust collected in her palms as she moved, still remaining on her knees, across the room, in search of familiar objects.
She pushed aside the notion that it was highly unlikely he would hide the gun at all, and it was most probably resting in his lap upstairs.
Her hands travelled further to intercept the bottom corner of a hard table.
Clarice was about to rise when her hand brushed over something else, something a lot softer and considerably cleaner. It was a leather shoe. *his* leather shoe...
..attached to a warm leg.
She froze in her spot, on all fours, one hand on his shin, the other flat on the floor. Adrenalin flushed though her body and her heartbeat provided a dynamic rhythm to the silent shadows.
(Don't look up, Starling. Don't look up
She looked up. A pair of intense maroon eyes glared down at her, light flickered in his pupils as a match was swiftly lit.
" Dr. Lecter...I..." Her voice was far too shaky to hold confidence.
" Going for a little walk-about, Clarice?" His tone was cold.
"I wasn't tired"
"I was under the impression that you were in search of your weapon. That or an exit." No change in his tone.
" What if I was?" A surge of bravado hit her as she stood and stepped back from him. She had the sudden urge to wipe her dusty hands down the front of her pyjamas, but in value of her life, declined.
" Well my dear, that would be classified as cheating, in our little game." That set him off. She saw a tight grin begin to form.
It angered her that he still considered everything to be game. He had gone to so much effort to spite her, to throw her into a corner and wait for her to retaliate.
Her rage consumed her sense and her mouth was open before she could control it.
" This is all about some 'Game'. A game, which has left me without wilful choice, Dr Lecter. I want out" She grew taller with spontaneous growth of conviction.
" Trend carefully dear agent, you can never assume the exact location of a landmine" His shadow grew larger as he approached her.
Every step she took to increase the distance between their bodies, he balanced out by taking large strides of his own. Soon, Clarice found herself with her back hard against a wall.
" What did you think this was all about Clarice? Certainly you haven't granted yourself higher status being my playmate? " He continued
She was shocked.
Momentary confusion pulled a blanket over her vision. Then it was all clear.
Ten long years came to an abrupt dead end. She had indeed granted herself higher than truthful status; she had made the terrible mistake of judging a madman. Her eyes fell to the floor in defeat.
" I brought you all this way to watch you fight, Clarice, please, don't disappoint me now" His body was now pressed against her own.
" But...I" Her bottom lip began to tremble with realisation.
She felt used. How silly she had been to believe that he saw her as anything other than the bravest opponent for his perverse amusement. Her strength stemmed from the knowledge of self-power and courage. Hannibal Lecter had successfully shot down both, and she was now left standing weak, lost in the game, or lost to the game, she was unsure of which was most appropriate.
A single tear slid over her left cheek, as she heard the unmistaken slice of his harpy through her silk pyjama top.
"It seems as though we're reached an understanding Special Agent Starling."
There was no movement from the frail body beneath him. The strength of his mass was the only support holding up her completely powerless form.
" Perhaps now you'll ask me to stop hmmm?" His nose was at her hair, inhaling deeply.
" We've been through this already. Not in a thousand years" Her voice was low and without intended sarcasm. Her final effort, her final response.
" Your quite right, my apologies, Clarice." He smiled as his harpy cleanly cut through her stomach, just below her abdominal cavity. Crimson blood soaked though the expensive nightwear.
" That's my girl" He lightly caressed her lips with his before he stepped back to eye his work.
That's how she saw him in her last few moments, smiling evils as he licked her blood from the metal blade.
It was over now; everything was in its place. Her lasts thought were of how painless it all seemed. She imagined she was experiencing the feeling prior to death, the void of nothingness. Her eyes slowly began to shut as the image of Hannibal Lecter faded to back...or were they opening...