Chapter Text
The sight Hannibal had laid his eyes on was something to behold. He took a deep breath before stepping underneath the yellow tape. A border between the bystanders and police. His eyes barely left the body in front of him. A woman, maybe around his age, pinned to a tree. Her hands right above her head, pinned by an antler. A pair of antlers also stuck out of her head. They were huge. A good buck must have died for it. Hannibal’s face scrunched up as he took a white mask out of his pocket. The stench was too much for his sensitive nose.
He made his way over to Jack Crowford and Co. He stood quietly behind them, waiting. They were talking about how the body was dressed. A flowing black dress, with an open part in the middle of her chest down to just above the belly button. Right in that opening was a long, stitched cut. Hannibal would never say aloud how beautiful it looked. His eyes lingered on the body more than he had liked. He wasn’t attracted to it, just fascinated. Before he could help himself, his legs moved towards it. He was trying to see anything of use. This killer didn't seem to leave anything of note besides the dress and antlers. Hannibal tried to think of what it meant.
“Is it him?” Jack’s voice cut through Hannibal’s thoughts.
“Depends on if the organs are missing,” Hannibal replied. He didn’t even look at Jack. “It has his antler staple. Do you notice anything about the dress?”
“No. Besides this opening. He probably took the organs out through there, but why stitch it back up? Poorly too. Our man isn’t a surgeon I can tell that much,” Jack said pointing at the stitches.
“It’s a wedding dress. Black though,” Hannibal pointed out. He already had a pair of gloves on before walking over here. So he was able to touch her hands. She wasn’t that strung up high. “Look at this, an indent where her ring is supposed to be. My guess is she’s a widow.”
“So he knew that she was married, and dressed her up in this? The more I think we get on him, the more shit he leaves us.”
Hannibal simply hummed in agreement. He took a step back. This killer, the Celtic Ripper, had done something new. This killer has been around for three years, killed in sounds of three every three months. Nobody has caught him. His kills have always been… interesting. Artistic. In a very savage way. Even before Hannibal became a profiler, he was into this killer. It was always a big talk about it while he was still going through school. He knew from the moment he heard about the Celtic Ripper, he was going to catch him.
The Celtic Ripper also always took at least one organ. Chunks of flesh had usually been missing as well. He made sure to take an organ though. Everyone had agreed this was a cannibalistic killer. It was always randomly picked, no pattern at all. The flesh had usually been the more ‘meatier’ parts of the body. Usually thighs. A few they had even found deep bite marks, but no saliva. It was weird. Hannibal’s best guess was he knew he couldn’t resist a bite, but used some sort of plastic wrap to not leave a trail from his mouth. He was a savage, but a smart one. A scary combination.
This kill though, was not like the others. Hannibal had quickly started talking to the others. Zeller told them that there were no usual flesh taken. No bite marks. They had to take her to the morgue to see what organs he had removed. Hannibal wondered though why there were so many flies around her. She had hardly been dead that long. He was still trying to think of why the killer had set her up like this as they began to take her off the tree. However, someone pulled her off too quickly, probably a newbie, so her body slumped right down forward. Everyone gasped, stepping back, and began to feel sick seeing her back. Expect Hannibal.
Hannibal took a step forward. The stench was awful, but he pushed past it. Her entire backside was gone. An open carcass. Majority of her organs were gone. Hannibal knelt besides her corpse. What is going through the mind of this killer?
. . .
Hannibal stood close by Beverly as she examined the body. They had all gathered close to the body. It was bloody, disgusting, and beautiful. They didn’t see before, but Hannibal had smiled underneath his mask. He couldn't help but admire it. As crazy as that sounded. He didn't mention it of course. He just admired that the killer finally took a more, artistic approach. Hannibal does value art, in any form. He had also briefly touched the back of the body when no one was looking. A bit of blood caught on his fingers. He shoved down his deepest feelings at the sight of it.
“He took pretty much all of it. Except her uterus and bladder,” Beverly said, “I get why, those probably don’t taste that good.”
