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Charles Hermans
1880
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8 Months later

CHAMPAGNE never tasted so bitter before. The taste and the bubbles burned her tongue as acid. The lights blinded her with an intense morbid glow. The crowd never felt so overhwelming, futile, and strange.

A small group of musicians played melodically into a sophisticated melody, precisely La Campanella by Paganini. It matched perfectly with the distinct conversations and spicy hostile stares spread into the european air of an exotic parisian evening.

The blue jewells followed precisely the moment the leather jacket lithuanian walled through the saloon holding a helmet in his right arm. The presence even more oustanding as when she met him. The hair longer with bangs slightly covering his auspicious eyes, as he distributed discrete smiles just like their time in the old Baltimore Opera.

It was odd. Weird, how she used to know that man so well, so precisely that she believed she could predict every step of his. When, deep inside, she only knew a fraction of his true figure, wich revealed the whole picture now, into that exuberant night perspective in a predatory outlaw hunt.

She walked with caution through the sea of well dressed bodies in her high louboutins, the short way hair precisely framing her delicate yet strong expression as she brushed by a man's shoulder delicately, splashing champagne into his shirt.

"Oh! Je suis désolé! (I'm sorry!)" She exclaimed quickly hushing to waiter to grab some napkins.

The tall bearded man, almost her height, observed her figure with attention, his eyes sliding through the tight and long black dress with subtle flower partterns, an elegant, luxurious sight that could take anyone's bresth away.

Her hands softly brushed against his chest abov ethe shirt, as he delicately held them to stop the action. "C'est bon, ne t'inquiète pas. (It's okay, don't worry.)" He replied as she stepped back, still a bit embarrassed. "C'était un accident, ne t'en fais pas. (It's was an accident, don't worry about it.)"

She didn't understand shit about what he said, but, by the kind expression and also hungry gaze at her cleveage, she could guess he didn't mind at all. "Merci Monsieur. (Thank you, sir)" She smiled softly, making his whole body jitter towards her image.

She was stunning, indeed, and the way she acted, so delicately, so sweet, almost as a goddess it was impossible not to be seducted by it.

"Puis-je connaître le nom de la dame? (May I know the lady's name?)" He tried to make his game towards her, even aware of the engagement ring on his hand.

She blinked clueless. "Pardonnez-moi, monsieur, je ne parle pas très bien le français. (Forgive me, sir, I don't speak french very well.)" She said the phrase sge decorated in front of the mirror so many times.

"Ah, um..."He lifted his eyebrows. Of course she was foreign, an exotix beauty in his eyes. "American?" He tried to speak in a language she could understand.

"Brittish." She replied elegantly, as he celebrated internally now that she could understand him. "Do you speak english?"

"I've been to many conferences across the world, so certainly I do." He tried to show off. "You may know me, I'm Roman Fell, curator of the Capponi Library, in Florence, also an author myself." He standed his hand towards her.

"Roman Fell? Of course, I've heard much about your work sir. I must say, I am avid reader of your books. Alice Mallory" She tried to shake his hand but he led it to his lips, delivering a gentle kiss that she pretended to like. "How fortunate of me to meet you here."

"Is it fortune, Miss Mallory, or perphaps a plan of yours to bump into me and forcing our meeting?" He suggested. Her heart sunk into her chest for a moment in a crescent fear.

She faked a giggle. "Mr.Fell, you overestimate me. But I do wish i have thought about that strategy." She responded and escaped that dangerous situation she found herself in.

"Enjoying your evening, so far?" He asked.

"Much more now with your presence, Mr.Fell."

The man chuckled and adjusted his tie. "You're a charming one, aren't you?"

"I hear that a lot." She took a sip of the champagne as her gaze followed the other side of the saloon.

The hazel color meeting the blue in her eyes into a hostile, yet demanding stance, perphaps, possessive as well.

The dark clothes combined with the jacket gave him an adventurer youthful air as he standed in the middle of the crowd staring at her, pretending to be strangers who in fact knew their souls intimately.

"Anthony Dimmond." A man around his 30s introduced himself, his hair was a golden brown and the face was adorned with a slight discrete moustache in a playful expression.

"Boris Jarkov." The leather jacket man replied as Anthony approached, following his gaze across the saloon while holding the glass.

"I'd offer you a hand, but..." He showed the drink.

"You're occupied."

