Author's Note: I just want to thank anyone who's reading this story if anyone is reading it at all. I hope it's not too confusing. I promise you that the pace will pick up. Please R & R.
Chapter 1 Reunion
She reads through the case file carefully, every now and then flipping back to reread some small detail. Nine people were dead, killed by the same person or group of persons. Each body was found with a white ribbon tied to the left wrist. Each person was killed by a long sharp object thrust straight through the heart. The victims were around twenty to twenty five years old, all with drug or alcohol problems. The family members and friends who were interviewed all said that the victims were "wild and loose people with no good morals." Some were college students while the others were drop-outs. That was where the similarities ended. After each of the victims was killed, the corner wrote that the bodies were mutilated or positioned in different ways. One victim was found hung by his feet with his arms tied around his waist. Another was a woman who was found in her tub with her wrists and throat cut postmortem. At that crime scene all the mirrors in the house had been smashed and the forensic team found pieces of glass imbedded into her skin.
'Reminds me of Francis Dolarhyde,' thought Clarice.
The murderer did not care about gender, physical appearance, or race. That was odd since serial killers generally killed within their own ethnic group. No trace evidence had been found on any of the bodies. No witnesses came forward either. The FBI had nothing. All nine murders had occurred within a six month time period with no set pattern.
'Seems so random.'
She knew there was something there though. There had to be.
It was around three a.m. when Clarice awoke and bolted upright again. There was someone in the room. She slowly moved her head to the side, her vision still blurred from sleep. She blinked and saw the outline of someone sitting at her desk. She slid her hand under her pillow but her .45 was gone. A quite sinister chuckle sounded from the figure.
"Are you looking for something, Special Agent Starling?"
The rasp of that metallic sounding voice made her shutter. Two red pin pricks were gazing in her direction and she assumed that they were light from his eyes. She swallowed down her fear and found her voice.
"You know, Dr. Lecter, that it is extremely rude to enter a home without being invited in?"
Silence filled the room. The tension was thick in the air. Clarice could just imagine the smirk on his face when he answered.
"I'm terribly sorry about that, Clarice, but you see, I couldn't knock and expect you to answer the front door for me, could I? If its your honor your worried about, don't worry. No one saw me come in."
She felt her face become flushed but bit down any retort. She heard the chair he was sitting on squeak slightly as he rose from it. She watched his outline walk to the foot of her bed and then light a match. He lit a candle and then set it on her armoire.
"We don't want the neighbors to think that something's wrong, do we?"
She nodded reflexively. Dr. Hannibal Lecter stood clothed in a well cut dark gray suit with black silk shirt and tie. His dark hair was slicked back and now Clarice noticed for the first time the gray hair coming from his temples. She saw that his black fedora was placed on her desk. She felt very subconscious in her appearance. She was wearing only an old FBI t-shirt with sweats and her hair was messy.
"What, pray tell, Dr. Lecter, is the meaning of this visit?"
"I just wanted to visit and to see if you've had any luck on the new case your working on."
"And just what case am I working on, Doctor?" she asked calmly, all her fear leaving her now.
"This one," he said while walking over to the desk and picking up the case file. In the candle light she could see the scar on his left hand from his removal of his perfectly replicated middle digit.
"Do you have any idea why this man you seek ties a white ribbon around their wrist?" he asked. He stared unblinkingly at her. Her gaze faltered and she looked around the room to concentrate on something else.
"No I don't. I've been thinking about that for weeks." She looked at him to see if he would supply an answer. He nodded and said nothing else.
"Why does he do it, Dr. Lecter? How do you even know it's a he?" she asked.
He began pacing the room. Clarice thought he looked like a panther pacing its cage in her small room. Neither spoke for a full five minutes. Clarice had sat patiently against her headboard but as the silence became deafening she began to get frustrated and then angry.
"Shit, Dr. Lecter! Aren't you going to tell me anything! That is obviously why you showed up here tonight, isn't it?" As she yelled her Virginian accent thickened into a drawl. She heard him whisper something.
"What was that Dr. Lecter? I didn't quite catch that." she said while mustering all the patience she had left.
"Quid pro quo."
Hey guys! Well another chapter finished. I should have Chapter three done this weekend, too. Please read and review and honestly tell me how you guys think of it. I'll accept criticism as long as it is in good taste. Thanks.
