TALKING DIRTY
Hannibal trotted down the road leisurely with his head oscillating from side to side assessing the air as he moved. He turned down several streets leaving ones where the scent lessened. As he distanced from his home, all the while following his nose, it led him to a street where the scent began concentrating.
It has been quite some time since last I hunted. I should thank you for your daring, foolish and ill conceived though it may be.
Hannibal checked his watch.
Only five minutes have elapsed since leaving my home and already your scent is concentrating? You are far more fearless than you are clever. You live very near me, my friend, though, probably not for long.
That thought made him smile.
Hannibal moved easily in an out of traffic, crossing several large intersections as he followed the increasingly pungent scent. Finally, he came to an area where the aroma seemed to drop off suddenly. Hannibal turned in a circle flaring his nostrils as he lifted his chin in the air seeking the scent.
You did not pass this place…where is your home, my aromatic friend?
There was a large park with several benches across the street from the trail's end. Grateful for the cover the area provided, Hannibal leaned on the outdoor furniture to stretch his muscles and calculate the dangers. This allowed him the ability to survey the surroundings casually as he weighed several possible outcomes for any number of alternatives he might choose. Finally, he decided that upon determining the location, he would indeed attempt to access the home.
He would have no idea I could track him this easily therefore his defenses will be lowered. Barring external witnesses, it will be safe to approach.
Hannibal trotted across the street to the home he targeted by scent and noticed one car parked on the dirt and gravel driveway. It was an older model two-seated sports car, more rust than metal.
He lives alone, possibly with one other person. I would venture to guess the former rather than the latter as this man is a repulsive animal.
As a woman with a dog passed, Hannibal bent and pretended to tighten his laces.
This must be the home. His scent is so rank and heavy with bodily fluids it makes this search not only painfully easy but physically painful as well. That scent…ugh, a repulsive mixture of the cheap cologne he literally bathed in attempting to mask the shower he neglected to take, gunpowder, old urine and semen. More to the point there is semen with no trace of an accompanying feminine scent. Flying solo, are you my friend?
An open window emitted the same rising stench being tracked, though it was extremely focused and intense.
That stench is disgusting...his home smells like a human litter box.
The pungent convergence caused warm saliva to begin flooding Hannibal's mouth turning the hypersensitive man's stomach. He wretched for a moment, standing from his knee, bent at the waist in order to recover. The foul aroma that carried Hannibal to this very small home signaled quite clearly that he had indeed arrived at his destination.
If this is your home you have made my life quite easy. I can kill you and be home before your body cools.
Hannibal moved quickly to the back of the building, shielded from view by a large picket fence. The structure was a Cape with an attached garage and large trellis affixed to the side. Several old aluminum lawn chairs with frayed webbing surrounded the remnants of what must have been a recent barbecue. The fire pit, replete with burned out cardboard cylinders and brightly colored cones scattered about the edges, seemed well used.
This pit has been used recently therefore the source of the gunpowder scent is, more likely than not, the fireworks. There may not be a weapon after all. This individual may be daring however his intelligence and judgment are seriously lacking. What he gains in boldness is diminished in common sense. Though he poses a threat to the family, he will barely be a challenge to me. Clarice will be relieved.
Hannibal approached the trellis and tested its durability. Although the wood was not particularly stable, the vines that twisted around and within the framework added an armature that Hannibal believed would support his weight. He slipped an arm through and grasped tightly. He then stepped onto the framework and bounced slightly to analyze the tensile strength. Deeming it to be sufficient for his needs, he quickly ascended.
Thrilled with the pursuit, Hannibal's heartbeat was slow and strong as he scaled the side of the garage courtesy of this scrap wood and aged ivy ladder.
I shall access your home in much the same way you accessed mine though you will never know of my visit. If I am forced to call on you a second time, when you do see me, your life will flash before your eyes.
