Title: The Two Rings
A crossover story (Based in part on the movie, The Ring.)
This totally departs canon. It is written as a supernatural story just for the fun of it.
Disclaimer: THOMAS HARRIS created Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling. They are used without permission, but are used for entertainment purposes ONLY for readers of fan fiction. Additionally, the character of Samara is the official property of the creators of the Ring. (Jocelyn Eve Taylor is my own character.) No infringement of copyright is intended, and the author, and/or maintainers of this site make no profit, of any kind.
RATING: PG
Summary:
Clarice finally accepts an engagement ring from the Good Doctor while they are vacationing at a small cabin. They find a videotape with no title. Clarice is curious as she pops the tape into the complimentary VCR. Then she and Hannibal watch a most unusual home movie.
PART ONE:
Hannibal had rented the vacation cabin hideaway, for the weekend for he and Clarice (to have some more fun out of life).
Hannibal was in the bathroom, taking his morning bath. Clarice still couldn't believe it, and she was so happy—and finally free of her moral struggles. She switched on the radio in the middle of an old song: RING, RING, TELEPHONE, RING, TALKING ABOUT LOVE, AROUND YOUR PRETTY FINGER. Maybe Clarice should have listened to the ENTIRE lyrics of the song.
Instead, she smiled in glee at the song lyrics, MOST of which were so coincidentally, appropriate. Clarice again admired her beautiful engagement ring Hannibal had given her the night before. What a passionate night of lovemaking that followed; it was the best sex Clarice had ever known.
"Good morning, darling." Clarice said as Hannibal came out of the bathroom. She rushed up to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He smelled so good after his morning bath, and application of deodorant and cologne.
"I love my ring, Hannibal," she purred as she extended her left hand out to admire it once more.
"And I love you, Clarice" he replied. His mouth met hers as they exchanged a very, ardent, intense kiss.
"So what would you like to do today, hmmm?" He asked.
She frowned a bit. "I don't know; it's raining today, so we can't go out for our romantic stroll through the woods right now." Then an idea hit her. "Hey, I found some unmarked videotape. Must have been left behind by past visitors. Do you think it's an amateur porno tape, some past guests made in here?" She giggled.
"I guess there is only one way to find out." Hannibal stated as Clarice put the tape into the VCR.
They sat together on a rather shoddy couch, viewing a short series of bizarre images.
About halfway through the film, Clarice spoke up. "What in the hell is this supposed to be all about?"
He paused to think. As a psychiatrist, he had been trying to analyze this odd collage of footage from the start. "I really can't say," he admitted.
The filmed ended and the phone rang just then. Clarice jumped with a start. "Who would be calling us?" No one in the world knows we're here. What if it's the law?"
Hannibal got up from the couch quickly and answered the phone. "Hello..." he said in his soft, but menacing voice.
Some distorted voice stated: "You only have seven days, then you die."
"Not if I find you first," Hannibal growled. With that, he hung up the phone.
"Who was it?" Clarice asked.
"Just kids, making prank calls. No need for alarm," he assured her with the wave of his hand.
PART TWO:
Later that day after it had stopped raining, Hannibal and Clarice were playfully running about in the woods, taking turns taking each other's photos with Hannibal's very expensive, new, digital camera. Clarice had just taken another one of him posed by a huge tree. She thought it was a good shot, so she checked the display. His face was distorted.
"Hannibal, something's wrong with the display screen. Have a look." She handed him the camera. He scrolled through the 10 photos or so they had already taken of each other. In EVERY picture her or his face was contorted and twisted.
"I paid a handsome amount for this so called state of the art, new camera, and instead all I get is a defective piece of garbage," he said with annoyance.
It sounded like the only plausible explanation but something inside of Clarice wouldn't let her shake off the feeling so easily. She had felt a chill go up her spine at each 10 photos Hannibal had shown her when he reviewed them.
"Hannibal...the movie we saw, the phone call right as the movie ended, and now these photos being all messed up...I know it sounds silly, but I heard this urban legend..."
He looked at her, quite amused.
Clarice went on. "Did the person who called you back at the cabin, say something like, in seven days. In seven days...you die?"
Now Hannibal's amusement left him. "How did you know that's what was said?"
"Because of the urban legend. Oh, God, is that what they said on the phone? For real?"
