Hannibal to the Rescue?

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters
Note: If you have not read the book, or seen the movie “Hannibal.” Then there are spoilers in this chapter.

It had been the newscast that had caught his attention, Ex Special Agent Starling had been abducted and apparently her life was in danger. It was nice to see her again although her being locked in some sort of dark cage didn’t appeal to him. She had always kind of been to him as Beatrice had been to Dante. Whether it was her courage, or her strong sense of justice he really didn’t know. But he had once drawn a clock depicting Christ on the Cross but Christ had Clarice‘s head. Did he think of her as his Lord? Really he always though of her as a muse, there fore he had thought of her and Christ as the same, really though that doesn’t mean he thought of her as his Lord. On another note controlling her seemed pleasing, though he knew likely he would never have full control.
Now that she had been abducted what could he do? What was he to do? Wait until they saved her and then send her a note. No if he left it up to them, most likely she would never be saved. He felt as if it was up to him to save her, as she had did him not more than six months ago. If he could save her he might could redeem himself in the long dead Mischa’s eyes. Though saving things usually would not be his style, instead he usually brings untimely endings to things. Clarice being the savior and him the destroyer but he did protect her from the bureau, trying to keep her pure.
His mind raced deciding what to do. If he managed to rescue her would she welcome him with open arms, or try and turn him into the bureau someway. He walked as his mind raced until he arrived at home. Something was very wrong, things were not in order, books were lying in places were he would never put them. Then he found a small paper lying on his table. It was a note, probably from one of the maids, but he read it:
“Dr. Lector,
Shall I just get to the point? Our precious Ms. Clarice is now in danger. You should know this by now yourself. You are probably getting ready to rescue her am I correct? I hope you do. It would be nice meeting such an accredited man in the same business. For years I have thought of you as my contender, but now, maybe I will rise to be better than you. After all you were caught, and though I have been in business for years I have not. Now though I am about to come out of hiding. Everybody will fear me, as they once did you, though their fear for me will be deeper than even the fear of God.
Doctor just to mention a few more things, Clarice is buried underground. She is ventilated as of now, but within forty-eight hours the ventilation will end, and soon after that her air supply will deplete. Then your dear Clarice will die, if the bugs don’t kill her first. We wouldn’t want her to die before we could have some fun now would we? After she dies, maybe she will be my first victim since I decided to come out of hiding. Should I fuck her, after she is dead, or just eat her?
Will she taste like that petty sister of yours Mischa? I am sure you have tasted her. Will you cry as you cried while Mischa was being eaten. Tell me now doctor, should I save some of your precious Clarice for you? I may send her sweetbreads to you as a gift.
Check your laptop there you will see a direct video feed via web cam, of Clarice in her grave. Go now Doctor time is not on your side.
An Old Pal.”


