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The only thing that mattered in the demon world was strength. It was strength that sustained them, allowed them to continue living for centuries, there was no mercy for the weak.
Hannibal was not weak, he was one of the strongest demons to have ever existed. It was not his age that gave him his power, most demons who lived as long as him became mindless beasts and faded away, sinking into the Earth and starving into nothingness.
Hannibal had not. His strength came from his diet. Most demons ate whatever they came across, devouring as many lives as they could, never satisfied, they existed by taking the strength of mortals. Men, women, children, deviants, even the weak and sick, it did not matter, all life was sacrificed in the pursuit of power.
Hannibal did not feed that way. He searched for quality prey, followed them and drew them in, when they were open and unafraid he took them. He only fed on the pure. There were not a lot of people in the modern world innocent or good enough to satisfy his taste and he savoured every life he took.
In a pinch there were children, sweet warm delicate children would do when he was hungry but he would rather not take a child. It was not a moral choice, he had no morals, but they were not what he preferred. Despite their unspoiled purity they did not satisfy his hunger.
He preferred a pure adult, one who was pure through self-denial and choice rather than age. That purity was what he longed for, even those born again were tasty. Nothing in the world was sweeter than the blood that sang in his veins when he devoured them, figuratively and literally.
His age and strength gave him abilities other demons could not even dream of. Most demons would burn from the inside out if they dared to approach holy ground and the sun was irritating at best, agonising at worst. Hannibal was unbothered by the sun though he preferred snowy winters and the eclectic air during an apocalyptic thunderstorm. He often frequented old churches as they were the perfect hunting ground.
He did not bother doing so on religious holidays. The churches were packed on those days, filled with non believers or those who believed but were unwilling to give up their day of rest every week, not good enough for his particular taste and high standards.
He was human once, had he been so picky with his food then? He could not remember but he sometimes wondered about who had been, what he had valued so long ago.
He liked to visit the church in the early morning when only the most pious were there. He had learned to read their auras and could pick out the truly devout. He liked to take them as they left the confessional booth, freshly cleansed of their sins, if they genuinely wanted it. He only wanted the ones that were worthy of His forgiveness, sincere in their remorse.
He had been watching a woman, the daughter of a vile evil man who had chosen to follow God’s path rather than his. Young and pretty, men flocked around her but she kept herself clean, waiting for marriage. She had a good heart and there was a warmth and sweetness to her scent that made him hunger. Rose. He wanted her.
He was about to follow her outside when he saw the young boyish man speaking to the priest. He was beautiful. Not a child but young, though all mortals looked childlike to Hannibal. He was soft looking, fluffy curls that reminded him of the long forgotten taste of melted chocolate and delicate attractive features. When he smiled Hannibal felt a rush of happiness and his blue eyes shone like the northern lights. Quite the most lovely creature he had seen in years. He focused his powers on the man, his aura. It was blinding, the man was no stranger to temptation but he resisted it all, even his own dark urges.
He could sense those urges and the strength it took for him to choose the path of righteousness. He silently moved closer and inhaled. A virgin too, he had not taken his vows yet but would soon. Even Hannibal found it hard to claim those who had given themselves completely to a higher power and he wanted this man for himself. It took all his considerable self-control to keep from snatching the man now and tearing into him drinking his crimson blood.
He lingered around the church, escaping the notice of anyone else and listening, learning. A gentle probing into the mind of some alter boys gave him information.
Will Graham, mid-twenties and set to take his vows in only a month’s time. Not long, but that did not matter. Hannibal was ready to feast, ready to dine on pretty Will that very night.
Once he had gathered what he needed he made to leave, he wanted his Will alone. At the door he paused and turned around. The man was looking at him. Their eyes met across the length of the grand building and Hannibal’s mouth watered. His gorgeous man’s bright eyes were intense, he could sense Hannibal’s overwhelming presence but showed not even a flicker or fear. Fascinating. Hannibal offered him a slow, predatory smile and left.