"Yes, Clarice."
Clarice started breathing harder, scanning the area for anyone who might be watching him or her. Her fright was obvious to Hannibal.
"Calm down, my dear. If this is a so called urban legend, then someone is merely using it as a mind game to play cat and mouse with us," he reasoned rationally.
This made some sense to Clarice. "So you think we've been discovered? Someone knows who we really are?"
"Obviously. But the important thing to remember is not to panic. That is the reaction, whoever is behind this nonsense, most likely the F.B.I is trying to provoke and unnerve us, so we will get sloppy and we lose our heads and make a mistake. We better vacate this cabin at once..." he informed her.
Clarice still wasn't totally convinced there wasn't something more.
PART THREE:
Four days after the incident, they were back at Hannibal's newest residence. Clarice spent night and day researching the urban legend on her computer and with every book she could find with reference to this particular story, which she had purchased the day before. She read in one book, an apocryphal theory was to make a copy of the tape to save yourself and then it would spare you, so long as you were passing on its evil to the world.
This went against every well-grounded, non-superstitious belief she always had held, but the worse that could happen; she reasoned, is she would just look foolish, making such a tape. But better safe than sorry if the legend could just possibly be true.
Clarice set up the VCRs: one to play, one to copy. She silently said a prayer. Then she began to copy the tape. She would beg Hannibal to do the same later. Just as the copying process started, both VCR's counters went wild, though the tapes appeared to be tracking perfectly.
Hannibal walked in at this moment. "What are you doing, Clarice?"
"Copying the movie. One theory said that's the only way. We both have to copy this tape from the cabin, and IT won't come for us then. We've seen the signs and no police or F.B.I. come for us. There is no other logical explanation left."
"I don't believe in the supernatural, God, the Devil. Any of that. I'm a man of reason and science, as you well know."
Blood started trickling from Clarice nose just as Hannibal saw the fly leave the television screen and buzz off into the room. He saw the insect had crossed over into their realm of reality now.
"Oh, dear, Clarice. Your nose. I shall get you a handkerchief. But first..." He strode up to the VCRs and pushed the stop buttons on both machines.
"We HAVE to copy them, or we'll both die! Humor me, if nothing else?" She pleaded.
"No!" he said harshly. He ejected both tapes from the VCRs and threw them to the tile portion of floor. His shoe stomped on both plastic, cassette cases, INCLUDING the original one from the cabin, until the cases cracked into several pieces. He leaned down and then pulled and ripped out the actual videotape from both cassettes, destroying them completely.
"What have you done?" Clarice gasped. "I know I sound crazy, but I truly believe it was our only sliver of hope," she broke down.
"Yes, perhaps it was," he agreed, much to her surprise, after seeing the fly. But I WILL not perpetuate this unspeakable cancer onto others since I cannot control it or choose, who deserves such a punishment. What if it is some innocent, young children, who see the tape the next time? No, it's going to end here, with us." Hannibal still was calm and in control, preparing in his mind for what they would be facing very soon.
Hannibal now sat at the computer and with the books. Clarice put her hand on his shoulder.
"Let me go over all the research you have done, Clarice, and let's what we're really up against."
"In her human form as a little girl, her name was Samara," Clarice told him. "But she's dead now—died years ago."
"A little girl?" he replied dubiously. "How did she die?"
"Her adoptive mother drowned her."
"I see..." Hannibal's brain had already begun to go to work on an idea.
PART FOUR:
Since Hannibal wouldn't allow Clarice to make a copy of the videotape, at the end of the seven days, all the signs had presented themselves, foretelling of their inescapable coming deaths. The TV in Hannibal's living room turned on by itself.
"Well, Clarice...Hannibal said to a very now terrified Clarice. "Isn't that interesting?"
"God, it's coming. It's real!"
"Yes, I'm afraid it is, Clarice." He agreed, ever calm and brave. Hannibal held her as the Demon stepped out of the T.V. screen and materialized in the living room.
Samara had been called many names: It, Creature, Demon, Thing, Beast.
It approached them, revealing Its hideous face as It raised its head of massive, black hair.
Hannibal stepped in front of Clarice and made direct eye contact with the Creature. For the first time ever, the Demon had to struggle to keep its absolute power over Hannibal. Somehow Hannibal was repelling the Beast back a bit.
