"And so the last, pitched phase of the descent began, a voyage into the depths as bad in its way as anything Dante had imagined. But there would be no beatific visions at the end, Theo felt bleakly certain. No shining city. Only the endless white corridors of the hospital ward."
The War of the Flowers by Tad Williams
HER BURNING HEART
The Story of Lilia
Derevko by JetNoir
Note: Here is the third and final year of Lilia's medical education. As I wrote briefly last chapter, this chapter is going to continue the theme of tragedy. There is also a scene which may upset some people, so I'm warning you now. Contains themes of a possible suicide.
CHAPTER ELEVEN - Lock and Key (Part Three)
The Summer Holiday - Revenant and The Organisation
Moscow
All around the world, the Roses were blooming much later than usual, but a thick cloud hung over Russia. For Lilia Derevko, this return to the Rodina was welcomed greatly, but couldn't ease her mind.
Lost in the grey mist. It seemed appropriate somehow.
Walking down the main street, her feet clattering on the stone pavement, she cast her mind towards tomorrow. A reunion, of sorts. Tomorrow she would be in St Petersburg. She would have gone sooner, had she the opportunity. Of course, she couldn't. Still…
The bookshop a few streets ahead was her destination, a place she was always drawn towards. She had always found it strange, the way she felt so at home there. The smell of paper, the feel of the books. It was something she couldn't quite describe. It was a place of peace - and that was something her violent soul couldn't always understand.
--
Shifting the newly-bought books in her arms around, Lilia fumbled for her hotel key. Sliding it into the door, she twisted the handle, and entered the room, gently dumping the books on the bed. Twisting around, she went to the door, and shut it behind her.
Looking down, it was when she first saw the letter…and what was written on the front.
To Revenant.
In utter shock, Lilia dropped the envelope; and then, getting a hold of herself, she picked it up, and went to sit on the bed.
To the person known as Revenant,
it read:
Firstly, do not be alarmed, for we do not know who you are. The Russian postal service is a magical place indeed. A mystery to many people.
Let our intentions be known, we need a killer. You are a killer. Therefore, we might be able to help each other.
Revenant, you are lost. Let us help you find yourself.
We will write again.
The Organisation.
--
At first, Lilia ignored the letter, burning it, and settling back on her bed, and reading well into the night.
The next day, she arrived at St. Petersburg, to be greeted by a grateful Anna. Both Mother and Daughter were overjoyed to see each other, and wasted no time catching up. But Lilia was distracted, and although Anna noticed it she said nothing.
Lilia was puzzled by the bizarre letter. Magical postal service? They were lucky if they even delivered. Yet it had found her. Would they write again. Her mother was not a fool, and Lilia would be deeply ashamed if Anna were to find out. Was ashamed to shallow? Lilia knew she would be more than ashamed.
Heartbroken.
--
Hermitage Park; St. Petersburg
It had always been one of her favourite haunts when she was a child, and now Lilia found refuge in the shadow of the museum. Darkness had fallen quickly over the city tonight, and she was out in the dark with all the monsters. Like herself.
She hated the self-loathing she was going through…but wasn't that itself a contradiction? She shook her head. Tonight wasn't the time to deal with her problems. She placed her hand down hard on the seat - but it didn't come down on wood. The paper was slightly damp, but very real. Panic coursed through her veins, she didn't know how to react. How were you meant to react?
By the light of the full moon, she read who it was addressed to:
Revenant, Hermitage Park
Inside was a brief, curt letter, asking her (extremely politely) to murder two people on their behalf.
She was indeed lost.
--
After considering it carefully over the next three nights, Lilia decided that she must comply. So reluctantly, she set about her task.
--
18th September 1994
University Hospital; Washington D.C.
She felt different.
Sitting in the same seat, with admittedly a different teacher before her. Could it only have been a year? Where had it gone?
Now was she just a common assassin? She wanted to heal people! She was sick of all the wretched questions! Her fragmented mind was drifting further and further apart. James smiled at her from across the room, but she could no longer comprehend, it was just too much, too much and…
"Greetings," said the woman in the white coat, "my name is Doctor Feist. I'll be taking over for Doctor Willis for the next few months. As you've heard, he has gone missing recently, and we are hoping…and indeed praying, for his swift, safe return. This term, we will be dealing with the brain, it's psychological elements, physical, and forensics. And for those of you pursuing Doctorates, don't forget, board exams in December, and you're dissertation must be in by May."
Dr Willis? Missing? For once, that has nothing to do with me.
"…so let's get started. If you'll turn to page one hundred, seventeen, we'll begin."
Again? Starting again. When will this end. What am I doing here? Why did I ever leave Russia?
