Chapter 30
)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(
S
)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(
"Does your wrist and side still ache?" Bedelia asked her at a couple sessions after the Tarot Killers were caught.
Saskia touched her left side, near the waist area as that was where the stabbing wound occured. "Just a tad."
After the initial stabbing and pain, her adrenaline seemed to wean the pain away and leave her with a small gaping wound in her side. The pain was dull and numb in the back of her mind, something she didn't quite understand until she could get home after the hospital trip and just sit and think.
She knew it was there, the pain, the burn and ache of a glass shard going through skin, but she couldn't quite bring herself to act like she was in pain. While she was limited in movement for the first few days as the stitches settled the wound closed, she walked like she hadn't even a graze from the little abduction incident.
The other two were more injured than her so she called that a victory.
"You plan to take some time off, don't you?" Bedelia asked. "After Leroy Harris, and now these two, you want to take some time to centre yourself and that's understandable."
"I want to start writing properly again," Saskia admitted. "I haven't been able to write a good sentence for the better part of six months now, and it's already turning to October. I might go travelling for a bit, try to find inspiration somewhere."
"Inspiration comes in random places and in bursts that you will never be able to predict. I hope you find whatever you wanted to."
Saskia smiled. "I'll find what I'm looking for eventually."
Even if it meant putting herself in a couple compromising positions.
She didn't miss America as she flew across the ocean alone to see her lovers.
)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(
Saskia was never a fan of organised religion but she had to say that she loved the buildings that came out of it. How people could create such beautiful places such as the chapel she stood in now, she would never know.
The Norman Chapel was beautiful. It wasn't the first time she had visited it but the beauty remained over the years.
There was something about churches and cathedrals that gave her a sense of hope. She could sit in them for hours, the silence a comfort. A sacred place that wanted to show everyone the good of the world and yet it let in the worst.
She stepped into the main room.
She never wanted to be close to God, but she was closer to Hannibal and Will than she had been in months so it was close enough.
A priest crossed himself when he saw her walk further into the room.
Saskia could never believe in a creator that allowed his creations to suffer. Realistically, she didn't care that He didn't care for others but she did care about herself. How could He let her suffer and expect her to still pray to Him? After a time, she gave up with prayer. He wasn't going to listen to a child out of seven billion people. She doubted He even listened to the prayers of those most devoted to him.
Saskia was going to Hell either way and she was not going to ask for redemption nor was she going to repent.
She was above needing someone or something to validate her and her actions.
Her sins were her own to handle and own.
It was a lot more fun to rebel against Him than it was to obey.
And it was fun playing god.
She understood why God didn't end suffering and disease. Her own creation decided to disobey her once and that was when the relationship ended on bad terms. And then the creation wanted redemption and sought it out wrongfully, going against her once again. The creation took her family away and that was the last chance gone.
She understood why God left humanity to suffer by itself. Humans destroyed everything they touched. They were harming the earth and were close to permanently damaging it. Animals were dying unneededly because Humans wanted to hunt them for sport.
If the creation was allowed to hunt its companions, god was allowed to hunt its creation.
A sudden image came into her head.
Sunday morning, bright and sunny. The choir would sing beautifully as people stood in the pews, packing the chapel full as the priest would later talk and preach about whatever it was said that God would want.
Then the roof would collapse.
Some would call it a natural disaster, others would call it God's will.
It would be a disaster, a beautiful, chaotic disaster that took several lives and injured more.
Asking for forgiveness and repenting your sins did not mean your sins were gone.
They would always be there, sitting as transgressions against god.
)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(
H&W
)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(
"How well do you know the Fells, Antonia?" Will sipped at his wine as Hannibal sat across from him with Antonia Dimmon on one side of the table.
She wore a pretty grey dress which showed off her shoulders and a touch of cleavage. "As much as anyone else, I'd think. So not very much." She laughed but the sound made Hannibal grit his teeth.
"Is Lydia a friend of yours, Waylan," She asked Will, using the name he had been given by Saskia.
