The characters of Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling belong to Thomas Harris, I derive no profit from this fiction.
I am most grateful to all of the faithful readers who commented on the story, encouraging me to go on with the twists and turns of it.

I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 19

"Communion"

The first thing they heard as they approached the cabin was the screams coming from the back by the little stream where behind the cabin. The screams grew lauder as they got closer, mixed then with the voices of men shouting obscenities. Dr Tirva dismounted, turned to Hannibal, and handed him the reigns

"Take care of the horses, while I check on the back," he said, pointing to the trees where he clearly wanted the boy to hide the horses.

Hannibal nodded, then got off his pony and led the horse and his pony deeper in the woods where they couldn't be seen, while the Doctor made his way toward the back of the house. There were shouts and gunfire, followed by more shouts and more gunfire. The women had stop screaming and there was the sound of one male voice, still shouting obscenities.

Seven and a half year old Hannibal unsheathed his hunting knife and walked swiftly to the back of the cabin.

The scene there was appalling. Three men laid death or dying, one atop Aunt Anna, who was herself covered with blood, her skirts pulled up and the bodice of her dress torn, the upper part of her head half missing. Both the doctor and another man lay dead, while still another one was vigorously ridding atop Vilka, the lower part of her body on a pool of blood, the girl no longer screaming or moving except from the impact from the man on top of her.

Hannibal felt a surge of overwhelming rage, and his head throbbed as if it would explode, but he was calm. Swiftly and silently he approached the man from behind, jumped on his back, and slashed his throat from side to side with surprising ease. The man made a sharp movement with his right arm and fell on top of Vilka, covering her completely, while Hannibal jumped to the side and looked at the whole scene as in a nightmare; yet he felt cold and collected and knew exactly what he was supposed to do.

His first priority was to get Vilka from under the man, and he pushed and pulled, until he was finally able to uncover the top part of her body. Desperately he kneeled beside her and run his hands over her face to clean the blood that covered it, all the while calling her name and urging her to wake up, telling her that she was safe…. safe….safe…she was safe.

When his efforts to revive her failed, he continued to push the man's body until it was entirely off her.

Only then did it down on him the significance of her tiny body lying in a pool of blood, and he knew, with overwhelming certainty that she too was dead.

Almost of its own volition, a long piercing noise stemmed from his throat, and the sound simultaneously frightened, lulled, and numbed him. He kept thus screaming while he scoped some of his little friend's blood and rubbed it over own face, then raised his arms to the heavens and continued to yell.

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Calmed and composed, Dr Hannibal Lecter stood up to refill their wine glasses, while in her minds eyes, Clarice tried to picture him as he had been then, small for his age, thin, dark and intense; alone again in an environment where debauchery, violence and survival of the fittest appeared to prevail.

She heard his metallic, unused voice of long ago, in the dungeon: "I happened." he said then and the impact of his statement hit her once again with the renewed realization that he was not the product of his environment but of his own personal reaction to the violence that surrounded him. Another child would have probably not survived or made something different of what happened. Maybe sold his soul to survive or compromised. Not Hannibal, he fought back. Even at seven and a half Hannibal Lecter would not consent to be broken.

She felt a massive surge of love for him, a tremendous need to protect the child he had been, and felt guilty for asking the man he was today to walk back through that hell to satisfy her curiosity.

She wanted to reach out for him and hold him, but thought he might misinterpret he gesture as pity, and pity would offend him.

So she sought eye contact until he finally looked at her. When he did, his eyes seemed empty at first, but then he saw her and for an instant, he appeared almost vulnerable, and in that second she loved him more than she ever thought possible.

Reading her feelings in her eyes, Hannibal reached with one hand and brought her to him while his mouth blindly reached for hers. Clarice clutched to him as if she feared he would disappear into his past and vanish forever. She told him about here her guilt for having asking him to revisit a place where he should never revisit.
But Hannibal thought differently.

"I don't mind going there again as long as you are beside me, to dig me up if I go too far under. In fact, Clarice, it might be therapeutic to go back there armed with your love as a shield."

He eyes welled with tears, and she hid them, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Did you ever discuss any of these with your fated therapist?" she inquired.

"No, she would have used my past to make excuses for my behavior instead of admitting that I am who I am, and my actions are a result of who I am, not what happened to me."

She lifted her head to look at him, and pushed on

"Did it get worse after that?" she couldn't help herself, she needed to know.

"Not really, I had to leave the cabin because of the smell, it was early fall and still hot and the bodies decomposed fast. As an accolade, before I buried them I removed some organs of each of my adopted family members, cooked them, and ate them. Making them a part of me, then I left; by foot, because a horse would have made me the target of thieves.
It was difficult to get food because the bodies that had not yet been carried away by the rescuers, were rotting on the side of the road, I didn't know if those soldiers were friends or foes, so I hid from them.

