There was a pregnant quiet between the sisters in the backseat as they drove down the driveway to their childhood home.
Amelia looked at Abigail; her eyes were distant as the house came into view, the word "cannibals"written in large black letters on the garage door.
"Did I… miss something?," Amelia said, gobsmacked.
"Well… uh…," Will trailed.
"Dad ate the people he killed," Abigail shrugged as if she were talking about Garrett eating an apple. "You didn't know?"
"Um, not exactly. What the actual f-"
Abigail grasped Amelia's hand firmly as they stepped out onto the blacktop, a large stain on the stoop, no doubt that it's where her mother bled out.
"Is this where my mom died?," Abigail asked.
"Yes," Will answered her.
"I expected a chalk outline."
"They only do that if you're still alive and taken to a hospital before investigators arrive," he explained.
Amelia could feel tears begin to well in her eyes, rolling them back slightly to prevent them from leaking out.
Hannibal observed her quietly, walking up next to her.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, thank you, Hannibal," was her brief reply before giving him a tight smile.
He gently placed his hand on her lower back as they stepped foot into the house following Will and Abigail.
Abigail was looking around the house, processing that their home was now a crime scene, boxed labeled "evidence" littering every room.
"Why are the photos on the refrigerator turned around?"
"Crime scene cleaners do that."
"They did a good job," Abigail said indifferently. "Is this where all of my blood was?"
"... Yes," Will replied softly.
"And… this is where my dad died," she said matter-of-factly, gesturing to the corner adjacent to them. "Why did he attack his own family?"
"His attack was desperate. He knew he was out of time. Someone called and tipped him off."
"The man on the phone"
"Exactly. It was a blocked call. Did you recognize his voice?"
"No, I never heard it before."
Amelia looked between them then at Hannibal. He looked tense, yet… proud, maybe?
Odd, she thought.
"Did he meet anyone recently? Maybe a new work friend?," Amelia prompted.
She looked contemplative.
"... We suspect he may have been contacted by another killer. The copycat," Will sounded in.
"The one that's still out there?"
Will nodded.
They left the conversation there and started going through boxes, Abigail gathering up her possessions. She looked through a pile of pictures of her and Garrett.
"Is craziness contagious?," Abigail asked worriedly.
"One can not be delusional if the belief in question is accepted as ordinary by others in that person's culture or subculture. Or family," Hannibal explained.
"He didn't seem delusional. He was a perfectionist. After he skinned a deer, he would pluck the loose hair. Most people use a torch. He would remove all the hair by hand. He wanted to make sure he got every one of them," Amelia sounded off.
"He left almost no evidence," Will said quietly.
"Is that why you let me come back? To find evidence?," Abigail said with an accusatory tone.
"It was one of many considerations," Hannibal replied.
"Are we going to re-enact the crime?," she asked, turning to Will and Amelia. "You be my dad. You be mom." She turns to Hannibal. "And you be the man on the phone."
Hannibal looked uneasy, but went about gathering up boxes into the living room.
"You needed to come home to move on," Amelia consoled her sister.
Abigail seemed to be getting frustrated.
"You're never going to find those girls, you know."
"What makes you say that," Will questioned her.
"He'd honor every part of them. Made plumbers putty out of elk bones. At least that's what he told us. You know, to seal threads. Whatever bones were left of those girls is probably holding pipes together," Abigail explained to them cryptically.
"Where did he make this putty?," Hannibal asked.
"At the hunting cabin."
A tense, awkward silence hung in the air until someone walked into the room; Marissa Schur, one of Abigail's friends from school.
"Hey, Abigail."
"Hi."
"Why don't we take a break?," Amelia suggested.
Everyone was in agreement. Abigail and Marissa walked outside while Amelia, Hannibal, and Will remained inside, Amelia going through boxes that came from her old bedroom.
As she dug through her knickknacks, she came across a picture of her mom and her with Abigail as a baby. Louise had an arm wrapped around Amelia while she was holding a newborn Abigail on a pillow on Louise's hospital bed.
Will was standing in the doorway, watching her with curiosity, while Hannibal walked by occasionally, discreetly stealing glances at her in passing.
She pulled out another photo, looking at it coldly for a moment before tearing it to pieces and throwing it over her shoulder.
Will picked up the pieces and fit them together in his hand; it was a picture of Garrett and Amelia on his and Louise's wedding day. He was picking her up and hugging her, both with big smiles on their faces.
"I take it you and Garrett didn't always have a strained relationship," Will subtly asked.
"No… not always. I noticed we started drifting apart when I was about ten, so a couple years after they got married."
"Do you remember the changes in behavior he had that led to that?"
