Disclaimer: The
characters of Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling and Barney (plus
anyone you may recognize) belong to Thomas Harris, not to me. But they
are so great I couldn't resist borrowing them for a while. I will turn
them back when I've finished. No copyright
infringement intended. No profit. I'm harmless and broke ... So don't
sue me.
Chapter 5
The frontier between sleep and this extreme state of retreat into his conscience that Hannibal Lecter could achieve was very thin. At least as seen from the outside. Inside instead the difference was huge.
Hannibal had become a master in controlling his emotions. In his waking state, he was always very careful to avoid the dark rooms of his memory palace and not many living human beings could testify they had seen him loose the control of himself. But when sleep grabbed him, the ghosts of his past were materializing in the most terrifying and violent nightmares one could imagine.
His eyes were closed but his body was everything but quiet. Sweat was running down his temples and soaking his shirt, and he was mumbling incomprehensible words.
It was cold, so cold in this barn. Most of the people were lying on the floor, curled in a fetal position, trying to warm each others. Faces he had known his whole life. Servants who had been in the service of his family generation after generation ... and their family. The children were crying, clinging to their mother' s dresses.
Young Hannibal Lecter was not crying though. He was sitting very straight, holding in his lap the most precious treasure he had left, trying to warm up little Mischa, as if he could blow his own life in her little body. Mischa was not crying either. She was pressing her head on her brother' s chest and was softly singing. Although her voice was hardly audible, Hannibal had recognized the lullaby their mother was singing to put them to sleep.
His mother would not sing anymore now.
He hold Mischa closer, as if it could ward off the image of his parents. Mischa put her hand on his shoulder and started to stroke him gently. Hannibal closed his eyes. His sister had always had a skill with people. Even if she was only two, she just had to look at someone to feel his distress. "Andra tutto bene, tesoro. Non ti preoccupare." he whispered, "Everything's gonna be all right".
He did not have time to add anything as the door of the barn flung opened. His whole body tensed up with the feeling of danger. He stared at the door and saw them come in. There were three of them. Their clothes did not look like uniforms anymore. They were drunk and the first one almost fell to the floor when passing the doorstep. One of the men said something to his companions but Hannibal was too far to understand. The other two burst out laughing.
The inhabitants of the barn instinctively retreated against the walls, as if they could become invisible to their visitors. Hannibal felt the body of Mischa slightly tense up. She raised her face to him and what he read in her once beautiful baby eyes scared him to death. She did not utter a single word. She did not have to. They both knew. What was in the look of the two children was a farewell between a brother and a sister who sensed it was the last time they would see each other. Their eyes were feverish but dry. Not one tear was shed.
The three men went forward looking at their preys. The older one kicked an old woman in the back and the other two laughed loudly. They were getting closer now. Hannibal recognized the man who had killed his father. The deserter looked at him and stopped. Hannibal read anger and hate in his eyes, and for the fraction of a second he also saw fear.
"Why are you looking at me like this ?" he barked. The young boy bent his head in sign of submission, in a desperate attempt to escape fate. But the man walked to him and grabbed the child' s hair. He forced Hannibal to look at him. "I asked you a question." he shouted, getting the attention of the others, "There's something with me you don't like ? You, son of a bitch ...".
Mischa' s little nails were now staved so deeply in his brother's back than when the soldier lifted her by the arm, Hannibal felt his flesh tear and warm blood show on the surface of his skin.
The little girl was hanging in the air, her right arm imprisoned in the man' s large hand. But she was still staring at her brother. No fear in her eyes. Hannibal stood up and tried to reach her but another soldier who had joined them threw him back on the floor as easily as he would have swept away a fly. The three men chuckled. "Was willst du machen, kleinstes Ferkel ?" And they laughed louder.
Hannibal was petrified. His mouth stayed ridiculously opened but no sound could pass his lips. He was watching the men take away her sister and his muscles were refusing to obey.
As the three deserters were half their way to the door, a young woman Hannibal had not noticed before stood up and intervened. She was not very tall but despite starvation she looked strong and determined. "Children ! That's all you're able to fight, you dirty pigs !" she shouted. "Why don't you try to confront with someone your size ?" Her eyes were shining with fury.
The young Hannibal was certain he had never seen this woman before. But his lips involuntarily formed a word. "Clarice ..." he whispered. He had no idea why but he knew it was her name.