--
20th October 1994
Romania
Lilia looked around at the cold countryside and reminded herself why she still did this. She had been an assassin for some months, yet had not been called again, until three days ago. Her Aunt had been nothing short of flabbergasted.
"You're doing WHAT?"
"I'm, on my break Aunt," said Lilia, "I have to help a friend."
"IN ROMANIA? SINCE WHEN DID YOU KNOW ANY ROMANIANS?"
"I'm not going to argue with you Auntie. I'm leaving now."
And she did leave. Winona was of course unhappy, but she didn't really have a choice in the matter.
So now, Lilia was standing in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, next to a small house.
Please kill her: was what the note had read, polite and distant and cold. It also had instructions as to where to find this girl. In Romania.
Lilia sighed, and fingered her harpy. She knew that there was no time like the present.
--
The lock was extremely simple to snap, and she crept in to the darkened room. She had watched the house all day, and all she could discern was the target, who seemed to live alone.
When in the girl's bedroom, Lilia changed her mind. She was fighting back tears, for up close the girl was far younger than she had been lead to believe. She was as old as Lilia. Little more than a child.
"No," snarled Lilia quietly, "no. I won't do this." She turned to the door, her escape route in place.
Her efforts were in vain however. She refused to kill for this 'Organisation' again. But the girl was brutally murdered, and her death attributed to Revenant.
The internal politics of The Organisation were at that time in a state of flux, and one operative had disobeyed orders. As a punishment - and as a message, the upper hierarchy ordered his sister's death. His sister was the girl in Romania. When Lilia refused, The Organisation sent their own assassin. Of course they were not happy, but by their own admission, they did not know Lilia's true identity - so they were powerless to pursue.
Now, when the brother volunteered to find Revenant, during the murders in Washington, D.C. (in the present day) he met his death at the hands of Dr Hannibal Lecter, who himself was posing as Revenant at the time.
Confused? Believe me, so was Lilia.
That was the end of Lilia's involvement with The Organisation. She swore never to come so close to entrapment again. It was not so easy, as the rest of the year would prove; but to Lilia's credit, to that ideal she remained true.
--
18th November 1994
MISSING DOCTOR FOUND IN AUSTRALIA
J. Noir
Special Correspondent for The Washington Post
Doctor Willis, of the Washington, D.C. University Hospital was today located after a frantic search. Willis went missing during the summer, and when he didn't return from his holiday in Mexico, colleagues grew concerned. He refuses to state why he was in another country, and only responded after seeing a news bulletin. He apologise for the worry he has places on people, and is eager to return to work. University Hospital are currently debating whether to let him back.
--
4th December 1994
University Hospital; Washington, D.C.
With a triumphant (and rather unnecessary) flourish, Lilia flung down her pen, leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and sighed contentedly. She had finished.
She also knew that she had passed - it couldn't be any other way. The Boards exam was finished, and in the middle of a sea of scribbling pens, she floated, content.
"Excuse me," came a soft whisper from beside her, "there's still another hour of the test."
"I know, Doctor Willis," Lilia whispered back, "but I am completely finished."
"Very well," whispered Dr Willis, "but I'm afraid I can't let you go yet."
"I'm aware of that."
"Good. Hope you did well."
He moved on, and Lilia resumed her former position. Floating, bobbing on an empty sea. Finished.
--
25th December 1994
Home of Winona Davies, and Lilia Derevko; Washington, D.C.
Tucked inside Lilia's Christmas card was the following letter:
Dearest Lilia,
I hate to write this for you to read this day. I'm a coward at heart - I know that. But frankly, I don't know what to do.
I'm worried about you, Lilia. You've grown distant over the past year. We were once so close. I know it is hard, with your Insomnia, and what seems to me, depression. I just want to help.
I love you, Lilia. There, I've said it (or rather, written it). You have to know that. If you never want to see my face again, then just tell me. But if you want me to be a part of your life, then please, please let me in. I'll do anything and everything I can.
Please, have a very happy, restful Christmas, and give my love to your Aunt.
James.
"Oh, what a fool I've been," whispered Lilia, the letter cluttered in her hand. It was just past lunch, snow was falling outside, and Winona was snoring beside a rather large snifter of brandy. Well, it was Christmas after all.
Lilia felt serene, and possible for the first time realised what she had put James through. Running to the kitchen, she grabbed a notepad and pen, and swiftly wrote:
Auntie W,
Gone to James'.
Love, L.
--
With the letter still clutched in her hand, and her coat forgotten in the hall, she flew out into the snow, and cold.
Rushing through the deserted streets, alone, small tears springing from her eyes, she soon reached James's small house. Taking a deep breath, (even though she was out of breath), she reached out and rang the doorbell. After a second, she impatiently hammered on the door for good measure.