Hannibal said in voice dripping with its own evil to the Thing "That's all?...You're it? I'm sorry; I'm not very impressed...Samara." And you really need better grooming habits, particularly with that messy hair."
Whether the Thing had understood his words, he really didn't know or care as he picked up the bucket of water, throwing its contents into the Thing's demonic face. Hannibal had prepared: there was also a 55-gallon, drum full of water set up by every television in the house.
Hannibal viciously grasped the Monster's long hair and shoved Its head underwater down inside the barrel. "You drowned once, why not TWICE?" Hannibal shouted as he attempted to hold Its head down under the water, with every fiber of his strength as the Thing was fighting savagely to get free.
Shaking so badly now, Clarice stared at the unbelievable events, unfolding before her eyes.
But this otherworldly Creature was so strong. It pulled It's head up; Hannibal wasn't physically powerfully enough to drown It. The Thing struggled fiercely with Hannibal, sending him flying across the room into the wall. Hannibal's theory about drowning being this Creature's possible weakness had been wrong.
Clarice pumped every bullet from her .45 caliber handgun into the Thing, hitting it with accurately several times in the head and chest until the gun was empty. The Thing wasn't even phased. Clarice felt herself overwhelmed with intense chest pains; It was killing her.
Hannibal recovered and sprang back into action, flying directly at this Monster.
Finally, the TWO Monsters eyes locked in the ultimate battle of wills and control; Hannibal's eyes grew a very dark, maroon-blood red.
"You may be bad...But I am far worse!" Hannibal decreed as he plunged his harpy into the unholy Thing's heart. "Now go to hell, where you belong!"
The horrific image melted away and Hannibal stood there alive, well and victorious, smiling at Clarice.
PART FIVE:
Since Samara cannot ever really be destroyed, Hannibal had only caused It to retreat to a plane of existence where the Thing normally dwelled, between its supernatural killings. The Creature decided not to go back for a second attack on Hannibal and Clarice, or try to fill their minds with horrific, insane images. Somehow, Samara knew Hannibal's mind was already full of them. This was the first time the Thing was even driven into a retreat and failed in its mission to terrify and kill anyone who had previously watched the tape.
Samara had one more name on Its list of someone else to destroy, the following week, who had also watched the tape, exactly seven days after Hannibal and Clarice had. Now the Demon reveled in the desire of scaring this woman to death---a woman, who lived alone.
And the next week, Samara began the attack on Its subsequent victim.
The intended female victim, sat on the chair in her study, reading over some files, filled with certain information she had been familiarizing herself with. The TV in the study began to glow as it was coming to life all on its own. And it was. Samara stepped out from the large television screen, and saw the woman, with tons of research material on her desk. This woman wore mirrored sunglasses in the house for some reason. As the Demon's usual ritual, It approached, raising the long, black hair from Its face to reveal Its inhuman features. Samara knew it had the woman, until--- -BLAST, the woman fired a 12-gauge shotgun into Samara's head, then reloaded the gun and shot the TV to pieces of obliteration. Now the Demon couldn't retreat into the television set.
Samara couldn't be destroyed, but It would even more ugly now after a shotgun blast to It's face. The Creature jumped at the woman, trying to kill her with Its eyes as It had always killed. But the mirrored sunglasses, forced the Creature to see Its own reflection, instead, driving It backward in howling pain.
"Leave my house," the woman's fearless, strong and calm voice ordered.
The Creature, Samara, had never spoken to any of Its victims, face to face, when It came for them, but now the Creature asked in a voice that was raspy and distorted. "Who are you? What are you?"
The woman offered. "I thought you already knew my name since you were coming for me. But maybe names mean nothing to you. I am Jocelyn Eve Taylor...In your case...I am Eve of YOUR destruction.
The Creature couldn't bear the agony of Its own reflection and powers directed back at It in the mirrored sunglasses Eve wore. Like with Hannibal, the Monster was forced to leave and vanished from the room.
EPIOLOG:
Back in Its own plane of existence. Samara couldn't believe it: TWO failures in two weeks? These were the only survivors out of every one It had ever attacked for decades. This Demon had NEVER failed before. Samara realized It had encountered TWO beings, who possessed some very special gifts of their own—Hannibal and Eve.
