Disclaimer:  I do not own any of the original characters or stories; Thomas Harris is the author and creator of 'Clarice Starling', 'Hannibal Lecter', 'Ardelia Mapp', and 'Paul Krendler'.  These stories and any new characters are mine (although I will receive no profit from them).  Please ask permission to archive.

These are short stories based on my story called, "The Path Not Taken".  You don't necessarily have to have read it, but they will make much more sense if you do (and I'd really appreciate it).  Each chapter is a separate story, in no particular order.  Please read and review.  Enjoy!

Story: "Moonlight"

Author: Calico calico321@yahoo.com

Rating: R for language and violence.

Summary:  What really happened to Benjamin Thomason after the party in London? 

            Hannibal stood in the corner of the crowded room and watched the duchess parade his exquisite wife around the room.  He could tell by her eyes that she was becoming tired and bored with the people who could at best be described as dull.  He had scouted the piano room earlier and intuited that she would find solace in the privacy there.  He made his way around the perimeter of the merrymakers and walked into the room.  A quick look over his shoulder found her indeed walking in his direction.  He smiled ever so slightly and walked to the back corner, hidden in shadows, to wait for her.  His plan was to come up on her ever so silently, and seduce her in the darkness.  She of course would know it was him, but there in the dark, a mere stone's throw from a room full of people, would give their tryst an added flavor.

            And here she came.  His eyes ate up her visage.  She was wearing a shimmering silver beaded dress cut deep in the bodice and high on the thigh.  He had picked it out for her knowing it would reflect the sparks in her eyes.  Her hair flowed naturally, full with curls, around her shoulders.  A single three-carat diamond set in platinum sat against her breast.  Matching earrings completed the set.  Her scent preceded her into the dim room.

            She went to the piano on the opposite side of the room and stood in the glow of the lamp that rested on it.  She seemed very taken with the multicolored shade and he made a mental note to find an appropriate fixture for their home.  He was on the verge of approaching her when he saw the man walk into the music room.  Hannibal's eyes narrowed just slightly as he watched the newcomer shuffle towards his prize.

            With the first words out of the man's mouth, Hannibal knew this would prove entertaining.  The man, a known drunkard and womanizer, was actually going to attempt to seduce his Clarice.  His smile grew.  Many men had approached her since they had been together, both suave and clumsy.  She deflected them all with a mixture of poise and disdain that he relished.  Yes, this party might just be fun after all.

            He knew once the man, Benjamin Thomason, had introduced himself as the duchess' brother, Clarice would be beside herself.  How to reject such advances without offending the family?  But then Thomason grew vulgar and Hannibal saw the set of her jaw, knew she wanted to badly hurt him for his distasteful and rude comments.  And yet she valiantly tried to extricate herself from him instead.  Only he wouldn't have any of it.  Either too drunk or too stupid, he relentlessly tried to badger her into the one thing he could never possible have.  What would she do? Hannibal mused to himself in the dark.  Would she use brute force and simply beat him until he saw reason, or would she use the ever-present pistol strapped to her thigh?  No, not his Clarice.  He could almost read her mind.  She couldn't do anything to draw attention to them, couldn't risk notice.

            Thomason's remarks concerning Clarice's "satisfaction" almost brought a laugh to Hannibal's lips.  Oh yes, she was quite satisfied, thank you very much.  He saw her turn towards the main room, searching for him no doubt.  He smiled.  She was worried about the poor bastard.  Never fear, my darling, he thought.  He will be rightly taken care of.  And when she had finally had enough "polite" conversation, Clarice removed the gent's hand from her arm.  He heard the words hissed through her teeth, "Leave.  Me.  Alone."  And he most certainly heard the snap, disconnecting the thumb from the rest of Thomason's hand.  Pity.  Then out she walked eyes roving over the faces of the crowd, hoping to find her husband discussing philosophy or art among them.

            When she was gone he came out of the shadows.  Thomason sat, leaning against the piano, apparently passed out from pain and booze.  "Well my friend," he whispered.  "Let's have some fun shall we?"

            Benjamin Thomason awoke to the worst headache he'd known in the twenty something years he'd been drinking.  His eyes tried to focus and he realized he was sitting against a tree within a forest.  His arms were tied behind his back and his legs were spread as far as they could, bound to some sort of stakes in the ground.  It was late he could tell, because the full moon was high above him and lit the whole area up.  "Help!" he yelled.  "Somebody! GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

            "I wouldn't do that if I were you."  The masculine voice was deep and rich and had a melodic cadence to it.  Benjamin cast glances about looking for the source.

            "Who are you?  Where am I?" he asked.

            "Where no one will hear you scream, Mr. Thomason," came the reply as a figure stepped out from behind another tree.  As he walked into the moonlight, Benjamin noted he was wearing a black shirt with black pants.  There was a fedora on his head so he couldn't get a good look at his face.  The man carefully walked over to Benjamin and knelt down beside him.  "How's the hand," he asked casually as he reached behind him and squeezed.  Benjamin let out a shrill scream and, satisfied, Hannibal released him.  "Do you remember what happened?"

            "Oh GOD that bloody hurt!" Benjamin moaned.  "What?  What happened?  Um, it was that crazy bitch.  Yeah, Penelope was 'er name, Penelope Maplewood.  She's married to that old qu…"  He couldn't finish because a firm hand had covered his mouth.

