Chapter 4
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Jack had summoned Saskia to sit in front of his desk along with Hannibal, Will, and Alana. She sat in the middle with her chin resting on a closed fist with the tiniest curl of the lips as Jack tried to reprimand her.
He shoved the open laptop to show her the screen, the tab was on TattleCrime.
"I don't see a problem," Saskia ground her teeth as Jack glared at her with no warmth. It didn't affect her in the least. "I was in my legal right to agree to an interview with her. "
Her eyes were blank and unblinking, her lashes touched her eyelids that were lightly dusted with a rusty shade of powder. She didn't feel guilty for doing that, there was no shame in it, or remorse for her decisions for doing it.
"It was reckless, Saskia,"
"I know what I'm doing," Saskia rolled her eyes and interlocked her fingers together, resting them on her stomach while her elbows were on the chair arms. "If I give her a certain amount of information, she won't go looking for false ones to satisfy her viewers. If she has questions, she'll come to me and not another source that could make me look bad."
"She could still go out and find another source if she isn't happy with you,"
Saskia sighed. "I made her sign a nondisclosure agreement for some things but I also made her sign a contract that said I would see anything and everything she wrote about me, my book series, and this case."
"You gave out information about a case?!" Jack's anger was evident on his face.
"That information is already out there, Jack. I repeated what she said. I didn't give her anything that wasn't already public. I'm not incompetent nor stupid, I watch my words around her," Saskia wanted to scream in frustration but she forced her anger to be a cold bite in her words, almost making Jack flinch as her warm personality disappeared for the moment. "If you don't mind, I've got places to be today. My phone is on, call me if the need arises."
Has The Murder With Miscreants Trilogy inspired a serial killer?
After six body, five of which have been confirmed to be identical to the details in the Murder with Miscreants: Sight, have been found, the FBI is concerned that the best selling murder mystery, thriller book has inspired someone to make the fictional murders a reality.
It is confirmed that Syn, the author of the trilogy, has agreed to help the FBI find the killer and even gave them the last book, Murder With Miscreants: Listen, early.
Syn had agreed to do an interview with TattleCrime to confirm some suspensions that the public had.
'One day, the FBI came to my home,' Syn said after I asked how they found out about the murders, 'Not many know my identity and they wanted to confirm that I wasn't the one doing the killing. It's understandable.'
'How many bodies will there be?'
'If they follow my work exactly, twenty-one. Seven, eleven, three," They said.
'Why did you write the books?'
'Pure enjoyment. My audience has always been of the slightly darker nature within everyone,' They smiled before it dropped, 'But no, I didn't plan on having anyone following through with the actual acts. It is purely fictional and I don't condone the use of my work in their demented gain of attention. There's a thick line between fiction and reality, I think.'
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By the end of the week that reached into March, the seventh victim was claimed and found. For once, the body was found at a reasonable time and Saskia didn't have to be woken up because of it.
The body almost completely matched the front of the novel.
The woman's eyes had been carefully taken out of their sockets, along with the skin around her eyes and eyebrows. She had been placed into a sitting position against a tree branch, almost posing her like one would a model. Her hair had been braided intricately but with large gaps where the fingers would have grasped the strands. In her cold hands, she held the mask that was once her face.
"She's the last of the Sight victims," Jack said.
"The next lot will be worse," Saskia crossed her arms as she examined the braid. "The gaps in the hair braid definitely suggest that it was done by a male. Females usually have smaller and daintier hands, and these gaps are huge."
She compared the gaps with her own fingers which slipped in without resistance. Wedged between the tightest loop, Saskia found a tiny slip of paper. She waved a photographer over before she took the paper, showing it to them and Jack while Will did his thing and Hannibal spoke to the people who found her.
"Open it," Jack suggested with a nod.
Fear froze her as her eyes caught the words. Her breath caught in her throat and made her swallow loudly. There was a slight burn in her nose as her tears welled in response to her fear, she didn't allow them to fall but shoved it down. Goosebumps lined her body as she uncontrollably shivered.
This couldn't be.
No.
"Will, Hannibal," Jack said, waving the men over as Saskia still clutched the note in her hands. "Have a look at this. A note."
Saskia handed it to him without turning it over, fearing what would be there.
Does my artwork reflect your written works well?
Love,
Hamlet.
"Who's Hamlet? " Will asked. "Who's he writing to?"