He returned to the pale stone building long after night had fallen. He was happy to see the doors were still open, ready to offer sanctuary to all. Will was alone, lighting candles by the grand marble altar. The fire light danced along the golden cross hanging at the centre of the church, but Hannibal was far more interested in the young man staring into the flames. He watched the way he moved, he was a little too thin. Hannibal suspected he had not experienced proper care in his short life. He smiled. Sometimes he desired a challenge but those who were neglected were always easy to take in, falling for his charms instantly. Foolishly trusting in him.
He moved silently down the aisle, the boy could not possibly have heard him but he reacted. He turned to watch Hannibal’s slow progress down the length and stood waiting for him at the end. “Hello,” Hannibal greeted politely.
“Hello,” Will responded. His voice was warm and rich with a faint southern twang. Hannibal had spent some time in New Orleans, probably before Will was even born, he thought that might be where Will hailed from.
“Are you from New Orleans?” He asked.
“Yes,” Will answered in mild surprise. Hannibal nodded. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to know about his past but he did.
There was something interesting about the young man but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He strode past Will to the altar, looking up at the stained glass windows beyond the cross. The windows were beautifully arched with intricate carvings in the stone surrounding them. The patterns featured shades of blue and green and made think of his boy’s eyes. He would look gorgeous spread out on the altar, naked and waiting for him. It was a shame he would go to his grave untouched. A terrible waste.
“You’re here very late,” Will observed, drawing closer.
“I was given to believe God’s house is open to all at any time,” Hannibal responded. He smiled at Will. “I am just a soul looking for spiritual nourishment,” he almost laughed at his own choice of words. If he had a soul it was a shrivelled mutated little thing, too far gone for any deity to touch.
“Can I offer you guidance?” Will asked, coming to stand next to Hannibal. Hannibal turned to face him fully.
“What is your name?” He asked.
“Will Graham.”
“I am Hannibal,” he said, closer than what would be considered appropriate, his tempting scent mixing with Will’s, his silken voice lulling him into a false sense of security, safety.
“Hannibal,” Will repeated and Hannibal couldn’t hold back a rumble of pleasure the way his voice wrapped around the name.
“Pleased to meet you Will,” Hannibal said, darkly thrilled with the way the name tasted on his tongue. He licked his lips and saw Will’s eyes follow the movement. “Truly a pleasure,” he purred, delighted with Will’s subtle reaction to the words. He pushed the boundaries further, placing a cool hand on Will’s flushed cheek. So warm, so soft. Will’s breathing caught but he didn’t step away, tied up in Hannibal hungry gaze and his electric touch.
Smiling tenderly, he placed his hands on Will’s slender waist. He really was thin, it didn’t matter, he would still make a decadent meal. He lifted him easily and placed him on the marble altar stepping between his legs. “Aren’t you lovely?” He said affectionately, any nervousness fleeing his slender body. His boy had resisted temptation all his life but he gave into Hannibal instantly, as if he’d been saving himself for him. The perfect sacrificial lamb.
He stripped Will of his pure white robes and the worn threads underneath until he sat naked in front of him, his pure angel. All his to feast upon. He raised Will’s wrist to his lips, lapping at the prominent veins and gently kissing the thin pale skin, almost able to taste his blood already. Cradling his fragile wrist gently, Hannibal pierced the skin with a sharp nail. The wound was not deep, blood trickelling over his pale skin.
Hannibal dragged his tongue along the stream of blood, moaning softly. Will tasted better than he could have ever imagined, pure and warm, velvety against his tongue. More flavourful and smooth than even the finest wine.
He drew back and licked the blood from his lips, admiring Will and his blissed out expression, his dick hard between his legs. His lips were parted and he gazed at Hannibal with naked devotion, a perfect canvas, begging to be marked, destroyed. Eventually.
Will’s lips were too tempting to resist and Hannibal claimed him in a kiss, full of need and tenderness. Will melted, his body turning to warm thick honey, inviting Hannibal to sink into him and drink him in completely. His lips were even sweeter than his blood and Hannibal felt warmth flood his body when Will’s fingers delved into his hair.
