Disclaimer: The usual Stuff. Of course none of us own Hannibal Lecter or Clarice Starling, but anyone else is mine. Thank you Mr. Harris for such an elaborate imagination.
I know this may seem a little rough, but I just wanted to get it out and see what people think. Just for note, the italics are the character's thoughts.
Book I
Part I
"Would you ever say 'stop, if you love me you'll stop?'"
"Not in a thousand years." As soon as she said that, Clarice knew it to be a mistake, but the damage was done.
"Not in a thousand years. That's my girl."
Lecter leaned toward Clarice and for a moment, as Lecter's mouth loomed over her own, she felt an ounce of fear. That remark could have cost her her life, but then she was reassured she'd live as she felt Lecter's lips touch her own. Her next action, the clinking of the cuffs around her and Lecter's wrists had her thinking that she had finally won. Lecter was stuck to her and the police would be there any moment.
"Now that's interesting Clarice. I'm rather pressed for time. Where's the key?" Clarice just stood there looking at him as she knew it had to be this way.
"Where is the key?" Clarice still refused as she watched Lecter searching the kitchen frantically. Finally he found something to suit his needs: a cleaver.
"Above the wrist or below," Lecter taunted. "This is really going to hurt." As the cleaver went up into the air, Clarice turned her head, squinted her eyes, and cried out for any God that there was.
Clarice sat bold upright in her bed. A warm, familiar hand went to her back, rubbing it ever so gently.
"Bad dream again?"
"Yeah, the same one every night," Clarice replied.
"Want to talk about it? You know it will help."
"No, no. I'll be all right."
"Clarice....this is the fifth time this week alone."
"I know, I know. I'm ok. Go back to sleep."
Part II
The next morning, Clarice awoke to an empty bed with feelings of regret, much as she did every morning. The now vacant spot next to her didn't bother her, as Shawn, her fiancée, had to be up early for work. She was now becoming somewhat accustomed to these feelings of regret, but was still uneasy about them and unsure as to what she should do about them. The only person on Earth that could help her was not even an option now. It had been three and a half years since that night in the kitchen. Three and a half years and hundreds of hours of therapy sessions, yet she still had regrets.
She had been forced to tell the entire story to the FBI and her statement from that night's events was now sealed under the highest security clearance possible. Now only three people knew what had happened that night: her therapist, herself, and him. Not even Shawn knew. The FBI had ruled that the drugs Lecter had administered effected her, keeping her from apprehending Lecter, but the fact that she had been under suspension when she went to Muskrat Farm cost her the job. Now she headed up the security department at D.C.'s largest Federal Bank. It was a step down in rank, but a boost in pay.
But this was a life anew. New job, new home, new man. No longer did she have to live those days of working in "Hannibal's House." Nor did she have to spend every minute of the day wondering where he was or what he was doing. She was free now, free of him and his torment. Or at least that's what the therapist had told her.
Tonight, Clarice's dream was different, and more disturbing to her progress towards a new life. Tonight's dream represented all of Clarice's regrets as it was a dream full of passion and no regrets as her mind played out for her what she had subconsciously wanted to happen that night in the kitchen.
Throughout the night, Shawn was awoken to hear one thing he never wanted to hear from Clarice. "Oh Hannibal" and "Hannibal, please." These two statements were repeated over and over in her dreaming. Over and over Shawn heard Clarice repeat Lecter's name as he saw her look completely at peace and relaxed for the first time in three and a half years.
Part III
Sunshine. Birds singing. Fresh dew on the lawn. This morning Clarice woke to a warm bed, yet she was not at all interested in the body that lay next to her. Clarice walked to the bathroom to brush her teeth, and as she did, her eyes began to close and took her to the dream from the night before. As she stood there brushing mechanically, a warm arm slipped around her tummy and gave her a hug.
"Oh Hannibal," Clarice gasped
"Clarice?" a voice questioned. She showed no response.
"Clarice.......What are you talking about? Clarice......CLARICE???"
At the last calling of her name, Clarice snapped from her dream and back into reality.
"Huh?"
"Clarice, what's going on inside that head of yours? You've been dreaming about Hannibal Lecter??? Last night in your sleep, you kept saying his name over and over.....erotically. And just now.....talk to me, please!"
"Really, I'm ok. The, uh, therapist said it's normal. Part of the healing process, really."
Clarice was lying. Half of the lie was to try and convince herself she was normal because she wasn't sure what was going on, and it wouldn't help to tell Shawn about it until she had figured it out for herself. In some way, it was at this moment where Shawn began to feel Clarice slipping away, yet he felt in his heart that she loved him, and he definately loved her, so things would work out for them in the end. Clarice just needs some time and space. But that morning there was a strange aura of peace and calm that radiated from her body like sunlight. Shawn couldn't help but notice the glow as he stood back to admire her physique. The wedding was only two weeks away.