Saskia stood as the three men looked at the note, she forced a slight smile to her lips to try and hide the unbelievable terror in her eyes. She held her eyes downcast as she asked, her voice almost cracking, "What does the back say?"
This was the part she feared. She really didn't want to know what was on the back, but she had to know. Saskia wouldn't allow herself to live in fear if she didn't have to.
"Ophelia. The woman from that Shakespeare play, Hamlet?"
Saskia's lower lip almost trembled but she wouldn't allow fear to rule her. She bit the inside of her cheek to quench the need to hide, to find safety, away from that note.
"She's the daughter of Polonius, a nobleman in the play Hamlet," Hannibal commented, placing his hands behind his back as he leaned forward to look at the note in Jack's gloved hands. "She was the potential wife for Prince Hamlet but he leaves her heartbroken, resulting in her madness and eventual drowning."
Saskia always had a fear of drowning, that was always something she was scared of. It was a fear that stood at the back of her mind, she had forced herself to learn how to swim when she was a teenager.
But hearing the story of Ophelia again, no, she couldn't do this.
Not again.
She began to back away from the body, her eyes still downcast. Hannibal had been the first to notice but he didn't say anything.
"Are you alright, Saskia?" Will suddenly asked, his eyes almost meeting hers if she looked up. He stepped forward towards her as he saw the tears welling up in her eyes, the distrustful and shell shock look in her face.
"No, I'm not," Saskia admitted in a barely-there whisper, beginning to hug herself. She shook her head. "I can't do this anymore, not with him. Not again. Sorry, Jack, but I'm not going near him or his work again."
"Him who?"
"Leroy Harris," Saskia spat the name out with venom. "If he's the one doing this, I can't be here."
"Why can't you? If he's the killer, we can arrest him,"
"I don't care," Saskia said, her feet dragging her back inch by inch. "I'm going home before you drag me into this mess more than you need to."
Jack saw her haggard breath getting caught in her throat, true and uncontrollable fear held strong over her. "Go home. I want you in my office tomorrow, however, we still have a killer to catch."
She nodded as she tore the gloves off, shoving them in a biohazard bag before almost wandering away in a daze. Her eyes might have been unfocused but she still heard Jack's request for one of them to take her home, he didn't trust that look in her eyes. He was right to do that.
Will caught up to her easily, his strides longer than her own. He grabbed her elbow, careful not to startle her too much in this state. "I'll take you back so you don't have to hail a taxi."
Saskia jerked her chin in her acknowledgement as Will led her to his truck. They both got in silently as Saskis rattled off her address in a low breath. The ride was silent, save for the light rain against the windows.
"You're terrified," Will said after several minutes of silent driving. The woman had been gazing passively out of the window, she looked numb to the world with her expressionless face and attitude. It was too similar to what Will felt at times.
"I'm not terrified, I'm scared to death," Her hand trailed up to the back of her neck, right at the base of her hairline was a tiny scar that was once a wound that almost killed her. "If I'm correct, Harris will keep killing until I'm dead."
"Why would he want you dead?"
She bit the side of her nail before saying with a slight snarl, almost mockingly said, "Because I refused to die last time."
"Last time? He tried to kill you?"
"Yep," Saskia took a calming breath as anger filled her. "There's a reason why the note had Ophelia written on the back. I was barely in my twenties when we met, falling and crashing into love. It was the sick type of love that was obsessive, and needy, and unhealthy in all ways. I dumped him because I planned to change universities because I wanted to do something different, he had other ideas."
"I see that he didn't succeed in killing you," He said in dry humour, thinking this was the best tactic to use with her.
She huffed, pursing her lips as she allowed a tiny smile. "He kidnapped me for a week, eventually deciding to drown me as Ophelia did. He always compared us to Hamlet and Ophelia, quick to love and mad to lose. I faked being dead and then he slit the back of my neck, enough to look like suicide if I was found. He left me like that in a river."
"A lot of people around you are deranged, aren't they?" Will muttered as he took a turn.
"I attract a lot of stupidity and insanity," Saskia's tone turned from amused and playful to blank again. "I'll have to see about getting more appointments with Alana after this. Especially if I have to continue helping with the case."
"You said you weren't going to help, not with him?"
"I changed my mind. If I don't help, twenty-one people will die. If I can stop that and get the bastard the death sentence, I'll be a very happy lady."