Dropping the note like an Autumn leaf in the wind, he walked to his laptop. It was left on standby so it came on quickly. As soon as the screen lit up he saw Clarice in her cage. She was beating at the lid to no avail, the look of desperation obvious to any viewer. He walked to the telephone in his study and dialed a number.
“Yes, this is Mr. Wolfe. I am planning on taking a holiday, are there any tours of America available. Yes. As soon as possible. Okay good, good thank you ta, ta .” He sit down there was no need to take anything but the laptop, for he had vast necessities in America already. He made sure the battery would last on the portable computer and packed it. Of course the internet was wireless on it thus he didn’t have to worry about a connection anytime.
At last he was on the plane, it took almost an hour to get to the airport and pick up his passports and ID, and then he had to go through security which took about four hours. Finally he was on his way toward the new world.
Lucky for him the seat beside of his was empty, therefore he would have a little privacy. After a while he checked the video feed once more, nothing new. Now she lay there observing her surroundings, looking hopeless, defeated. He closed the computer once more. He lay his head back and decided to try and relax. Suddenly the back of his seat jumped, he ignored it. Then it jumped again, he looked back to see a teenaged boy wearing black clothing kicking his seat.
“Hey old man what was that you were watching?” the boy asked. Hannibal looked back around very annoyed. “Come on tell me, was it some kind of porn or what?” Hannibal ignored him once more, and retreated to his ‘memory palace’. The first memory he visited was of his first actual interaction with Clarice without a cage or any kind of confinement. The kiss kept replaying in his mind, it actually meant more to him than most of his other memories. Most think of him as uncaring, uncompassionate, and even unfeeling, but they were wrong. Actually there weren’t many things he cared for, maybe you could count them all on two hands and have a finger left. He liked, fine food and wines, fine music and theater, cars, art, great views, his memories, and Clarice. Although Clarice wasn’t necessarily at the end of the list.
Suddenly his mind wandered to memories he didn’t particularly want to visit at the moment. Memories of hiding in the barn, and of Mischa. He could hear her screams, then the screams became Clarice’s. Now he could see her lying in her grave a shadow figure of a man standing over her the man taunting her, and then ’Noooo!’. He retreated from the memory palace, at the speed of a peregrine falcon.
He looked around and wiped the sweat off of his brows. ’Clarice, don’t give up. If the feds don’t rescue you first I am coming. This maniac has crossed the line, he will not touch you lest I kill him.’
He opened the laptop and looked at the screen once more, she was still there, looking just as hopeless as ever. He gave the laptop a saddened smile then he closed the top. She lay there looking hopeless, just as hopeless as he pictured Mischa to look before she had been eaten. He knew that Mischa had called out for him to save her, but if Clarice thought she was dying would she call out for him? He doubted it. She would hide her fear and let the end come if it came to that. He sat there making a silent promise that it wouldn’t.
Her image lay drawn in his mind, her laying there looking hopeless. He wished he could get into her grave with her and lay there with her, comforting her, and telling her how he felt. Not that he understood his feelings himself. This was completely new to him, yet it was so very old that he could have felt it from the beginning of time itself, if he had been alive that long. Which was worse not having control over the feelings you feel for someone, or not having control over the way someone feels about you?
Seven hours later the plane landed. He was back in the USA in New York. He was going to see Clarice again, that is if he could save her. He could easily, and murder the idiot son of a bitch that had done it to her. If she wished he would feed the idiot to her he would. Not that she ever would wish such a thing.
He made his way to the best dealer around and bought a black, 1994 Mustang Cobra Limited Edition. Then he left. He had made reservations to stay at an inn before he had left. He stopped at the inn long enough to check on her again, it had been around 35 hours since she had been buried. He had about 13 hours before her ventilation would run out, then roughly six or eight hours before her air supply would completely be depleted. He watched her on the screen for a moment and began looking for the IP address. After wasting about an hour with IP addresses he laid the laptop down and began to think. Suddenly the hotel phone rang. He answered.
“Hello.”
“Dr. Lector I see you came. Good for you. Now do you really want to save Ms. Starling?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll help you, but first you must tell me a little something about Ms. Starling? I‘ll give you one hint as to her whereabouts for each question you answer.” The anonymous male voice said at the other end of the receiver. “Come on doctor, you poor darling Clarice is running out of air. What will it be?”
“What do you want to know?”
“What made you help her catch Buffalo Bill all those years ago?”
“I never helped her, I made her look with a new perspective on things dealing with the case.”
“But why doctor?”
“Because she uh…
“Come on doctor tell me.”
“She earned my respect.” Hannibal says
“There was no attraction to her at all? Didn’t you want to fuck her, or eat her?”
“I answered the first question, now tell me your hint?”
“Where do you usually find people buried at Dr. Lector?”
“A cemetery.”
“Correct. A cemetery is not where Clarice is. Now answer me doctor the first time you saw her did you want to fuck her or eat her?”
“Neither of the two.”
“Come on, answer me, poor little Clarice is laying there awaiting you.”
“Okay a little of both.” Lector says
“Good, your well earned hint is, she is not very close to where you are.”
“Is she in Washington?”
“I’ll tell you but first tell me did you ever fuck Agent Starling?”
“No. Now tell me!”
“She is not in Washington.”
“Where is she?”
“You should be receiving a package within minutes. Now tell me, when she suffocates underground would you like me to send you her heart?”
“Listen you fucked up son of a bitch, she is not going to die!”
“Well I hate to leave you hanging doctor but I must visit your Clarice’s grave.”
“Damn it!” Lector says as he hangs up the phone. Hannibal got up and began pacing around the room. Moments later a knock on his door and he peeks out. A man in his mid thirties is standing there holding a package. He lays it down and greets the good doctor before walking away.
“Hey wait a second!”
“Yes can I help you?”
“Where was this package sent from?”
“Adaline, West Virginia.”
“Thank you.” Lector drags the box into the room and opens it carefully. Inside is a brown Louis Vuitton handbag, a gray windbreaker, two magazines with articles written by himself, a white tee-shirt and black shorts, the clothing had Clarice‘s scent. He sniffed and sniffed feeling himself of the aroma that was simply Clarice. Then he opened her handbag. Inside was an organizer, a jar of skin cream, a picture of her standing beside the old mustang, a pamphlet about Italy, and car keys. He opened the organizer to find, about ninety dollars in cash, a check book, her credit cards, drivers license, a passport, one intercontinental airlines ticket, and a small newspaper cutout of himself, although it wasn’t of his new face.
He thought about her in Florence a moment and smiled before placing all of her things back in her bag. He grabbed his coat and hat, then his laptop and headed out of the room. First he decided to stop by her home in Washington provided the FBI wasn’t crawling all over the place, then he would go to West Virginia. Maybe it was not the best clue to follow, but it was all he had. He drove as fast as the other drivers were going until he came to a long stretch of open road. Then he accelerated is as fast as it could go. About six hours later he was driving down the street Clarice lived on. He saw the police cars, the vans, and the suits walking around her house. He drove on.
About an hour later he was in Adaline, West Virginia. He stopped and looked at the video again. She was still there breathing. He sighed and touched her face on the screen. “Clarice, I will find you.” He retreated into his memory palace and began looking through old records of where she may have lived. Not finding a single record he began to leave the palace. Suddenly he heard a scream.
“Dr. Lector!” She screamed. He began running down the halls in his memory palace searching for her. The screams became louder and louder, almost unbearable. Suddenly there she was standing smiling at him. Then as quick as he seen her a man grabs her from behind hauling her back against the wall. The man a smiling face of a shadow with red glowing eyes looks at him.
“Hannibal ‘the Cannibal’ Lector isn’t it? Well good evening doctor, would you like to hold her while I fuck her, or should I hold her while you do the job. She’s waiting doctor. Then I will cut her heart out and feed it to you. You know we are quite alike you and I.” “I am nothing like you!” Lector yelled screaming aloud drawing himself out of the palace. He looked around sharply his eyes sparkling with each passing vehicle. He reached up to wipe the sweat drops from his forehead, then he looked back at the laptop. There she was lying there her expression had turned even more hopeless. “Clarice, hang on, I am coming.”
What was it that troubled him so about her being buried alive, did he love her? Was it because he wanted her? Was it because she seemed to view him as a man, not a monster the most of the time? Was it because he felt he was the only one that had the right to torment her? Or was it because like him she was an orphan? No, no, no that wasn’t it, it was more complicated then that. He loved her, and it wasn’t something he really wanted to feel for this ex special agent whom could have had him captured if she had really tried and this love wasn’t something he nor anyone else could stop. In fact this love could bring him to his own demise.