The woman was raging and apparently ignored fear. She rushed on the man that was still holding the child and tried to pull Mischa out of his grip. The man tried to throw her away with his free arm but did not succeed. One of his companion came to his help and grabbed the woman' s shoulder, trying to pull her out. But in the twinkling of an eye she threw her feet between his legs and he had to retreat, howling with pain.
The struggle was harsh but lasted less than a minute. Finally the three men combined their efforts and the young woman hit the floor. One of the men put his boot on her face and maintained her on the floor. She didn't move but Hannibal could still see the flames of rage coming out of her eyes.
The boy was till staring at the woman on the floor when the voice of his sister suddenly startled him and made him shiver. He raised his face.
Mischa was in the arms of the soldier now and she was staring at him. "Hannibal ?" she said. Her voice was as clear as water running from a spring. There was no fear in it, only lack of understanding ... and disappointment. Hannibal felt as if a vise was hugging his heart. The world around the two children had frozen, time suspended. The pure voice of Mischa rose in the surrounding silence. "Hannibal, save me ! Why don't you try to save me ? You said you loved me ...". The pain in the little boy's chest was intolerable. He felt his body was about to explode, but yet he was not able to speak a single word. "You said you would protect me, always. Was it a lie ?" the little girl went on. "They are taking me away, Hannibal ... For ever ... And you don't move. You did not try anything to stop them. Clarice tried. She stood up and tried to save me. But you, you remain there and you watch and you don't even try ... You were right when you said Clarice was brave and just. She is someone you can rely upon. I thought you were too ... Don't you want to save me ? Don't you love me ?"
The muffled rumbling started from the deepest part of his guts and rose through his whole body until it finally invaded his lungs and throat and came to his mouth. And he started to howl ...
The door slammed and the handle hit the wall. Hannibal jumped in his bed, his eyes wide opened, still full of the image of his sister calling for help. His breathing was suspended and he had to force himself to let air enter his lungs. He turned at the door.
The man was standing in the doorstep looking at him. Hannibal saw he was not alone but could merely distinguish vague shapes. "Lunch time !" the man barked at him. "This is all you're gonna have for today, so you'd better savor every bit of it." Hannibal saw the man put what looked at a tray on the floor and push it to the bed with his foot. Then he got away from the door and got closer to the bed.
"I am going to detach you. But my friend here will keep an eye on you." He indicated the man that had stayed outside the room. Hannibal could not see his face but he clearly distinguished the barrel of a gun pointed at him. Once the one who seemed to be the boss got certain his hostage had understood the point, he went on: "It is pointed at your head, and will remain like that. So ... I recommend you stay quiet and don't try your chance, right ?"
"Understood." Hannibal answered. The man approached the bed and took a knife out of his pocket. He moved quietly around Hannibal but took care never to find himself between Hannibal' s head and the gun. Hannibal appreciated the way he was manipulating his knife. And he was a connoisseur ... It took him only a few seconds to cut all the bonds.
The second after he was gone and the door was closed, putting back the room in half light.
Hannibal laid back on the bed but did not close his eyes. The last thing he wished for was to fall asleep again. He remained like that for five minutes, staring at the ceiling and breathing deeply to try to stop his body from shaking. After a while, his eyes got used to darkness and he managed to calm down. His whole body was wet with sweat and the cold air was making him shiver. But he did not care.
Recollections of his nightmare started to come back to him. It was not the first time he had dreamt of that day ... the last day of his sister. And it would probably not be the last one either. But it was certainly the first time Clarice was in this dream ...
As tension slowly melt away, incredulity replaced it. It had been some time since he had not dreamt of Clarice Starling. And every time he had in the past, these were always pleasant dreams ... even if the waking up was a bit crude. Why was she appearing to him now ? And why in such a nightmare ? Hannibal thought of it for a few minutes but did not come to any explanation.
As sadness was threatening to overcome him, he shook himself and decided he would figure this out later. He glanced at the tray the man had left. He could not see what was on it but did not expect much. Well, he smiled, his own standards in terms of cooking might be a little bit too high for this place.
He thoughtlessly moved to his side to try to reach the tray, but the sudden pain in his injured leg harshly brought him back to reality. He grinned and took a few deep breaths. When he had recovered a bit, he carefully moved his arm to the tray, trying to move the rest of his body as less as possible. The operation took him about ten minutes but the pain remained bearable.
When he finally had the plate in front of him, he almost regretted his efforts. Just the smell of it was giving him nausea. But he had to regain some strength, so he began to eat.
