Hannibal's suspicion that Marcus Delamare kept records of who bought his omegas had turned out to be true thanks to Dolarhyde. The man had subtly let himself into Marcus' office one night while he was absent to root through the drawers. He enjoyed that sense of praise Hannibal gave him when he'd done something useful, earning attention from a serial killer as prolific and infamous as the Chesapeake Ripper sated Dolarhyde in a way he'd not even known he craved. Then there was the Dragon – quieter than it used to be – who hadn't been sure what to make of Hannibal, it had respected the achievements of another serial killer, but otherwise hadn't concluded anything about the man. Perhaps the Great Red Dragon didn't matter anymore, it had become quieter since Hannibal had started him on meds and that was what Dolarhyde had wanted, right? For the Dragon to go away, to stop pressuring him to kill Reba. Why did things always have to be so confusing inside his head? Hannibal had told him he'd help though. This marvel of a man he idolized would raise him from perdition.
With the records on Beverly and Brian, the little alliance formed between murderers, former sex slaves and indebted betas had made headway with their plans. They'd pick off the lesser targets first, the ones around Marcus that were easy to remove from the board before they made a bee-line for the boss battle. Closest turned out to be Johannes Marsden and Brian. The man lived alone in a fairly isolated house with only a housekeeper that came in each morning.
Getting Brian back first would also sooth the constant panic and heartache in Price allowing him to concentrate properly for the first time since Mason and Cornell had shoved Brian into that truck. Both Hannibal and Dolarhyde could understand his feelings to some extent; Hannibal would have slaughtered everybody who thought they could take Will from him, while Dolarhyde had to see Reba most days sitting chained to a wall.
Unfortunately, Price's eagerness to get his intended mate back, had led to Hannibal putting his foot down as they stood in his home study late one afternoon.
"I understand you want to be there for Brian, I appreciate that, but you will slow us down."
His mouth fluttered desperate to argue but Dolarhyde began speaking before he could get anything out; the whole time Will cradled a sleeping Veronique and watched on.
"Doctor Lecter is right. The less people go in, the faster and more efficient we'll be. I handle the few guards outside, he deals with Marsden and gets your omega."
A simple plan but simple was often more effective. Hannibal had no doubt he could handle everything alone, but Dolarhyde was a crack shot and it would have been ridiculous not to make use of him. He was also fully aware that this partnership would increase Dolarhyde's loyalty to him; those meds and a little attention went a long way with the dark-haired alpha.
Will pressed a kiss to his daughter's forehead. "As much as I don't want to agree with Francis, he is right about this, Jimmy. Let them do it, they know what they're doing. Hannibal will bring Brian home, don't doubt him."
Will's faith in his mate wouldn't ever stop amazing Hannibal. Price might have quietly accepted the serial killer onto his team, Dolarhyde may have idolized him, but only Will would ever truly understand and accept Hannibal for who he was. A divine treasure was Will Graham. Unable to stop himself, Hannibal made his way across the room to snake his arms around Will from behind, he kissed the top of his head then smiled down fondly to his sleeping daughter. They'd made such beautiful pups, hopefully they'd one day make some more.
"You see, Jimmy? Will is only thinking about what is best for everybody involved. There is no need to worry, I assure you of that. Francis and I will bring Brian back to you."
To be perfectly honest, both the serial killers would have been content to leave all the lost omegas to their fates, but Will craved the safety of his friends and Dolarhyde craved a closer partnership with his fellow alpha, so Hannibal would retrieve Brian and the others, then wipe Marcus Delamare out.
~X~
Stars shined bright in the sky as Hannibal and Dolarhyde approached the home of Johannes Marsden. A large modern construction with little to show for itself other than the amount of wealth wasted on its design. Hannibal wasn't exactly a stranger to that which lingered close to ostentatious, but Marsden's home could only be described as gaudy; it possessed no soul nor any real class. The two men had left Dolarhyde's truck just under a mile away then silently walked to the house; Dolarhyde armed with a gun while Hannibal had the trusty blades he preferred.
The hour was late, Will likely would have been tucked up in bed with a book by now while the twins slumbered in their cribs and Abigail in the guest room. A normal night for just about everybody.
While Dolarhyde worked his way around the house quietly gunning down the handful of guards and sating what could still emerge of the Dragon, Hannibal disabled the alarm and made his way inside. To say Marsden was rich and had clearly put some thought into home security, he seemed to have done it rather cheaply. Seemed they needed to add excessively frugal to Marsden's list of negative traits. Shutting off that alarm had been practically comical and a handful of guards probably hadn't been even remotely challenging for a man like Dolarhyde.
