Chapter 8: Rekindling A Flame
It was the evening. After a surprising morning to say the least, and several games of chess in the afternoon, Alissa excused herself to go work on their fake records, Id's and drivers licenses while Hannibal cooked dinner.
Going into the back room of the cabin, Alissa set to the task of typing on the thick cards which were their licenses. Dr. and Mrs. Lincoln 5345 Park Drive, California. Age- 55 Age- 33. Hair brn. Eyes brn. Hair bln, eyes blu.
She stopped to compare the ages. She hadn't realized how much older he was until then. If she hadn't gone to break him out, he most likely would have died in prison. She shivered at the thought It was easy to imagine filth like rapists who never spoke, or people like Bin Ladin sitting in prison, even in the chair, but an educated, cultured killer? She shuttered. It just couldn't be correct. How could someone so intelligent, do something so completely wrong without remorse? And why eating them? Surely the sanity he seemed to posses was only a façade, surely, he must be a monster beneath it all. Alissa thought back to Clarise's note.
He shouldn't be in jail, he doesn't belong in a cell.
Then where in our world does he belong?
She sighed. Dr. Lecter, seeming to have interpited her thoughts, spoke.
"People are generally afraid of what they can't understand" He replied.
She felt her blood run cold.
There he was, sitting in a chair just inside of the door, the closed door, she noticed.
"Not to sound cliché, but how long have you been there?"
"Long enough to watch you work. That's quite good. Have you done this before? "
"Yes, 20 times before I came to get you. I practiced over and over. I should be an expert by now."
He moved close, stood right behind her to look over her shoulder at the ID's.
She felt her breathing incresing, her heart beating more rapid.
Stay calm, stay calm. How did Clarise do this?
"You need a picture to go with that" He observed.
"Oh! That reminds me, I have the camera, but I wanted you to wear contacts; maroon eyes are rather uncommon. And I see you've already dyed your hair...I'll go fetch the contacts." She said, rising, carful to step as far away as possible.
She left the room quickly, headed for Clarise's.
Dr. Lecter observed the nearly-finished IDs. 33 and 55. He hadn't realised what an age gap there was. Somehow, he had always seen Clarise as his Juinor, but Alissa had seemed...more seasoned. A shame really, that she was so broken up about this. Access greif, guilt, and regret were wasted emotins. Clearly she was only a shell of the woman she had been...but then, he thought with a smile...perhaps a shell is what he really needed.
It would be so much easier to teach, to program, to introduce a vacent person to his knowlage then a strong-willed, close-minded person. he decided to elabrate on this later. When she came back, and set him up for his picture, he noticed, seemingly for the first time, the single remaining spark in her eyes.
He thought to himself: With a twist of my hand...i can rekindle that blazing fire.
Much thanks to Nanci, by best reviwer. For you and Me, i keep writing this. A short chapter, but a chapter none the less. -Jacqueline
It was the evening. After a surprising morning to say the least, and several games of chess in the afternoon, Alissa excused herself to go work on their fake records, Id's and drivers licenses while Hannibal cooked dinner.
Going into the back room of the cabin, Alissa set to the task of typing on the thick cards which were their licenses. Dr. and Mrs. Lincoln 5345 Park Drive, California. Age- 55 Age- 33. Hair brn. Eyes brn. Hair bln, eyes blu.
She stopped to compare the ages. She hadn't realized how much older he was until then. If she hadn't gone to break him out, he most likely would have died in prison. She shivered at the thought It was easy to imagine filth like rapists who never spoke, or people like Bin Ladin sitting in prison, even in the chair, but an educated, cultured killer? She shuttered. It just couldn't be correct. How could someone so intelligent, do something so completely wrong without remorse? And why eating them? Surely the sanity he seemed to posses was only a façade, surely, he must be a monster beneath it all. Alissa thought back to Clarise's note.
He shouldn't be in jail, he doesn't belong in a cell.
Then where in our world does he belong?
She sighed. Dr. Lecter, seeming to have interpited her thoughts, spoke.
"People are generally afraid of what they can't understand" He replied.
She felt her blood run cold.
There he was, sitting in a chair just inside of the door, the closed door, she noticed.
"Not to sound cliché, but how long have you been there?"
"Long enough to watch you work. That's quite good. Have you done this before? "
"Yes, 20 times before I came to get you. I practiced over and over. I should be an expert by now."
He moved close, stood right behind her to look over her shoulder at the ID's.
She felt her breathing incresing, her heart beating more rapid.
Stay calm, stay calm. How did Clarise do this?
"You need a picture to go with that" He observed.
"Oh! That reminds me, I have the camera, but I wanted you to wear contacts; maroon eyes are rather uncommon. And I see you've already dyed your hair...I'll go fetch the contacts." She said, rising, carful to step as far away as possible.
She left the room quickly, headed for Clarise's.
Dr. Lecter observed the nearly-finished IDs. 33 and 55. He hadn't realised what an age gap there was. Somehow, he had always seen Clarise as his Juinor, but Alissa had seemed...more seasoned. A shame really, that she was so broken up about this. Access greif, guilt, and regret were wasted emotins. Clearly she was only a shell of the woman she had been...but then, he thought with a smile...perhaps a shell is what he really needed.
It would be so much easier to teach, to program, to introduce a vacent person to his knowlage then a strong-willed, close-minded person. he decided to elabrate on this later. When she came back, and set him up for his picture, he noticed, seemingly for the first time, the single remaining spark in her eyes.
He thought to himself: With a twist of my hand...i can rekindle that blazing fire.
Much thanks to Nanci, by best reviwer. For you and Me, i keep writing this. A short chapter, but a chapter none the less. -Jacqueline