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 (but I have them in my closet /grins/)
A/N: Is anyone reading this? (Thank you JahWarrior :) Please review! It's my first story so I need you guys! I've got another chapters for you. Things are going more and more complicated :) Time for some action! My story is close to the end. Yeah, I know it's short and everything is happening fast but it's my first story and besides my English needs improvement. So go on with the story!
Chapter 3: The Choice
It was a deserted factory which desperately needed a renovation but the city had no money for it and no investors were interested. Some kids made a kingdom in that factory. They had meetings there as well as loud parties . Police tried to do something because they said it was dangerous. But they couldn't do anything. Melissa opened the back door and entered the black corridor. She exactly knew where to go even without any lights. She kicked another door. The spacious hall was cold and dirty. Between boxes, machines and big sheets stood some chairs, a big broken sofa, a few tables, TV, stereo and a computer. Their territory was among music posters, empty bottles, dirty syringes and CD's.
"Hey guys" she said and two sleepy teenagers woke up on the sofa and looked at her in confusion.
"Hey Mel" said the girl and loudly yawned. "Holy shit, I'm fucking thirsty."
After drinking some cola from a bottle lying on the floor she asked "What's up girl? No school today?"
"That would be nice. That Simpson bitch is getting on my nerves."
"Stay cool, honey. Life's brutal. Wanna some good stuff?"
"No thanks Holly. I prefer to live" she said sarcastically and sat next to Holly.
"You'll change your mind someday." Holly got up and stretched.
"Girl, that was a perfect party! Trevor showed me some new stuff and I was just flying to the Mars! Where did you get it boy?"
Trevor smiled and said.
"That's a secret. You were a good girl so I gave you something harder. Today we are going to The Club. Feel like coming Mel?"
I kinda like Trevor. There's something about him that I cannot put my finger on. He's all about motorbikes and fast cars. Red hair, plenty of earrings and that perfect smile. Drug addict since junior high school. No family, no duties, no religion and what's the most important- no school. Holly. That girl is seriously sick! She tried to commit suicide 5 times. She's adrenaline addict who loves to be at death's door, has a huge phoenix tattoo on her back, short black hair and green eyes. We understand each other without words. Unity of souls. I love to be with them. They are free. No morality and no borderlines. We met when Holly tried to kill herself the fourth time. She overdosed on purpose. I found her nearly dead on the pavement. Nobody noticed her or nobody wanted to notice. No policeman, no priest. Because she was dirty, she had black clothes, tattoo and probably AIDS. I helped her, took her to the hospital and paid for her life. Then, I met Trevor on the hospital corridor. Panting furiously, he looked like a little child on the verge of crying. They accepted me without questioning my beliefs or my family. I need them and they need me.
"Maybe It's not such a stupid idea" said Melissa and went to change her clothes and put a bandage on her hand.
The Club was situated at the outskirts of the city. It was well known for drugs and girls ready to do basically anything for money. Flashy lights, loud music and drugs. Bodyguards were standing behind the gates and decided who was sober enough to enter. Melissa, Trevor and Holly had no problems with entering. The just wanted to have good fun and relax. But what they didn't knew was a pair of eyes observing their every movement.
The music made her shiver with pure excitement. They spread since Holly and Trevor went to buy some stuff and Mel was dancing alone with the crowd. All the stress, all her problems disappeared in the beat. She enjoyed the rare moments of freedom. She didn't care that it was late, that her mother would probably be furious and disappointed. She just didn't care. Some drunk guys began dancing with her in an attempt of fake affection. She was their rhythm. She didn't feel the needle, but felt warmth rushing trough her thigh. Immediately everything went blank. Still no pain, still no stress. Just sleepiness. Somebody carried her out of the building. She looked like another girl who overdosed that night. Her friends didn't bother to look after her as they were too busy looking after the shadow of independence and control.
Light of torch made her wake up abruptly. She tried to cover her sore eyes but discovered that her hands and legs were bound. After a few seconds the torch was taken away and she could look around in slight panic. The room she was held in was too dark to calculate it properly but she was aware of the fact that it was most probably a basement. Some candles lit the room and she finally noticed the masked stranger standing in the darkest corner. He was visibly pleased with the fact that he was finally acknowledged.
"What the fuck is going on here!" she yelled and tried to free her hands. It was no use. The man in the mask came closer and Mel could see his icy blue eyes similar to hers.
"Calm down sweetie. I won't hurt you . Not yet"
She could almost see him smile. She shivered and then realized that she was lying on a big metallic table only in her underwear. She could smell the scent of blood in the air and felt pain in her wrists and calves.
"I've been watching you for a long time. I like your body. I like nice bodies. There is some art in woman's body. I just have to paint it properly. "
His eyes sparkled as he showed her a small table standing behind him. She lost herself and screamed at the top of her lungs.
NO!!! Jesus Christ! What kind of psycho is that! Knives, scissors, razorblades, scalpels , choppers and needles. I've seen death, I've seen my father's victims on photos, but …but.. being here, on this table. Please, God… don't let him touch me! What does he want? Ransom? My father is quite rich, he's well-known and he is a fucking psychiatrist. Is that psycho his patient or maybe his victim? No, it's impossible. I have to talk with him, I must do something. Maybe he has some partners? I have no more time. Think Mel, just fucking think! Daddy won't help you now. Nor Matt. You're alone, and free as you wanted to be. Now is your choice. Die or kill him.
She took deep calming breathes but that just made her blood rush even more in her ears. The noise was almost painful.
"Talk with me and maybe we can solve your problems." she said and looked him in the eye. In one second he grabbed a scalpel from the table and cut her leg from her knee to her hip. Sudden pain blurred her vision but she swallowed her agony hard, desperate to win this battle. He was visibly impressed.
"I don't need to talk with you. All I want is your body, your suffering and your blood. I will draw a picture on you. I'm not an ordinary filthy killer. I'm an artist."
Suddenly, she remembered. She knew who he was. Police called him "The body painter" because he was cutting his victims, drawing strange pictures and writing poems on their skin. A few months ago murders stopped and police thought that it's the end. And now Melissa was his next victim. She needed time to think, to recover from the shock but she had none. Pain made her angry and on the verge of loosing her temper. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.
"I've seen your art and I'm your biggest fan. The potential in you is undeniable. I would be honoured to be your assistant, master. I yearn for nothing more."
She played the last card and was relieved to see his eyes becoming wider as her words sank in.
"Master?" he murmured clearly enjoying the sound.
"You're my inspiration. This word would fit perfectly your milky abdomen"
Time slowed down or a second as she inhaled air sharply. But with the exhalation it rushed furiously as the panic attack hit her with all the might.
"Let me go you psycho! You don't have a fucking idea with who you are talking right now! You I don't fucking care about you childhood trauma, your big fat mother and abusive father, you asshole!" she yelled in last attempts to free herself from the bounds.
In one smooth movement he started to cut her whole body randomly and with every word deeper.
"YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME YOU BITCH! YOU DON'T KNOW MY MOTHER! SHE LOVED ME!"
The girl was screaming like a wounded animal. Blood dripping on the floor made a big puddle around the table. Her shouts aroused him eminently. He threw away the scalpel, jumped on the table, straddled her and began to choke her. Darkness began to engulf her slowly as lungs screamed for air. Her struggles became weaker as world began to spin . Brain screamed for oxygen, but she had no strength nor will to fight. Disgusted by death, by blood, remembering her dreams, she was completely vulnerable and ready to die.