When was the last time he had been touched like this? He always put his victims into a dream-like state where they did not fight back but they never reached for him like this. He had slept with mortals and demons but sex became boring several centuries ago. He couldn’t recall ever feeling more aroused, almost mad with lust.
Lips still pressed firm against Will's, Hannibal pushed him back, climbing onto the altar with him and pressing his burning body against the cool stone. With a desperate whine, Will pushed at his designer jacket. Hannibal drew back and shed his clothing in seconds, moaning when his erection brushed against Will’s.
He knew the second he destroyed the young priest’s innocence his blood would turn but he did not care. For the first time in millenia there was something more important than feeding and that was Will. He no longer wanted to only feed on him, he wanted to claim him, inside and out.
He guided Will’s legs to wrap around his waist, pressing them closer. “Give me your consent Will,” he purred. “I want to hear you say yes,” he demanded, voice turning to a low growl.
“Yes, Hannibal I want you,” he said, voice a low husky whisper. “Want you so damn much,” Hannibal longed to hear him fill the still night air with his screams of pleasure. He could feel his demon form pulsing under the skin, the handsome human form he’d worn for centuries starting to fray at the edges.
He drew back and Will immediately followed, blunt teeth biting at his neck. Hannibal let out a beastial sound and pushed Will back, biting into the crook of his neck and lapping at the thin trickle of blood that flowed forth. He knew where to bite, how deep, enough to taste but not to kill him. Will was too sweet and enchanting to kill so soon.
Will’s mouth opened wider when he saw Hannibal’s face, his dark eyes a bright glowing scarlet and his teeth elongated and pointed, mouth unnaturally wide. His trembling hands came up to Hannibal’s face, tracing the inhuman sharpness of his bone structure and pressing his fingertips to his razor sharp teeth, gazing at him with reverence. He pulled Hannibal closer, kissing him with the same passion as before, offering him acceptance along with his desire.
Hannibal sucked on Will’s lower lip, a hand moving to grope his round ass. He pinned Will with a hand on his thundering heart as he felt his body pulse and transform. His muscles grew firmer, his body larger and heavier. His veins turned black and bulged from his skin, creating a pattern over his entire body and making him look like what he was, an evil, twisted and very powerful demon prince. Will watched him unflinchingly, never shying away but staring in adoration as he transformed above him. Hannibal raised Will’s still bleeding wrist to his mouth, flicking his long forked tongue over the wound and moaning at its sweetness.
Will’s eyes travelled down his hulking body to his cock, shuddering at the sight, his body warming several degrees and his heart beating faster. Hannibal sat up fully, displaying himself proudly. He brought a clawed hand to pump his monster dick, nearly a foot long, thick and covered in deep ridges, a thick knot at the base. Will bit his lower lips and lay back, splaying his legs and gripping the edge of the marble altar to brace himself. Hannibal caressed his cheek and pushed his legs up, admiring his tight virgin hole.
He brushed a knuckle over the small opening and felt his dear Will’s body shiver with pleasure. Hannibal dipped his head, lapping at the hole and stroking his thighs until he was relaxed enough to allow Hannibal’s long tongue entry. He stroked his insides with the tongue, pushing it in impossibly deep and striking the sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside him.
Will moans grew in volume and pitch as his hole was filled with drool and welcomed Hannibal’s appendage. Hannibal brought a thick finger to the opening, circling the hole and stimulating the skin there. Will looked so small and delicate under his full demon form. He drew back again and blew cool air over the hole, drawing on his slumbering powers. Will moaned as he felt himself grow slick and loosen, taking two of Hannibal’s fingers with only the slightest hiss of pain, heavily masked with pleasure.
Despite his sharp nails and bulging knuckles Hannibal made sure not to damage Will as he opened him up further. Will’s blood was too precious to spill due to impatience. He wanted Will to continue watching him with anticipation and want. Carefully, he twisted and scissored his fingers, working with his powers to ready Will for him. Even loosened it would be a tight fit and he could hardly wait.
