Chapter Text
The chairs in Hannibal Lecter's office were the kind of stiff that made you want to sit anywhere else, but just plush enough to convince you that you can wait an hour. In short, they were the right blend of uncomfortable to get you to talk so you could leave sooner. Hannibal knew this, and of course was very proud of his chairs. Will also knew this, and would take every opportunity to walk around and lean against Hannibal's multiple desks rather than sit and stare at each other.
This week, of course, Hannibal had brought up how Will was called in for a new case after a long while without one.
"This killer just doesn't make sense," Will insisted, "When I looked into the scene, it was only one being. The wolf and the human were the same, had the same intent." Hannibal frowned.
"And yet Jack believes the wolf to be only a trained animal." Will sighed, pushing his hands on his knees and standing up. He walked slowly around the room, hesitating by the ladder.
"Even the most trained wolf would fight back somehow. Dogs disobey all the time, so a wolf? Plus it would have to be ordered, given the rarity of wolf attacks." He paused. "How could you convince a wild animal to attack someone with no more motive than an order?" Hannibal tilted his head to the side.
"You must remember, Will, that animals have no morals. Training is motivation enough for a beast such as wolf. And even then, neither the wolf nor the killer cared that their victims were still alive when they removed the bone." The room was quiet for a moment as Will pondered this.
"Alright. Moving on, then, why the rib? The 11th rib specifically?" Hannibal nodded in response.
"The 11th and 12th ribs are called 'floating ribs', as they are not attached to the breastbone. They're more liable to cause medical problems because of this, and also easier to remove. If this is truly an amateur anatomist, they would want something simple."
"The 12th rib is more isolated from bone than the 11th."
"Yes, but the 11th rib is larger. They may want a more sizable trophy." Will shook his head and rubbed a hand across his forehead.
"There's something more to this." Hannibal hummed.
"There could be a religious reason." Will raised an eyebrow.
"Like what? Building catacombs out of bones?" Hannibal shifted in his seat, adjusting his coat.
"No. In some interpretations of the book of Genesis, God created Eve from a part of Adam. The direct translation is from his 'side', but many believe it to be 'rib'."
"And all of the victims so far have been men... So this person is Jewish or Christian posing as God to create a person of their own?" The two men made direct eye contact.
"It is very likely. Farther than the assumption that Eve was born of a rib, it is that the rib was the 11th or the 12th." Will stared at the window, leaning on a bookshelf.
"The killer is desperate. Desperately trying to bring someone to life - or back to life." He glanced at Hannibal. "Most likely a woman, then. Eve, the first mother.." Will turned to face Hannibal again, "An abandoned child, perhaps?" His face fell, grief filling his demeanor. "Another Abigail Hobbs. Longing for their mother." Hannibal looked at Will curiously.
"Maybe this child can be saved." Will looked out the window again.
"I hope so. More than anything."
-- 8:56 PM, Wolf Trap, Virginia --
While it might be assumed that Will Graham's dogs doubled as a security measure, most had been found wandering or taken from abusive home, which meant most were anxious or traumatized. As a result of this, Will Graham himself acted more as a security measure for his house than any of his canine pets.
His dogs, however, were very loud when they knew something was wrong. It was a windy night, and a strange, strong smell floated through the woods. As his dogs all perked up and started barking, Will set down his book and glanced out the window. Nothing was visible, but it was already too dark to see clearly around the house, much less several hundred feet away.
Will grabbed a knife - he kept one by the door now -, a flashlight, and stepped out of the house. The smell was now strong enough for him to follow the scent as well as one of his dogs could.
The harsh metallic aroma of blood provides a clear path, and Will followed it with only a little hesitation. A man living essentially in the middle of the woods couldn't afford to be a wuss. Farther and farther into the forest he went, until a rustling in a clearing caught his attention more than any smell could. Before Will could even decide whether to approach of freeze, a sizable animal bounded out of the clearing in the opposite direction. Will waited till the sound of its flight had gone, then stepped forward to see the gorey remains of now the fourth victim.
The shine of his ringing phone lit up the underside of the trees and the topside of the snow.
-- 7:12 AM, The Crime Scene --
Though a new body meant more evidence, all the evidence was exactly the same as the first three. This meant Zeller was still in a mood, and Price was still disappointed. Of course, Jack had been drilling Will for information since last night, and since there really wasn't anything but a slight wolf sighting, Jack was pissed as well.
"Will, you're sure you didn't see anything else. Nobody there with the wolf, nobody hiding in a bush, no tools left behind?" Will shook his head for the umpteenth time.
"I've told you, no. Nothing other than the wolf." Over by the body Price was inspecting the wounds while Zeller grumbled over the background files of the victims.
"Apparently all these guys have been hunters," he sighed, "Ones with more than deer heads on their walls, too. I'm talking full wolf fur rugs in the living rooms of two of these guys; but even if this were motivated by wolf scarcity, how could the killer know about this?! And this latest murder? This last hunter? He hadn't even touched a shotgun since 1989, yet the killer still knew that he used to shoot primarily wolves!" He slammed the files down on a stump angrily. Price shook his head.
"Plenty of serial killers read up on their victims. It's not too surprising that a killer wolf would kill wolf killers." He chuckled at his bad wordplay while Zeller shot him a look.
"Yeah, well... Well it's surprising. This killer might be motivated by more than just a bone if he's willing to search for hunters instead of killing any old Joe." Will sauntered over to hear this and joined in.
"It might be that they want to avoid random 'Joe's. Someone who feels a need to kill would want to kill only those who deserve it in their mind, and further, someone who keeps a wolf would think the worst possible thing to be is a hunter." Price nodded appreciatively.
"Personal morals make a very good motivation." Zeller grabbed the files and huffed off towards a patrol car. His forensics partner looked after him worriedly.
"He's... Not doing too well. I'll have him round for supper or something and cheer him up." He stood and followed Brian to the car.
Will looked around the clearing where he had been just 10 hours before. It all seemed to make sense to the FBI, but behind all this there could only be one figure... Perhaps a child, at that. He hoped he could find them before they ruined their chances of any life out of prison or an institution. Some people needed guidance more than punishment.