She was still knocking when James opened it - and for a few moments she knocked on thin air.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi," replied James. And that was all that was said. There was no need for anything more. Lilia grabbed James, and he, her. They stood, immobile, embraced in each others arms for what seemed like millennia.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, "it feels like I've been through hell. But I'm out again.
--
January - March 1995
The next three months were perhaps the happiest of Lilia's short life. She and James spent every waking hour by each other's side. Lilia started rotating in the hospital, as did the other students, and her job as nurse was getting easier. In February, she began the last rotation - in the ER. She was nearing the end of her education, and of her 'professional years'. It was all going so well.
If it just hadn't been for the detective.
--
18th March 1995
University Hospital; Washington, D.C.
The detective in question: Detective Raymond Green stamped out his cigarette, and with a paper held over his head to ward off the rain, hurried through the doors.
He scratched his straggly beard, and headed up to the reception.
"Can I help you?" asked the hassled nurse.
"Hi. My name is Raymond Green, I'm with the D. C. P. D. I need to speak with whoever's in charge. And can we please do it quietly."
The nurse looked up, and seeing his I. D. she raised an eyebrow.
"As quickly and quietly as possible, please," Green said.
The nurse let Green in, and told him to wait while she went to find a Dr Willis.
--
"Can I help you?" asked a young woman, who had a Russian accent.
"Doctor Willis? My name is Detective Green." He stopped when she held up a hand.
"My name is Lilia Derevko," said Lilia, "I'm a medical student. I saw that you were here, and wondered if you needed help. Could I ask why you're here?"
"Ma'am. I need to take one of your patients into custody, and I don't want to draw attention. It's about the Revenant case."
"What!" said Lilia, starting. Green looked at her oddly:
"Guilty conscience?" he said grinning.
"Something like that," she murmured, "who were you looking for?"
"Doctor Willis."
"I'll go get him," said Lilia.
--
James walked out of the door, a bundle of files in his hands. He had heard and seen everything. He didn't know what to think - why should he? - but somewhere in his mind, suspicions were raised.
--
1st April 1995
3rd Precinct; Washington, D.C.
"We have no more leads," said Detective Green, "the guy in the ER was clean. We have no forensics, nothing. I'm sorry Commander…but for now we have to close the case."
"Until this 'Revenant' kills again. Isn't there anything we can do?"
"Bump it up to the Feds. Their behavioural science section might find something. They're better equipped than us anyway."
"Alright Detective. You did your best. Lets see what the Bureau comes up with."
Of course, the case wouldn't be solved until the present day, by FBI Special Agent Clarice Starling. But that, of course, comes much later.
--
Home of Winona Davies and Lilia Derevko; Washington, D.C.
For Lilia, this day would alternately be the one of the best and one of the worst of her life. She had heard the news, that her case would be dropped by the Police. Her Aunt had just come home, looking rather distracted. The time is seven minutes past noon.
"Lilia," said Winona. Lilia looked up, and Winona continued speaking: "Lilia, I'm feeling rather tired. Would you mind if I go and take a nap?"
"Course not," said Lilia, "I'll cook tea if you want."
Winona smiled: "That'd be lovely."
--
When Winona had gone upstairs, Lilia realised that they had very little in. She didn't want to disturb her Aunt, and so decided to go and grab some money, and head to the local supermarket.
Realising also that she had no money, she went to her Aunt's bag, and got ten dollars. As she was putting Winona's purse back into the bag, she noticed a small leaflet. Curious, she reached in, and picked it out.
How to deal with Cancer.
Disbelieving at first, Lilia put it back in, as if it had never been touched. Quietly, she went to do the shopping as if nothing had happened.
Silently she grieved, and later, in private, she wept and howled. She never let her Aunt know she knew, and Winona lived for two more years. But Lilia told James…although he seemed a little distracted. And it was because of James' distraction that Winona never told Lilia she was ill.
They say Life moves in a circle, but terrifyingly, so does Death.
--
9th April 1995
Home of James Wilkins; Washington, D.C.
11:57 p.m.
"You've been rather quiet this evening," said Lilia, "is anything the matter?"
Lilia was with James, in his brightly coloured bedroom, while James parents stayed at a friends. It was meant to be some time alone for the pair. And surprisingly, that scared James.
"Yes," said James, "something is the matter, Lilia. Something's wrong. It's been a horrible week. I know that it has been hard for you, what with your Aunt and all. But over the past eight days. I've learned the truth."
"Truth?" said Lilia, "Truth about what?" She looked startled as tears began to stream uncontrollably down James' face.
"The world," he said, "I've learned the truth about the world. About the depths of human cruelty. Of sadism." His face grew more wretched: "The truth about what I love. Loved. Love. I learned the truth about you, Lilia."
"What are you talking about?" she asked.
"I KNOW!" he screamed.
--
10th April 1995
Midnight.
