"Are you, Will Graham, ready for judgement." A woman in a steel coloured outfit asked him from the safety of her podium.
"Yes."
"Well then, let the court decide. Is he Guilt or Not?" She asked, raising her hands as if she wanted a crowd reaction. And so she had it.
The court screamed it's approval. Guilty was the air they breathed and Guilty was it exhaled again. The letter stung like giant ugly intentions, lowering towards yuletides.
Perhaps he should have said No.
"Then court is adjourned. We will meet outside tomorrow for the execution. Will Graham,"
At her snipped voice he looked up, his name seemed like nothing more than a number inside a computer debuggers head.
"Prepare for your judgement day tomorrow. We will tolerate none of your kind in these streets and this is how we deal with you monsters. Pray hard, and maybe God will forgive you."
At this, he finally spoke up, "He's already forsaken me."
The judge looked ashamed, the crowd looked livid.
"Very well then. Enjoy Hell."
He was escorted back to his cell without harassment, as the 'protestors' were absent for only today, and he was alone once more.
It all bettered to help him think. They wouldn't arrest Hannibal. They hadn't tried and he knew they wouldn't. He knew that he would be the only one getting blamed. He was angry. And his anger only smoked out his brain until his only thoughts were of rage.
Suddenly, something jolted him from his thoughts. The sound of metal against metal and muffled cries.
He sat up from his bunk and looked out from the metal bars grating his only exit. What was happening?
Then, as if he was in one of his nightmare states, the bar door just slid open. Freedom was vast and dark, but so was his vision as a shape blurred into his vision and covered his mouth with a rag of sharp smelling liquid.
How he was abducted from a jail was a mystery. A good mystery if he was spared, but a mystery all the same.
"He looked up at the grating that covered his view, and reach, of the driver and then down at himself. Unbound and free. If only he could get out.
His abductor probably never knew his tolerance of chemicals. They wore off faster than normal, especially sleep inducing ones. That's why he had nightmares, because no medicine worked long enough to provide him with sleep.
Now he just needed to surprise his captor so he could get away.
The van stopped minutes later with Will Graham in position to lung out at his kidnapper and flee with precision. He heard footsteps round the van and didn't really stop to wonder who might have kidnapped him in the first place, because when Dr. Lecter opened the van door Will paused his attack for an astonished look of, well, astonishment.
"Hannibal took that opportunity to attack and that is why Will Graham is now currently stuck in some weird wooden machine with his head strapped down with wooden planks.
"So. Will Graham. Are you ready for your judgement?" It was somewhat of a mocking tone of the judge that seeped out from Hannibal's words, but it made an impact nonetheless.
"No." He was glad he could reshape that answer from earlier.
"Well that's too bad. The verdict is Guilty. Any last words?"
Will couldn't even see where Hannibal's voice was coming from.
"Let me go?" He hoped that would suffice.
Hannibal scoffed, "I don't think so Will."
He was quiet as footsteps approached behind him and jerked on something connected to the wooden trap.
"Are those your last words?" Hannibal asked in monotone.
"No. I'm not going to die, last words are for the dead." Will shouted up at him, like ice spikes fallen from a cave in the dark tundra.
"Very well. Enjoy your judgement." he said before loosing his hold on the wooden trap connector.
The last sound Will heard was metal sliding down and the sickening crunch of first impact.
Then he was dead.