"Do you know Roman well?" He pointed to the man who spoke to Alice Mallory across the saloon. She softly laughed at a stupid comment of his and sedecutively place a hand above his chest. "You were staring with the thinly-veiled disdain of a man who does." Boris remained quiet. "I was his TA at Cambridge. He was insufferable even then. Have you read his books?" Anthony took a small wrinkled book from his suit showing it to him. "They're terrible." He whispered. "You know they're terrible, you're just too polite to say. Blink if you agree." The leather jacked man playfully blinked in a discrete smile to him. "See?That doesn't stop him squatting over his keyboard and depositing a fresh one every six to eight months. It takes me six to eight months to write one line."

"Why?" He let the man speak more.

"Poetry is hard."

"Too hard for Roman."

"Well, it's easier for him to slide into academia and dissect the work of others than it is to stand by his own words."

"One can appreciate another's words without dissecting them." He glanced at the middled aged man they spoke evil about and his young partner by his side, who never failed to charm him more and more. "Though, on occasion, dissection is the only thing that will do."

She was aware of the stares that burned her skin, not Roman's, but from another hostile man. She needed to leave that place at once.

"There is so many people in here." She waved her hand, almost as trying to find some air.

"Not a fan of crowds, Miss Mallory?" Roman Fell questioned, unable to look at her eyes on her face. She wanted to kill that man for that disgusting behavior.

"I try to avoid then when I can."

"Surely an impossible task, a lady like you must attract many gentlemen." He smirked.

"Perphaps that is true..." Her fingers cirles on his shoulders as she smoothly talked to him. "Sometimes it is a gift to attract them...since I can find distinguished and well deserving ones of my company within them." She lingered her eyes at his lips, Roman took a deep breath.

"Am I worth of your company and time, Miss Mallory?"

She grinned wickedly, leaning towards his ear and whispering "Only if you take me out of this crowd to somewhere we can be alone."

His body gained chills, the blood pumped into his veins and a hot wave of energy consumed him. She caught him under a spell.

He offered his arm to her, as a true 'gentleman'. "I could never forgive myself to stress yourself into this crowd, Miss Mallory, allow me." She smiled and intertwined his arm with his. "Would my residence suit your taste of silence and peace?"

"I guess I'll only be sure of it once we arrive." She played with him as a toy in her hands. "Shall we?"

And, in steady, chin held up high, steps, she used that man as the perfect ace to rid herself of that suffocating environment and reach freedom.

Well, freedom, that, she could never achieve.

"Bonsoir" The voice that haunted her dreams appeared. Her eyes immediatly paralyzed at the figure sitting in a motorcycle just at the exit of the event.

Roman Fell gazed at the leather jacket stranger with the bike light's on and staring at them. "Bonsoir" He replied not minding his presence and happily taking Alice with him until his car.

Her posture was rigid as she saw the man start the engine and promptly sail off before them.

"Would you like for me to turn on the radio?" Roman smiled lading a hand on her thigh, her face twitched in abmination for him and the iminent danger she already previewed.

"Just drive." She cut the good manners and the flirty girl play pretend. Roman saw that slightly surprised, but didn't mind, instead, he focused on the night he'd have with her once he'd arrive home.

Through the city of lights' streets, she could feel that bad sensation grow up coldly inside her stomach. She knew that deep inside she couldn't escape, she would never escape. No matter what strategy she could develop to get rid of him, nothing would ever change the situation that she got into.

After all, it was her fault.

Roman turned off the car and gently opened up the door so she could leave. Once they walked towards the building he lived, a familiar face could be spotin front of it, relied on the bike with a mocking discrete smile.

Alice Mallory sighed in sufferment, realizing that all her efforts were useless once she heard the hoarse voice again.

"Bonsoir."

▫️

"You could at least help me do the dishes." Hannibal Lecter muttered as he cleaned up the kitchen of the house where he brutally murdered the Fell couple.

Alice took off her snowflake earrings and glanced at him with disgust. "I'm not touching that." She got off the high heels, feeling uneasy by the murder she had just witnessed. Well, it has been like that for 8 months after all.

"You used to help me back at home. Why can't you do it now?"

"You know damn why." She furrowed her eyebrows. "Because I didn't know your...special buffets were made with people." Just the thought gave her nausea.

He tilted his head to the side finish it up the dishes and drying his hands with a fabric.

"Well, we should prepare to leave." He muttered.

"Leave?" She widened her eyes. "To where now?"

"Italy." Hannibal said while catching his jacket ans gazing at his fiancé. "And don't even try to fool me this time." His fingers lightly stroke her cheek. "I've got my eye on you."

"Not until I stab it out of your face." She threatned through her teeth, he chuckled.

"You're so adorable." He messed her hair with his large hand. "I love you."

