CHAPTER 2: Plague
Clarice Starling's Mustang boomed up the underground garage of the Quantico Field Office. She removed the seat belt and stepped into the cool air of the garage. In the dark depths of her nice bag she had a piece of bond paper which said in an engaging hand:
The time that every star shines down on us
When Love appeared to me so suddenly
That I still shudder at the memory.
Joyous Love seemed to me, the while he held
My heart within his hands, and in his arms
My lady lay asleep wrapped in a veil.
He woke her then and trembling and obedient
She ate that burning heart out of his hand;
Weeping I saw him then depart from me.
"Starling, I've got an official medical report for you".
She turned to the incomer, but instead of the proffered files saw…
…and felt herself being caressed and bit and kissed and sucked in the darkness. A blink. He thrust fiercely and sank his lips into her neck. A blink. He put his hands behind her thighs and held them up high. A blink. A cry, her cry, filled the dark room and everything went black.
"Starling! Wake up, will you?"
"I'm sorry, Ted, I was elsewhere"
"So it seemed" Ted Calvert used to dangle after her, but quickly gave up his attempts, which she was grateful for. "Here" He handed her the files "The autopsy results came in -- the body was in full rigor mortis. The rate of the growth of the maggot eggs next to the decedent's eyes suggest 8 hours have elapsed since the time of death"
"Any skin found under the fingernails?" The darkness again, and she felt him exploring her hungrily.
"No. No bruises or small wounds either. There was no struggle" After short struggle, he pinned her to the bed once more and playfully nipped at her jaw. "Like the other victims, this man was carefully undressed and brought to a public place at night, where everyone could see him".In the morning he had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen on a human being."The medical examiner says he was poisoned". Calvert waited for her reaction, but she continued nodding. "You don't seem to listen"
"On the contrary, I'm all ears" She lied. "Proceed"
"The poison which the murderer used has a very distinctive taste, Starling. You can't hide it with sugar. Seems like the decedent took it voluntarily".
"Being held at gunpoint?" Much to his own surprise Calvert had her full attention now.
"No. It is very likely that he was hypnotized and didn't even feel the pain in his stomach. He drank the full glass".
Oh dear, she thought. I don't have any wine glasses. Is there any chance Hannibal Lecter will forget to buy wine while shopping?
Hardly.
Calvert kept on and on retelling the official report as Starling watched his lips blankly. Finally, he concluded:
"It's his forth victim. I think we're dealing with a sane person here. Madmen can't really hypnotize, can they? What do you think?"
He was about to thieve her donate, when heard the absent answer:
"I think I'm taking get off"
The front door was unlocked, exactly as she left it. Starling stepped into the cool semi-dark, and turned on the lights. Stop, listen. Empty silence. Pulling off her shoes, she came up to the mirror. Cognac was cheap but strong enough to keep her from chewing Pepto-Bismol tablets, and that was all she needed. Starling set close to the barman with a pile of magazines in order to avoid any possible pestering. She'd read a couple of criminological pieces when her eyes ran against the title "The logic of chaos". As she left, one paragraph in the article remained sloppily underlined (by a shaky hand?):
"…one of the FBI Most Wanted Dr Hannibal "The Cannibal" Lecter. This highly educated madman escaped from the custody two years ago; shortly before that, being prisoned in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, Lecter got into some kind of "romantic" relationship with an FBI trainee of that time and now Special Agent Starling, whom he actually helped with the Buffalo Bill Case Investigation. Apparently, Hannibal the Cannibal has no plans to call on Ms Starling; after all, he's the last person to demonstrate Expected Conduct"
Clarice watched dizzy darkness of the living area. The only source of light was a slack fire in the fireplace. Slowly, she took off her coat and put it on the locker. He's right there, beyond the doorstep, creeping along the wall like a huge spark. Bogyman.
The last person to demonstrate Expected Conduct.
Unbuttoning her shirt, Starling stepped inside the room.