"I wouldn't say friend…"
"I see. I'd very much be surprised she had one." Antonia said, waving a hand. "We share a mutual detestation. She disapproves of my disapproval."
Hannibal had kept his eyes on the oyster he was doing. "What do you disapprove of?"
"Roman, mainly," She stated, eating an oyster but she didn't finish her mouthful before speaking. "Lydia isn't quite bright enough to see that Roman can be intimidating to other fellows. Roman sees it, of course. He loves to strike fear into people."
"Dante wrote that fear is almost as bitter as death," Hannibal said, going around the table to put another oyster onto Will's plate.
"But sometimes death is sweeter than the life we have," Will smirked into his wine. "Dante wasn't dead when he wrote it."
Hannibal went around the table again, getting to his seat once more. "Are you travelling alone, Antonia?"
"It's the only way I travel. It's a little dangerous to do so as a woman but I like the experiences I've had so far."
"Roman is speaking to the Studiolo on Friday on Dante, you should come."
Antonia took the napkin and draped it across her lap. "Sounds quite hellish."
Both men were quick to realise that Antonia was avoiding the meat on her plate, and they asked why.
"I'm not a fan of meat," She said, looking at it with disgust. "There's just something about it that doesn't sit right with me. I try to be polite about it but it doesn't always work, like tonight."
Hannibal sucked his teeth in thought. As soon as Antonia looked away, Will sent his lover a look that said he wasn't allowed to do what he thought he was going to do.
Which turned out to mean 'don't kill them at or bring them to the table' . Something Saskia introduced when Will killed a man and put his corpse on the dinner table. She was not impressed when he did that.
)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(
"She's here," Hannibal said, sitting in the parlour of the beautiful apartment Saskia owned.
"What do you mean?" Will said, switching to Lithuanian as Hannibal did.
"Saskia. The mix of her perfume, Modern Muse Le Rouge by Este Lauder, and her natural scent are not missable when you have wanted to smell it for ages," Hannibal said.
"You think she's in Italy because you can smell her perfume? How many people actually wear it?"
"The way she wears it is different. Wrists, chests, a dab behind the ears and a touch in her hair. She always prefered a scentless shampoo and bodywash but she uses the same conditioner as you and I."
Will smiled. "I have a tendency to nick your conditioner, don't I?"
"As did Saskia."
"We can't help it, it smells and works better than ours," Will said.
"And makes you smell like me," Hannibal smiled at that.
"I know that smile," He narrowed his eyes at his lover. "You've got a plan in mind. A person to kill would be more accurate. I do hope that it's Antonia Dimmon. Recently, she's been reminding me a little too much of Freddie Lounds for comfort."
"We'll crack a brunette instead of slice a ginger this time."
)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(
Even at the sight of their other lover, Will didn't want to admit defeat.
They both watched from one of the hallways built into the chapel, one that was used purely by the employed to keep the place clean or as an old getaway.
Saskia looked ever so confident with a new hair color that was now starting to fade and grow out. Her natural hair was growing out now, forcing the dulling red and orange of the hair dye to fade and grow away from her face. The new growth was almost at her chin now, and the previous colours were only on the very tips of her hair now. Within a couple months, it would have grown out completely if she cut a couple inches off of her hair.
She had a glimpse of the body, the origami heart folded on itself to be beautiful and fragile, before the police covered it up from the prying eyes of the public.
They knew she saw what they wanted her to, an origami heart just for her.
)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(
S
)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(
By request, Saskia was at the local police station. Dressed in black jeans and a lacy blush coloured body suit, she finished the look with simple heeled boots and an open leather jacket over the bodysuit for protection. She just sat on one of the benches, just waiting now. Her italian was a little rusty, she hadn't been able to use it much over the last while. Hannibal had almost forced her into learning languages again, just as he did Will.
She was grateful for the lessons.
"Signorina Alasite," The man beside her said.
She already knew who he was.
She kept an eye on all of their enemies or those that could bring them down.
