Note: This is just a very short chapter, more or less to reveal a little more about The Chosen. Thursday should be hopefully up in the not too distant future.
DAYNIGHT
a Hannibal fanfic by JetNoir
IN TRANSIT
Sometime past Midnight. We are in the Witching Hour…and Thursday has begun. Almost.
For Clarice Starling, there is nothing but darkness. On the edges of consciousness, she fights to wake up; but it doesn't come. The steady thrum of engines is all she can here, a steady mechanical beat.
The urge to scream is overpowering, as is her need to regurgitate. Clarice cannot do either, but still, it's slipping away.
I know you can here me. You are Starling. I am Chosen.
"Whh..at do you want?"
You cannot give me what I want.
Death.
Pain.
Suffering.
I want your blood Clarice Starling.
I want you to suffer.
Like.
Lilia.
"Lilia? What about Lilia?"
You murdered her!"She killed! God…I wanted to save her! She was the murderer. She…was my friend."
Liar.
You have no friends.
We are Death.
You are Death.
That is why we're together.
"Huh? That…doesn't make any sense."
What make sense? Life doesn't make sense. We live in a logic-less world. Killers walk the streets. Innocents are executed.
But we are concerned with you.
A new step of your incarceration is beginning.
"Don't do this. You don't have to do this."
We do. You know that.
"Your letter. You lied."
We didn't lie. Even if we did, what would it matter?
Something presses down on her nose and mouth again, and the drug-induced coma deepens, until Starling is once again sleeping.
She heard one last thing:
We are none of us guaranteed anything in life but the last breath we take…
--
Warehouse; Chicago
Three black-clad (unmasked) figures approached the van to meet the two inside it.
These are the self-proclaimed 'Chosen'.
Gently they lift the sleeping Starling out of the van, and bring her to the new room.
Tomorrow, it would begin.
--
In Dreams
"Come on Clarice! You know better than that!"
The voice soft in her ear. Clarice's eyes flickered open.
"Lilia?" said Starling, "Lilia, what's going on?"
"You're asleep again!" said Lilia. She was wearing the same purple dress, but no glasses. On her right cheek, there was a small drop of blood.
"Maybe they should have killed me," said Clarice, "but why are they letting me live?"
"You know why," said Lilia, "and when they are done…you are going to wish you had died."
"You know about this. What lies ahead. What are they going to do to me?"
"You know that. Pain. You will feel nothing but pain and suffering. They are going to hurt you Clarice."
Coming out of the dream, Lilia disappearing in a series of flashes, Clarice screamed.
Looks like they hadn't waited for tomorrow after all.
--
Day. Night.
Crying a thousand tears, in moonlight.
Trying to stop the pain.
Begging for deliverance.
Eyes opening and closing.
Immortal suffering, raining on my mouth.
Rain, red rain, blossoming.
A Poppy, opening.
Screaming.
Turning away, mourning my life.
Angels weep, and lambs bleat.
Holding on, to nothing but forbidden memory.
Catch me.
On a silver rainbow.
Deep within stars.
As I struggle towards daylight.
Note: Right, to be continued! Hope you enjoyed the chapter (and the poem), and please, please review!
Disclaimer: Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the story, plus original characters to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page without my express written permission. Thankyou!
JetNoir