If she could wrap her hands around that man's throat and watch as the life slowly drained from him, she'd be set for life.
She had fantasied on how to kill him several dozen times before, ever since he had dared bring a blade to her neck. Her hands wanted her to take her long nails and simply gut him in his jugular as he bled out beneath her like dirt on her expensive shoes. He wasn't worth any thought anymore, no more than a child's opinion on a complicated matter that didn't involve them.
Her hand twitched and she clenched her fists closed, digging her nails into her palm. With a slice of pain, she broke the skin of her palm and relented in her anger. Saskia was calmer now, her anger dissolved as the pain came. Saskia didn't notice that Will had observed her doing this when he came to a red light. She didn't even flinch but simply traced the tiny cuts before clasping her hands onto her coat to hide the fact they were bleeding.
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It was getting warmer as the days turned into weeks and soon months passed and several other bodies were found. All matched Mouth victims, counting only five bodies left before the killer would be finished.
Saskia slowly retreated from the investigation, only coming when asked. She had sessions with Alana twice a week, especially since that little note was found. Jack insisted on it, especially when he had seen what state she had left that day.
She saw less of the trio of men, and even less of the trio that mainly worked in the BAU. there was no need to see them unless a new body came in. They had enough information to place Leroy Harris at each scene but they couldn't find him.
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"You look pale," Alana said after Saskia opened the door to allow the woman into her home.
Saskia snorted. "Thanks. Beer?"
"Oh, of course," Alana said and greeted Countess with a good ear rub. She came into the house and sat at the island as Saskia opened the fridge to get a bottle out. Saskia poured herself a whiskey before bringing both over.
"I haven't been eating well," Saskia admitted as she swirled the dark liquid with the glass. "It's not like I can't stomach it. If I force myself, I can eat a good meal. I've lost my appetite since the last body was found."
"I heard it cut quite close to home," Alana said as she saw Saskia almost curl up in the stool. Her normally defensive and defiant eyes held a tone of vulnerability in them. She wasn't used to seeing this look within the woman before her, Alana was becoming more concerned with her mental health.
Saskia wasn't by any means feeling less defensive and defiant. She knew she was human, she could be killed and so took precautions to keep herself safe, even if it meant having to show Alana that she was capable of being vulnerable. Saskia hated being vulnerable but it couldn't be helped.
"Yeah," Saskia sucked her teeth.
Mia had been killed.
Mia Kipper who Saskia found endearing enough to actually befriend. She had been the one to do the covers of the books and he just had to kill her. Saskia was so angry when she saw her body, her lips bound by simply twine and cheeks sliced so she would choke on her own blood before dying.
Saskia had to leave the scene for a minute, kicking the wall had helped her anger but did not help her foot. She ignored the pain and allowed a few sentimental tears to drip before she detached herself with a calming breath. It was scary how quickly she turned from wanting to scream in emotional pain and anger to completely emotionally numb. Her eyes turned cold before she reached the body again.
Saskia rubbed her nails against her palm gently, seeing the almost nonexistent crescents there. "I'm thinking of getting my nails redone soon. I chipped a few of them cleaning."
"Oh," Alana leaned forward and looked at Saskia as she rubbed her nails. "What do you plan to get?"
"Perhaps red, maroon red, or blood red, maybe black, maybe grey," Saskia muttered. Right now her nails were a simple nude. "Actually, I might just get black and clear smoke nails."
"Yeah? What shape?"
Saskia thought for a second. "Coffin again, I think. I like this style."
"Good, self-care should be implemented especially when you're feeling down."
"I'm not feeling down. Mia was killed and I actually liked her. I've been drinking more coffee to stay awake, I prefer to not drink energy drinks if I can help it."
"When's the last time you slept?" Alana took another gulp from her beer.
"Last night,"
"For how long?"
Saskia shook her head slightly as she tried to think. "Six, seven hours? I didn't fall asleep till five and I got up at about one this afternoon."
"Why did you go to bed so late?"
"As I've said before in our sessions, I want to get him." Saskia wanted to snap at her but she knew she couldn't. Alana was only trying to help, even if Saskia didn't want it.
"But you're making yourself sick. Do you think you are doing yourself or anyone a favour if you are not taking care of yourself, Saskia?"
"Alana, I'm fine! My sleep schedule is later than yours, that's all. I still get the amount needed. It's better than what I had when Samson was alive. I barely slept for two or three days straight before I crashed on my bed due to exhaustion."