"Chief Investigator Rinaldo Pazzi, Questura di Firenze ," He introduced himself.
"Long way from Florence, aren't you?" She asked, not even looking at him as she kept her gaze forward. "How do you know who I am?"
"I've read everything I could find on FBI profiling methods." He said, turning to look at her. "I've also read the case of the Tarot Killers."
"And?"
"I was surprised how quickly it was closed. Being abducted by them wasn't how I thought it would have ended." He said. "Is it not surprising you were uninjured when they needed a lot of medical help afterwards?"
"What can I say?" She smiled, tapping her foot in the air silently. "I make my writing as realistic as possible, and I exercise enough to know what works and what wouldn't."
He hummed in acknowledgement.
"Isn't it strange that when you come to Palermo and soon, very soon, a body is discovered?" Pazzi asked, his tone a little disapproving in a condescending way. "The priest at the Cappella dei Normanni said that you've been there a lot of times."
"I'm trying to find some inspiration. Religious places help me centre myself and I can think clearly." She plainly said. "There is something about chapels that makes me feel like I am not alone and that is a comfort. You'll have to excuse me, I'm being called now."
One of the policemen came and questioned her. It took the better part of half an hour but it was over with quickly. They only found it suspicious that she was spending time in the chapel before a double murder was found. Her FBI work background didn't help but it did force the fact that she was here on vacation and not working.
She barely got down the stairs that led to the doors before she sensed she was being watched. Turning promptly on her feet as soon as she reached the bottom, she snippily asked, "Why are you here, Inspector Pazzi?"
"Why are you?"
"I need inspiration for my new book,"
"About serial killers?"
"Not this time."
"I do what you do," He nodded. "We share the gift of imagination."
"No, you don't." She said back, eyes going cold. "You see the person and why they did the things they did. Was it trauma? Abuse? Or purely because they could? I see what happened. How they did what they did, in what order, in what way. You see the mind while I see them. But we both do like knowing. We just know different things in different ways."
There was a pause.
"You know who killed that woman and left the bodies in the Cappella Palatina,"
"Do I?" She rolled her eyes. "Either tell me you want my help with a case or leave me alone, Inspector Pazzi. I can be a busy woman at times."
"Fine," He said, taking a photo out of the file he had on hand and handed her it. "I met him twenty years ago. Il Mostro, the Monster of Florence. It was his custom to arrange his victims like a beautiful painting…"
And the picture of the crime scene was beautiful.
The way the two bodies were positioned were a perfect replica of Primavera, besides for the not exposed breast of the woman. Both bodies were draped in two different fabrics, with the man in an opaque fabric and the woman in a sheerer, more golden one.
)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(
She didn't intend to make Investigator Pazzi think she was going to help him but it was worth a try now since she had him caught in her web of deceit and lies.
But she got what she wanted.
Alone in the chapel with a set of pictures from the crime scene made the two beasts in her shadow grow and morph into their true selves.
While she imagined the broken form of the corpse being twisted and morphed into the desired shape, she saw them as they were for the first time in ages.
The Lycan and Wendigo seemed to dance around each other as their human counterparts took the body of the brunette and slowly broke her bit by bit. Each new break and fold made the beasts get closer to their human counterparts in the middle of the room.
The grins of all of their faces were predatory and held no human warmth or kindness as they tore the limbs off of the body, disposing of them as needed. Each crack and groan of the bones were music to their ears as the beasts came closer, letting them get more vicious in their moments and desires.
Saskia sat on the stairs, letting the leather of her jacket groan as she laid down to look up to the ceiling.
Up in the rafters of the chapel, the Kitsune sat on one of the wooden beams, swinging her legs over the edge as her tails looped around the wood to keep her in place. The Kitsune had a hand pressed to her side, emulating where Saskia's own side seemed to ache at the moment.
Snapping out of her daydream, she felt the hairs on her neck rise as she was being watched. Turning her gaze to the upper levels of the chapel where the clergy could stand and watch out of hidden hallways, she grinned and waved a hand at her lovers.