Dr. Lecter, in his white asylum pajamas, was standing there, hands on his sides. Smiling and starring at her unblinkingly, he smoothly came closer.
There was no one in the living room. She saw tall crystal on the side table, blazing logs, unlit candles, the bar full ofwine bottles, a sideboard which apparently didn't fit into the kitchen and a classic stereo system elegant enough for the Royal Palace. There was a smell of restaurant cooking in the air. Starling sensed there were many more new things around her, but she decided to put off a more thoughtful investigation till later.
Taking off her shirt, Clarice started to go up the stairs.
At night he never sleeps.
She reached to turn the knob and felt a light caressing touch on her arm. She didn't hear him move.
"Good evening, Clarice"
Slowly, she turned around and found herself face to face with Hannibal a beat he dropped his gaze to her lips and leaned closer for a brief kiss. It definitely excited him to see her in this particular way.
"Patience, My Dear"
It is hard to say who is more surprised by her words. Neither of them, however, shows any emotion.
Abruptly, Lecter stops his attentions, his eys snap open, lips leave her cheek as he pulls away far enough to study her. His nostrils flare with distaste. Yeah Doctor, I like cognac. SO WHAT.
"Would you like a late meal, Clarice?" – He asked.
"No" – She slipped out of his grip and once again reached for the door-handle. – "May I?"
He stepped back, hands falling to his sides, face unreadable. Once in the bedroom, Starling walked over to the closet.
"Mind if I change my clothes?" – She heard him close the door. In the closet she found a variety of new clothes, dresses, pants suits and what not. A beat. – "Ummm, could you kindly come up here and unsnag my brassiere? I can't seem to do it myself. Too much cognac." – It was pretty much like teasing a mamba.
Watching Clarice unzip her skirt and pull it down, Hannibal Lecter went to the coach and dropped easily into it. The Monster smiled at the sight of Clarice's nude figure, but said nothing. Starling passed him by to take a shower. Soon after, she appeared at the doorstep, wearing a new-found dressing gown and her old bunny slippers. Lecter hadn't changed his pose.
Clarice slipped under the covers. Beats of silence, and she spoke:
"I was restless all day long. I was thinking about you. The night we shared. It's like measles or plague, that feeling".
Lecter seemed to be perfectly still.
"Interesting parallels. I'll draw my one, Clarice,if I may. What drives you when you're aroused? "
"Pleasure…" - Her smile disappeared as Doctor bounded to his feet, all tense:
"No! It is displeasure. The feeling of discomfort. If you were happy with what the preliminaries can bring, you wouldn't be eager to continue. A moth wouldn't approach a light in broad daylight, Agent Starling. You could still feel my touches all over your body, didn't you, at the FBI Field Office?
He leans over Clarice now, close enough for her to feel his breath on her skin.
"Tell me, Special Agent Starling, did you press your thighs together when no one watched?" Lecter sucked on the side of her neck and heard her inhaling sharply. He smiled to himself.
"It could ease the tension temporarily, but not satisfy the libido" He was drawing circles over her tummy with his forefinger. "And unsatisfied need can easily turn into strong displeasure". – Lecter was delivering the words slowly as if being under the effects of a drug. His hand snaked under the covers and moved down her body. He then slowly parted her thighs and caressed the inner sides of them. His palms were so warm and smooth that Starling felt the urge to giggle. "Wouldn't it be a pity hmmmm?"
"Clarice, fisrt sexual experience is closely connected with taking nourishment". - Doctor started to kiss his way to her exposed nipples. – "Thus sucking… on a woman's breast…as an adult… is always… the second experience". – Starling moaned quietly and tilted back her platinum head, which he found curiously charming. Enjoying the taste of her, Hannibal Lecter almost closed his eyes with pleasure, like a cat whom one is tickling gently behind the ears with one's finger.
Almost too soon he withdrew and kissed his way back to her mouth, stopping bare inches from it.