Hannibal gripped the twists of ivy and silently scrambled up the trellis and vines. Finding the garage an extremely good vantage point he could clearly see the perpetrator sitting on a worn couch in the living room located on the first floor. The man was watching what Hannibal believed to be pornography, though he refused to linger long enough to confirm.
Wouldn't a live woman be preferable, you revolting reprobate? A shower might go a long way to achieving that end.
Not wishing to find out whether or not the man intended to pleasure himself, Hannibal dashed across the roof of the garage as he carefully assessed the condition of the shingles. He then attended to a very detailed inspection of the same asphalt shingled surface on the home. Hannibal needed to determine whether or not the area had any dangers or abnormalities he would need to be aware of in the event it became necessary to make a quick exit from that section of either building.
No defects…no antennae or satellite dishes to worry about. I most certainly gave you much more credit. Your disregard for your own safety is making this much less effort than I originally believed. If the windows are in the same state of disrepair as the remainder of the home, access should be easily managed.
He then moved to the edges of the roof and assessed which room would be the quickest to access. He had the choice of two rooms. One appeared to be a spare bedroom as it had a neglected mattress on the floor and stacked milk crates to serve as bedside tables. The room's only illumination now was a light in the hallway. Although there was a lamp, it had no shade and the exposed bulb was distinctly blackened, obviously long burnt out.
This room provides the best opportunity, as it has no overhead light. Even if he replaces the bulb, he must fully enter the room to access the fixture.
Though the windows were closed, they had simple brass locks and were of an older, wooden style with rope and pulley systems to raise and lower them. Hannibal leaned over the roof and grabbed the edge of one window. He wiggled the frame gently to determine how much play was present.
These are so old they are more like shutters swinging in and out, than windows. I wonder? Can the hook of the Harpy slip easily between?
Hannibal thumbed open his knife by placing the pad of the digit within the circular cut out on the blade. He then reached, stretching very slowly so as not to lose his balance and shimmied the blade between the windows. The hook caught the lock and with a flick of his wrist, Hannibal opened the sash.
Stepping through the window and into the home Hannibal breathed deeply to determine the location of his target. Safety was assured as the man remained in the living room. The stealthy doctor opened the closet door to see only empty hangers and some boxes taped closed and marked Christmas. With no chest of drawers to store clothing, Hannibal had his answer.
This room is unoccupied. Unless he shares the second bedroom, this man lives alone.
Passing the railing, Hannibal could see the man was now, indeed, masturbating. He quickly averted his eyes and mused at the irony of the act as he moved down the hall.
So you are still watching the sex life you wish you had, I see. And you had the nerve to question my capacity to procreate when your sexual partner is your right hand?
Hannibal checked his watch and began the calculations.
The food will be ready in twenty minutes time. I'll need ten minutes to get home and pick up the car. The drive to the restaurant adds an additional five minutes time. That leaves several minutes to look about. I'll need no more than that.
Walking down the open hall in the other direction, aside from two rooms, there was a bathroom. The good doctor peeked in to determine whether or not, in an emergency, he should enter this space. There was no window, just a series of glass blocks to let the light in.
No egress. There is no way this can be opened without breaking through the glass bricks. Make certain, if there is a need to flee, not to enter this room.
Following the stench of the man down the hall to the master bedroom, Hannibal quickly slipped into the room. He sidestepped clothing on the floor and caught sight of several magazines similar in nature to the programming the man was currently enjoying.
Kicking open one of the periodicals to determine the nature of the material Hannibal noted the man seemed to be quite fond of rope play.
Stands to reason, if climbing is your hobby…that may suit my needs…
Opening the closet, Hannibal evaluated the clothing.
All the same size and style. All menswear. That fact, in concert with the literal orgy of pornographic evidence, makes it likely he lives alone.
The stench burning his sinuses, Hannibal decided he had both tolerated and chanced enough for one evening. He moved swiftly to the spare room and headed out the same window from which he entered. He slipped undetected down the trellis and moved quickly out of the yard.
