Chapter 8

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Saskia froze as the front door slammed open and then shut. Hannibal had just come back from work, and he was angry. She didn't even need to see him to know that, something in her told her to be meek and quiet, lest anger the beast.

He swiftly walked from the foyer where he put his coat away, through the living room where Saskia had been sitting and completely ignored her, and went straight to the kitchen. The fridge door opened and Saskia took this as her cue.

She quickly got upstairs without making a sound, something she had learned in her teens, and closed the door to her room.

This wasn't the first time in her life she had done something like this. Whenever her mother was in a bad mood, Saskia was always the verbal punching bag. Quickly learning how to survive the verbal abuse, Saskia knew how to avoid becoming a target. And with Samson, physical abuse was a very real thing.

And hiding away was always first on her to-do list.

She spent an hour quietly sitting on her bed, typing away at her laptop. It was an easy task and wouldn't bring any attention back to her. She kept her music low so she could hear any footsteps but there were none for the hour and a bit.

There was a knock at her door.

"Come in." She said, not raising her voice unneededly. Hannibal stepped into the room, quickly taking in the two females in the bed and the freakishly clean bedroom.

There was not a piece of clothing in sight, nor any hint of shoes, or book out of place. And Saskia always had at least two books opened on the side table, and five little notebooks all over the floor. And Countess was

This was another thing she did. Being an extremely messy teenager, her mother used to always target that as a main point of disappointment. Saskia took to making the room seem like no one used it as the best way to minimise the fall out rate.

"Hi," Saskia said. She was kinda scared to ask how his day was. His posture was still slightly rigid, but not as hostile as it was before.

"I was wondering what you would like for dinner,"

"Um, you can decide," Saskia smiled, hoping it came off as normal instead of slightly insecure. "I'm not hungry so I'll have a snack later if that's alright with you?"

Another.

By making the other person think they were in charge, it gave them a slight rush of dominance and gave them a choice. It helped to keep the unneeded negative attention off of her.

"That's fine," Hannibal said blankly. "Will will be joining us in two hours, I hope that is acceptable?"

"Of course," She nodded before going back to typing. Hannibal left the room without a word, easily closing the door silently.

She came down an hour and a half later, her throat had been bugging her for a while but she had put off getting a drink for half an hour already. Hannibal was making dinner in the kitchen, a curry type dish Saskia thought, it smelt very good and it just reminded her that she hadn't eaten much that day.

She went to the fridge to get a bottle of water and an apple for later.

Saskia flinched when Hannibal shut a cupboard a bit too harshly, quickly cringing into herself as she raised her shoulders to hunch them. She didn't let the fridge close by itself, gently closing it with her hand. She kept her pace steady but fast as she went for the kitchen door, already knowing Hannibal had begun to cut up some chillies.

Hannibal paused the knife, taking a breath through his nose and almost immediately stopped. The air was spicy but it wasn't from the chillies, it was too much. The wrong spices mixed in to create a disgusting smell that made his nose cringe. And it wasn't from the curry.

"Saskia," He began, knowing straight away that she was the cause. But the smell thickened as he said her name and she paused. "You're scared."

She turned around. "I'm not scared. What's there to be scared about, Hannibal?"

"You know I detest lying for no good reason," He rounded the island and came to stand before her, leaving metre or two between them. He watched as she rubbed the back of her neck.

"I'm not lying," She smiled with a confused tone.

"Your type of 'fine' is not the same as mine. And by my standard of 'fine', you are not even okay," He stepped forward and the spicy spiked. "But you're scared of something. Scared of loud noises?" She shook her head, mouthing no, "The thunder?"

"I love rain and thunder," She said.

"Then what, Saskia? You're not a scared person. You don't get scared unless it's under certain circumstances. So tell me and we can sort out whatever is making you scared."

"It's, uh," She stuttered a little, unsure of how to start. "You came back angry and went straight for the wine. My, umm, mother used to… used to do that when she was in a bad mood."

"I do admit I was in a foul mood when I finished work. But why would that scare you?"

"It reminds me of my mother," Saskia fiddled with one of her sleeves, getting more and more aggressive with the twisting and tugs. "Whenever she came home annoyed or angry, I always hid."

"And that's why you went to your room when I came in. Were you scared I would react like your mother?"

"No," Her voice an octave too high. "It was…umm… Samson used to come home angry, or mad, or just pissed off, and he used to go all quiet. It was the quiet before the storm that always got me anxious." She absently scratched her cheek, right where the invisible scar was. "He used to be quiet before beginning to slam stuff, and if I was in his way at all, in his sight, or hearing range, or in the house at all, he'd start to yell before getting aggressive. First, it was cupboards, drawers, and doors, and soon enough I was against the wall with him yelling at me."

