Note: I find it difficult to believe, but this story was begun exactly one year ago today - along with A Hole In The Head, and Her Burning Heart: my three sequels to Lessons. Now, Hole and this are finished, sadly Her Burning Heart isn't quite, but that will be done soon. What happens next, I'll explain at the bottom, but for now, the conclusion; which contains violent scenes.

DAYNIGHT

a Hannibal fanfic by JetNoir

SUNDAY

Over the course of the past seven days, FBI Special Agent Clarice Starling has been shot, kidnapped, assaulted, tortured, almost blown up twice, and forcibly imprisoned during the light of day.

Her crime? Murder.

But legal murder, killings, in protection of her self, and others.

Her best friend is dead, yet her memory sticks to Clarice like glue, reminding her constantly of her failure. To protect her friend, or to discover she was in fact a serial murderer.

Behind the mask, Clarice is close to losing her mind.

Vivid hallucinations fuse with terrible reality, as she tries to stay alive.

In Chicago, there are five member of a domestic terrorist cell, called 'The Chosen'. Their aim: to destroy Starling. Four are dead.

One is not. And now, as the hands of the clock quiver between the last day, and the next, he stands over Starling; the barrel of his pistol pointed at her head.

He pulled the trigger…

(n i g h t)

Three seconds past midnight.

But it wasn't Dennis Hyde's gun.

Smoke blew from the barrel of Vaughn's pistol, as Hyde fell forwards, a large gaping hole now present in his shoulder. He screamed in pain, and pushed him self backwards, in an effort to regain his equilibrium. However, he had to compromise - his gun, or his balance.

The gun flew forward, and landed next to Clarice's torso. She lowered her hands, and picked it up. Before she could point it at Hyde, he had fled from the door, and she was aiming at fresh air.

"You okay?" said Clarice, still aiming at the door.

"I'm fine," said Vaughn, "Clarice, get after him."

Clarice nodded, and stepped out into the corridor, gingerly checking it before she went. It was empty, but she heard screams coming from the right. So, guess which way she went.

She paused at the corner, and peered around. Hyde was waiting for her, and fired two shots. Clarice threw herself backwards, and the corner of the corridor beside her disintegrated, plaster flying everywhere.

Where had he got the gun from?

Picking herself upwards, keeping her gun outstretched, she leapt round the corner, firing at the point Hyde had been. He was running down the corridor, but one of Clarice's bullets hit him, and he fell to the ground, twisting in mid-air, until he came to rest, laying on his back. He twitched, his hand reaching for his fallen gun, but Clarice raced towards him, and kicked it away.

"Who do you work for?" cried Clarice, "Who is Laurence Day?"

Hyde grinned, showing bloodied teeth: "I hate to be the cliché now, Starling, but I will tell you nothing. You know that as well as I. All I have to say, is that I very much look forward to seeing you in Hell."

"You believe that you would go there?" said Clarice, but Hyde refused to answer. He closed his eyes.

Half a moment later, he lunged towards her, and his gun. Reacting instinctively, she fired, shooting him through the mouth, then two bullets found their way to his brain. It was over in a second.

The Chosen in Chicago were gone.

Clarice remained, neck-deep in blood and death and hate and pain.

In Hell.

--

Wheezing heavily, still deeply winded, Vaughn had managed to make his way to Clarice. He looked down at the body of Hyde, and sighed:

"Clarice. It's over, Clarice. It's finished."

"Is it?" asked Clarice, "I'm beginning to wonder if it's even begun. This Laurence Day is still at large, and…Vaughn, it never ends. Ever."

Vaughn shook his head: "I hope you find peace, Clarice, I truly do. Backup's on the way, and hotel Security will guard the body. This floors been evacuated. Look, come away. You'll do no more good here."

Clarice nodded, and allowed herself to be led away, looking back one last time.

--

Later, with darkness still cloaking the city.

Clarice had been debriefing Director Tunberry for the past half-hour, and her throat was getting dry. Tunberry had been as polite as always, but there was something wrong. He was hesitant, unsure.

"Director…what is it? What's the matter?"

"Clarice, I hate to put this on you. Two thing are dreadfully wrong. It's Agent Irons, Clarice."

"Elias? What about him?"

"He's dead."

"What?"

