IV

Your soul is haunting me

I drove fast. My hands desperately clung to the steering wheel while I tried not to exceed the speed limit. This really was not the time to get arrested. On my right, Hannibal looked at the road straight ahead.

"Where are we going?" He asked, breaking the heavy silence in the overheated interior of the car.

"You know very well, so don't try to make conversation." I rebuffed him.

He did not take offense.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?"

"Maybe you have a better one?" I answered.

"One. But I'd prefer to wait and see what you'll do." He answered, comfortably sinking a little deeper into his seat.

"Obviously." I whispered.

It couldn't be any other way.

...

Some time passed, without him attempting further discussion. The tension between us was becoming palpable, when suddenly the ringing of a phone tore through the silence, almost making me lose control of the vehicle. As I steadied our course, Hannibal did not move. But seeing that I was not attempting to answer, he spoke again.

"It cannot be my phone, because I have none."

And then I remembered having pocketed my own, with my wallet and my keys, before locking my clothes in the cabinet with Richard's body. Without taking my eyes off the road, I searched my pockets with one hand, not letting go of the wheel until I found the device.

"It's Jack." I mumbled, more to myself than to inform my passenger.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins again, but to not answer would be suspect. I pressed the green button and glued the phone to my ear.

"Jack." I simply said.

In a calm and concise voice, he summed up what I already knew. I pretended to listen without interrupting him before feigning surprise.

"Where are you?" He asked me.

I had to improvise, and as any good lie is always composed of a certain percentage of veracity, I decided to go for a half-truth.

"Nowhere in particular. Molly left me this morning." Hannibal winced, but I paid him no attention. It was complicated enough to drive and think simultaneously. "I've been driving around aimlessly. I needed some air. And, to be honest, I would appreciate if you'd stay out of this."

"You do know he's gonna come for you, right?" He warned me.

"I will worry about that when I have him in front of me." I replied, inflexible. "Molly and Walter are with her family, there's nobody home. Besides, if someone could come and take care of the dogs ..."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I don't know how long I'm gonna be gone, Jack. You can do that for me."

"I didn't mean that, Will! I'm talking about your lack of interest in the case! He killed three employees, for Christ's sake!"

"Do you know how he did it?" I preferred to ask, to stop this verbal duel and collect some information.

"The early evidence suggests that he had a partner in crime. Perhaps the guard, since he was the only one with the keys. The other two were certainly in his way. The uniform of the man, Richard Frost, was stolen and replaced with civilian clothes. The accomplice would have disguised himself to go unnoticed or, if he was the security guard, he would have given the uniform to Hannibal, for the same reason. The clothes we found are at the lab along with the guard's weapon. We are still looking for the knife that was used to kill the young woman. We are spoiled for choice in kitchens. This bastard even took the time to do the dishes before going out the window. We will know more soon, I think."

I followed the flow of information, both positive and negative, realizing that I would not stay above suspicion much longer. My DNA would be on my clothes, my fingerprints on the Glock. I had been careless while executing my design. But I would be forgiven, wouldn't I? I was not a experienced killer! Unlike Mr. Smirk. I had to end this conversation quickly.

"Keep me informed. I'll let you know when I will be ... " I glanced at Hannibal " ... inclined to come back. "

Jack sighed.

"I'm sorry about Molly. You should try to talk to her. I am sure that the situation is not irreversible." He said awkwardly.

"Yeah ... I will see. I'm driving, I have to hang up." I cut him off, while our location still would not betray our destination.

"See you later and be careful."

I hung up without replying and opened the window, before throwing my phone outside. I vaguely heard the noise of the device hitting the road, then closed the window quickly to keep out the cold. Once they'd realized the extent of my involvement, they would use the GPS position on my phone so I could not keep it around. I also ought to change cars as soon as possible. Still silent, Hannibal pressed his head against the window and remained focused on the landscape. He made no comment during the rest of the journey, as if he was plunged into his thoughts.

...

When the tires hit the dirt road that led to Wolf Trap, Hannibal seemed to come out of his lethargy. He sat up in his seat and I peered into the night pierced by the headlights, to finally see my old home. I parked a few meters from the entrance and went out without delay, before climbing the porch and opening the door.

Inside, the cold air smelled musty with dust, but the familiar outlines of some furniture that I had left behind immediately reassured me. Behind me, Hannibal walked in, and I lit a lamp and focused on a dresser where some of my clothes still remained. While being fully aware of his presence in my back, I hastily rummaged through the drawers to find what I wanted, before giving it to him with a certain amount of sadistic glee: an old red plaid shirt and jeans that had seen better days. He froze, his look traveling between my face and the clothes hanging out of my hand. A corner of his upper lip slightly raised in an expression of disgust and I swallowed quickly, before clearing my throat to stifle the giggle that threatened to well up.