"Small things; he started getting short with me over minor things; he treated me like I was supposed to be a fully-functioning adult by the time Abigail was born. I noticed my mom started getting more and more frustrated and hostile towards him also."
"Did he ever get violent with either of you?"
"I wouldn't say violent, but he did get physical a couple of times that I remember. One time I was helping him make a cake and took a small swipe of icing off the frosting knife and apparently something triggered him to where he felt the need to slap me across the face. No apology, no explanation; he just acted like it never happened. Even after my mom yelled at him."
"Do you think he resented you?"
"Possibly. I think he did but he didn't want to admit it."
Their conversation was interrupted by yelling in the backyard. Amelia looked out the window and saw a boy standing in front of Abigail and Marissa having a heated exchange with them.
"Ah, shit," Amelia muttered, jogging past Will.
Will and Hannibal followed her outside, where they saw a boy who was throwing accusations at Abigail about her helping Garrett kill his sister.
"I know you did it! Everyone knows!"
"Piss off!," Marissa exclaimed, throwing a rock at his head.
She knicked his forehead, a small trail of blood trickling down his face.
"This isn't over," he sneered as he slunk off into the woods.
"Abby," Amelia called, holding her arms out to her. "Did he hurt you, honey? Are you okay,"
"I'm fine, Amy."
"Marissa! Come home," demanded her mom.
"No."
"Come. Home."
"Can you stop being such a bitch?," Marissa borderline yelled.
Hannibal did not look happy with her reply. Marissa sighed heavily.
"I'll see you later," Marissa said, stalking toward her mom.
"Bye."
She ran almost in a panic away from Amelia and Abigail.
"She's just shaken, Abby; she'll get over it," Amelia assured her sister.
"Did you ever see him before?," Will asked Abigail.
"No. I have no idea who he is."
"Let's get back to the hotel, we can go to the cabin tomorrow."
"We should report this, yes?," Hannibal asked.
"Yes," Will answered.
Hannibal regarded Amelia and Abigail as Amelia checked her sister over and they hugged.
They will be mine, he decided.
They all piled back into the SUV.
"If you don't mind, I would like to be dropped off at my apartment. I have some things I need to sort out tonight and I'll join you all in the morning."
"Certainly. Will you be joining us for breakfast?," Hannibal asked.
"I hope so. It depends on how much I can get done tonight."
They all made small talk on the fifteen-minute drive to her apartment, trying to avoid the subject of Garrett and Louise Hobbs.
They dropped Amelia off, her saying goodnight to each person in the car.
"Goodnight, Hannibal, Will; goodnight Abby. If you need anything just call me."
They all bade her goodnight in return, and they drove off.
Amelia walked up the stairs to her apartment. She unlocked the door and peeked her head inside to make sure Mark obeyed her instructions to not be present when she returned; thankfully he wasn't, AND he took all of his things with him.
She inspected all of her rooms to take inventory of what she had to pack. When she reached the bedroom she found a stack of papers on the bed with a note.
I'm sorry it ended this way. If you could not ask for alimony I would appreciate it.
Mark
Wow… What a low-life. Not that he has anything to give me anyway.
She picked up the papers, seeing that it was paperwork for divorce proceedings. She signed them all in haste, anxious to never think of Mark again.
Once that was done, she began throwing her clothes and shoes into boxes, gathering them next to the door. She wrapped her perfume in bubble wrap, carefully laying it in a smaller box. She got to a bottle of Givenchy that Mark had gotten her while they were dating.
Not much use for this now, she reasoned, opening the window and tossing it down into the dumpster below.
It was later joined by their wedding album, video, and photo albums of the six years they were married.
A: I signed the divorce papers. I want nothing from you other than for you to not bother contacting me again. I'll give them to your mother in the morning. Good luck, Mark; my condolences to the next poor woman you catch in your snare.
She happily pressed the "block" button after her message was sent. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, savoring her first few moments of newly-found freedom.
THE NEXT MORNING_
Amelia awoke to sunrays in her eyes.
Am: I'm sorry, Abby. Please tell Hannibal and Will I regretfully won't be joining you for breakfast.
Ab: Is everything okay?
Am: Yes, I just have to deliver papers to Mark's mom. I'll meet you all at the cabin.
Amelia packed her totes and boxes into her Rav4 and headed over to Katie's.
I hope she hasn't bought into all of the gossip.
As Amelia pulled up to her house, she noticed Katie waiting outside with Mark's father, Alan. They didn't look too happy to see her.
"Katie. Alan," she greeted.
"Amy," Katie replied with a leer.
"I came by to drop these off. I'm grateful that I got to be your daughter for a short time."
"Is that why you cheated on our Mark?," Katie asked with hostility in her voice.
"He said I cheated?"
"Yes."
"Maybe you should see this, then."