“More, my love, more,” Will begged, his desperate impatience winning out. Hannibal kissed him deeply, swallowing his whine when his fingers withdrew. He continued kissing him as he pressed the dripping head of his dick to Will’s opening and thrust into him slow and deep. His smothered cry of ecstasy was intoxicating and Hannibal released his lips to hear it again, unhindered, as he pushed in further, filling him completely.
He was buried deep in Will’s body, the ridges of his cock stroking him in the most perfect spots and the thick bulging knot pushing against his opening, pleasure growing with every second. Will began to shake uncontrollably and Hannibal paused, letting him adjust. Will babbled incoherent pleas and grabbed desperately at Hannibal’s shoulders. When he felt ready to control himself Hannibal drew back and pushed back in with a rough growl, his knot catching on the rim of Will’s hole, making him gasp.
Will smelt like nothing else, drenched in sweat and arousal pouring off him in waves. Hannibal captured his wrist again and tasted his blood. Defilement always left the blood less flavourful but Will proved himself to be a wonder once again. The taste was even more divine than before, something Hannibal would have sworn was impossible.
The blood was as sweet as before but now held a unique and perfect spice, no longer just warm but burning hot. He bit into the wrist harder, releasing more blood and drinking it with relish. He dragged a finger over the wound and offered it to Will’s mouth. Will’s red lips wrapped around the digit, sucking eagerly and moaning wantonly. The sight of his cheeks hollowing out and drool running down his chin pushed Hannibal to the brink.
With a reckless push his knot slid past the tight ring of muscles, locking him inside Will’s warm, tight body. Will released his finger and threw his head back, his scream a high note of pure ecstasy and loud enough to shake the windows in their frames. Hannibal clutched him tightly, claws digging into his flesh as he came, filling Will’s inside and marking him as his own.
Will followed him over the edge a second later, hot streams of white coating them both and smearing between their torsos. Hannibal tenderly held Will to him as he sat up, settling Will in his lap, still locked inside his body. Hannibal stroked the back of his neck as Will rested his heavy head on Hannibal’s shoulder.
As their heart rates slowed, approaching normal, Hannibal’s body shimmered and his handsome human form returned. Will was content to stay in his arms, Hannibal’s chilled body a relief against his skin. Hannibal gently pressed his lips to the dribbling wound on his neck, lapping up the blood and sealing it closed. He did the same to his wrist, moaning as he lapped up the fluid already spilled.
The sun’s earliest rays were beginning to shine through the coloured glass. “I will come back to you tonight, my darling,” Hannibal promised, smiling with soft fondness when Will pouted and wrapped his arms more tightly around Hannibal. “Only a few hours, long enough for you to choose,” he soothed.
“Choose?” Will asked confused.
“You promised yourself to Him,” Hannibal said, even the most powerful did not dare say that name. “You may choose to return to that path,” the thought enraged him but Will’s willingness was the most appealing thing about him and he felt drunk on hope.
“How could I do that?” Will asked, his head now nestled comfortably against Hannibal’s chest. He made the option sound unthinkable.
“Confession, remorse,” Hannibal said. “If you truly desire absolution it will be given. He is terrific like that,” Hannibal was much less forgiving and he would ingest every atom of Will’s perfect body before he let heaven, hell or anyone else have him.
Will blinked up at him, stroking his cheeks and making Hannibal purr. “How could I possibly choose anyone but you?” He asked, pulling Hannibal into a deep kiss, pouring all his adoration into the action and curling himself around Hannibal, unwilling to let him go. “Don’t leave me, take me with you,” he insisted, not a plea but a command. “Keep me or kill me but do not leave me,” he said firmly.
“Tell me you are mine,” Hannibal urged, lips brushing his ear lobe.
“I’m yours, I want to be yours,” he said instantly.
“You always were,” Hannibal said. “I will taste you and fuck you every night. You are everything and I am going to keep you, for all eternity.”
Their coupling left a deep everlasting scorch mark on the marble altar and the promising young priest was never seen again.