THE END
A crossover story (Based in part on the movie, The Ring.)
This totally departs canon. It is written as a supernatural story just for the fun of it.
Disclaimer: THOMAS HARRIS created Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling. They are used without permission, but are used for entertainment purposes ONLY for readers of fan fiction. Additionally, the character of Samara is the official property of the creators of the Ring. (Jocelyn Eve Taylor is my own character.) No infringement of copyright is intended, and the author, and/or maintainers of this site make no profit, of any kind.
RATING: PG
Summary:
Clarice finally accepts an engagement ring from the Good Doctor while they are vacationing at a small cabin. They find a videotape with no title. Clarice is curious as she pops the tape into the complimentary VCR. Then she and Hannibal watch a most unusual home movie.
PART ONE:
Hannibal had rented the vacation cabin hideaway, for the weekend for he and Clarice (to have some more fun out of life).
Hannibal was in the bathroom, taking his morning bath. Clarice still couldn't believe it, and she was so happy—and finally free of her moral struggles. She switched on the radio in the middle of an old song: RING, RING, TELEPHONE, RING, TALKING ABOUT LOVE, AROUND YOUR PRETTY FINGER. Maybe Clarice should have listened to the ENTIRE lyrics of the song.
Instead, she smiled in glee at the song lyrics, MOST of which were so coincidentally, appropriate. Clarice again admired her beautiful engagement ring Hannibal had given her the night before. What a passionate night of lovemaking that followed; it was the best sex Clarice had ever known.
"Good morning, darling." Clarice said as Hannibal came out of the bathroom. She rushed up to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He smelled so good after his morning bath, and application of deodorant and cologne.
"I love my ring, Hannibal," she purred as she extended her left hand out to admire it once more.
"And I love you, Clarice" he replied. His mouth met hers as they exchanged a very, ardent, intense kiss.
"So what would you like to do today, hmmm?" He asked.
She frowned a bit. "I don't know; it's raining today, so we can't go out for our romantic stroll through the woods right now." Then an idea hit her. "Hey, I found some unmarked videotape. Must have been left behind by past visitors. Do you think it's an amateur porno tape, some past guests made in here?" She giggled.
"I guess there is only one way to find out." Hannibal stated as Clarice put the tape into the VCR.
They sat together on a rather shoddy couch, viewing a short series of bizarre images.
About halfway through the film, Clarice spoke up. "What in the hell is this supposed to be all about?"
He paused to think. As a psychiatrist, he had been trying to analyze this odd collage of footage from the start. "I really can't say," he admitted.
The filmed ended and the phone rang just then. Clarice jumped with a start. "Who would be calling us?" No one in the world knows we're here. What if it's the law?"
Hannibal got up from the couch quickly and answered the phone. "Hello..." he said in his soft, but menacing voice.
Some distorted voice stated: "You only have seven days, then you die."
"Not if I find you first," Hannibal growled. With that, he hung up the phone.
"Who was it?" Clarice asked.
"Just kids, making prank calls. No need for alarm," he assured her with the wave of his hand.
PART TWO:
Later that day after it had stopped raining, Hannibal and Clarice were playfully running about in the woods, taking turns taking each other's photos with Hannibal's very expensive, new, digital camera. Clarice had just taken another one of him posed by a huge tree. She thought it was a good shot, so she checked the display. His face was distorted.
"Hannibal, something's wrong with the display screen. Have a look." She handed him the camera. He scrolled through the 10 photos or so they had already taken of each other. In EVERY picture her or his face was contorted and twisted.
"I paid a handsome amount for this so called state of the art, new camera, and instead all I get is a defective piece of garbage," he said with annoyance.
It sounded like the only plausible explanation but something inside of Clarice wouldn't let her shake off the feeling so easily. She had felt a chill go up her spine at each 10 photos Hannibal had shown her when he reviewed them.
"Hannibal...the movie we saw, the phone call right as the movie ended, and now these photos being all messed up...I know it sounds silly, but I heard this urban legend..."
He looked at her, quite amused.
Clarice went on. "Did the person who called you back at the cabin, say something like, in seven days. In seven days...you die?"
Now Hannibal's amusement left him. "How did you know that's what was said?"
"Because of the urban legend. Oh, God, is that what they said on the phone? For real?"