She showed his parents the footage she had of his infidelity, which they didn't seem too phased by.
"No matter, even if that's not the case, the fact of the matter is you come from a family of undesirables now. It's your fault that you and Mark split."
"Believe whatever you need to be in denial of your son being an adulterer, Katie; it makes no difference to me. Goodbye."
She turned on her heels to get back into her car. As she was getting into the driver's seat, she could hear Katie yelling at her.
"I see you're packed up; that's a good thing. No one wants Hobbs trash in this town!"
Geez, what a horrible woman.
Amelia drove to the family hunting cabin with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Not only from the tension with her ex and ex in-laws, but also out of fear of what they would find in that hunting cabin.
As she pulled up the driveway, she saw the big black SUV parked in front of the door. She hopped out of her car and scurried inside, the misty, abnormally silent environment giving her chills.
As she entered the building, she caught the tale end of their conversation.
"He made everything by himself. Glue, butter, he sold the pelts on eBay or in town. He'd make pillows. No parts went to waste. Otherwise it was murder. He was feeding them to us. Wasn't he?," Abigail inquired calmly, almost uncaring.
"It's very likely," Hannibal replied quietly.
Amelia closed the door behind her softly, trying not to interrupt; all three heads turned to her.
"Good morning, all."
"Good morning," Hannibal and Abigail said in unison as Will nodded his head towards her.
"I haven't been in this place for close to a decade. It's still as creepy and unnerving as I remember."
"I came here with dad every weekend up until… Before he cut my throat, he told me he killed those girls so he wouldn't have to kill me."
"Abby… You're not responsible for a grown man's decisions. He knew what he was doing and he paid the consequences for it. You shouldn't feel guil-," Amelia explained, pausing when red dropped onto her hand from the ceiling.
All four of them looked up to see a pool of what looked like blood leaking through the floorboards.
"Did he have an animal in the attic before that day?"
"... No...," Abigail's voice shuddered in response to Amelia's question.
Will started up the stairs, the Hobbs girls and Hannibal in tow. He abruptly stopped at the top of the stairs. Abigail and Amelia walked up behind him. Abigail let out a strangled sob at the sight of Marissa mounted on deer antlers hanging on the wall. A steady stream of blood was oozing from her onto the floor. She also appeared to have been in a post-mortem state for a while.
Amelia panicked and threw herself into Hannibal's arms. She felt him wrap his arms around her in return, calm as could be.
Will frantically dialed Jack Crawford, reporting that they had another body on their hands. Abigail went into shock and Will escorted her out of the house, wrapping her in a blanket he grabbed off one of the chairs on the way out.
Hannibal put his hands on Amelia's shoulders and gently led her back downstairs. As they passed the sink, she quickly turned the water on and began scrubbing her hands raw where the blood dripped onto her. She began to shake and lightly sob until Hannibal came up and delicately took her hands in his, holding them under the faucet until the water stopped streaking red. She calmed down as they sat outside in the car; her sitting inside with her body facing out the door and Hannibal facing her. He took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up.
"Are you okay? I'm sure that was distressing for you to witness."
"I think we could all use a breather from this place."
"Indeed, we could."
A slew of cop cars pulled up to the small cabin. They began taping off the area and taking statements from everyone. Jack arrived not long after, storming through the crowd of people and marching up the stairs to the hanging corpse. Will went with him, leaving Abigail in an ambulance. She and Hannibal went to check on her.
"Are you okay, Abby?"
Abigail leaned into her shoulder and let out a torrent of sobs.
"It's alright, honey. Soon this will all be behind us and we won't have to look back."
They were there several hours until Jack announced that they could leave. They went back to the house, intending to go through the last bit of boxes that remained. That was until the car parked in the driveway and they were all swarmed by reporters, Freddie Lounds at the helm.
Mrs. Schur ran up to Abigail, accusing her of being the cause of her daughter's death. Hannibal caught her before she could make it in close proximity to either of the girls, holding her back until she collapsed against him. He didn't look the least bit bothered. He waved to them to go wait in the house.
Abigail walked through the door, latched to Amelia's side, crying.
"Sit down, Abby. I'll get you a water."
Abigail nodded and grabbed a pillow, holding it to her chest. As Amelia left the room, she noticed the pillow felt stuffed with something that didn't feel like cotton, feathers, or anything usual. She cut open the pillowcase with one of her dad's hunting knives that she found in a nearby evidence box, and dug around in it, eventually pulling out a clump of hair. Then another. And another. She felt her insides churn. She ran to find Amelia, only to come face to face with Nick Boyle.
She screamed and backed up, thrashing to keep him away from her.
