The small voice seemed amazingly large in the strange atmosphere of the basement. Both Emily and Lisa stared wild eyed at the intruder.

"Mommy, I can't sleep." Two year old Michelle Starling Rinaldi stood not ten feet from the bloodshed, clutching a chocolate brown teddy bear almost as large as she was. She stared up at her mother and protector with large maroon eyes. The Harpy clattered from Emily's hands as she rushed to the child.

"Oh god, Mischa!" she scooped her daughter into her arms and held her close against her, ignoring the blood slicked hands that were marring the pale pink footed jammies.

"Mommy, whatcha doin?" Lisa whimpered in the background, and Mischa's intent gaze sought her face. "She hurt, Mommy."

"Oh god, oh god, oh god." it was becoming a mantra for Emily as she stood there with her daughter. The question caused Emily to turn her daughter away from the ghastly sight that was set before them. For the first time Emily was frightened by what she saw. Blood pooled on the plastic covered floor, a woman bound to a pole with her intestines looped out and around the barb wire wrapped pole.

Dear God, what have I become? The thought lasted only an instant before she slipped back into the black void that she had come to know so well. The horror of the situation vanished as quickly as it had become apparent. She set Mischa on the table and kissed her forehead lightly.

"Mommy will be done in just a moment, Miss Mischa, okay?" she reached for the Harpy and gripped it with a fierce resolve. As she bent once again to the crank handle on the stand she looked up to Mischa. "Cover your eyes, Mischa."

*****

Dr. Hannibal Lecter returned to his home three hours later in a very foul mood. After arriving at the hospital he'd been sent on a wild goose chase, from the ER to the psych ward. Seemingly, no one knew why he was there since no one had called for a consult. He had voiced his unhappy opinion to the heads of both areas before leaving the hospital. It had taken all his resolve not to teach either department head a little lesson about rudeness. He came into the house and was shrugging off the overcoat when he noticed the basement door stood wide open. Curiosity grabbed him and he headed down the steps.

The sight that greeted him once he reached the basement was horrific. Tied to a metal pole in the right side of the basement was a woman he knew as their gardener. He rushed over to her, wary of the blood slicked surface beneath the soles of his shoes. Her intestines were strung out and wrapped around a strange barb wire and pole contraption. The smell was awful and he was reminded momentarily of a very old and painful memory. He reached for the woman's neck, and as his fingers brushed against it, the woman's eyes flashed open. They were dulled and hay from the pain and blood loss, but they came to focus on him. He was even more surprised when the ruin spoke.

"Dr. Lecter, I presume?" the words were barely a whisper, and they sounded strained. He blinked, measuring them.

"Yes. How do you know who I am?"

"She told me you were going to come. Thought it would scare me." a rasp that might have been a laugh escaped her lips. She paused, trying to draw breath as her life bled from her. "I'm not scared, but can I ask you something?"

A moment's pause, then, "Of course."

"I'm not going to beg or plead, just… A favor if you would. She left me here to die, slowly, and it would be much appreciated if you would kindly dispatch me, sir."

Well spoken and articulate even in the cold shadow of death. He stared at the woman. Emily had done this on purpose, to see what he would do. To see if he would take an innocent life. But to leave this woman here to die slowly would be cruel, and it would be kinder, much kinder, to simply end her life after the torture she had obviously received. The thoughts tumbled through his mind and he came on a decision, hand dipping back into his pocket and finding the blade that was always there now.

"Why did she do this?" he didn't realize he had asked the question aloud until the woman's eyes met his.

"For revenge, Doctor."
Hannibal Lecter was motionless for a moment, then the Harpy was across her throat in a flash. "Forgive me." came the tiniest of whispers. He did not look back as he wiped the Harpy and headed for the stairs.

*****