To be continued ... Thanks for reading. Reviews are as usual MOST welcome ...
Absolut.
Chapter 5
The frontier between sleep and this extreme state of retreat into his conscience that Hannibal Lecter could achieve was very thin. At least as seen from the outside. Inside instead the difference was huge.
Hannibal had become a master in controlling his emotions. In his waking state, he was always very careful to avoid the dark rooms of his memory palace and not many living human beings could testify they had seen him loose the control of himself. But when sleep grabbed him, the ghosts of his past were materializing in the most terrifying and violent nightmares one could imagine.
His eyes were closed but his body was everything but quiet. Sweat was running down his temples and soaking his shirt, and he was mumbling incomprehensible words.
It was cold, so cold in this barn. Most of the people were lying on the floor, curled in a fetal position, trying to warm each others. Faces he had known his whole life. Servants who had been in the service of his family generation after generation ... and their family. The children were crying, clinging to their mother' s dresses.
Young Hannibal Lecter was not crying though. He was sitting very straight, holding in his lap the most precious treasure he had left, trying to warm up little Mischa, as if he could blow his own life in her little body. Mischa was not crying either. She was pressing her head on her brother' s chest and was softly singing. Although her voice was hardly audible, Hannibal had recognized the lullaby their mother was singing to put them to sleep.
His mother would not sing anymore now.
He hold Mischa closer, as if it could ward off the image of his parents. Mischa put her hand on his shoulder and started to stroke him gently. Hannibal closed his eyes. His sister had always had a skill with people. Even if she was only two, she just had to look at someone to feel his distress. "Andra tutto bene, tesoro. Non ti preoccupare." he whispered, "Everything's gonna be all right".
He did not have time to add anything as the door of the barn flung opened. His whole body tensed up with the feeling of danger. He stared at the door and saw them come in. There were three of them. Their clothes did not look like uniforms anymore. They were drunk and the first one almost fell to the floor when passing the doorstep. One of the men said something to his companions but Hannibal was too far to understand. The other two burst out laughing.
The inhabitants of the barn instinctively retreated against the walls, as if they could become invisible to their visitors. Hannibal felt the body of Mischa slightly tense up. She raised her face to him and what he read in her once beautiful baby eyes scared him to death. She did not utter a single word. She did not have to. They both knew. What was in the look of the two children was a farewell between a brother and a sister who sensed it was the last time they would see each other. Their eyes were feverish but dry. Not one tear was shed.
The three men went forward looking at their preys. The older one kicked an old woman in the back and the other two laughed loudly. They were getting closer now. Hannibal recognized the man who had killed his father. The deserter looked at him and stopped. Hannibal read anger and hate in his eyes, and for the fraction of a second he also saw fear.
"Why are you looking at me like this ?" he barked. The young boy bent his head in sign of submission, in a desperate attempt to escape fate. But the man walked to him and grabbed the child' s hair. He forced Hannibal to look at him. "I asked you a question." he shouted, getting the attention of the others, "There's something with me you don't like ? You, son of a bitch ...".
Mischa' s little nails were now staved so deeply in his brother's back than when the soldier lifted her by the arm, Hannibal felt his flesh tear and warm blood show on the surface of his skin.
The little girl was hanging in the air, her right arm imprisoned in the man' s large hand. But she was still staring at her brother. No fear in her eyes. Hannibal stood up and tried to reach her but another soldier who had joined them threw him back on the floor as easily as he would have swept away a fly. The three men chuckled. "Was willst du machen, kleinstes Ferkel ?" And they laughed louder.
Hannibal was petrified. His mouth stayed ridiculously opened but no sound could pass his lips. He was watching the men take away her sister and his muscles were refusing to obey.
As the three deserters were half their way to the door, a young woman Hannibal had not noticed before stood up and intervened. She was not very tall but despite starvation she looked strong and determined. "Children ! That's all you're able to fight, you dirty pigs !" she shouted. "Why don't you try to confront with someone your size ?" Her eyes were shining with fury.
The young Hannibal was certain he had never seen this woman before. But his lips involuntarily formed a word. "Clarice ..." he whispered. He had no idea why but he knew it was her name.
The woman was raging and apparently ignored fear. She rushed on the man that was still holding the child and tried to pull Mischa out of his grip. The man tried to throw her away with his free arm but did not succeed. One of his companion came to his help and grabbed the woman' s shoulder, trying to pull her out. But in the twinkling of an eye she threw her feet between his legs and he had to retreat, howling with pain.