In and out with all the information needed and no one is the wiser, least of all the dullard seeking his end in front of a two-dimensional harem. Pathetic. Truly.
Jogging at a comfortable pace, Hannibal breathed deeply certain to allow his lungs to fully expand with each breath. This permitted the cool April air to fill his lungs and vent the offensive aromas that had previously infiltrated his pulmonary system.
Within minutes he arrived at his Bentley with plenty of time remaining to pick up the food. Realizing the staff of the restaurant would expect him to have maroon irises and would be suspicious if it were not so, Hannibal removed the contacts. He then sent a quick text message to Clarice.
His text. Two words.
GETTING FOOD
Her response. Two words as well.
THANK GOD
Returning not fifteen minutes later with dinner in hand, Hannibal ascended the stairs leading to the home and entered feeling robust and refreshed.
Finding his wife relieved with the veil of worry newly lifted, Hannibal placed the food on the dining room table and threw his arms open widely.
"Well, Hello, Clarice!" he exclaimed.
His worried wife ran into his arms and hugged him close. Hannibal held her, consciously deciding for her emotional benefit that he would not release her. When this embrace was broken, it would be the moment his wife had had her fill and not one instant before.
"H…did you find him?" she questioned against his chest.
Hannibal nodded as his wife clutched him tightly to her.
"Why, of course I did, Clarice. Need you ask?"
She kissed the center of his chest. "Nah, I knew you would. You are a singular man."
Hannibal held his wife, arms loosely encircling her as he leaned back slightly in order to make eye contact. There was true excitement in his voice.
"It was no challenge whatever, my Love. This dolt would do well to stay at home. He will not stand a chance alone in my company."
Now realizing her husband had gathered the information necessary to protect the family, Clarice's concern shifted. She released Hannibal and looked up.
Seeing the contacts were removed, thrilled, Clarice brushed a hand over his brow and looked deeply into the crimson core she loved so well. Her heart warmed, the sentiment reflected in her voice, she recognized.
"There you are…I missed you."
Hannibal's voice was deep, penetrating Clarice's soul as he whispered in her ear, "I am never far from you, my Love, whatever the color of my eyes."
That thought, that he would never leave her, brought more comfort to Clarice than she was able to clearly communicate to her husband. She responded simply, aware that he could sense her mood, "I know H…I know."
She finally stepped back from him. "I'll get the dishes and the cutlery. You wash up quick before the dinner gets cold."
Kissing his wife quickly, he responded enthusiastically, "I'll be but a moment, Clarice."
Hannibal raced out of the room, newly charged. He was taking the safety of his family into his own hands and was confident that if the intruder returned, Hannibal would be ready.
As Hannibal washed, Clarice carried plates into the dining room and began to unpack the food. She put the entirety of Hannibal's dinner choice in one large serving bowl. She placed all of the rice in another bowl, her meal was placed within a third. She wasn't much of a cook, but there was no need for her to be. There was an unspoken rule between the couple; if Hannibal cooked, he served. If Hannibal conceded on the rare occasion and they purchased take-out food, Clarice served.
Hannibal returned to the dining room after having washed quickly. Clarice loved the way his hair spilled across his forehead haphazardly, as it so often did after his shower. It gave him a casual, almost boyish appearance. Clarice believed she could see her son in Hannibal's face. She kissed him as she placed the last plate on the table.
Hannibal waited for Clarice to sit and begin placing food on her plate. He spoke with true appreciation, "Thank you for preparing our meal, Clarice."
Clarice laughed and responded playfully, "Hell, it wasn't too difficult opening up a few containers and dumping them into bowls."
"Still, you could have expected me to eat from the containers. It was considerate of you to plate the entrées and ready our place settings. I appreciate your effort. It can't be easy on you as I am certain your body is going through quite a lot of changes. Our baby will arrive any day."
Clarice was ladling rice onto her plate and adding heaping scoops of curry.
"I'm feeling fine, H, but to be honest, this pregnancy feels like the longest gestation period in history so I'm really looking forward to holding the baby in my arms instead of my belly. I feel as if the little guy's feet are hanging out of me, he's getting so low."