Alana wrote something down before changing the subject, seeing Saskia becoming defensive. "How's the investigation going?"
"Like walking through quicksand that is ready to eat you alive," Saskia had finished her glass and shoved it out of the way. She patted the large area of island counter next to her, silently asking for Countess to come up. She did, laying herself against the cool marble before shimmying her muzzle under Saskia's hand.
"You haven't announced your identity yet," It was more of a statement than a question but Alana was still looking for an answer, Saskia knew.
"Yeah. I've actually decided to release my identity, I'm having it done by Freddy Lounds on her stupid little site, then the newspapers would get wind of it."
"When are you planning on doing it?"
"I've already got an appointment set up with her," Saskia rubbed her thumb across Countess' nose, making the bitch almost glare at her and sneeze into her face. "Thanks, girl. It should be out by the end of the week, before the next victim is taken I hope."
Alana nodded, understanding somewhat. "I'm glad you installed the cameras."
"And the deadbolts, so am I." Saskia blinked, feeling tired all of a sudden. "I can no longer walk around naked in my own home, but the small things we have to sacrifice for safety."
Alana snorted into her beer which made Saskia laugh as the brunette blushed a hue redder. Countess rolled onto her side, miscalculating her size and somehow fell off the edge of the island and landed with a thud. When Alana and Saskia laughed at her, Countess growled playfully before turning away with attitude and strutting to the bedroom.
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Syn, the author of Murder with Miscreants, has finally revealed their identity!
With sixteen bodies found by the FBI and confirmed to be the work of the Miscreant Killer, as I have dubbed this special killer who uses the books as a base for his victims. For several months, the FBI has been working tirelessly to try and find the Miscreant Killer before he strikes again, but they have no leads that the public knows about. They might be trying to keep this under wraps but we don't know yet.
As before, I have stated that I, Freddie Lounds, have met Syn in person and know their identity. They have decided to come to me and allow me to expose them. Aged 29, Saskia Alasite (pictured below) is the writer of the famous series that has inspired its own serial killer.
Miss Alasite has been helping the FBI for many months now, trying to catch the killer. She has given me an exclusive interview that sheds some light on the investigation, only after she had confirmed it with Jack Crawford, the man who is in charge of it. Miss Alasite has given the green light for me to publish this…
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"Fuck this shit," Saskia said as her feet began to pain her. She was walking in the FBI HQ, making her way to Jack's office. Deciding to take off her high heels, she was grateful for the clean floor and the stockings she was wearing. Her heels swung in her hand as she strutted to the office, knocking before coming in.
"Morning, Saskia," Jack greeted before getting out from his desk. He still had his own coffee to drink. The late nights had taken a toll on him the past few days and he sorely missed sleeping well.
"Morning, Jack," Saskia grinned and finished the last of her homemade coffee. She sat down in the chair, tugging her feet onto it and was glad about the long skirt she wore today.
"Don't tell me you walked here without your shoes on?" He looked at her like she had two heads but his eyes still held amusement as his lips tugged up.
"Only after I got onto this floor," She smiled sheepishly before taking a black and green Monster energy drink from her little bag. "These heels are killing me. I only got them a month ago, so they still need to be broken in properly. They're made for sitting, not walking."
"Bella says that sometimes. She has a beautiful pair that she only wears when she needs to look good and sit pretty,"
"Smart woman. I've got about seven pairs," Jack gave her a look that said he thought she was insane. She gasped and laughed, watching Hannibal and Will come in together once again. "Hannibal, how many pairs of shoes do you have for formal events?"
He paused in shock before smiling. "Half a dozen for formal events, and about a dozen for everyday work. Why do you ask?"
"See? I'm not insane for having that many shoes. I've only got twenty-seven pairs!" Her amusement was contagious as all three men smiled at her antics. She had dropped the heels to sit them under her chair.
"Why do you need so many shoes?" Will suddenly asked, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
"To match my outfits and moods. I might feel like wearing boots and jeans for a tougher look, or heels for a more business casual, or flats for a comfy look. If you think twenty-seven pairs is bad, you should have seen my collection before I came to the states," Saskia took a draw from her energy drink. "You'd be surprised by the price of a good pair of heels. A good pair of heels to a woman is like a well-tailored suit to a man, or the other way wrong if you prefer that." She shrugged.