She didn't like recounting what Samson used to do to her. It made her feel weak, and she hated being weak.

Without her permission, tears welled up and slowly dripped. She wiped at them with a sniffle, trying to blink them away.

"I may be a cannibal, Saskia, but I am not Samson. I do not like to yell. I find it if something is worth getting angry over, it should be discussed civilly," Hannibal brought his hand to rest one on her cheek, gently wiping away the dripping tears. "I will not put my hands on you unless something warrants the need. Even with your knowledge, you haven't done anything to earn my anger or disappointment. You've been a good girl."

Good girl.

She shivered.

Those two words struck a sour chord in Saskia. Without thinking, her tears stopped and her anxiety disappeared, replaced by barely hidden anger and rage.

Even Hannibal saw the physical change Saskia went through when he said those words. He decided to see how far she would go. "Such a good girl."

Good girl?

His condescending smile sent her off into seeing red and dropping both water bottle and apple.

Saskia grabbed the hand that held her cheek, snatching it away from her face with a snarl. She hurled her palm towards his face but he easily shoved it out of the way. While she held one of his wrists, he took the offending hand and drew it across her torso so she either had to let go of him or be stuck.

She released him as she stepped forward, wanting to headbutt him. He stepped around her, forcing her arm across her torso before he stood behind her with one of her arms pinned to her left hip while her left arm was free. Drawing it forward, she sent her elbow into Hannibal's side but he didn't react much besides a stiff groan and an intake of breath. When she tried again, he caught her left wrist with his other hand, and held it to her right hip and keeping it there as she struggled with a snarl.

"Don't call me that!" She almost yelled, her voice full of untapped anger. "Let me go already!"

"Don't call you what?" Hannibal said, his mouth near the shell of her ear as she tried to get his hands off of her wrists. "Good girl?"

She didn't care that she was barefoot, she stepped as hard as she could onto his foot. Twisting her hands so she also held his as he held hers, she dug her nails into them and jutted her arms up as she jolted her back into his chest. With that move, she tried to headbutt him again and succeeded when he groaned again.

He was just able to keep her in his grip as she thrashed.

"Do I need to leave you two alone?" Will's voice was teasing as he stood by the doorway, half leaning on it as Countess and he watched the two.

Saskia calmed her posture but she was seething inside.

"Will," Hannibal greeted as he unwrapped his arms from Saskia.

Her instincts moved faster than her mind was allowed to comprehend them. Within a single breath, she shifted her feet and used the grace that the fox she had once seen to twist around. Her lip curled up into a beastly scowl as she lifted her hand as she turned.

She didn't need to think. She knew this was right, what she needed to do to show her grief and disappointment.

Hannibal began, "You're just in—"

SLAP

His face jerked to the side as Saskia stepped away. Hannibal felt a trickle of blood from his nose, the headbutt and slap had caused a nosebleed but it stopped soon after.

He felt a pulse of anger but he knew he deserved it. There was something attractive with the way she handled herself, her eyes full of undiluted hellfire as she pulled her lips back in challenge.

It made him want to challenge her even more, see where her limit was before she submitted, either by death or obedience.

"Next time," She snarled with gritted teeth and strong, unwavering glare. "It will be much worse."

Saskia stormed away, going to the front door before stuffing her feet into boots and pulling her coat on.

"I've got my gun!" She yelled before slamming the front door closed, stalking off for a walk.

She needed to clear her head. It was full of bad memories that wanted to resurface and make her recollect them with irregular accuracy. She needed to walk, to calm down before she hurt someone, mostly Hannibal, or permanently damaged something, the wall.

She was fuming.

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"Here," Will walked to Hannibal with a handkerchief, quickly wiping the minimal blood off of his face. "What was that all about?"

"Merely an experiment,"

Will sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What did you do to get that reaction from her?"

"We spoke about why she was scared. I came back angry because Jack was trying to accuse Abigail of helping her father, and somehow Saskia could tell that I was angry. Past experiences with her family and Samson, I presume. She avoided me until a few minutes ago, where I confronted her on why she was scared. I tried to comfort her and it worked until I said Good Girl."

"And?" Will prompted, knowing that Hannibal had done more than just that.

"I could tell that she was becoming angry," Hannibal said as he began to pull plates and bowls out for the finished curry, "Uncontrollably and completely instinctually angry."

"And you decided to push her limits, see how far she could become like us," Will said, helping Hannibal with the knives and forks. "You need to be careful, Hannibal. She isn't like you or I. She's a survivor, her first instincts are to survive, and if that means hurting or maiming, or telling the truth, she will do it."

"She has another side,"

"Yes. But it is two sides of the same coin. Me? I don't care about the morals of killing anymore, you've corrupted me in that way," Will said as he watched Hannibal smile at that. "You were corrupted at a young age but you quickly took control of yourself. You kill because they are not on your level, not on our level. Survival of the fittest and all that.