Somehow the inside of Marsden's home was worse than the exterior. Minimalism seemed to be the primary theme. Minimalism should have been about neutral colors and prioritizing the essential, removing excess to achieve a delicate elegance. Instead, all the décor had succeeded in doing was making the place look like Marsden hadn't finished moving in.
The scent of fearful omega assaulted him the moment he stepped inside, an alarming aroma which could have only been Brian. No omega should have been forced to smell so foul in Hannibal's mind, beautiful creatures shouldn't have festered in terror. Slow steps guided Hannibal through the house, upstairs and along a hall into what must have been the master bedroom. There he found Marsden fast asleep in bed, naked with silk sheets pulled up just enough to provide some modesty; the alpha was practically inviting what would come next. Quietly, Hannibal set down his cooler on the dresser then readied his tools. Dolarhyde might have gotten the pleasure of more kills but Hannibal hadn't ever been one to value quantity over quality, his kill might would be art while Dolarhyde's would be a ventilation unit in people's heads. Dolarhyde had skill and a flare for the dramatic, Hannibal would easily concede that, but nobody would ever match up to his artistic prowess.
With scalpel in hand and the knowledge his omega waited at home for him, Hannibal buried the blade into Marsden's throat where he swiftly severed the vocal cords silencing the yelp that tried to escape his mouth. Hands shot to the wound as he flailed about in a desperate attempt to repel his attacker, but Hannibal had been prepared for this and caught Marsden's right fut only to sever through the Achilles tendon there before doing the same with the other to prevent running or any real fight. A larger knife soon had the infraspinatus muscles of both shoulders irrevocably damaged; Marsden couldn't have fought no matter how hard he tried. With hardly any real effort Hannibal had taken the other alpha's voice and ability to flee. His eyes filled with horror as Hannibal readied himself for the task at hand, alpha fear soon pushed that of Brian from the bedroom along with the tantalizing scent of crimson blood. It soaked into the sheets, dripped down onto the floor in sticky beads, steadily decorated a house which craved something beyond bland.
"No, don't try to move," said Hannibal calmly. "There is no point. You can think and feel, but I have removed your ability to speak or escape for the time being. All you'll do is hurt yourself further and drag things out."
Hannibal's micro smile as he pulled the sheets off the other alpha might have been more terrifying than the pain and blade. Sure enough he could wriggle, probably crawl given half a chance, but this alpha would have cut him to shreds long before he managed it. Hannibal gazed at the canvas which was this naked man's shivering flesh. What would Hannibal paint? What masterpiece would his scalpel's brush strokes create? Oh, he knew exactly, he also knew Oliver Cornwallis would be the other half of the painting.
"I'm sure you're wondering what has delivered you to this fate, I'll tell you." Hannibal was considerate like that. "Actions have consequences, Mister Marsden, consequences we must all pay for in the end. Best to face them with pride and a head held high rather than cowering away from them. The omega you purchased from Marcus Delamare, he means very little to me, but he means a great deal to the one I love. He wants you to suffer and pay for your crimes in a way only I am capable of carrying out. You and your kin are a scourge on this world, you will be cut out and removed like a cancer." He leaned in close to Marsden's face then as the man tried to wriggle enough to get off the bed. "You have raped and abused omegas for the majority of your life. It shan't be tolerated any longer." With that Hannibal shot back to his full height and clapped his gloved hands together a single time before carefully beginning to remove his face. "Nobody will ever have to look upon your visage again."
Marsden screamed as Hannibal worked, a dull, hardly audible sound Hannibal could have tuned out if he'd wanted to. The bloody alpha twitched in agony, adrenaline numbing the pain just enough to keep him awake and perpetuate his suffering. Hannibal may as well have been an avenging angel in that moment. One thing which wouldn't ever stop amazing the serial killer was just how smoothly the human face came away from muscle and bone when one knew how; almost like skinning a rabbit, just a few incisions and then a sharp pull to get it off. With Marsden's face removed and placed neatly inside his cooler, Hannibal return his attention to the rest of Marsden's naked body. Softly the scalpel was drawn from the bottom of Marsden's ribs to the base of his abdomen.
"The kidneys next, yes?"
He'd not expected a response, by this point pain had driven Marsden delirious, so he simply got to work as Dolarhyde appeared to lean in the doorway having finished killing. Curiosity had drawn him up to the bedroom, drawn him to see the blood and Chesapeake Ripper in action. While it might have been unclear what Dolarhyde had expected, the reality was … more. Just more. More dramatic, more mesmerising, more visceral. Hannibal Lecter a god before him.
"Why did you cut his face off?" Dolarhyde finally questioned.