"Yes, Clarice."
Clarice started breathing harder, scanning the area for anyone who might be watching him or her. Her fright was obvious to Hannibal.
"Calm down, my dear. If this is a so called urban legend, then someone is merely using it as a mind game to play cat and mouse with us," he reasoned rationally.
This made some sense to Clarice. "So you think we've been discovered? Someone knows who we really are?"
"Obviously. But the important thing to remember is not to panic. That is the reaction, whoever is behind this nonsense, most likely the F.B.I is trying to provoke and unnerve us, so we will get sloppy and we lose our heads and make a mistake. We better vacate this cabin at once..." he informed her.
Clarice still wasn't totally convinced there wasn't something more.
PART THREE:
Four days after the incident, they were back at Hannibal's newest residence. Clarice spent night and day researching the urban legend on her computer and with every book she could find with reference to this particular story, which she had purchased the day before. She read in one book, an apocryphal theory was to make a copy of the tape to save yourself and then it would spare you, so long as you were passing on its evil to the world.
This went against every well-grounded, non-superstitious belief she always had held, but the worse that could happen; she reasoned, is she would just look foolish, making such a tape. But better safe than sorry if the legend could just possibly be true.
Clarice set up the VCRs: one to play, one to copy. She silently said a prayer. Then she began to copy the tape. She would beg Hannibal to do the same later. Just as the copying process started, both VCR's counters went wild, though the tapes appeared to be tracking perfectly.
Hannibal walked in at this moment. "What are you doing, Clarice?"
"Copying the movie. One theory said that's the only way. We both have to copy this tape from the cabin, and IT won't come for us then. We've seen the signs and no police or F.B.I. come for us. There is no other logical explanation left."
"I don't believe in the supernatural, God, the Devil. Any of that. I'm a man of reason and science, as you well know."
Blood started trickling from Clarice nose just as Hannibal saw the fly leave the television screen and buzz off into the room. He saw the insect had crossed over into their realm of reality now.
"Oh, dear, Clarice. Your nose. I shall get you a handkerchief. But first..." He strode up to the VCRs and pushed the stop buttons on both machines.
"We HAVE to copy them, or we'll both die! Humor me, if nothing else?" She pleaded.
"No!" he said harshly. He ejected both tapes from the VCRs and threw them to the tile portion of floor. His shoe stomped on both plastic, cassette cases, INCLUDING the original one from the cabin, until the cases cracked into several pieces. He leaned down and then pulled and ripped out the actual videotape from both cassettes, destroying them completely.
"What have you done?" Clarice gasped. "I know I sound crazy, but I truly believe it was our only sliver of hope," she broke down.
"Yes, perhaps it was," he agreed, much to her surprise, after seeing the fly. But I WILL not perpetuate this unspeakable cancer onto others since I cannot control it or choose, who deserves such a punishment. What if it is some innocent, young children, who see the tape the next time? No, it's going to end here, with us." Hannibal still was calm and in control, preparing in his mind for what they would be facing very soon.
Hannibal now sat at the computer and with the books. Clarice put her hand on his shoulder.
"Let me go over all the research you have done, Clarice, and let's what we're really up against."
"In her human form as a little girl, her name was Samara," Clarice told him. "But she's dead now—died years ago."
"A little girl?" he replied dubiously. "How did she die?"
"Her adoptive mother drowned her."
"I see..." Hannibal's brain had already begun to go to work on an idea.
PART FOUR:
Since Hannibal wouldn't allow Clarice to make a copy of the videotape, at the end of the seven days, all the signs had presented themselves, foretelling of their inescapable coming deaths. The TV in Hannibal's living room turned on by itself.
"Well, Clarice...Hannibal said to a very now terrified Clarice. "Isn't that interesting?"
"God, it's coming. It's real!"
"Yes, I'm afraid it is, Clarice." He agreed, ever calm and brave. Hannibal held her as the Demon stepped out of the T.V. screen and materialized in the living room.
Samara had been called many names: It, Creature, Demon, Thing, Beast.
It approached them, revealing Its hideous face as It raised its head of massive, black hair.
Hannibal stepped in front of Clarice and made direct eye contact with the Creature. For the first time ever, the Demon had to struggle to keep its absolute power over Hannibal. Somehow Hannibal was repelling the Beast back a bit.