The struggle was harsh but lasted less than a minute. Finally the three men combined their efforts and the young woman hit the floor. One of the men put his boot on her face and maintained her on the floor. She didn't move but Hannibal could still see the flames of rage coming out of her eyes.
The boy was till staring at the woman on the floor when the voice of his sister suddenly startled him and made him shiver. He raised his face.
Mischa was in the arms of the soldier now and she was staring at him. "Hannibal ?" she said. Her voice was as clear as water running from a spring. There was no fear in it, only lack of understanding ... and disappointment. Hannibal felt as if a vise was hugging his heart. The world around the two children had frozen, time suspended. The pure voice of Mischa rose in the surrounding silence. "Hannibal, save me ! Why don't you try to save me ? You said you loved me ...". The pain in the little boy's chest was intolerable. He felt his body was about to explode, but yet he was not able to speak a single word. "You said you would protect me, always. Was it a lie ?" the little girl went on. "They are taking me away, Hannibal ... For ever ... And you don't move. You did not try anything to stop them. Clarice tried. She stood up and tried to save me. But you, you remain there and you watch and you don't even try ... You were right when you said Clarice was brave and just. She is someone you can rely upon. I thought you were too ... Don't you want to save me ? Don't you love me ?"
The muffled rumbling started from the deepest part of his guts and rose through his whole body until it finally invaded his lungs and throat and came to his mouth. And he started to howl ...
The door slammed and the handle hit the wall. Hannibal jumped in his bed, his eyes wide opened, still full of the image of his sister calling for help. His breathing was suspended and he had to force himself to let air enter his lungs. He turned at the door.
The man was standing in the doorstep looking at him. Hannibal saw he was not alone but could merely distinguish vague shapes. "Lunch time !" the man barked at him. "This is all you're gonna have for today, so you'd better savor every bit of it." Hannibal saw the man put what looked at a tray on the floor and push it to the bed with his foot. Then he got away from the door and got closer to the bed.
"I am going to detach you. But my friend here will keep an eye on you." He indicated the man that had stayed outside the room. Hannibal could not see his face but he clearly distinguished the barrel of a gun pointed at him. Once the one who seemed to be the boss got certain his hostage had understood the point, he went on: "It is pointed at your head, and will remain like that. So ... I recommend you stay quiet and don't try your chance, right ?"
"Understood." Hannibal answered. The man approached the bed and took a knife out of his pocket. He moved quietly around Hannibal but took care never to find himself between Hannibal' s head and the gun. Hannibal appreciated the way he was manipulating his knife. And he was a connoisseur ... It took him only a few seconds to cut all the bonds.
The second after he was gone and the door was closed, putting back the room in half light.
Hannibal laid back on the bed but did not close his eyes. The last thing he wished for was to fall asleep again. He remained like that for five minutes, staring at the ceiling and breathing deeply to try to stop his body from shaking. After a while, his eyes got used to darkness and he managed to calm down. His whole body was wet with sweat and the cold air was making him shiver. But he did not care.
Recollections of his nightmare started to come back to him. It was not the first time he had dreamt of that day ... the last day of his sister. And it would probably not be the last one either. But it was certainly the first time Clarice was in this dream ...
As tension slowly melt away, incredulity replaced it. It had been some time since he had not dreamt of Clarice Starling. And every time he had in the past, these were always pleasant dreams ... even if the waking up was a bit crude. Why was she appearing to him now ? And why in such a nightmare ? Hannibal thought of it for a few minutes but did not come to any explanation.
As sadness was threatening to overcome him, he shook himself and decided he would figure this out later. He glanced at the tray the man had left. He could not see what was on it but did not expect much. Well, he smiled, his own standards in terms of cooking might be a little bit too high for this place.
He thoughtlessly moved to his side to try to reach the tray, but the sudden pain in his injured leg harshly brought him back to reality. He grinned and took a few deep breaths. When he had recovered a bit, he carefully moved his arm to the tray, trying to move the rest of his body as less as possible. The operation took him about ten minutes but the pain remained bearable.
When he finally had the plate in front of him, he almost regretted his efforts. Just the smell of it was giving him nausea. But he had to regain some strength, so he began to eat.
To be continued ... Thanks for reading. Reviews are as usual MOST welcome ...
Absolut.