"But Saskia? Instead of taking what the schools and society gave her, she morphed her own set of morals that she tries to pass off as normal. She has never been corrupted, she just is. She hides them, faking it till she makes it. She said that a gun is impersonal and if you're gonna kill someone, there is no better satisfaction than feeling their pulse slowly deplete their bodies of blood."

"She's an actress," Hannibal nodded.

"A brilliant one," Will agreed. "She has everyone at the FBI fooled. Even Alana."

"It is not like it's that difficult." Hannibal took a sip of his glass. "We both have done it now."

Will smiled. "A few omissions here or there is keeping us both safe. I don't want to lose you to stand behind glass. The dogs are good snugglers, but you are much better. I'm surprised by how much the dogs like Saskia, they didn't like you at first."

Countess huffed as she pawed his leg, getting a piece of juicy meat from Will and a disapproving look from Hannibal.

It was a meaty bit of thigh.

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The satisfaction she got from seeing the red mark on Hannibal's face was an unspeakable amount. It was bright and slightly raised with tiny indents where her nails caught his skin. It would be healed by tomorrow, but knowing she put it there made her anger simmer down.

"Not sorry," She said as she sat at the island, picking at her vegetable curry aggressively. "Will do it again if necessary to get the message through."

"What was that about anyway?" Will asked as he helped Hannibal wash and dry the dishes, placing them away into their respective cupboards.

"I hate being called a good girl," Saskia stabbed at a potato. "Especially after I've been scared or crying."

"Was it Leroy or Samson?" Hannibal asked.

"Both but many Samson. A year into our relationship, he became physical with me. And a few months after, alcohol just made him worse and his temper was even quicker than mine. Every time I left and came back, he would call me a good girl and say how much he loved me. But after all that, he still threw me into walls.

"It was nearing the end of our relationship, and I was fighting back, leaving more often but still coming back. He 'punished' me for leaving him and hitting him," Saskia swallowed dryly. "He always tried to comfort me afterwards, always calling me a good girl when I did something he liked. I react badly when someone calls me that now. And you knew, Hannibal, that I reacted to it but you still pushed. So no, I am not sorry and I will never be sorry for how I reacted."

"Good."

She was confused about why he was saying that it was good that she wasn't sorry, but she didn't push it even if she wanted to. There was something about the tone he used that made her hesitate, so she narrowed her eyes before finishing her meal and retreating back to her room to finish the chapter.

There was just something beastly and savage about her raw anger, something Will and Hannibal found fascinating. It hit a little too close to home.

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A well dressed woman stood outside the door, her blonde hair pinned up and out of her face as she clutched a bag to her side. She had a pair of impeccable heels but Saskia noticed not much else.

"You must be Saskia," The woman said, inclining her head as Saskia came into view.

She blinked, leaning against the door. "What do you want?"

"Can I come in?" The woman gestured inwards.

"Who are you?"

"Bedelia Du Maurier,"

"Huh, Hannibal's psychiatrist," Saskia stated, letting the woman in with a nod. "Get in. The warm air is escaping. Coffee?"

"Please,"

Saskia began the painstakingly long task of making coffee Hannibal's way, grinding the coffee beans by hand before filtering it.

Bedelia Du Maurie glanced around the kitchen as Saskia began making coffee. The woman in front of her wore just a simple jumper dress that reached her mid thighs with thigh high stockings in a dark shade of grey. Hair tousled like she just woke up, which she probably just did, Bedelia concluded as Saskia yawned.

"Thank you," She said as Saskia passed a cup over.

"Why are you here? You should know that Hannibal is at work," Saskia asked, sipping at her own. "What do you want?"

"I know, I visited him at work today." Bedelia cleared her throat, almost uncomfortable with her next words. "I'm no longer Hannibal's psychiatrist,"

"And?" She prompted with a nose scrunch. "That is between you and him. It doesn't explain why you're here with me when you fully know Hannibal isn't here."

"Long story short, I believe with how Hannibal speaks about you, it is dangerous for you to continue living with him,"

"You think I'm living here by choice?" Saskia scoffed. "It's here or in Witness Protection. Hannibal is a fantastic host and everything but I miss my home, but I don't fancy living in my home where a serial killer has broken into twice. I appreciate the concern, but it isn't needed."

"Hannibal is a manipulator. I don't believe he would ever force anyone, but he could manipulate you into something you don't want to do,"

"I was brought up with an abusive mother, and my father wasn't in the picture often. My ex-boyfriend was physically abusive to me, and the other tried to kill me and is actively trying to mimic my work by killing people," Saskia rolled her eyes. "When I say I know when I'm being manipulated, I know. I will never be manipulated into doing anything I don't want to, not anymore."