"He died several days ago, the same with Agent Slater. It was Doctor Lecter, Clarice. He killed them both."

"Why the hell wasn't I told?"

"Because you were being pursued by a domestic terrorist group, and I didn't want you being distracted any more."

"That, Director, is unacceptable."

"I know…and I'm truly sorry. The second thing. Clarice, we want you to go to New York. There's been a murder, absolutely horrific. Occurred a few hours ago, the body's just been discovered. We haven't had time for forensics to be analysed, but we had a phone call, placed to Emergency Services. We still awaiting a match, but it mentions you Clarice. This so-called Witness wants you, and only you to protect him."

"Where is this Witness now?"

"We have no idea. We're still trying to locate him."

"When do you want me?"

"We've booked a flight, late this afternoon. I'll get the Chicago Field Office to pick up your tickets. I'm sorry, Clarice, I know you need a break. We need you to do this."

"I understand," said Clarice, coldly, "I'll call when I land."

--

How could it have come to this? As soon as one thing was over, another began. Bile, and fear rose in her, for she was scared. Broken down as she was, she felt terrified of what might come.

Looking out of the window, she saw an orange glow along the horizon.

Sol.

Dawn had come, on this miserable Sunday, the first she had seen for some time.

Looking around, a realisation dawned on her. The Chosen were gone. Their ultimatum, was now invalid.

Turning from her room, she ran out the door, and down the many stairs of the hotel.

--

(d a y)

Walking through the lobby, she swept back her long hair, and smiled. They hadn't taken the light of day away from her. She pushed open the doors, and stood, at the doorway to the Hotel, outside, in the fresh air.

Walking into the sun, she found that she was safe. At least, for now.

--

Chicago Airport

It is late afternoon, and Clarice had packed many hours ago. Her "vacation" had ended as quietly as it had begun. Shame about the mass death and destruction in between.

"Thankyou," said Clarice, looking at District Director Vaughn, "I owe you my life. Well, several times over!"

"That doesn't matter," said Vaughn, "but please just be careful. It is foolhardy of the Bureau to place you again in the field so soon. I would hate for anything to happen to you."

They shook hands gladly, both parties forever changed.

"Goodbye," said Clarice softly. Vaughn just nodded, put his hands in his pockets, and walked away, to his car.

Clarice turned, and picked up her bags, heading towards check-in. It would be many hours before her plane left, but she had wanted to be early. Just in case.

--

Unknown Location; New York

The room was in utter darkness. The only indication that there was somebody here, was the quiet sound of breathing.

The click of a telephone receiver being picked up sounded, and numbers were dialled. The caller was ringing Chicago. When there was a reply, a beep sounded…an electronic filter being switched on.

"You know why I am calling?" the harsh metallic voice said.

"Of course," said the masculine voice on the other end, "I'm not an idiot, you know. Is New York ready?"

"Yes. As you will be aware, the first murder was committed last night. The next will be tonight. Is she in the air?"

"If you are referring to Clarice Starling, then she should be in the plane right now," said FBI District Director Vaughn, "the two minor players are with you now, and the three agents you sent here are all dead. Just as you predicted."

"Necessary sacrifices," said Laurence Day, the leader of the Chosen, "and now the moth is flying towards the flame."

The leader put the receiver down, and sighed heavily. The events that had been put into motion would be difficult.

The war was coming; and the Day was determined to win.

--

High Above Chicago

Clarice Starling leaned her bruised, burnt and battered body back in her chair, her eyelids slowly closing. The sun would set soon enough and she had to be ready for it.

As she looked out of the window, onto the city of Chicago, the last thing she saw before losing consciousness, were that dark clouds had begun to gather…

fini

Note: Finished. I am both extremely glad, and extremely sad to write that. Yet, it means one thing: we're merging! That is, as soon as Her Burning Heart is finished. Then I suppose, I would like to take a small break from Hannibal fan fiction, to work on some of my other (rather neglected) pieces. Then, I will be back with the concluding story of the series, set in New York. As to this story, I would like to thank: Penelope S. Cartwright, Nanci, EvilspyAchacia, doctor katy, and Starling Clarice M. for all your help and support with this story. I hope you enjoyed it, and 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 (that includes links) without my express written permission. Thankyou!

JetNoir