Please Don't Eat Me (Hannibal Lecter x Reader)

Chapter 23

Everything hurt.

    My eyelids were as heavy as bricks.

    I fought to open them.

    I rubbed the crust out of my eyes. I was laying in Hannibal and I's bed.

    Hannibal.

    The memories rushed back along with the gnawing pain in my stomach. I lifted the covers to see a neat line of stitches below my bellybutton. The skin around the thread was yellow with tints of purple.

    I paused. My face dropped. I scanned the room for Hannibal. He wasn't here. Relief flooded into my being but was soaked up fast.

    Hannibal was feeding me human organs. I wanted to throw up but my stomach was empty. Was I really that blind? My own husband was a murderer and I had no clue. I sobbed but each cry was accompanied by a sharp pain from my lower stomach.

    I slammed my hand over my mouth to dampen the sound. There was commotion from the room below me. I heard a babble and a cry. It sounded like it came from a baby.

    My hand slid across my now flat stomach. Fear filled every bone in my body. Was that my child downstairs? Guilt followed. I tried to kill my baby.

    "Shh, here you go" It was Hannibal's voice then the baby suckling on a bottle. Why was he was taking care of the baby. He's supposed to be a cold blooded psychopath.    

    I tried to crawl out of the bed to listen closer. But the pain was too much. My arm gave out and I fell to the ground producing a loud thump. The noises from downstairs stopped. My eyes went wide when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I looked for places to hide but the warm blood seeping into my shirt caught my eyes. One of the stitches popped opened. I scrambled to hide under the bed as the foot steps got closer.

    A hand grabbed my leg and I screamed. I kicked and thrashed but the burning pain slowed me down. Hannibal pulled me from under the bed. My eyes met his. I don't know what I was expecting but maybe for him to look like the murderer he was. But he didn't. He looked just like the man that said he loved me.

    Hannibal pulled my shirt up. The broken stitches laid on both sides of the open gnash. I could see my organs. My breathe froze in my throat. I tried to suck in new breaths of air but I still was suffocating. I watched as Hannibal's hands pulled my wound close. I saw my blood all over his hands and shirt. He weaved a needle back and forth through my skin. I felt the thread pulling itself through each puncture. The stanza in-between his eyes deepen. He bit off the remaining thread and then carried me back to the bed. I wanted to talk. I wanted to scream but everything inside me froze up. I felt nothing for a while  but then I felt everything. I sobbed and screamed. snot flew out of my nose and spit and drool mixed with blood on the sheets. My throat felt peeled raw.

"Why! Why?!" I scream and pounded his chest. I was too weak to inflict any damage yet I stilled slammed my hands against and screamed.

    Hannibal grabbed my hands and pulled me into his chest while wrapping his arms around me. I wanted to push him away. I wanted to scream at him for lying to me. I wanted to slap him across the face and take my child and never see him again. But I didn't. I let him hold me as I cried.

    I watched the snow shake from the branches when a large gust came. It joined the other snow on the ground. The sky stood as a bleak grey. The past two days I stayed in bed. I was too weak to walk. Hannibal had to carry me too and from the bathroom. He brought me food but I didn't dare touch it. He tried to talk to me but my responses ranged from yes, no, and silence. I didn't know how to treat him after knowing what I know. A part of me hated and feared him but another still loved him. I hated myself for that.