"All good things", - his lips were slightly stroking hers now, - "to those who wait", - And then she felt cold air pouring between them as his body left hers. He had stood up. Shocked, she simply stared at his figure moving away from her.
"Where are you going?" – She managed finally, more than slightly irritated.
"Downstairs, to get myself a drink. Come and join me", – He then turned his back on her (Starling's mouth fell open) and disappeared in the dark hallway. After a slight hesitation, she jumped up from the bed and wrapped up her rope, eyes sparkling with irritation. That's the kind of performance Chilton would give, Hannibal dear. She heard him open the purchased wine and put the bottle back in the bar.
"Oh, here you are", - Lecter said, savoring her expression. – "What would you like to…"
"You". - She interrupted, rising her brow seductively. An evil smile appeared on Lecter's red lips. He took a sip from his glass and crossed his legs. Hmmm, suppressing the discomfort, Doctor? She smiled to herself and decided not to say it out loud just yet– it'd make him play smarter.
She started a slow approach towards him.
"Why don't you have a glass of wine, Clarice? No? Please", - Lecter said, inviting her to sit. What she did next surprised them both.
Clarice chose the farthest corner – a tall armchair near a small round table. Doctor's smile melted.
"Clarice, it's not that warm in here. Sit closer to the fire", - He patted the surface right beside him.
Starling wasn't listening. She made herself comfortable and slightly opened her flimsy dressing gown.
"Phew! Boy, is it hot in here".
Lecter pursued his lips and took another sip. Looking always into his eyes, Clarice crossed her naked legs, which made her dressing gown open wider. Hannibal Lecter watched her with pure curiosity, smiling. – "It is so hard to restrain oneself, isn't it, Dr.?" – She asked in kindest of tones. – "Think I didn't notice all those restless movements you tried so desperately to shed? Feeling discomfort, aren't you? Are you strong enough to restrain yourself? I can take off this robe and come so close you won't be able to say where your body ends and where mine begins. How about it? I'll touch you like no one ever touched. Is this task complex enough for you? Or maybe you're just afraid you can't make it".
Dr. Lecter's friendly smile widened and he eyed her with a mix of fondness and animal need. He rose in his own time andcame closer, stopping himself with obvious effort as he neared her.
"Clarice, has it ever occurred to you that I have no desire", - the glass was left behind, - "in restraining myself? Is there any use in it? No. Not if two people want something as much as this", - slowly, Lecter went on his knee and leaned closer, whether to kiss her or bite her, she could not tell.
"You love your games, don't you, Dr.?" – He didn't respond. - "And showing off, weirdness, all that bullshit -- fuck her, go to sleep. It's easy". – A nip at her earlobe, - "The last game of yours was merely cheap". – A trail of wet kisses down her neck and exposed breasts. - "Always leave them…mmm… want more. Old trick". – Hot palms parted her thighs – "That's the only weakness I ever saw in you…oh god…" - Lecter pulled her pelvis to him with such force she nearly fell off the arm chair, - "you have to look smart", - He kissed her inner thighs, - "smarter than any…body…" - Starling was quite willing to continue telling him off, but all her thoughts ceased with the first stroke of his tongue.
He didn't look up at her. Firmly holding her thighs in place, Hannibal Lecter went completely into his work. It might as well be only her vulva without the rest of herlying there before him like some delicious restaurantmeal.
Whenhe finally withdrew, having brought her to the very edge of orgasm for at least six or seven times, her eyes blinked open and she straddled him, sucking his lower lip into her mouth. Biting and flicking her breasts,Lecter lowered Clarice on her back and moved forward over her, his lithe body completely enveloping hers. Feeling his desperate, routh, rhythmic thrusting, his teeth on her shoulder, she let her eyes drift shut. Here she was, lying beneath a wanted criminal and letting him fuck her senseless. My, my…
In the Beginning Harris created 'Silence of the lambs'. And Harris said: 'Let there be a book" and there was the book. And Demme saw that the book was good; and he invited Hopkins over there... Many years passed, and then the Lecterphiles appeared.