▫️

8 Months earlier

The face was covered by a soft towel drying up the water that ran across his body, erasing traces of the carnage he comitted into that kitchen with the people he 'cared' about. His feet abruptely stopped from walking into the bedroom when a click echoed in the air.

He turned around to face his ex psychiatrist on the bed holding a gun pointed to him, by her side, a brunette that laid down unconscious.

"May I get dressed?" The nude Hannibal Lectee asked unbothered.

"You may." Bedelia responded, taking a deep breath. "What have you done, Hannibal?"

"I've taken off my person suit." He muttered drying up his long legs. It was quite distracting to be serious while talking to him in that current status.

"You let them see you." She seemed a bit surprised, gazing at the woman on the bed.

"I let them see enough." He buttoned up the pants.

"How does it feel...being seen?"

"You are in no position to ask, Dr.Du Maurier. You ended our patient - psyachiatrist relationship." He snapped back, already bitter over the previous episodes.

"I lacked the appropriate skills to continue your therapy." She looked at hin with sadness.

"I never found you lacking."

"I'm sorry I didn't provide you with a suitable substitute for therapy." She glanced at the poor Alice Mallory on her bed. Her hair was scattered around the pillow, using one of Bedelia's clothes, since Hannibal pratically invaded the therapist's house. "What have you done to her?"

"She is asleep." He simply said buttoning his shirt, the wet hair still dripping water in an entracing vision. "I've injected Pentobarbital. Found it between medication. She'll be unawake for 3 or 4 hours." He informed serious.

Bedelia watched him walk around the room. He didn't only seem serious, he seemed...bitchy. That would be funny if not harmful to others.

"Is Will Graham alive?" She asked, fearing his answer.

"Is this professional curiosity?" He responded back.

"Well, most entirely." She said smoothly.

Hannibal standed still, staring at the blonde woman. "Do you trust me?"

"Does Alice Mallory trust you?"

He kept himself quiet for a moment, watching the defeated angel in an intense sleep. "Not entirely." He replied.

"So do I."

"You trust the fact that I won't kill you." He replied somberly.

Bedelia looked straight into his hazel eyes, letting the gun down by her side above the matress. "Correct." She said calmly, taking a sip of her wine. "Not while she is here." They both glanced at the girl on the bed. "You don't want to fragilize her even more."

"You are psycho analyzing me again."

"What do you plan to do with her?" Bedelia asked curious. "I believe she does not follow your same ideals, after all. But you brought her with you."

"What do you suggest I should've done?" He questioned. "Killed her?"

"Is that what you've done to Will Graham?" Bedelia let it out, Hannibal silenced himself, confirming her suspicions. "It is more convenient for you to kill her. But we both know you wouldn't do it." She gave a soft teasing smile. "If you followed what is convenient for you, we wouldn't have this comversation and Alice Mallory would've never met you."

Hannibal stared at the window, the cold and rainy night continued mercilessly outside, just like when he left his house, one hour before, with Alice unconscious into his arms as the rain poured above them, letting the screams and the bloody tragedy behind.

"Are you going to report the FBI that I'm here?" He asked, without taking his eyes off the window.

"It is not my bussiness to get into." She excused herself from trouble. "Not anymore."

"But you still talked with Alice, didn't you?" His hazel eyes landed on her. "She asked about me, didn't she?"

Bedelia took moment to answer. "She recognized your voice."

Hannibal contained his hidden disappointment. He believed to have erased that possibility in Alice's mind. "May I ask what was her reaction?"

"She seemed...helpless, incredulous...injured." Bedelia spoke clearly. "She tried to believe in your innocence until the very last end."

Hannibal looked down, setting the towell aside as he thought about that dark future.

"I'll be leaving with her in 2 hours." He established. "I apologize from breaking in as an undesired guest. That won't happen again."

"Should I ask where you're taking her?"

"I'm afraid that if I told you any more details I'd have to kill you." He simply said as if that was a normal activity. Bedelia gulped.

"I shall respect your privacy then." She nodded. "Excuse me." She got up ready to leave. "And, Hannibal?" She turned to her ex patient one last time. "Remind yourself that once she wakes up...the situation won't be under your control anymore."

▫️

8 months later

Her blue eyes faced the landscape in movement outside the window. The train made her bodies tremble a bit by its' imlact on the rails. His sight was stuck on her figure.

"I am not sure if I should enjoy or hate your silence treatment towards me." Hannibal muttered, studying Alice's neutral and puzzling expression. "But maybe I should be thankful you're not screaming at me as you've done before."

"I realized once again that my tears won't solve anything." She shut down her emotions watching the trees pass away into the green landscape. "One thing will: Revenge."