            "I'm sorry what was that again?  I didn't quite catch it."  Hannibal leaned in close and the moonlight provided ample illumination.  His hand held back most of the screeching.  "Ah, I see you finally recognize me."  He released his mouth.

            "Look, whatever she said, it's a lie.  Sh-she came on t-t-to me," Benjamin stuttered. 

"You're calling my wife a liar?  Well that's just fine.  But you know I want to tell you something.  Just a little secret between us boys, right?  The fact Mr. Thomason is that she is very satisfied.  I have found many exotic ways to fuck my wife, and she has nothing to complain about.  Do you understand?"  A slight nod.  "No, no, that just won't do.  When I said 'Do you understand?' I meant, 'DO YOU UNDERSTAND?'"  He slammed Benjamin's head against the tree. 

"God yes!" he whimpered.

"Good!  Now we're getting somewhere.  Now tell me again how my wife came on to you."

"I l-l-lied.  Sh-sh-she didn't.  Please Doctor Maplewood, I-I am so sorry I offended you.  Pleeeaaase…"

"No need for apologies my dear boy.  But there is just one more thing I wanted to tell you."  Hannibal leaned in closer, whispering into his ear, "The name's not really Maplewood.  Perhaps you'll know me better by my real name, Hannibal Lecter?"  He could feel the younger man tense up under him and heard his muffled whimpering.  With a smile Hannibal leaned in even closer and said, "I see my reputation's preceded me," and took Benjamin's ear in his mouth and with a single bite removed it.

            Hannibal leaned back as the other man thrashed about.  He knelt there staring at him until the convulsions stopped.  "You sick fuck!" he screamed.  Hannibal simply looked at him, smiling as the flesh hung from his teeth, the blood gleaming black in the silver light of the moon.  "God why are you doing this to me?" he finally cried, slumped against the tree, warm blood dripping down his neck.

            Hannibal drew the limp ear into his mouth, chewed it up slowly, and swallowed.  Then he said, "You insulted someone I care a great deal about.  Besides," he began as he quickly leaned forward and grabbed the man around the throat, "I believe the world would be a better place without you in it.  How many woman have you assaulted Mr. Thomason?  Bullied into pleasing you while your family's money and connections kept you untouched?  What would you have done to Clarice, not that she would have let you, but what wicked thoughts did you have about my beloved?"  Benjamin's hands flew up and tried to pry away the vice that gripped his throat and cut off his airway, failing to notice Hannibal's other hand.  "You, sir, are going to die screaming and I am going to bury your corpse where it will never be found." 

            The knife easily cut through the wool trousers, and Benjamin saw his testicle fall to the earth before it slowly, but effortlessly continued up his abdomen and into his chest.  As promised, Benjamin screamed until the knife punctured his heart.

            Clarice heard him enter the bedroom, but did not bother to open her eyes.  She had lain awake for three hours, every since he had initially crept out of their bed.  She had ample time to wonder what he was up to and none of it made her happy.  If this had been a conventional marriage, she might have assumed he'd snuck off to be with his mistress.  In her heart she prayed for such convention.

            She'd had to wait, alone, at the party until almost all of the other guests had departed.  When he'd finally come up to her from behind, he had bent forward to kiss her bare shoulder and whispered, "Miss me?"  She was too angry and wound up from her encounter earlier to answer and they had ridden home in silence.  Little did she know that had suited him just fine.  They had retired immediately to bed, where he had waited until he knew she was asleep before sneaking out again.  The sound of the car had awakened her to his absence.

            Now, slipping quickly into his nightclothes she had the impression he'd come into the room naked.  Where were the clothes he'd worn out?  A small voice whispered in the back of her mind, 'He had to destroy the evidence, you twit.'

            The blankets rustled and she felt the bed sag when he climbed into his side.  She hoped he would believe her to be asleep.  She almost cried out when he whispered, only inches from her ear, "How are the lambs this evening, my dear?"

            "Why do you ask?" she replied.

            "It's not usual for you to be awake so early.  I was afraid you'd been troubled by bad dreams."

            "No."

            He waited, not moving, simply hovering over her like a vulture waiting for the carcass to finally expire.  "Don't you want to know where I've been, Clarice?" 

            "Should I?"

            "I would think your curiosity will have been quite piqued by now.  Have you envisioned me in a dalliance, perhaps, with another woman?"

            "Is that what you want me to think?"

            "I wonder, my dear, what would you do if I had a little piece on the side?  Would you fight for your honor as the wronged wife?  Fight for what is rightfully yours?"

            Clarice rolled over to face him, their mouths mere inches from one another.  He was pushing her.  "Do you mean would I kill any woman who had the audacity to fuck my husband?  Isn't that what you're getting at Hannibal?  Would I be willing to murder for you?"

            "Well…."

            She sighed.  Jealousy wasn't a familiar sensation, but now that he'd brought it up, and in their bed no less, she couldn't help but feel the tightening in her chest.  What if she were to catch him in the act?  In her heart of hearts she knew she'd be more than able and possibly quite willing to dispatch the bitch.  "Yes," she said quietly.  "I would kill for you.  Is that what you wanted?  Does that make everything ok?" she said, knowing she'd somehow given him immunity for whatever he'd done.

            "Right as rain."  He kissed her and ran his hand down her side, stroking her in all the right places.  The evening's activities had left him quite aroused and after a few moments she joined him.  The made love until dawn and no more was said about the hours he was missing.

The End.