"I have nothing better to offer you." I told him. "We cannot linger here. You know the way to the bathroom." I added, pushing the clothes at him without asking his permission.

He sighed and went to the bathroom. When he disappeared, I hurried to look for something to dress myself in, before undressing. In underwear, biting cold made me shiver and I hurried to put on pants before returning a drawer in search of a belt. Then I saw a shadow out of the corner of my eye, and jumped involuntarily. Hannibal stood in the doorway, one shoulder leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on me. Heat invaded my cheeks while I wondered how long he had been looking at me, and I suddenly felt the need to cover myself. I gave up the idea of finding something to keep the jeans from sliding off my hips and snatched up a white shirt and a gray sweater, before swiftly pulling them on. It was only then that I took the time to observe him more carefully. And I wanted to strike him. Because apparently, no getup, no matter how hideous, was capable of fully erasing his naturally imposing presence. The unbuttoned sleeves were rolled up on his forearms, two buttons were open at the neck and in the back the shirt fell slightly too low around his narrow hips. The seams of the shoulders were stretched by his bulk, which was wider than mine. He looked like a lumberjack about to go to work. A bourgeois lumberjack, certainly, but still. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't find him ridiculous.

"What is our next destination?" He suddenly asked me, while I put shoes on to give an impression of composure.

"You ask that like we would run away together somewhere."

Without answering, He gave me a small smile which persuaded me, that indeed, he really thought of it. And I became very angry. In two steps, I was on him, grabbed his collar and pinned him to the nearest wall.

"Do you really think I imagine myself sunbathing on a Brazilian beach with you? After what you did to Molly and Walter. That you attack me and that I forgive you, it's my problem. But they have nothing to do with it." I snarled, a few centimeters from his mouth. "The next step? You are going to lead me to the Dragon, since you know who he is. And when I get rid of him, I'll deal with you." I added, crushing him a little more against the wall.

His smile became more pronounced, as if the perspective delighted him.

"I look forward to seeing which one of you two will be victorious, and how you plan to deal with me, Will," he whispered.

The concealed allusion was only fueling my anger, and my hands squeezed up around his throat.

"Last time I checked, I wasn't gay, Hannibal."

"Neither was Alana" He scathingly replied, without missing a beat.

"It has nothing to do with it. Nobody can really blame her for not wanting another man to touch her, after you" I spat, tightening my grip.

"Maybe she's afraid of never finding a better lover somewhere else..." He articulated with difficulty.

And I released him abruptly, before moving back, not feeling the heat of his body against mine anymore.

"No ..." I said, opening a cupboard to take out a large bag. "You're many things, but certainly not someone who brags openly about anything." I opened the zipper with a snap. "You say that just to provoke me, manipulate me. But it won't happen." I continued, stuffing extra clothes into the bag with angry movements.

He pushed off from the wall, before adjusting his clothes and rubbing his neck.

"And what will you do next?"

"Next? I would find out a way to blame it all on you. You will not be there to challenge it. And I think that nobody will blame me for having freed the world from Hannibal Lecter." I concluded before pushing him aside, to enter the bathroom

Haphazardly, I threw toiletries into the bag, with the back of my hand. Toothbrush, toothpaste, disposable razor and shower gel. Then I turned to a cabinet behind me to take two towels before closing the bag and hoisting it onto my shoulder.

"There's no evidence linking me to the murders of the hospital employees. Unlike you. And you know that very well." He told me, while I passed in front of him to head for the front door, turning off the light in the process.

"I would just say that you forced me to kill them, to get you out of there." I replied, standing still by the door.

"And how would you explain your presence? How did I force you to open my cell, Will? Your story doesn't add up. You'll end your life in prison."

"And what should I do, according to you?" I smirked, turning to him.

"Let me help you." He whispered in the darkness.

An incongruous laughter shook my shoulders and I couldn't control it. But it was not sincere.

"Help me?" I repeated, between two jolts. "You're really imagining this Brazilian beach scenario will happen, don't you?"

"I was thinking Argentina. But we still have a little time to think about it." He dared to answer.

"Us? But, there is no us, Hannibal, dammit!" I became enraged. And my voice echoed in the empty house.

He was silent for a few endless seconds.

"Very good. I will lead you to Francis." He agreed. And it took me a while to understand who he meant.

Without adding anything, as if he had temporarily abandoned the idea of predicting what would happen next, he passed me on his way to the exit, opened the front door and rushed into the dark night. Silently, I followed him.