"A vendetta." He savored the words, relying his back on his seat, watching her delightful yet angry image. "You still wish to kill me."

"Oh, I do." Alice commented. "You see, that is my main and unique goal at the moment."

"I'd be curious to know how you'd do it, darling." He smiled. "Could you please give me a piece of your mind?"

"Anything that could kill you fastly enough." She simply replied. "The fastest way to get rid of you."

He looked down, unable not to snort at her statement. Alice looked at him offended. "Even in your revenge you still attempt to be kind to me." Her eyes met his into a sufferable passion between them. "Or maybe to yourself."

"You're being delusional."

"You don't want me to suffer, since you love me." He tilted his head. "You want a fast solution so you won't regret what you've done, so you can finish it and don't watch me in pain." He replied confident enough to make her slightly bothered. "Or maybe I'm being delusional."

"Yes, you are." She turned her gaze back to the landscape, shifting her position on her seat, bothered by his statements.

"Farewell." He nodded slowly. "But I do see the silence treatment as a progress."

"Great." She spoke coldly. "Get used to it, once you're dead, all you'll have is the silence."

▫️

8 Months earlier

Her eyes blinked slowly, still in the darkness as dinstict lights illuminated her strange surroundings. She could see though, familiar sweet eyes in her direction, the hazel glistening by watching her finally awake.

"Hanni..."She mumbled in a soft smile, lifting her had in the air to caress those diamond shaped cheekbones, as he melt completely into her touch. "I...I had a nightmare..."She was finally adjusting her sight, the sympytoms of the medication started to fade. "A nightmare where..."She finally looked properly at him.

A shock wave hit her as a tsunami. The whole body bacame rigid, the jaw dropped, the face twitched in horror. She tried to speak but the words failed her. All she could do was give a high pitched screen and try to leave, realizing she was inside a car. A locked one.

"Alice. Alice, please." He tried to hold her arms as she scratched the door handle to leave as an encaged animal.

"Let me go, let me go!" She whimpered desperate trying to break free, hitting the door as the hair strands fell above her wet teary face.

Hannibal held her shoulders, and with some strentgh, without hurting her, pulled her back to her place on the passenger's seat, making her face him.

"Alice. Alice, listen to me. Stop it." He ordered as her body shaked in rebelty.

"What do you want from me?" She sobbed trembling in horror. "Are you going to kill me too?"

"You know I would never do that to you." He spoke softly. "I only want what's best for you, Lissy."

She shut close her eyes and tried to hold the urge to cry, letting only a soft whisper free her lips. "Then let me go." Hannibal watched her tense, feeling something ache inside her chest. "Please, just let me go..."

How could she ask that to him? How could she ask that after all the promises and confessions they've made? Alice made him become vulnerable, intimate and attached to her. Falling in love with her was a path he followed with no return. He realized that without her, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't live.

"I can't do that." He whispered back as she collapsed her head bavk to the seat, mourning her future in a crescent agony. "Alice, darling, I know you're sad-"

"You killed my sister!" She groaned with a gutural voice. "You killed everyone...you killed..." Her breath stopped for a moment realizing the tragedy. "...Will." Her tears glistened by the moonlight. "No...'She whispered trying to deny the pain inside of her. "No...not Will..."

It would be a lie if he didn't admit that Alice's grief for Will hurt him, it did. He knew she cared for him, cared almost as she did for Hannibal, the only one who she loved as much. And now he had killed him.

Hannibal faced the street outside, took a deep breath procceding with his plans. "I need you to clean up your tears and follow me now."

"I'm going nowhere with you." Alice growled through her teeth.

"You will." He said otherwise. "I strongly suggest you to do this if you don't want any more problems." He threatned her, knowing the psichological pressure would make her obey him.

Alice took a moment to answer, knowing there was no place to go and to escape. She was stuck to him.

"Do as I say. Stay by my side." He demanded as he left the car holding strongly her hand as they walked. Her sight recognized the huge area they entered, the airport. They were leaving...to where? She needed to escape from him.

The airport was more crowded than she expected, even in a late evening as that one there were plenty flights set on the eltronic pannels displated around the huge building.

Lights illuminated the path where many passengers held luggage and passaports in their hands. Hannibal also did, he had one bag and two passaports in his hand. Where did he get them from? She had no idea. One thing was for sure, he had a plan, and she needed one as well.

As they followed to the terminals her heartbeat increased more and more. The security as incredible as it seemed didn't stop them. Probably no one has sent reports yet that Hannibal was a criminal, and his passaports were nothing to worry about, since as she landed her eyes on it, she could recognize they were fake.