"Know what?" said Lilia, "James. I'm confused." She started to get up, but stopped when she saw James pointing a gun at her head.
"James," she said, her voice cautious, and a little scared, "James, put the gun down. What are you doing?"
"Shush," said James, tears still falling, his heart broken like a stained-glass window, "Lilia, let me take you on a journey. One that no-one else has yet discovered. Your father worked for the Mafia, as a murderer, until your mother shot and killed him defending you in 1986. A year earlier, the first 'Revenant' murder was committed. In St Petersburg, where you lived. You were ten years old. In '86, you came to the States, to live with your Aunt. The next murder was in '89, a homeless man. Witnesses claimed a young girl was a few streets away, but they were dismissed as irrelevant. No forensics. Next at your school, a foreign exchange student in '91. That's the one they blamed on rats. The city banker a year later. Then, last summer, the two people in Russia, when you were there. Finally, a girl in Romania. It happened in the two days that you were there. Jesus Christ, Lilia. What are you? Why?"
"I really have no-"
"No!" said James, "No excuses. Don't you dare lie to me. It was you, Lilia. You did that to all those people."
"I never killed the Romanian girl," said Lilia, herself now crying, defeated, "and the first guy in Russia. When I was ten. He…he was going to rape me. I killed him. And I just couldn't stop." She looked up: "Do you have any idea how much I loathe myself? How much I despise what I've become. You've kept me sane, James. You've helped me so much."
"Hell," spat James, "I didn't keep you sane enough. And you didn't despise yourself enough to turn yourself in." He put his hands on his head and groaned softly.
"How did you find out, James?" asked Lilia quietly.
"Eight days ago. When you talked to that detective. It was your reaction. I know you, Lilia. At least I thought I did. Something seemed wrong…and I couldn't let it go. I had to know; one way or the other."
"Eight days," said Lilia, laughing bitterly, "you solved it in eight days. You chose the wrong profession. You should have been a detective."
"Yeah," said James, "and then I'll have never met you. That would have been for the best."
Lilia's face was wounded, and she closed her eyes.
"So what are you going to do?" she asked.
"Simple," said James, "it's so simple. I'm not going to tell anyone. I'll keep it secret. What you choose to do is between you and your conscience."
"James," she wept, "I love you."
"The love of a murderer. What is that worth? I don't know, Lilia. That's the truth. Where we go from here, I leave to you."
--
Several minutes later, their was a gunshot. It reverberated loudly and coldly, with no respect, throughout the house.
--
A minute after that, a hysterical Lilia called James' parents, and then the authorities. The police arrived within five minutes; and James' parents, not too long after that.
--
Due to James' depressed state of mind (according to his parents), forensic evidence and Lilia's testimonial, the Washington, D.C. Coroners Court returned a verdict of death by suicide, on the 12th of April 1995.
James had made no record of his accusations. The truth died with him.
No one in the world, but Lilia, knew what took place in those minutes…or indeed whether James' death was suicide; murder; or some bizarre accident. She alone knew that.
--
They say that information is the lock and key for the future.
After these events, Lilia had little interest in the future. But several months later, she received a letter from an old friend. The one who sent her down this path.
Lilia Derevko was about to leave education, and enter the world. Doctor Hannibal Lecter was very interested in what might occur there.
--
Note: Firstly, I'd like to apologise, as Lilia's discover of her Aunt's illness, is extremely similar to a scene in Tad Williams' novel The War of the Flowers. I'm afraid it was the only way I could make my scene work.
This has been the most difficult, heartwrenching and harrowing chapter I have ever had to write. 39 pages, and 10,262 words later, Lock and Key is finally over. At which point you say 'So why did you write it then?' My answer is simply this - this is how the story is meant to be. This was the story I devised. And as I have quite clearly stated, it is a Tragedy. However, my playing about with chronology is wreaking havoc with continuity, and I think it just about hangs together. From the moment I began to write James Wilkins (who was originally to be called Tom; but decided against because Lilia's first boyfriend was Tommy), I knew that his character had to die. Bizarrely enough, I had envisioned him being caught in the crossfire of a bank robbery (don't ask); but in the middle of writing the previous few chapters, I settled on the confrontation. Did James commit suicide? Did Lilia murder him? Was it a tragic accident? In short, I myself have no idea. Sometimes I believe such things are best left unanswered. I only hope that I haven't offended anyone with the content - it wasn't intentional, and I have dealt with suicide before (though I'm not entirely sure anyone actually read it!). So, I hoped you enjoyed it, and please review.
The Future of Her Burning Heart: Just to let you know, the next four chapters, will continue the story of 1995 (it's a very busy year), up until the Christmas events of Chapter 7 - then the two concluding chapters will take us from '95 to the millennium, and of course the events of Lessons.
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