WELCOME BACK TO NO MORE A SAVAGE LIFE: CHAPTER TWO

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HANNIBAL BOUND

Hannibal rushed as quickly as possible to the injured woman's side his arms flung wide swinging the bags filled with life-saving medical supplies. The elderly woman was unconscious on the pavement with her small dog circling in a panic beside her. Hannibal worried that it might wander into the road so he tied the leash to his medical supply bag as it was too heavy for the tiny animal to drag.

Hannibal assessed the situation. It appeared as if someone had attempted to steal his neighbor's purse. The good doctor believed she must have had the bag slung across her chest though it was now wrapped around her throat. He lifted her gently and removed the bag to ease the pressure on her in injury. He was careful to maintain support of her neck in the event of spinal cord involvement.

Hannibal's mind began to process all of the information available considering every aspect of her situation that he might accurately assess her needs.

The attacker probably attempted to pull the bag over her head. She has a bloody rash on the side of her face and the fabric of her coat is torn. She must been dragged a fair distance and was strangled by her bag…there is edema… deep bruising… her airway has all but closed off.

Hannibal reached into his first aid kit and located the trache tube. He tore it out of the plastic seal and placed it momentarily on his neighbor's chest. Though she was attempting to breathe, the swelling from her injuries prevented her from receiving the proper amount of oxygen. She was fighting for her life, the strider whistling within her signaled the extensive damage. In spite of her tiny body's herculean efforts to keep her alive, she was beginning to turn blue.

A crowd had begun to gather giving Hannibal some cause for concern. He looked up quickly to assess the safety of the situation. His eyes flashed with the intensity of his efforts and the tiny pinpoints of red swirling from his irises flew toward the blackness of his pupils. His eyes appeared to glow.

The flash of his distinctive orbs caused instantaneous recognition and a surge of respectful fear among the assemblage. The hissed warnings simmered and bubbled through the crowd much like a heated pot slowly rolls to a boil. It became known very quickly by this whispered word of mouth that Doctor Hannibal Lecter was treating the woman. Upon reception of this fact it was as if the group had taken a deep collective breath and held their inhalations. Terrified, they began to step back one by one to assure a safe distance moving very slowly away drifting from him the way an outgoing tide moves from the shore.

They don't have a name for what he is.

The area was now overrun with a swarm of onlookers. Up to this point only one police vehicle had reached the scene. Hannibal's instincts were functioning on overdrive as the continuous release of adrenaline and endorphins rapidly flooded his system. He was now hyperaware as his assessment of the incoming stimuli warned the situation was now extremely volatile.

Reporters launched themselves from satellite trucks like rats through a sewer pipe, the distinctive slide of the van doors marking their exits, cameras already rolling.

Hannibal was surrounded by possible threats, the danger to him very real though his only concern was the frail woman who had been so welcoming to him. He had taken many lives. This was a life he intended to restore.

Clarice was oblivious to Hannibal's precarious situation as she tended to the victim's husband though when she heard the squeal of tires and the wail of sirens she realized he was unprotected. The concerned wife ran to the control panel located in the foyer. Clarice quickly pressed several buttons, checked a small monitor and when she was certain she had accomplished her task, returned to Mr. Wagner.

Don't worry H…I've got you covered.

Hannibal tore off his suit jacket and rolled it. He very carefully wrapped the rolled material around his neighbor's neck in order to secure her spine, elevate her head and tilt it slightly to more fully expose her throat to him.

He then palpated the area and identified the indentations between the woman's tiny Adam's apple and the Cricoid cartilage. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his Harpy. When he thumbed the blade and snapped his wrist away from his body to open it a spontaneous gasp rose from the crowd.

Someone from within the crowd screamed, "He's got that goddamned knife. Stop him."

A large policeman with too much testosterone and too few brains, obviously unconcerned that backup had yet to arrive moved from his vehicle and began to push his way through the center of the crowd. The officer surged forward with utter disregard for the crowd as he tossed bystanders quickly from his path wholly unconcerned as to the assaultive nature of his movements.

The intense wave of sudden scent displacement created as the man bullied his way through the masses caused Hannibal to raise an eyebrow and shift his attention from the injured woman to the crowd.

There is danger.

Hannibal immediately identified the looming threat. Still the doctor nursed the hope that the officer might recognize his obvious attempts to triage and treat the gravely ill woman. He hoped the policeman might halt his aggressive momentum though Hannibal's hopes were for naught.

The very moment Hannibal moved to pierce the elderly woman's throat with the tip of the Harpy he heard the man call out, "Doctor Lecter, move away from your victim and put your weapon on the ground. Do it without any sudden movement and kick it away from your body. Next, unless you feel like taking a bullet you need to hit the deck face down and lace your fingers on top of your head. Do it now!"

"She is not my victim she is my patient and she will die if you interrupt her treatment," Hannibal explained calmly as he extended his hands, palms forward in an obviously non-threatening gesture.

"Officer, please allow me to proceed as she cannot breathe and I'm attempting to secure an airway. She is my neighbor and a friend. I would never do anything to hurt her."