Hannibal stood up taller, almost showing off his own well-tailored three-piece suit. It was charcoal grey with a teal tie and handkerchief. Saskia always appreciated a well-dressed man or woman, especially when in a suit or dress. And when they were already attractive.
She shook herself out of the cheeky smile she had on. "Anyway! Why did you call for me, Jack? Another body? Ooo, another scene?"
The woman looked much too happy about the murders, they thought. Much like a fox, her lips curved up and they swore, if she had a tail, it would have been swaying in excitement.
"Yeah, another body,"
"Victim number seventeen. Are they downstairs already?"
Jack stayed silent, almost remorseful as his facial feature shifted.
"Saskia, there's a note this time," Jack said as he plucked the hidden little piece of paper from the desk.
She was no longer smiley. Shivers raced down her body and she suddenly felt cold. Her once playful stance changed to imposing and icy. Saskia gritted her teeth and held a calculating glare. "What does it say?"
Rosemary and Pansies, Fennel and Columbine,
My dear,
Very few left now.
Saskia suddenly bolted up from her chair, beginning to pace the length of the office like a caged animal. Her jaw was set in a snarl. "He's threatening me."
"Why do you think that?"
"Jack. Those are some of the flowers that Ophelia gives out when she goes insane," Hannibal said as he watched Saskia pace and bite her thumbnail in frustration. "Rosemary and pansies for remembrance and thoughts. Fennel and columbine for flattery and male faithlessness."
"He's threatening me," Saskia muttered again. "I want to find that bastard and get him on the death sentence if I can't kill him myself. When he gets put down, I want a front-row fucking seat."
"Saskia, calm down before you wear a hole into the carpet," Jack said and quickly grabbed the enraged woman by the elbow before guiding her to her seat again.
"You'll bite your nail off doing that," Will pointed out when Saskia kept bringing her hands to her mouth. Saskia sent him a dirty look before stopping, laying them in her lap with a heavy exhale.
"These next few killings will be aggressive, there'll be no care to these victims," Saskia said. "He'll take his time to kill them, perhaps taking the whole day before to dump the body in such a way to appease his inner sadist."
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Hannibal knew Saskia had opened the door as soon as she drew a breath at the sight of his office. A man laid dead on the floor, face down with a blank look. Another man, she knew him as Tobias Budge from a string shop, swung a long string of something she couldn't pinpoint around him, threatening Hannibal as he stepped forward.
At Hannibal's dark look, Saskia knew that she wasn't to interfere and so stepped silently out of the room as Tobias swung forward with the intent to kill. Even if she wasn't being attacked, Saskia's veins filled with adrenaline as she imagined the fight in the office. She closed her eyes as she leaned against the wall, only opening them when she heard the crash of glass against something.
It was like watching apex predators in action as the two fought for dominance.
Saskia was careful to not bring any attention to herself as she watched. Hannibal headbutted Tobias before grabbing his shirt and throwing him towards the desk. Tobias grabbed a sharp metal figurine from Hannibal's desk, turning back around to hit him but Hannibal tackled him and wrestled him over the desk. They split as they landed, Hannibal barely looked up before Tobias swung his foot to try and kick him in the face. He missed as Hannibal quickly got moved to all fours and Tobias stabbed the air as Hannibal dodged again.
She flinched as she heard Hannibal gasp in pain when Tobias jabbed the figurine into his leg. Tobias used this distraction and pulled him onto the desk, trying to slash the sharp edge into his throat. Both men struggled for a minute, each trying to get the upper hand on the other to kill them. Tobias didn't see Hannibal's hand go for the pen, quickly finding it in his dominant arm which made Tobias drop the metal object.
Both without weapons, they resorted to old fashion punches and kicks. Saskia didn't move from the door, she had no desire to stop watching as she was transfixed by the sight before her. It was spectacular to see this fighting style of two men vying for dominance and to see who would survive.
Her instincts told her to leave before it was over, she didn't know how Hannibal would react after this. It was beautifully chaotic and she wanted to keep watching. It was very rare for her to actually see a proper fight between people, especially one that would end in death.
It sent thrills down her back.
With a crack of Tobias' arm, Saskia was brought back to the fight. It was mostly over as Tobias groaned and screamed. Satisfied, Hannibal licked the blood off of his lips and Saskia froze as his eyes reached her wide ones. She felt numb and her face was blank but her eyes flickered continuously between the three men, forcing her breath to remain calm even as Hannibal looked at her before going back to Tobias.