Finding the comment more than a little entertaining, Hannibal rewarded his wife with a genuine smile.
"Though I find that visual amusing, I am certain this late in your pregnancy the baby has turned and begun his decent into the birth canal."
As the pair enjoyed their meal, Clarice took the opportunity to interrogate.
"So, this guy, he's no more than a mile? Are you kidding me?"
Hannibal held up a hand and paused for a moment before answering. He was chewing and wouldn't disrespect his wife by speaking with a mouth filled with food. Upon swallowing, as he added food to his plate he answered, "Give or take, yes. I made the run comfortably in less than ten minutes so that's a safe assumption."
Clarice smiled widely as she ate.
"Do you know how much I love you, H?"
"I hope it approaches the love I have for you, Clarice."
Clarice had placed wine on the table for Hannibal, but, due to his run, he thought it best to forgo the alcohol and hydrate. He and Clarice had achieved a level of comfort in their domesticity, each caring for the other without thought. Hannibal excused himself and stood.
"I'm going to get some water, my Love. Would you like me to bring you a glass as well?"
"That would be great, H."
Hannibal returned with a large bottle of mineral water and two glasses. He began to pour as he spoke, "You must monitor your fluid intake as well, my Love. Not only for the purposes of a healthy delivery, but for your milk production as well."
"I'm trying to H, but, it's tough because if I drink as much as I should, I've gotta pee every minute. I spend half the day in the bathroom!"
Hannibal placed a filled water glass in front of Clarice.
She nodded a quick thank you and with a point of her fork, indicated that she wanted to taste some of Hannibal's food. He nodded his assent.
As she scooped several heaps of the entree, she asked, "So, this bastard lives alone or with someone?"
He spoke as he poured his own water, "Alone. There is only one wardrobe in the bedroom being used. The other room is empty of personal effects."
Clarice, not as concerned with refinement as her husband, spoke as she chewed. Normally, he might have corrected, but, he learned somewhere around her seventh month, not to draw undue attention to such things lest he raise her hormonal ire.
She continued questioning, "So, H…You sure the fireworks were the source of the gunpowder?"
Hannibal, momentarily having his fill of food, set down his fork and picked up his glass. He sipped at his water as he spoke, "Yes, quite certain. There were no traces of it in the home and the yard was filled with spent charges."
Clarice set her fork down for a moment as well. The import of the next series of questions would soon be obvious.
"I'm assuming, if he lives alone, you'd take him in his home?"
Wasting not an ounce of energy he responded simply, "Yes."
Clarice leaned in close, "If you've got to handle this, how would you access the residence?"
Hannibal smiled a wicked smile and leaned in toward his wife whispering salaciously, "Ooh, Clarice, I love it when you talk dirty!"
"Come on, I'm serious…this is serious. How would you do it?"
Hannibal hedged, "You may rest assured, I am very, very good at this, Clarice. Do you not trust me? Are the details that important, my Love?"
Clarice supported her distended belly with her hands and shifted uncomfortably, as she responded, "No, but you can't use the Harpy. Anything but the Harpy."
There was a devilish gleam in Hannibal's eyes as he recounted, "I saw something today that reminded me somewhat of Mason Verger. It gave me a very good idea and rest assured it will not involve the Harpy."
"But you'll only go after him if he comes back, right?"
"Yes, that is clearly understood. Clarice, perhaps you should call Lora and ask her if she would be amenable to staying here with us for a few days. She has already agreed to assisting with the delivery and I would feel better about leaving you if there was another to look after you in the event I am delayed."
"Okay, H. If it makes you feel better."
Hannibal finished his dinner, secretly hoping to see the intruder again.
Hannibal Lecter had no way of knowing that within the next twenty-four hours he would be doing two of the things at which he truly excelled. Bringing a baby into this world and taking a man out of it.
Until the next chapter my friends!
LH