"You may be used to being manipulated by the men in your life, but Hannibal isn't normal," She said with a twinge of fear. "There's something that even unsettles me."

"I've got Masters in Psychology, and Sociology. I may have given up doing a Doctorate but it doesn't mean I don't know my stuff. So thank you, your advice is noted, and ignored."

Bedelia Du Maurie simply ended their exchange at the door with "Good luck then."

As if Saskia needed good luck to get along with Hannibal Lector. She just needed to be wary but otherwise, she would be fine.

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She sat before the fireplace, her weighted blanket heavy against her knees as she was tapping away at her tablet. She had curled up on one end while Countess took up the rest of the couch, even going to certain lengths, read whining until she got her way, to have the weighted blanket thrown slightly over her back.

With each beat of the music, she tapped her feet but didn't miss a single letter or punctuation as she mouthed certain words. When she couldn't mouth them due to a complicated sentence she had to figure the wording of, she swayed her head in beat to keep her concentration and not lose her motivations.

"Mädchen von Haithabu?" Hannibal said as he looked at her phone screen after pausing the music. "I didn't know that you knew German,"

"I've got cousins in Germany, used to visit them when I was in my mid-teens, and I took German in school, and failed it," Saskia took out an earphone as she looked at Hannibal, already undoing the cufflinks on his shirt sleeves. "What's up?"

"It is midnight. What are you doing that would prevent you from going to sleep?"

"Writing."

"Writing what exactly?"

"Finishing up the tenth chapter of Abigail's book."

"How many are there in total?"

"I've predicted about seventeen short ones or thirteen long ones, depending on how Abigail wants the narrative to make her sound," Saskia wrinkled her nose as the fire crackled, spitting too much ash into the air. "I need another half hour before I finish writing and then I can edit another day."

"Alright. Good night."

"Night!"

Three hours later, Saskia was still on the couch. She curled the blanket around her some more because the fire had died down. Her music still blasted through her headphones, now it was rock music with a heavy beat and strong bass.

Abruptly, Hannibal turned the music off. "It's almost three am. Bed."

"But I've almost finished the chapter," Saskia whined. "I only need another half hour."

Hannibal didn't look convinced. "Last time you said that you didn't go to sleep until the next night."

She hesitated to say, "And?"

"You have to be up by seven tomorrow morning, and you'll only be getting four hours of sleep already," Hannibal countered. "I'll leave the coffee out before I leave tomorrow, but both of you bed."

"Fine," Saskia grumbled as she scrunched the weighted blanket over her shoulder. She pouted as she walked upstairs, completely planning to write some more when she goes upstairs.

"And I will turn the WiFi off, so don't even try and write some more. You need your sleep."

"Fine! Okay! Going to bed to sleep!"

After a few minutes of pouting, Saskia got into bed and grumbled once more about Hannibal breaking her writing flow, before falling silent.

Hannibal sighed, turning the WiFi back on as he knew she would at least try it. He didn't expect anything else of her. What he didn't expect was finding her in the kitchen an hour later.

A hand at the small of her back made her jump.

"Shit giggle!" She yelped quietly. He chuckled at this outburst. "Don't do that!"

When she turned around, her scowl was replaced by a sheepish grin. She had Bluetoothed her mobile data to her laptop before realising that the WiFi was working.

Hannibal held a disapproving look in his eyes, an eyebrow raised as if to ask her a silent question.

She knew she was caught.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting a glass of water?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Telling,"

"You need to be in bed, Saskia," Hannibal plucked the earphones out of her ears before handing her the glass of water. "Third night in a row you've stayed up late, you'll make yourself sick."

"No, I won't," She quickly drank the water before refilling it again and finishing that too.

"Unless you want me to put sleeping pills in your food tomorrow, I suggest going to bed and getting a few hours of sleep," He said, raising an eyebrow as she tried to argue. She shut her mouth before nodding.

"Fine," Saskia placed the glass into the dishwasher before picking up her phone and headphones.

"And actually go to sleep."

Saskia didn't reply besides a dismissive wave over her shoulder.

She always wore revealing outfits. It was revealing with her figure and how she liked to carry herself. Her shirt dresses were what she mostly wore when it was night time, other times she wore her fuzzy bunny pyjamas which had Thumper on the trousers.

Hannibal noticed that she hated to wear a bra, regardless of weather, because she stated they were uncomfortable and wore them when necessary, yet she wore six-inch heels without complaining.

She was a piece of work.

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AN: Hiya. I'm glad everyone is enjoying Saskia's story, (if not, tell me on how to improve!). If any of you want sneak peaks into future ideas, or want to help influence where Vixen will go with story ideas and prompts, PM me and we can chat. I love bouncing ideas around. I already have future scenes written up, I just need to link them together properly.