Within a single dozen seconds, Tobias had the pen in his throat and he kneeled and gasped and gagged. Hannibal gave him a disgusted look before plucking the handkerchief from his suit and gently wrapped it around a small statue of a stag. He raised it over his head, licked the blood on his lip again in anger, and brought the stag onto Tobias' head and effectively killed him.
Saskia stayed frozen at the door frame, unmoving as Countess nudged her leg. She was like a deer in headlights, her eyes watered but not because of the sight before her, she now feared what Hannibal might do to her. Countess pawed at her and Saskia looked down to see the dog and two pair of expensive shoes.
She didn't realise that he stood before her.
A startled squeal erupted from her throat, making her jump back as she turned to run. Saskia wanted to be anywhere, anywhere where Hannibal didn't look at her like she was a rabbit caught in a trap. His hands cut her escape short, quickly bringing her to his chest as he refused to let her leave. She struggled and screamed, he pushed her face into his shoulder to stifle the sounds.
"Saskia!" He tried. "Saskia, I'm not going to hurt you."
She stilled but she was tense in his arms, forcing her heart to calm before taking a breath of his cologne by accident. It was dark with the metallic tang of both men's blood.
"Are you calm? Will you stay calm after I let you go?" He felt her nod against his shoulder. Satisfied with her answer and her calmed mannerisms, he slowly unravelled his arms from around her and clasped his hands onto her biceps in case she ran.
Her heartbeat was erratic with adrenaline. Breaths were hard to take in, she felt as if there wasn't enough oxygen in the air for her to breath properly. There was a tickle in her chest, a demented laugh that wanted to be heard.
"Ima—" Her breath was hard but she forced herself to continue. "What the fuck was that?"
Her eyes were wide but not with fear, Hannibal noted with disbelief, they were wide with a type of dark euphoric bliss that was rare to come by, clouded by slight confusion. When he moved even an inch, she flinched unconsciously and a bolt of fear went through her eyes, he could clearly see it.
Her knees wanted to buckle but she didn't want to. Hannibal's hands tightened on her arms, thinking she was going to run but he soon realised she wanted to sit down. He easily guided her to sit on one of the side chairs of his office, surveying her with wary eyes as he folded his blue handkerchief and placed it back in his pocket.
Saskia ran a nail across her lip in thought before she bit the side of it. She raised her head, almost glaring at the man before her. "Didn't you think to try…"
"To keep him alive?" Hannibal prompted with a scoff.
Saskia rolled her eyes as courage flowed through her. She stood up and felt Hannibal tense, ready to grab her if she ran. She wasn't going to run, not in these heels anyway. Saskia just wanted to pace.
"No. Why didn't you think to simply jab him in the eyes? Would have saved you an injury or two. Blind him and as he screams in pain and clutches his head, you could have grabbed the shiny metal thing and thrust it into his neck. This would have saved you a lot of trouble and mess," Saskia quickly said in a single breath before muttering, "But if you did that, you couldn't have made it look like self-defence…"
Hannibal lifted an eyebrow in surprise at her insight. His look told her to continue as he knew she had more to say.
"Have you seen anything like this before? A fight to the death, I mean," He said. "Will you tell the FBI what happened here?"
If Hannibal wasn't Hannibal Lecter, he would have been disturbed by the smile that found its way onto her lips, curling them cruelly as her heartbeat became normal. She sat down, almost flopping carelessly back into the chair as she let out a breath that released her fake facade she had to hide behind normally.
"Remember Samson?"
"I know you killed him,"
"Oh?" She sounded somewhat sheepish, her smile all teeth before him. "How did you come to that conclusion?"
Her display of teeth made him want to snarl. It was like she was mocking him, goading him into proving his worth. His eyes darkened and she tried to hide her gulp, making him satisfied that she knew she didn't have the upper hand in this conversation. Saskia wouldn't back down but nor would he.
"I have a very sensitive nose, Saskia. You love spicy food and so it sticks to you, making your signature scent spicier than normal, and you prefer a darker perfume with a tinge of floral, perhaps rose and a mix of lavender. However, you prefer to use odourless everything else, by choice."
Saskia was somewhat amused by this, a small chuckle escaped her. "I don't know whether to be offended or happy that you know my signature scent." She shuffled in her seat for a second. "Anyway, I didn't kill him. The injuries, however, were me. It was the least I could do for the bastard."