How long has he planned that? Hannibal always had a plan B. He probably waited for that moment, to escape with Alice if he needed to. He was always a step ahead.

Passing through security they headed to the gates when Alice abruptely stopped on her feet.

"What is it?" He looked at her.

"I need to go to the restroom." She muttered.

"Now?" He lifted one eyebrow not convinced.

"Yeah." She hoped he would understand.

"Our flight leaves in 10 minutes. We need to go to the gates."

"I know, but I need to go now." She insisted. "Or are you going to forbid me from doing that to?" Alice snapped back.

This time she did affect him. Hannibal sighed, definetely not pleased, and led her until the restroom, waiting outside as she entered, hoping to find a way to escape.

Looked at herself on the mirror, wearing clothes she barely knew where they came from, as other women prepared their make up and chat distinctively, not concerned aboyt anything, unaware to the danger in Alice's life.

She quickly reached one of them that was alone, a woman the same age as her, blonde and simply dressed. Her expression was calm, friendly, and she was very polite.

"I'm sorry miss, but could you please help me?" Alice reached her, trying not to frighten the woman.

"Sure sweetie, what's up?" She asked expecting to be something simple.

The other women left the bathroom, Alice glanced at the door for any sign of danger.

"I was kidnapped by a man, he killed my friends and he's taking me somewhere I don't know." Alice spit it out as the woman widened her eyes at her. "Please, I beg you, please help me." She held her hands tight, as the woman looked at her surprised.

"Wait, calm down. Calm down." She tried to understand the situation. "What's your name?"

"Alice. Alice Mallory." She responded desperate.

"I'm Tatianna." She answered. "Alice, are you sure about this? Who is this man?"

"His name's Hannibal Lecter...he used to be my boyfriend but...I discovered he's a criminal, please, you need to help me. I don't have much time."

Tatianna took a deep breath, still unsure if she should believe the woman, but nodded. "Okay, come with me, we'll reach the security."

"Thank you, thank you so much really."

Tatianna headed with Alice outside the bathroom, and as soon they reached outside Alice's eyes paralyzed at the man who looked at her deadly serious. He knew what she was doing.

"Dove? Dove, darling." He approached them and touched Alice's shoulder, she instinctively avoided him. "Dove, it's me, Richard."

"Who are you?" Tatianna came foward, protecting Alice.

"I am Richard, her husband." He calmly said.

"I don't see a ring on your finger." Tatianna analyzed the man. She was smart.

"That's because she threw it away at a river 3 days ago. Dove, what have you told this woman?" He appeared gentle the whole time.

"Her name's not Dove." Tatianna snapped back. "Now you must excuse us."

"That's what she told you. She does that a lot." He crossed her arms. "Let me guess, she told you I'm Hannibal Lecter, a killer."

Tatianna glanced at Alice, she hided herself behind the woman with fear. "Yes, she did."

Hannibal sighed, faking perfectly. "My apologies for involving you into this. My wife suffers from a severe psychotic disorder. She tends to twist fiction with reality. Sometimes she can't recognize me and creates these...characters and narrative of her own." Hannibal showed their passaports to the woman. "See? Dove Fanning. Richard Fanning."

Tatianna's expression changed, like she was starting to believe him.

"He is lying." Alice muttered to her. "Please don't listen to him, let's go."

"Wait." The woman said to her, holding her hand. "Can you prove what you're saying?"

"Of course." He took a document from his pocket " It is a psychotic disorder. She was diagnosed 8 years ago by her psyhiatrist, Bedelia Du Maurier, as the documents says. You can google her if you want to, she is a very well known professional." He calmly said.

The woman read the paper meticulously planned for that occasion. Alice glanced at Hannibal, previewing the result as Tatianna gave him the paper.

"I am so sorry." She told him and delivered Alice's hand to him. "I had no idea."

"It is completely fine. She can be pretty convincing." He replied politely. "Thank you for taking care of her."

"No problem, have a safe trip you two." Tatianna smiled. "Take care, Dove" she tapped her shoulder.

"No! No! Wait! Come back, please! He is lying!" Alice shouted but the woman ignored and left.

His hand tightned around hers, reassuring her to the mistake she committed. He whispered at her ear. "Don't do this ever again. Do you understand?" Alice gulped terrified. "I am so disappointed with you, Lissy." He regained his composture and led her towards the gates, hearing as their flight was announced in the speakers.

"You can't keep me locked forever" She warned him.

"Maybe." He showed the security their tickets. "But I'm willing to take my chances."