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: I made it! I'm almost done. It's hard to write when only one (but still precious ;) person is reviewing. Is anybody there? Please write what you think about a story. Should I continue? This story is near end. It's getting hottt in herre :)

Chapter 4: The decision

Disgusted by death, by blood she was completely vulnerable and ready to die. "What for?" her mind kept asking and that thought shocked her. For a split second she saw her mother standing stiffly next to an open grave. Silent tears framed her chins and her lips were pale white. She was too proud to cry openly. Hannibal stood next to her with his son by his side. They were still as statues but their eyes gave away the agony. She would be the reason of their suffering. What for? Before she could answer something happened in the room. Oxygen made its way through her lungs. Sudden scream made her shudder and forced her eyes to open. Before she saw what's happening her left hand was free.

"Get up. We have no time" somebody said and when she looked up she recognized her brother. Again it was him next to her in the moment of greatest need. He had blood all over his face. The girl looked around to see "the body painter" standing in the corner. The mask was gone and she saw his skinny face grimaced with pain. Matt punched him really hard 'cause now a part of his face was purple.

"I said fucking get up! There are more of them. Illegal organ traders. They used this psycho as a cover. We're in deep trouble 'sis. I've knocked down some of them but soon there will be others so don't play a fucking princess and get up!" Matt yelled at her while aiming his gun at the man in the corner. Mel desperately tried to force her muscles to move but the pain was unbearable.

"I can't move. I've lost too much blood." she whispered and coughed blood. Her throat was too sore to speak louder than a painful whisper.

"Shit" he cursed under his breath and began to free her other hand but before he finished something hard hit his temple. He fell on his right knee and felt that his hands were being painfully twisted behind his back. He tried to free himself but the man behind him was too strong. While focusing his mind on making a plan he managed to back up with inhuman strength, hit his opponent's back on the wall and break his nose with a back of his head. The man let off him and with an angry groan grasped his furiously bleeding nose. Matt lifted his gun and aimed at the man but he suddenly felt dizzy from the hit he got earlier. Noticing his weakness at the moment the man from the corner took a razorblade from a small table and attacked the still confused boy. This time Matt avoided the blade, grabbed the enemy by his wrist and simply threw him at the stairs. Next he had to fight with another attack. Melissa was watching his brother struggle with that man who had a broken nose. She could just stare and pray for a miracle. Her brother was strong and skilled yet he never fought in real life, with real enemies. She could see hesitation in his eyes while crashing the man's head against the wall. He was doing it only to survive but every cell in his body was screaming for him to stop and run. When he saw more people coming down the stairs his hope faded and his will broke down. He glanced at her and made a quick decision. With an enormous speed he ran for the stairs. Taking them by surprise, he shot some of the men and run upstairs. Those alive and not seriously injured ran with him and the fight continued upstairs where Matt got more space to fight.

She was alone now. She could hear the screams, loud footsteps, gunshots and thuds of falling bodies. Her brother was frantically fighting for survival but his chances were small. He was mentally kicking himself for being so foolish. Was he too proud? Was it pride that made him lie on the floor with broken ribs and wait for death to come?

Meanwhile, his little sister struggled with herself. Fighting for conscience, shaking from coldness and pain she was trying to keep her mind off the throbbing.

"I have to get up, I have to do something. I mustn't die here and leave Matt. "

"You're not weak, you can fight. You are his daughter, his heir, and you will not lose." with these words on her lips she made an inhuman effort to move and free herself. Pain made her bite her lip hard but she didn't stop and within 4 minutes she was free. Anger gave her the strength she thought she wouldn't posses. Desperation made her moves almost painless. The only thing she was thinking about was to destroy everything on her way.

At the same moment, upstairs, Matt faced a barrel. Dark eye of a gun mocked him.

"This kid looks quite healthy. We can borrow from him a perfect heart and a liver. Maybe our good friend Nathan will paint you in his own fashion after that. I think that painkillers won't be necessary"

His friends chuckled at that comment. Matt was quite troublesome. Five injured men needed some medical treatment. The body painter was unconscious and useless at the moment. One boy and such damage. This was infuriating and unbelievable at the same time.

Melissa took a knife from the table and didn't bother to look at the dead bodies at her feet. The stairs seemed enormous. Her legs were weak but her will was unbreakable. She was ready to kill and ready to fight but when she saw her brother lying on the floor, vomiting with blood and shaking in agonizing pain, she almost fainted. In slow motion she noticed a man going towards her and taking a knife from her hand. Stench of fresh blood and sweat mixed with cheap Cologne made her bowels twirl with disgust. She screamed and run for Matt but the man grabbed her and put a hand on her mouth to silence her. Wounds on her stomach where his grip was caused another wave of pain.

"Leave her alone you son of the ..!" shouted Matt but another kick in his stomach made him vomit again. When he was able to move his head, he looked with scorn at the man but after a second he smiled.

"What's so funny kiddy? " asked the man who was getting angry with Matt's attitude.

"Perfect" he answered and pointed with his gaze at the backdoors of the building. Every eye moved there and every heart stopped for a second. In the door stood the man with red gaze, almost completely white hair and a Harpy in his left hand.

Nobody have ever seen him in this state before. Silent rage made the air tense. He was only a few meters away from the whole scene. Very slowly he moved his monster eyes on his daughter then on his son. Nobody moved. Only Matt was smiling. Every other person in the room mentally screamed for escape. The man who was holding Melissa after quick fight with his own mind spoke. He prayed for firmness but his voice was trembling.

"Don't move or I'll kill her" he said and to prove his statement he put an edge of his knife under Mel's ribs. He made a thin wound to make himself more believable. She hissed from under his hand and struggled but he had an iron grip on her. She looked at her father with fearful gaze. He stood like an Angel of Death. She's never seen him like that before. No photos, no videotapes could describe that freezing feeling in your soul when you look at him in that state. No human being survived this stare. For the first time in her life she discovered that she was proud of him. He was standing like a mythological god of war, ready to fight for the sake of his family, his freedom. There was incredible power in him. In a blink of an eye her nightmare came to her as a vision.

…………………..

The room was small and their blood was on her bare feet. He was walking to her ever so slowly with a knife in his hands and blood on his lips. He came to her and stood so close that his breath caressed her face. Now she wasn't afraid. In a blink of an eye she attacked. He was standing against the wall. His eyes were slightly wider just as his smile was. "We are united." she whispered in his ear and without a hesitation plunged into his cheek and bit a big part of flesh.

…………………..

Reality woke her up with the pain of her wounds. She knew that it's the time to decide and she made her decision.