Pazzi had left her alone a while ago, not liking the slight look of feral darkness she could have when she liked what she saw in her vision.
When she looked back at the upper levels, they were gone. She closed her eyes, hearing the gentle footfalls that would otherwise be ignored by the human mind as being too quiet to comprehend. She could hear them slowly getting closer before a door opened and they began to echo and fade.
Saskia snapped out of it, jumping to her feet and ignoring the pull at her side from the sore muscles.
She had a feeling where they could be.
As soon as she opened the doors to the catacombs, she could hear them.
She stepped into the catacombs and they began their game. They liked their games and now they wanted to play cat and mouse? She could do that.
They seemed to move, getting closer to her but keeping several walls between them. When she came closer to them, they split and hurried away from her before she could get them within her sight. She would get the sight of a polished leather shoe before it disappeared again.
The walls were calming and the bodies, she had no clue how old those corpses were, lining the walls were the only source of life that was done here.
Even death was part of life, but it was the final stage.
There was a comfort in the catacombs with the way century old bodies and skeletons lined the walls. Everything was barely lit by the random candles in the walls.
She was silent as she prowled through the rows of walls and doorways. She made no noise as she hunted her prey. Keeping her ears open, she wanted to find them quickly and that meant being stealthy.
Their heartbeats were in sync, perfectly timed together as the two men stood together in an area of the catacombs.
It took a few more turns around a wall here and there but she found them with their backs to her. How fortunate.
She launched herself forward, laughing softly as Will turned around and caught her before she could topple both of them.
Saskia took a moment to just look at them.
They were beautiful.
"You need to keep this jacket," She said, her hand trailing down the front of Hannibal's chest because that black leather jacket was doing something to him and she loved it.
He tucked his hand into the curve of her back, bringing her close to him and Will before he smiled into her hairline. "We'll see. You've cut and dyed your hair."
"I needed a change."
"It looks good."
She just smiled at that. "Gods, I missed you both."
"And we missed you."
"I love the gift," She grinned, teeth flashing a little in the candle light but theirs did just the same when they smiled.
"Good," Hannibal said, stepping away a little only to gently take her left hand and bring it upto the light. He smiled as did Will. "You like the ring."
"I did," She watched as Hannibal and Will brought their left hands to lay them next to hers.
Their rings were matching but it seemed hers was the ring that would have been in the middle. All of the rings were a shiney black and held rubies within the band, but only Saskia's had the addition of the large gemstone.
All of their rings were placed on the left ring finger, the commitment finger, the marriage finger.
"Someone named Pazzi is after you, Hannibal," She said, her voice suddenly holding a tone of glumness before it turned to anger. "Something about the Monster of Florence case didn't sit well with him even after twenty years. He had a feeling that I could help."
Hannibal turned serious. "That isn't good."
"He had a picture of you from twenty years ago,"
"He must suspect that the person who was convicted wasn't the real Il Monstro, " Hannibal muttered, moving his hand from Saskia's back to her waist. She hid the wince but she couldn't stop the bandage from catching at the skin. "You're injured. Why?"
That made Will pause.
"You're injured?" Will said, turning to her. "Where?"
"Side," She touched the hip area just below her waist. "And I sprained my wrist."
"What happened?"
She hesitated. "...I rather not speak about it."
"Saskia…" Will elongated her name, meaning that he meant business and wanted to know.
"The Tarot Killers abducted me," She sighed, touching her once sprained wrist that was now healed. "Tried to kill me but I fought back and injured both of them. The woman stabbed with a shard of a broken mirror after I shoved her husband into a stack of deer antlers. Then I took the shard out of my side before stabbing her in the neck with it. Both are alive, sadly, but they're both in prison now."
"Speaking of prisons, how is Leroy Harris? I'm surprised you are here," Hannibal asked.
Saskia grinned, lips curling back to show off sharp teeth and a mischievous glint in her eyes. "He suffocated on his own tongue after he realised I wouldn't come back to visit him."
)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(
