(A/N: Dear readers, first of all thank you for waiting
for so long for the next chapter, school has been burning me out. I tried to
stay true to the character of Lecter; I hope I did him justice. Thank all of
you who reviewed, it means a lot to me-
Jacquline Christine)
"I hate memory. It never lets me forget what I want
to."
- Unknown
Chapter Six: Pain of Memory
The Cabin door swung open, and the hinges creaked from disuse. Alissa walked in, turning behind her to check on the Dr.
She waved toward the living room, signaling him to sit down. She was too tired to waste breath. She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of brandy, a large one.
She looked back at him. "Would you like a drink?"
"No thank you" he said, settling down in an armchair.
Alissa returned to the living room, and lit the fireplace, yet again that evening. Drink in hand; she moved to collapse on the couch, her eyes always open, on Dr. Lecter. All she wanted to do was get drunk and go to sleep, but neither was possible. Cringing with realization that she was about to get drunk no matter what her senses told her, she tossed the still-full glass onto the fire, and made a small noise close to a whimper.
Dr. Lecter, ever observant, seemed to be able to read her train of thought exactly, and smiled that goddamned condescending smile which would eventually become very familiar to Alissa. She turned back to him, knowing he must be just as tired as she was, and awaiting her to specify a few more things, but too polite to ask. She took in another deep breath before forcing on a hospitable pretence.
"I imagine you want to know where you are sleeping…through that door" she gestured to the wooden door behind herself. "That's your room. There is suitable clothing, Clarise had you file, it had your measurements, I bought you some things to wear" she explained, feeling damn tired at the same time she felt the need to be detailed. "I'll go into town tomorrow, if I'm still alive tomorrow, to get whatever you need, as you clearly can't go. I'll be in there, should there be an emergency or anything" she gestured to a door on the opposite side of the room. "Just for your information, the plane tickets are hidden, so, not that this would stop you, but if you do decide to leave before two weeks, or kill me, or whatever, I doubt you'll find them."
"There's lots more we have to discuss, but I am too tired at this time to care, so it'll wait until tomorrow. Any questions?"
"Where were you when they told you?" He asked.
"What?"
"When they told you Clarise was shot six times in the head at a drug raid, where were you?"
Alissa closed her eyes. This was payback, for handing out orders to him like he was some kind of half-whit child, for pretending to be in charge.
" It was just after my afternoon case, just before dusk, it…it was all over the news at that point, but…I didn't know yet. Malcolm, his office is just down the hall, he came in and told me, and…and I turned on the TV, and…I already knew, but I didn't want to think, I had to be sure"
"What was your first reaction, after you accepted it?"
She looked at him, pleading, please, not tonight, not this, but he was cold, and his gaze, bordering on excitement and pleasure, told her to continue.
"I thought, I thought, Jesus, she was too young, and, that I was alone."
"You and Clarise, you loved her very much, did you ever think of her in a sexual nature?"
The thought made her stomach lurch.
"No. We were…she was like my sister, and then it was like…like watching your sister die."
All the humor from him seemed to vanish.
"It can be rather trying, don't you think?"
"Yes" she said, never suspecting a second meaning behind the words, an understanding…she never expected kinship with a cannibal.
"I think we've both had enough excitement, good night, Alissa" and with that he left her alone.
She wondered why he had let it go, why all his enjoyment of it seemed to be lost. Knowing it was useless to attempt what hundreds of qualified professionals had tired to do, she didn't waste a second to attempt to analyze Dr. Lecter, she simply stumbled into bed and slept deeply.
But even in the depths of her sleep her nightmares pursuer her.
"If you don't control your mind, someone else
will."
***********************************************************************************************************
Dr. Lecter closed the door quietly behind himself. Clarise, Misca. He lost his sister, and all along he had compared it to Clarise's loss of her father, but he now realized it wasn't the same, it was quite different. Clarise's father protected, and so did he, Clarise needed protection, so did Mischa, he had taken Clarise's father's place, and she had taken Mischa's.
And now, the new affinity was his relation to Alissa. Alissa had lost Clarise; He had lost Mischa, and in a way lost Clarise too. But after all, hadn't Clarise mostly been the embodiment of his vision of an adult Mischa? Wasn't that what it all came down to? She was Mischa's place, Mischa's shell, and yet, she had always been Clarise too.
Alissa was such a special lady. She was such a wonderful subject to study because she proved to be very empathetic, overly compassionate, thus making her distress all the more tangible. He had no doubt it would prove to be an interesting two weeks.
Yes, he did intend to stay, not because he was ordered to, or even because it was apart of Clarise's last wish, but simply because it was the most convenient situation at the present time, and he didn't have any desire to concern himself with avoiding police, and because Alissa was quite…interesting.
However, her ordering him around and her perception that she was in charge would have to come to an end. He had little doubt she would realize her place in a day or so, if he made it evident.
As she had told him, there was clothing in the closet, a number of good suits, slacks, dress shirts, casual shirts, even jeans, cotton pants, running shoes, dress shoes. In the draws were pajamas, and all the essentials. He noted, underneath the clothing, there was a half-empty pack of cigars.
On the bedside table there was a picture of Clarise, Alissa, and two men, standing in front of the cabin. Clarise was leaning against a man with glasses and brown hair, while Alissa was enfolded in the arms of a man a bit…older. His hair was brown, starting to gray, and he had a certain look, the look of a businessman.
It didn't take a genius to realize Alissa and Clarise must have vacationed up here with various love interests. Looking about, he realized he was in Alissa's room. It would have made more sense to put him in Clarise's room, but she hadn't. He quickly drew the conclusion that Alissa wanted to be close to Clarise's things.
On the dresser was a picture of Clarise at her graduation. The day she had sealed the line-she was forever the huntress and he the hunted. Along with it was a picture of Clarise and Alissa, on a beach of some sort, the water was too clear to be from around there. Must have been Hawaii or the Caribbean.
How quaint. The all-American Hawaiian vacation. Best friends, practically sisters. The picture was clearly not recent, perhaps a few years ago. And that was it, no other personalized artifacts in Alissa's room.
He drew back the curtains to survey the surroundings. There was wild game near by; he had been able to smell the stag's territory marks, and a river or a lake near by too, for the forest to be so thriving and thick around that area. The night sky was beautiful, bright in all it's glory, no city lights to outshine the star spangled atmosphere. Quite lovely.
He had always preferred the night to the day, nighttime heightened the senses, nighttime eased the tension, it was beautiful the way the ocean, with it's dark and mysterious nighttime waters, was beautiful. Night made everything beautiful, because evil things and good things, ugly things and pretty things all cast alike shadows.
"I have loved the stars too
fondly to be fearful of the night."
-Sara Williams