"A man as lowly as this does not deserve an identity." The first kidney found its way to the cooler. "Furthermore, it has been some time since I recreated a painting, but I see an opportunity Misters Marsden and Cornwallis."
Dolarhyde's head cocked to one side and his eyes squinted momentarily. "You're going to let the police know their deaths are related?"
"But of course. Most law enforcement will never know exactly why they're connected, but those in Marcus' circle will understand the meaning. Frankly, the FBI will be more concerned with seeing such indications that the Chesapeake Ripper and Tooth Fairy have partnered." Out the corner of his eye Hannibal saw Dolarhyde tense at those words. "They like to sling demeaning nicknames, don't they? Worry not, Francis, those of any real importance know your true name, know you are magnificent."
The dark-haired alpha almost beamed but managed to contain himself at the last moment. Blood continued to pour from Marsden's useless body as Hannibal hollowed him out and, just for a few seconds, Dolarhyde wished the moment wouldn't ever end.
Kidneys, liver, lungs and eventually the heart, Hannibal removed just about everything from his victim with some of Will's favorite recipes in mind; Foie de Veau en Persillade avec Pommes de Terre would surely be first. Another deep cut was made to Marsden's right thigh where Hannibal carefully cut back the layers exposing white bone beneath. Then, lastly, Hannibal castrated the alpha. A shell now, that was all Marsden was. With everything inside the cooler, Hannibal replaced his gloves with clean ones then took up the rope he'd brought with them.
"What are you painting, Doctor Lecter?"
There was almost a childish curiosity to Dolarhyde that Hannibal admired. He bound Marsden's feet and ankles with one end of the rope then turned to face his fellow alpha and murderer.
"It's a recreation of The Corpses of the De Witt Brothers, have you heard of it?" Dolarhyde shook his head indicating he hadn't. Despite his attachment to a certain painting, he'd never really known all that much about art and didn't think himself that artistic; he'd never be like Hannibal. "It was painted around 1672 by Jan de Baen. A captivating piece depicting the mutilated bodies of Johan and Cornelis de Witt, they hang upside down with their bodies cut open. The original hangs in the Rijksmuseum, so why don't I make us our own?" With a smile and nod he turned back to his work. "I think that lovely staircase would be a good place to display him."
"Want help carrying him?"
"That would be most appreciated. Thank you, Francis."
With an extra set of hands it was fairly simple to get Marsden into place and the rope tied tightly to keep him there, arms dangling down onto the floor, skinless face pointed toward the front door and a glossy pool of red around his head. Outside littering the grounds lay the work of the Tooth Fairy while the inside was one of the Chesapeake Ripper's artistic creations that demanded to be looked at.
House silent and bloody, the serial killers moved on to their second objective of finding Brian. Hannibal could smell him, the stench of scared omega had infested every inch of the house, so the two alphas simply followed Hannibal's nose into the basement to find … nothing. A small laundry room and some gym equipment, that was all the basement held. That extraordinary nose of his being wrong was something Hannibal couldn't accept, that nose had sniffed out cancer before! Dolarhyde glanced into the laundry room in search of a secret door or crawl space while Hannibal peered around at the gym equipment. His nose was never wrong, so if it said Brian was down there then he sure as hell was down there. Maroon eyes spotted it then, a suspiciously neat stack of storage crates in one corner near the treadmill, they didn't belong. Hannibal removed them quickly revealing the small square outline of a hatch on the floor with a padlock.
"Let me pick that, I'm faster."
While the jury would likely reman out indefinitely on which of them could pick a lock faster, Hannibal didn't object to Dolarhyde kneeling down beside him to open the padlock. Frankly, getting it open was the main thing. Dolarhyde pulled the hatch open letting light spill into the small space below and reveal the full extent of Marsden's cruelty. Brian had been squished into the tiny square space like a child would shove a doll into a drawer. His knees had been pressed into his chest and his arms awkwardly pinned behind his back. Light hurt his dark eyes, made them water and sting, but he saw enough to realize neither of the alphas over him were his new owner. Had Marsden taken a leaf out of Jack's book and decided to start prostituting him for cash or his own amusement?
"You are all right now, Brian." Hannibal assured as he and Dolarhyde carefully prised him out of the hole. "Jimmy Price asked us to come get you. We're taking you home to him."
Rescue? Was that a real thing? Part of him, the distrustful part, wanted to rebuff the alphas and avoid falling for the cruel trick, to wait for Marsden to show himself and laugh at the omega's pain. However, Marcus nor Marsden had ever known about his feelings for the beta and Price had been talking about some kind of rescue before he and Beverly had been taken away. Just this once, just one more time Brian would have a little hope. That hope had him take Hannibal's proffered hand.