Hannibal's effort to calm served to have the opposite effect. The officer was now enraged, his arms extended with his gun drawn. His eyes were fixed on Hannibal as he continued to move forward.

Hannibal placed the Harpy beside the injured woman and laced his fingers on top of his head. The officer, now emboldened, obviously played to the cameras. He grabbed Hannibal by the shoulders and though no aggressive movements had been made, tossed him over his hip thus sending Hannibal's shoulders slamming flat against the cold cement sidewalk.

The collision and subsequent roll caused the older man to smash the side of his head onto the pavement opening a cut above his left cheek. The wound, though not very large, bled profusely and painted Hannibal's Italian silk shirt crimson curiously matching his irises.

Hannibal scrambled to his feet to see the large man beckoning with a wave, a gesture Hannibal assumed signaled he would welcome a fight. Hannibal repeated his intention though it was now tempered with an underlying threat.

"I beg you, she doesn't have much time. I am not seeking to harm. You are preventing me from assisting a woman that I care for. I assure you I will no longer tolerate the interruption as she is in a grave circumstance."

"Yeah I'm not lettin' you kill the poor old thing."

With his gun still drawn, the foolish officer once again approached.

Never forget what he is.

Hannibal waited until the man was within his striking distance knowing that the officer, not accustomed to dealing with him, would underestimate his speed and range. Hannibal bowed his head and stooped his shoulders assuming a submissive position thus giving the officer a false impression that he would again surrender.

Using his peripheral vision Hannibal waited patiently poised until he assessed the distance was sufficient enough to achieve the desired effect. Hannibal then vaulted toward the officer with mind bending speed, grasped the weapon and disarmed him. Hannibal ended the standoff with a twisting right cross that landed squarely on the cop's jaw. The man's head snapped to the side, the force of the blow sending him crumbling to the pavement.

The crowd surged, surrounding Hannibal the pressing scent of their fear amused him. Sensing no presence of aggression, he ignored the crush of the mob dismissing their intent.

Fully understanding the power of his past, at the moment he retrieved the Harpy, Hannibal flashed a look of warning toward the crowd as he snapped the blade open. The sight of Hannibal Lecter holding the instrument of such utter destruction, his beloved Harpy, was more than enough incentive to discourage further acts of misplaced bravery.

Hannibal did not check to see if the officer was unconscious. At the moment he touched the man's chin he was certain of the outcome. He returned to Mrs. Warden, inserted his Harpy into the hole he had initiated and carefully rocked the point of the blade into the flesh creating a very neat half-inch horizontal incision directly into the Cricothyroid membrane.

Hannibal used his right hand to pinch the area and slightly purse the opening. He then inserted the index finger of his left hand to spread open the tissue and allow access for the trache tube. There was little blood so Hannibal took the small plastic tube and twisted it into the opening. He worked it gently within until it rested an inch deep inside her body.

When he was certain the tube had been accurately placed and was indeed secure, Hannibal lowered his head and breathed two very quick exhalations into the tube with his head angled that he might monitor the rise and fall of her chest. He paused several seconds and repeated the action. Again, he paused momentarily. Finally he could hear the woman breathing through the tube on her own. Upon intake the color returned to her face.

Hannibal lifted his medical kit and the bag with the first aid supplies, turned, and walked toward his home with the Wagner's tiny dog skipping along beside him. He staggered for a step or two Clarice opened the door to help him.

"The Warden's dog was left alone to fend for itself. I could not leave it to wander into the road. I'm afraid we will have to care for it until they are well enough to attend to it."

"No problem, H. I'll sort it out."

Just as Hannibal stumbled back from Mrs. Warden the paramedics arrived and removed Mr. Warden from the home. Clarice assisted and when the elderly gentleman had been safely transported, she returned to her husband.

"What the fuck happened, H?" she asked with obvious concern.

"I'm getting far too old for this that's what happened, Clarice."

"Don't be such a wise ass you know what I mean."

"It would seem one of the members of the Baltimore Police Department didn't agree with my treatment plan of Mrs. Warden therefore I was forced to enlighten him. No doubt his friends have by now found him face down in the street so please prepare yourself Clarice. I am certain we will soon have company."

"Don't worry, H. We can handle this."

There was a pounding on the outside door as their doorbell was disregarded to the physical assault of the aggressive knocking.

Hannibal reached for Clarice, put his arms around her and kissed her gently. "I love you very much, Clarice. I apologize that I was unable to avoid this difficulty. Please call Ardelia."

The Officers surged through the doorway with the violence of a cell extraction and grabbed Hannibal. He offered no resistance as they spun him around and slammed him against the wall, his bloodied cheek leaving an imprint on the paint. Hannibal was now restrained by several officers as they searched his pockets, finding and removing the Harpy. They placed him in handcuffs mirandizing him as they shoved him through the front door of his home. The cameras rushed forward, microphones waving as reporters pressed to ask questions. Clarice rushed back to the panel in the hallway as the Baltimore Police Department took her husband from this home and once again into their custody.

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Until the next chapter my dedicated friends!
LH