"You didn't answer one of my questions,"
She gasped, placing a hand on her chest. "Oh, I didn't see anything. All I heard was a crash and fighting when I came through the front door. After all, I only came here to get Countess, and by the time I came into the room, he was already dead and you were injured. So I went to help your injuries, so go sit down as I call the FBI before you hurt yourself even more."
He hummed, content and somewhat surprised and proud by what she said. He went behind his desk and sat down as she called.
Will strolled into the office with caution. He glanced around until his eyes laid onto Hannibal and Saskia by the desk, one harmed while the other was fine. Saskia was slowly dabbing some disinfectant on the cuts on his face, but she knew that if Hannibal got an infection, it would be the least of her worries now.
"I was worried you were dead," Hannibal said after Will stood before him, clenching fists at his sides. Jack had followed Will in, standing before the desk while Will walked to stand on their side of it.
"Stop moving," Saskia pulled his face back towards her by his chin, she still dabbed until all of the blood was gone. "I'm almost done."
"Tobias Budge killed two Baltimore police officers, nearly killed an FBI special agent, and after all of that," Jack started in a low tone as he watched the two. "His first stop is here, at your office."
"He came to kill my patient," Hannibal stated after taking a deep breath to think. Saskia finished and his gaze went from her to the body of his patient, Jack followed it.
"Your patient. Is that who Budge was serenading?" Will asked.
"I don't know." Hannibal looked up at Will. "Franklyn knew more than he was telling me. He told Mr Budge that he didn't have to kill anymore. And then he broke Franklyn's neck, and then attacked me."
Jack was blunt with his words. "You kill him?"
"Yes."
"Could Franklyn have been involved in whatever Budge was doing?"
"I thought this was a simple matter of poor choice of friends."
"This doesn't feel simple to me," Jack said before turning to Saskia who leaned against the desk silently. "When did you come in?"
"I don't know, I opened the door to find both men on the ground. I was more concerned about Hannibal and his injuries. I called it in before helping Hannibal." Saskia allowed a small amount of fear and pain into her eyes as she looked at Jack, showing vulnerability that would convey her innocence.
"Alright. You've given a statement?"
"Yes," With her answer, Jack nodded and retreated.
Will loosely crossed his arms as he looked at Countess who laid across Saskia's feet. "Why was Countess here anyway?"
"Hannibal has asked for her help with the patients, she's an emotional support animal and is good with bodily cues," Saskia said. "She's been helping with the patients who become easily stressed. I came here because I needed to get Countess home before the taxi's stop for the day."
Will nodded in thought before running a hand down his face. "I feel like I've dragged you into my world, Hannibal."
"No, I got here on my own." Hannibal turned from Saskia to Will. "But I very much appreciate the company."
Hannibal looked between the two before him. One he knew was a killer, one he was slowly manipulating into being more like him by each session. That one was slowly losing grip on his reality and Hannibal needed to stabilise him quickly. The other was different, she knew what she was doing. Her act towards the FBI agent that took her statement was superb, flawless with her eyes tearing up to gain sympathy from them. She was a wild card, not knowing her place in the deck because she hadn't decided where she wanted to go. This one was too indecisive to make the decision in a safe amount of time.
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For the last four hours, Saskia had been running.
After donning warm workout clothes, she slipped her shoes on and grabbed an unneeded leash for Countess. The canine just followed her at a good pace as Saskia tried to get all of her emotions, her frustration, anger, fear, disbelief, out of her system before she did something self-destructive.
It was hard to believe what she had seen earlier in the week. It took a few days to properly process but it came down on her suddenly. She needed to understand but she would, eventually.
Saskia found herself sitting on a bench in a wooded part of the edge of Baltimore. The cold air was fresh against her cheeks as she breathed in the misty air. By the time she had finally stopped running, the afternoon had turned to evening and the sky darkened until the shadows took over.
There was a flash of something moving to her left, she strained her ears to hear if anything was there. Small, calculated footsteps. She smiled, they had a slight limp. Countess growled, almost snarling and snapping her teeth as the figure stood behind Saskia on the bench.
"Sit down, Leroy," Saskia calmly suggested. "We both know that you aren't ready to finish our little cat and mouse game just yet."