Hannibal said in voice dripping with its own evil to the Thing "That's all?...You're it? I'm sorry; I'm not very impressed...Samara." And you really need better grooming habits, particularly with that messy hair."
Whether the Thing had understood his words, he really didn't know or care as he picked up the bucket of water, throwing its contents into the Thing's demonic face. Hannibal had prepared: there was also a 55-gallon, drum full of water set up by every television in the house.
Hannibal viciously grasped the Monster's long hair and shoved Its head underwater down inside the barrel. "You drowned once, why not TWICE?" Hannibal shouted as he attempted to hold Its head down under the water, with every fiber of his strength as the Thing was fighting savagely to get free.
Shaking so badly now, Clarice stared at the unbelievable events, unfolding before her eyes.
But this otherworldly Creature was so strong. It pulled It's head up; Hannibal wasn't physically powerfully enough to drown It. The Thing struggled fiercely with Hannibal, sending him flying across the room into the wall. Hannibal's theory about drowning being this Creature's possible weakness had been wrong.
Clarice pumped every bullet from her .45 caliber handgun into the Thing, hitting it with accurately several times in the head and chest until the gun was empty. The Thing wasn't even phased. Clarice felt herself overwhelmed with intense chest pains; It was killing her.
Hannibal recovered and sprang back into action, flying directly at this Monster.
Finally, the TWO Monsters eyes locked in the ultimate battle of wills and control; Hannibal's eyes grew a very dark, maroon-blood red.
"You may be bad...But I am far worse!" Hannibal decreed as he plunged his harpy into the unholy Thing's heart. "Now go to hell, where you belong!"
The horrific image melted away and Hannibal stood there alive, well and victorious, smiling at Clarice.
PART FIVE:
Since Samara cannot ever really be destroyed, Hannibal had only caused It to retreat to a plane of existence where the Thing normally dwelled, between its supernatural killings. The Creature decided not to go back for a second attack on Hannibal and Clarice, or try to fill their minds with horrific, insane images. Somehow, Samara knew Hannibal's mind was already full of them. This was the first time the Thing was even driven into a retreat and failed in its mission to terrify and kill anyone who had previously watched the tape.
Samara had one more name on Its list of someone else to destroy, the following week, who had also watched the tape, exactly seven days after Hannibal and Clarice had. Now the Demon reveled in the desire of scaring this woman to death---a woman, who lived alone.
And the next week, Samara began the attack on Its subsequent victim.
The intended female victim, sat on the chair in her study, reading over some files, filled with certain information she had been familiarizing herself with. The TV in the study began to glow as it was coming to life all on its own. And it was. Samara stepped out from the large television screen, and saw the woman, with tons of research material on her desk. This woman wore mirrored sunglasses in the house for some reason. As the Demon's usual ritual, It approached, raising the long, black hair from Its face to reveal Its inhuman features. Samara knew it had the woman, until--- -BLAST, the woman fired a 12-gauge shotgun into Samara's head, then reloaded the gun and shot the TV to pieces of obliteration. Now the Demon couldn't retreat into the television set.
Samara couldn't be destroyed, but It would even more ugly now after a shotgun blast to It's face. The Creature jumped at the woman, trying to kill her with Its eyes as It had always killed. But the mirrored sunglasses, forced the Creature to see Its own reflection, instead, driving It backward in howling pain.
"Leave my house," the woman's fearless, strong and calm voice ordered.
The Creature, Samara, had never spoken to any of Its victims, face to face, when It came for them, but now the Creature asked in a voice that was raspy and distorted. "Who are you? What are you?"
The woman offered. "I thought you already knew my name since you were coming for me. But maybe names mean nothing to you. I am Jocelyn Eve Taylor...In your case...I am Eve of YOUR destruction.
The Creature couldn't bear the agony of Its own reflection and powers directed back at It in the mirrored sunglasses Eve wore. Like with Hannibal, the Monster was forced to leave and vanished from the room.
EPIOLOG:
Back in Its own plane of existence. Samara couldn't believe it: TWO failures in two weeks? These were the only survivors out of every one It had ever attacked for decades. This Demon had NEVER failed before. Samara realized It had encountered TWO beings, who possessed some very special gifts of their own—Hannibal and Eve.
THE END