Compassion

Assessment

Blood ran through his fingers like silk, red painting his skin in delicate patterns of violence. The knife slipped from numb fingers, the clatter of its impact reverberating in his ears. He stared at his handiwork. He should feel remorse, or sadness, but all he could muster was some sort of contentment. He'd made his choice, passed his test. Everything would be okay now.

"Well done, Will," Hannibal's gentle voice came from behind him, where he was surveying the scene with a critical eye. "It is rather messy, but we have time to work on your refinement."

Will let out a small giggle of ill humor. "My first was just ten bullets to the chest," he pointed out. "And my second was with you. I think I've improved." He looked back at the blood-soaked forms that had once been his wife and step-son. Molly had been surprised to see him, but relief had washed over her face as she rushed to embrace him. She babbled on about how Jack had told her he'd died and she was so glad he was finally home. It took her a moment, but she soon realized that he had not moved to hold her in return and had said nothing. He simply stared ahead with a blank expression.

"Will?" She asked in confusion, backing away with a concerned expression. "Are you okay?"

She never even had time to scream. Will had whipped his arm up, catching her full in the throat with his weapon. Her mouth opened and closed, eyes wide in surprise and confusion as she slowly sank to her knees. Her hands grasped at the wound as she toppled over, trying to stem the flow of blood as she choked for air. Will stared down at her, compassionless as he watched her struggle for life.

"Mom?" Walter's voice wafted from the hallway.

Molly's eyes bugged in panic and her rasping became more insistent. One hand left her throat and reached toward Will as if trying to stop him. Her weak hand grasped his pants as he looked up and stepped over her, silently moving into position beside the doorway as his step son walked in. He began to scream when he saw his mother, but Will pounced on him, stabbing the boy in the side of the neck as he wrapped his hands around his head. An audible snap pierced the air and Walter thumped to the ground, unmoving. Molly let out a choked but desperate scream, abandoning all attempts to save her own life and trying to drag herself to her son's lifeless body. Will crouched down, caressing her face and gazing coldly into her terrified eyes as she struggled. He stabbed her several times, each jab eliciting gurgle.

It didn't take her long to cease her fight.

Will had stood and looked back at Walter, but the boy was well and truly dead.

That was when Hannibal finally entered the house. He'd been watching from outside, where he'd ensured the dogs were penned in and not going to interfere.

The corner of the cannibal's mouth twitched at the younger man's statement. "I must concede the argument, as this is far more artful than your past attempts."

Will didn't bother pointing out that his past 'attempts' hadn't actually been in an effort to impress him. He merely looked back one last time at the mayhem and walked calmly out the door. Hannibal located the fallen knife and wiped the handle clean of any fingerprints his protégé might have left. He would have to teach him a thing or two about covering his tracks before they moved on to the next one.

The pair climbed into their newest vehicle, a newer model SUV they'd borrowed from the neighbors. They would be returning it to their driveway with the bloodstains Will would leave in the driver's seat. As it was night, the couple would be asleep and likely hadn't even noticed their car was missing.

"Clean the steering wheel, Will," Hannibal chided when they arrived. They had many more stops to make, and he didn't want them getting suspicious before it was unavoidable.