I know this may seem a little rough, but I just wanted to get it out and see what people think. Just for note, the italics are the character's thoughts.
Book I
Part I
"Would you ever say 'stop, if you love me you'll stop?'"
"Not in a thousand years." As soon as she said that, Clarice knew it to be a mistake, but the damage was done.
"Not in a thousand years. That's my girl."
Lecter leaned toward Clarice and for a moment, as Lecter's mouth loomed over her own, she felt an ounce of fear. That remark could have cost her her life, but then she was reassured she'd live as she felt Lecter's lips touch her own. Her next action, the clinking of the cuffs around her and Lecter's wrists had her thinking that she had finally won. Lecter was stuck to her and the police would be there any moment.
"Now that's interesting Clarice. I'm rather pressed for time. Where's the key?" Clarice just stood there looking at him as she knew it had to be this way.
"Where is the key?" Clarice still refused as she watched Lecter searching the kitchen frantically. Finally he found something to suit his needs: a cleaver.
"Above the wrist or below," Lecter taunted. "This is really going to hurt." As the cleaver went up into the air, Clarice turned her head, squinted her eyes, and cried out for any God that there was.
Clarice sat bold upright in her bed. A warm, familiar hand went to her back, rubbing it ever so gently.
"Bad dream again?"
"Yeah, the same one every night," Clarice replied.
"Want to talk about it? You know it will help."
"No, no. I'll be all right."
"Clarice....this is the fifth time this week alone."
"I know, I know. I'm ok. Go back to sleep."
Part II
The next morning, Clarice awoke to an empty bed with feelings of regret, much as she did every morning. The now vacant spot next to her didn't bother her, as Shawn, her fiancée, had to be up early for work. She was now becoming somewhat accustomed to these feelings of regret, but was still uneasy about them and unsure as to what she should do about them. The only person on Earth that could help her was not even an option now. It had been three and a half years since that night in the kitchen. Three and a half years and hundreds of hours of therapy sessions, yet she still had regrets.
She had been forced to tell the entire story to the FBI and her statement from that night's events was now sealed under the highest security clearance possible. Now only three people knew what had happened that night: her therapist, herself, and him. Not even Shawn knew. The FBI had ruled that the drugs Lecter had administered effected her, keeping her from apprehending Lecter, but the fact that she had been under suspension when she went to Muskrat Farm cost her the job. Now she headed up the security department at D.C.'s largest Federal Bank. It was a step down in rank, but a boost in pay.
But this was a life anew. New job, new home, new man. No longer did she have to live those days of working in "Hannibal's House." Nor did she have to spend every minute of the day wondering where he was or what he was doing. She was free now, free of him and his torment. Or at least that's what the therapist had told her.
Tonight, Clarice's dream was different, and more disturbing to her progress towards a new life. Tonight's dream represented all of Clarice's regrets as it was a dream full of passion and no regrets as her mind played out for her what she had subconsciously wanted to happen that night in the kitchen.
Throughout the night, Shawn was awoken to hear one thing he never wanted to hear from Clarice. "Oh Hannibal" and "Hannibal, please." These two statements were repeated over and over in her dreaming. Over and over Shawn heard Clarice repeat Lecter's name as he saw her look completely at peace and relaxed for the first time in three and a half years.
Part III
Sunshine. Birds singing. Fresh dew on the lawn. This morning Clarice woke to a warm bed, yet she was not at all interested in the body that lay next to her. Clarice walked to the bathroom to brush her teeth, and as she did, her eyes began to close and took her to the dream from the night before. As she stood there brushing mechanically, a warm arm slipped around her tummy and gave her a hug.
"Oh Hannibal," Clarice gasped
"Clarice?" a voice questioned. She showed no response.
"Clarice.......What are you talking about? Clarice......CLARICE???"
At the last calling of her name, Clarice snapped from her dream and back into reality.
"Huh?"
"Clarice, what's going on inside that head of yours? You've been dreaming about Hannibal Lecter??? Last night in your sleep, you kept saying his name over and over.....erotically. And just now.....talk to me, please!"
"Really, I'm ok. The, uh, therapist said it's normal. Part of the healing process, really."
Clarice was lying. Half of the lie was to try and convince herself she was normal because she wasn't sure what was going on, and it wouldn't help to tell Shawn about it until she had figured it out for herself. In some way, it was at this moment where Shawn began to feel Clarice slipping away, yet he felt in his heart that she loved him, and he definately loved her, so things would work out for them in the end. Clarice just needs some time and space. But that morning there was a strange aura of peace and calm that radiated from her body like sunlight. Shawn couldn't help but notice the glow as he stood back to admire her physique. The wedding was only two weeks away.