"You know us well, Saskia," His voice became sick with sweetness as he jumped over the back of the bench to sit next to her, leaving a foot between them. Dark circles under his eyes suggested bad sleep, a guilty conscience that plagued him with nightmares that wouldn't leave him in the night.
"We were soulmates, Leroy. Time couldn't make me forget that," Saskia kept her gaze forward and she almost heard him slouch. "The keyword was were. I could have forgiven you a month ago, a year ago, but not after you went after one of my friends."
"Who?"
"Mia Kipper, the photographer and editor you killed as victim number sixteen," Saskia sat up and took a breath in and exhaled, watching the breath turn to mist.
"Ah, her," He gasped, turning slightly to face her. "She was quite a catch. She squealed quite loudly for you. Were you close?"
Saskia detached herself, quickly losing all fear she had for the man and his actions. She smiled sadly as she agreed. "Somewhat close. I liked her. It could have been more but you killed her so we won't know now."
"No, we won't," He sounded dejected, almost sad by the words he said. Leroy had both hands clenched on his thighs, not in anger or any emotion Saskia could decipher.
Saskia brought her hand and clasped one of his. She looked at his dark eyes. "Thank you for helping me kill Samson. I couldn't have done it myself."
"I know."
Even after the attempt on her life years ago, Saskia still held a small degree for the thin-faced man before her. For years, they had been friends and then dated for a few months. As she had said, they both knew they were soulmates but for this life, it wasn't right. Both were too headstrong and unwilling to bend to the other's expectations.
They were Ophelia and Hamlet, one willing to leave the other for madness.
She might have still loved him but she wouldn't allow the relationship to manifest again. Once was enough. Her heart didn't rule her, but she did not rule her heart either. It slowly loosened its grip on the love she felt for Leroy but it was still there, the tiny sliver of deranged hope in the darkest pit of her heart.
They had split on bad grounds, neither wanting to admit the truth. They were perfect for each other, but this perfection came at the cost of their sanity. With each passing month in their relationship, they became reckless with lust and gore.
Saskia knew they needed to stop.
"I'm not coming back," She said when he asked. "I can't."
"Why? You said we were soulmates!"
"We were two flames dancing well together, but we danced at a pace that soon burned our wicks down to the ground," Her smile was almost sad but it hid the desire to slap the disgusting lust out of his eyes. She gritted her teeth but still continued to smile, bringing her hand to cup his cheek and watched him nuzzle into it. "We were soulmates but we're not anymore. You've taken my books, my life's work and made a sick masterpiece out of the thing that I've spent my life writing. You've come back and took my reputation and shoved it down the drain."
He suddenly turned to fully look at her, eyes wide as they flickered. "You could come with me, help me make your masterpiece the thing generations will speak of when they hear your name."
His hands were cold even through the fleece she wore, gripping her biceps as he frantically tried to get her to agree. He should have known that she wouldn't agree, not now.
"They will speak of my work for years," Saskia said and stood up, he quickly followed. Countess stepped back and readied herself to protect. "You've made so many people read my work because of your killings. You made my work famous. I've been getting requests for interviews across the globe. Just think of how many more I'll get once you're in prison."
"Prison? I'm not going to prison!" Leroy snarled, fumbled with the side of his belt.
Saskia saw the flash silver and gasped. A knife. He dared to pull a knife on her? Her hand was brought up without her thinking, she swung her nails down his face. Four gashes of blood appeared, Leroy groaned before exhaling heavily with a gasp. He stepped forward just as she stepped back.
Countess leapt as soon as she saw him bring the knife down.
"Сука!" Saskia swore as she staggered back, clutching her left shoulder where the knife was embedded in. "You fucking twat! That hurt!"
Adrenaline coursed through her as she swore fluently at him without pause. The wound burned deep with her shoulder but she breathed through the pain.
That was difficult with how much her pain receptors were giving out.
She ran her tongue against her upper teeth as Countess jumped at him, her claws digging into his chest as she bit into his own shoulder. He shoved her off with a jab, quickly turning away and sprinting into the forest. Saskia allowed Countess to chase him, she needed the thrill of the hunt.
She called for an ambulance after making her way onto the civilian paths where she sat down.
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Russian words used:
Сука = Bitch (I hear this word shouted at our dog all the time because he loves to get in people's way and lay in the most inconvenient places, like the bottom of the stairs when it's dark. It's also because he's ball-less now,:) )
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