"I'm not gonna hurt you. Just please, listen. I didn't kill that girl," he said as he came closer, "I didn't-"
When he got to close for comfort, Abigail thrust out the knife she used to cut the pillow open, practically gutting Nick Boyle. They both looked at each other in shock until he crumbled to the floor, dead. Abigail began aimlessly wandering around the house, unable to process what had just happened.
"Abby? Abby?"
Hannibal returned inside the house just in time to see Abigail walking around with bloodied hands. As he saw Amelia approaching he snuck up behind her and hit her head on the wall, not hard enough to cause any real damage, but knocked her out. He laid her down on the floor, making sure she would be okay and turned to Abigail who came around the corner.
"Abigail… show me what happened."
She led him to the bloody scene where she killed Nick Boyle. He knelt down and looked at the body.
"He was going to kill me…"
"Was he? This wasn't self defense, Abigail. You butchered him. They'll take one look at this and you'll be labeled as an accessory to your father's crimes."
Abigail didn't know how to respond.
"I can help you… if you ask me to. A great risk to my career and my life. You have no choice. We can hide the body."
Abigail looked at him pensively, debating what the best thing to do would be.
She couldn't see it, but Hannibal let out the faintest hint of an unnervingly satisfied smile.
Outside, Will, Jack, and Amelia were in an ambulance.
"You remember nothing?," Jack asked.
"A little rustling, a pain. And then a big ol' cut to black."
Nicholas Boyle attacked Abigail while you were away. He struck Dr. Lecter on the back of the head and ran out the back door."
"Where's Abigail?"
"Dr. Le2cter took her back to the hotel. She scratched the Boyle kid on his way out. The blood and tissue on her hands matches the samples we got from Melissa Schur's mouth."
"He got away?"
"We'll find him," Jack concluded.
As soon as Amelia was back to normal consciousness. She headed back to her apartment to load up the last of her boxes. She took one last look around, and laid her key on the counter next to Mark's.
While she couldn't shake the feeling of loss, she was almost giddy to get away from her in-laws and ex-husband.
Goodbye, Bloomington. Goodbye, and good riddance.
She started her car and began the long drive back to Baltimore.
Abigail called her early in the morning, just as she was passing around Lake Michigan going through Wisconsin.
"Hey, Abby. How are you?"
"Not bad. How far do you have to drive still?"
"A long time. Close to twelve hours. Why? Is something wrong?"
"No, but Dr. Lecter wanted to offer to see you at his office when you get back to Baltimore before you left, but he didn't get the chance."
"Oh. You may tell him I would like to take him up on that offer. Give him my number and we'll work out the details later."
"Excellent. I'll tell him. We're going to be back in Baltimore long before you, so I'll ask for him to wait a couple days before calling you."
"Thank you, darling. I'll see you soon."
BALTIMORE- A FEW DAYS LATER_
"So, shall we say Thursday at four-thirty?"
"That works for me."
"Fantastic. I'll see you then. Goodnight, Amelia."
"Goodnight, Hannibal. And thank you."
He smiled to himself as he hung up the phone.
Hannibal was finishing his paperwork for the night, when he heard rustling on the landing that led to his books.
"Hello, Abigail," he said nonchalantly.
"How did you know it was me?"
"The hospital called. They said you climbed the wall. Where else would go? Home is no longer an option. Please, come down."
She hesitated, but walked down the stairs careful not to lose her footing. Hannibal held his hand out to her, and she took it, hopping down.
"Everytime I close my eyes all I see is murder. I didn't honor any part of him, so it's just murder, right?"
"Most would argue self defense."
"Then why not tell the truth?"
"Most would argue. There would still be naysayers who would claim that you were following the footsteps of your father."
"You're glad I killed him!?"
"What was the alternative? Him killing you?"
"We don't know if he would've."
"You don't."
"... You're the one that called the house. You talked to my dad… What did you say to him?," she asked in an accusatory tone.
"A simple conversation. Ascertaining if he was home for an interview. Then why not tell the truth?"
"They think the man who called the house is a serial killer."
A long silence is exchanged between them.
"I'm nothing like your dad. I made a mistake, easily misconstrued, much like yourself."
Another tense quiet fills the room.
"I'll keep your secret," he told her genuinely.
"... And I'll keep yours."
He, once again, had a very content look on his face.
"No more climbing walls," he mocked her as he walked away from her.
"I know my sister agreed to see you. Please… don't hurt her."
Hannibal looked taken aback.
"Why would I harm her? She's a…," memories of her big blue orbs looking up at him and the way her head rested against his chest when they found the body of Marissa Schur flashed through his mind, "very lovely lady."
Abigail hummed in agreement.
"And kind. And loyal. If she likes you, she'll stay at your side no matter what."
Hannibal's lips quirked upwards into a small smirk.
So much potential.
For both of his girls.