Disclaimer: I don't own "Hannibal" or any of the books by Thomas Harris. I don't own the characters such as Hannibal nor Clarice
A/N: Yeah! My first story! It's rewritten since now I'm a 3rd year college student and know something more about English :) I'm sorry for any mistakes that may occur. I did my best but English is not my first language and I still study it. This story was made in my sick mind a long time ago. It contains strong cursing and an adult theme in later chapters such as rape. I warned you guys. I used it as a metaphor for something important so please try to understand me. I hope you'll enjoy the story
Chapter 1: Melissa
He has never thought that he would live peacefully with his little starling, which he yearned to posses for so many years. Now, she was lying next to him but still he couldn't believe that was true. He sipped on the memories of Chesapeake Beach and her lips on his hot skin. This sudden burst of passionate hunger startled her but it was too late to fight it so she gave in. Refusing to notice his lips curved in mild amusement, she let him show her new dimension of pleasure. He brought her on the verge of begging and seconds later kissed her screams of pleasure. Then, everything happened fast: their trip to Paris, marriage and two more heart-beats inside of her. He was on his best behaviour with corsages of red roses, extremely expensive restaurants and ball gowns for thousands of dollars. Sacrificing the whole world for his wife and their children - a boy and a girl. Security was the top priority and any disturbance was dealt with dapperly and swiftly. But something went wrong and his mistake was closer than he could ever imagine.
Name: Melissa O'Connor. Parents? Ex- special agent and a serial killer. Well, that would be all about me that you should know for your own safety. Any siblings? Unfortunately, yes - Matt. Did I mention his being a fucking moron? We are twins but I don't see any similarities. They say he's handsome but people these days are weird. Eager to know what they say about me? Freak. But trust me; you don't want to call me like that. Really.
My father works as a psychiatrist and thanks to that, we live in a beautiful resident somewhere in the United States of America. I won't say where 'cause than I would have to kill you all and I'm quite busy so just forget about asking me. My mother doesn't work. She's just carrying about the garden. My pitiful brother is still daddy's precious heir and I'm suppose to be mommy's little girl. We hate each other but she still has some hope for a change. Yeah, right.
My life is simple. School, pretending not to exist, avoiding trouble (in vein), trying not to be recognized as a cannibal's daughter. I'm an average teenager or what?
Hannibal Lecter, also known as Marcus O'Connor, was gritting his teeth in irritation while his patient was talking with enormous passion about his fascinating life as a hanger. If this situation had occurred some years ago, this patient would have turned into a delicious dish. However, devoid of those little pleasures, doctor was forced to leave his office with a quiet sigh of exhaustion. He returned home praying for a good meal and an evening spent in solitude with a glass of old wine but was given the opposite of that. The first thing that he heard after crossing a threshold of his house was a piercing scream of his wife „HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT!" Instead of an answer doctor O'Connor heard loud footsteps and crashing doors. He winced at those noises but entered his house nonetheless and met his wife in the dining room. His son was finishing a meal in peace as if nothing had happened.
"I'm sick of her rudeness. Do something 'cause I don't have any patience left. "said Rebecca O'Connor angrily and crossed her arms. Her eyes were flashing with anger as she threw the issue of discipline on her husband. Both, mother and daughter were too hot-tempered to solve their arguments on their own. Marcus, with his stoic expression and steel authority, was the best person to cool them down.
"Calm down, my dear. I'll talk with her. "he said in a soothing voice but she was far too frustrated to give up right now.
"Can you imagine?! Her teacher called me five minutes ago. She was hanging out with her "lovely" friends instead of going to school for the whole week! And she got the guts to snap at me! "
"Alright honey, I'll solve it but now let us continue our lunch. That steak looks delicious."
Finally, Rebecca O'Connor, or Clarice Starling, let her husband take her by her arm and lead to the table where they finished dinner without any more disturbances.
I don't know what is wrong with her! She always picks on me without any reason. School? Who cares about school anyway? Pain in the ass. They all are morons who know nothing abut real literature, philosophy, art. Waste of time. Even father is aware of it but does nothing. To study medicine I need good grades only from some of those seminars. Human anatomy. That's what I really enjoy learning. Perfectly harmonious mechanism of muscles and bones. Sometimes I think that I'm just like my father. It's the scariest thought that ever occurred to me. So I keep in secret my love for classical music, good cars and dreams of medicine. I've been living with a cannibal, psychiatrist and a genius for 16 years and I avoided him like fire. And he seemed to accept it. Something that my mother would never do. What they need me for? They have the other twin. He has something that my father has. Lack of conscience and a little bit of talent. He knows how to fight, how to kill without a word. Self-defence? Mom believes in it but I don't. I admire my father, this I must admit, but at the same time I despise him with all my heart.
When he entered her room smell of incense hit his nostrils. It was a nice relaxing smell. His daughter was sitting on her big-posted bed and reading a book. Her long blonde hair was framing her features.
"Good afternoon Melissa." said her father while standing in the middle of the room with his hands behind him. The oldest posture of forced authority.
"Good afternoon father" she answered without a hint of kindness in her tone. It was a cold but respectful greeting. She looked at him behind her glasses and then returned to reading. Silence was heavy and unnatural. You could almost touch it. There was a big wall between father and daughter. And they felt good with it. Safe. Doctor Lecter used to understand her when she was little and would sit on his lap while he was talking about Florence, Paris and other beautiful places. But then he discovered that his four years old son knows how to play the piano. It wasn't Goldberg but it was still amazing. He gave all his soul to teach his son how to feel the music. Clarice was sharing her time with Melissa. But she didn't want anyone to care about her. She was ten years old when she decided to live alone in her room. Jealousy? The feeling of rejection? No, that would be easily dealt with but there was something else in her eyes. The shadow of disgust and fear. It was always forced down by her strong will and only respect for the parent stayed on the surface but he always saw this glimpse of hatred in her eyes. It was like seeing little Mischa from his past rejecting his protection and love. This feeling opened too many forbidden doors in his Memory Palace so he chose to let her daughter go. She was free to hide or to escape. But he would never abandon her. Just gave her the distance they both needed. But that distance grew bigger and bigger and eventually she was alone in her own house. Her mother became an enemy. Her father became a stranger. Her dreams became nightmares and he couldn't save her as this sheep refused to be saved.
They both played their daily roles perfectly. His gaze became intense and she was forced to meet his eyes. God, how she hated his gaze.
"It's high time you obeyed the rules of this house. You will apologize to your mother and finish this term without dropping school. "Everything was said in conversational tone but his gaze left no room for arguing. "Yes, father. I understand you and I promise I'll try not to argue with her. "
Simple and clear. But they both knew that it was all fake, just a game. He left the room while she was still standing there. Her lips were trembling. Her eyes were wet. "Help me" she whispered.