“I knew it was him,” Jack said. He was angry. This was the first of the three killings. It was only a matter of time before the next body showed. However Jack was more on edge because the killer had never done anything like this. It was precise. He looked at his profiler and cleared his throat. Hannibal froze for a moment as he was put on the spot. He had only been with this crew for a few months. “Well?”
“I think he’s trying to reach someone. He is as lonely as this widow. He feels… empty.”
“Wait, you’re saying he’s looking for a lover? What?” Jack’s anger went away for a moment. He sounded in utter disbelief.
“He had never cared to pick his victims before. He chose her, and chose to put those clothes on her. Usually he just leaves them naked… like they’re animals. Not her.”
“Do you think maybe he’s her ex-husband?” Price chimed in.
Hannibal shook his head, “no. Her husband died about five months ago. I already looked into her when we got her ID. He died from a car wreck. His body was decently intact.”
“Doesn’t mean he isn’t some sort of ex who was mad at her,” Price replied. He crossed his arms.
Hannibal didn’t reply. He looked back at the flowers. He took off his mask and gloves, dumping them into the trash. Then just walked out, as he often did. He heard his colleagues talk. He heard his name too, but ignored it. He felt off today. He couldn’t even begin to describe why. Maybe he needs to eat. He made his way to the cafeteria area. He doesn’t usually like eating out like this. He only likes eating when he’s home. The man is very particular about what he puts into his mouth. He almost made it there when he got a whiff of a familiar smell of perfume.
“Dr. Lecter.”
Alana. Hannibal turned slowly. His face was neutral. She was standing by the men's bathroom, was she waiting for someone? Hannibal gave a small, thin smile. He had taught her once before. Had a short fling, but dropped it quickly. Hannibal had just wanted to try something out. He thinks Alana wanted to as well. It was never romantic. Since then he has tried to avoid her. She is a nice person, but he wanted to leave as much as his past life behind. He doesn’t like thinking of his surgeon days.
“How has the FBI been treating you? Still surprised you came to it,” She asked, smiling.
“I wanted to try something new. I’m a profiler at the moment, and it's going well.”
“You always were good at reading things. Too good.”
Hannibal hummed. He looked at the bathroom, “who are you waiting for?”
“A friend. He’s a psychiatrist . Recently got an office in Baltimore. Pretty damn good at his job too,” she said. Her smile grew a little wider while talking about him. Hannibal’s eyes narrowed barely. Probably not even noticeable to her.
Then a man came out, and he floored Hannibal. He was beautiful. He captured Hannibal’s eyes in a way no one else ever had. Hannibal felt this connection. He had these beautiful curls, and a clean shaven face. The opposite of how Hannibal looked. He had recently been growing his beard back out. He looked to be about in his early thirties. Hannibal saw something else as they made eye contact. A darkness. One similar to Hannibal.
“Hello,” the man spoke. Even his voice was beautiful. He had a curious look on his face. Hannibal knew he was studying him. He held out his hand, and Hannibal took it. It was rougher than he thought it would. The man didn’t smile at all. He even studied Hannibal’s hands, “Will Graham."
“Hannibal Lecter.”
“Alana has mentioned you before. Surgeon to the FBI, that’s interesting,” he smiled slightly. It was not in a mocking tone. More curious than anything. They both knew they were checking each other out. Hannibal couldn’t pinpoint why he felt so charmed by this mysterious man.
“I consider myself an interesting man.”
That got a chuckle out of the younger man. Hannibal couldn’t help but smile. It was a slight smile. Alana noticed the glances between the two. She cleared her throat, gaining their attention. “We have to get going, Will.”
“Right,” he replied. He looked in her direction, but didn’t make any eye contact. They all said their goodbyes. Hannibal didn’t want their conversation to end. He wanted to reach out and grab his arm. They had barely talked, and yet he didn’t want to let the psychiatrist go. He watched the pair leave. Will Graham. He’s going to pay the Doctor a visit.