Mainly I killed a few animals for food, but they were slippery and hard to catch. Dr Tirva taught me all I needed to know for survival and I made small fires so as not to attract attention and cooked the skinny animals I managed to catch, but it was difficult and the food didn't last long. Once I killed a man for food, and one because he caught me and was going to do me harm. I ate him too.

Ultimately, I failed to avoid the soldiers and they took me to a children shelter. They were kind enough, both the soldiers and the people from the shelter. From the children shelter they took me to an orphanage. When the orphanage became overcrowded, some of the children were moved elsewhere by the Red Cross. I ended up in Paris, where a Lithuanian couple, who had heard of my family, finally adopted me. They were nice, but I didn't want to become attached anymore. I thought that if I did, I would lose them too as I had lost all the others."

Clarice nodded silently. She knew the feeling only too well.

He got up, walked to the bassinette and stood watching Adam, then turned to Clarice and signaled for her to approach and look. When she did, she stood by him and took his hand, he squeezed gently and turned to her,

"Don't fear that I would mistake your love for pity, Clarice, don't be afraid to express your feelings."

She opened her mouth and then closed it and smiled instead, no longer surprised by his keen insight. Then let go of his hand and wrapped both arms around his waist. He pulled her to him and they turned to look at the baby.

Adam had managed to stretch and reach one of the animals on the mobile, grasped it firmly, and attempted to pull with determination, when the object didn't respond; he pulled so hard that his entire little torso was several inches off the mattress.

When he saw them he let go of the object, smiled and cooed, bright eyes and happy, stretching his tiny hand towards them. Hannibal picked him up.

"You are going to outgrow the basinet any time now, aren't you big boy?"

Then place him back in the basinet.

"I think is time to put an end to the chase, Clarice." He said, removing a syringe from his pocket. "We need to provide them with proof of your and Adam's death. Why don't you go and get me one of his tiny body suits and a plastic bag?"

When Clarice came back she handed him a tiny one piece "snap on" and kept the plastic bag in her hand. Hannibal then withdrew a fair amount of blood from Adam and squirted it expertly onto the tiny garment, then handed it to Clarice who placed it in the plastic bag and zipped it.

"You are next," he said turning to Clarice. "I'm going to need more blood from you, two vials at least, a T shirt and another plastic bag. Let me fetch the needle and vials while you get the rest."

Once he revealed his plan Clarice argued,

"If you claim that you killed us, then they'll be after you again. Why not make it appear as if we were killed by those responsible for Pearsall and Noonan's death and all the others?"

"Tsk, tsk Clarice, your feelings are clouding you judgment," he teased, "If I did as you suggest it wouldn't deceive those who are after you; they would know is a ploy to avert them. But I have credibility in the murder department. If I claim I killed you then everyone would believe I did."

Their love making was intense and sometimes furious that night and went on for a good part of the night. Clarice feared he would have nightmares, and held on to him for dear life, but he sleep as peacefully as Adam.

The next day, they drove to Atlanta, where they did some serious shopping, including a small printer and standard printer paper from CompUsa. Then they purchased an ample supply of baby formula and a variety of various household goods.

On the way back they stopped at the Fresh Market in their own town of Alpharetta, a well known, pricey Gourmet Market where Hannibal was able to find items that met and even exceeded his expectations. He was pleased and promised to shop there for all their groceries.

Once they got home, Hannibal composed one of his lengthy notes,

To whom it may concern:

After the various attempts by unknown sources against lives of former Special Agent Starling and the child, it occurred to me that I should be the one to carry the deed, with the dignity and compassion they both deserve.

Shortly after their demise, it become clear to me that the world would become a duller place without the presence of Starling in it and decided it was appropriate for me to follow. A project that I decided to carry on in my native Lithuania.

But the time this missive reaches its final destination, I will have long completed my final endeavor.

As a last suggestion I would I strongly advice that you abandon the search for the remains of either former Special Agent Starling or the child, as I consumed most of their choice parts in a final act or respectful communion.

Sincerely,

Hannibal Lecter, MD

Clarice thought the later was a nice touch, but refrained from asking him if he had truly eaten any of his victims or if it had all been whimsical bravado. She really didn't want to discuss that part of his past.

A long time user of re-mailing services, the doctor hand wrote the inner envelope, and prepared the items for mailing. The service would address it and have it mailed from the place of his choice, and ultimately the envelope that would end up on the desk of the News Editor of the New York Times. A liberal, credible Newspaper not dedicated to sensationalism.

Once they dropped the item in a mail box they sat back and celebrated. Now they'd have to wait.

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OK let me know how did you like this one, and if you like the new direction we are taking.
I DO hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Clariz