ᴄʟᴏsᴇʀ ʜᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (Discontinued)

Chapter 2: Hobbies

[Graphic Violence in this chapter!]

The muffled sobbing filled you with a great deal of joy. Feeling this power over the man in front of you made you feel so if you'd explode from the happiness. This man was nothing to you, you didn't know who he was. The only thing that you did know was how unnecessarily cruel he had been to the cashier at the grocery store you both happened to be at. You stood in line, several people behind him and you listened as he belittled the younger man for making a simple mistake of saying that a particular coupon expired. This man's rage sparked an interest in you so much so that you decided to remove yourself from the line and follow him to the parking lot. From there, you followed him to his house.

You watched him for a little over a week before deciding that you would make your move. You wore your hair in a tight bun, wore gloves, and hid your face before sneaking through the back window and hiding in the shadows, waiting for him to come home. You learned that he lived alone and came home in the late evening. Other than that, you just saw him as a way to break your boredom. You didn't want to try hard with him. You heard the blood pulsing in your ears with excitement when he came home and you crept behind him, knocking him unconscious with the bat you brought with you.

Now it was just the two of you together in the woods outside of the city. His limbs were bound to a tree and his mouth was stuffed shut with cloth and taped over. He was bare. You did this alone and it made you feel beyond satisfied just to see tears stream down his cheeks.
"You don't even know why this is happening to you." You smirked. Your face was no longer hidden as you knew that he would never be able to identify you. Not after this. "But you should know that your death isn't meaningless."

You pulled out a knife and watched his face contort in more fear at the sight of the blade. You approached him and kneeled before him, touching his face with your gloved hand. "I've known so few men who allowed themselves to cry in front of others. I wish more would. I'm sure they're just as beautiful as you are now when you cry." This man's fear and tears were intoxicating. You savored the moments before you took a life. It was always the most alive both you and your victim were.

And then you plunged the knife into his throat, making sure to keep eye contact with him, as he looked back in shock and pain. You pulled the knife out to reinsert it, stabbing him repeatedly. The blood from his throat painted your face and you felt like you might melt under the delightful warmth. You cut into his chest next, moving the blood around his body with your hands. Each slash was gifted in return with the deep red that you admired so much. You swore that in this moment that you loved him. He gave you exactly what you needed and he freed you from the nothingness that was overpowering you. This made you cry of happiness. This man validated you.

When you looked up to meet his eyes, they were staring back at you suddenly. And with a raspy voice, he spoke your name. Only then did you open your eyes to find yourself in Hannibal Lecter's office, in one of his chairs, sitting before him. He had been the one saying your name.
"Are you alright, (Y/N)?" He asked, leaning forward in his chair, adjusting his notes in his lap. "You seemed to have disappeared from me for a moment."

You smiled politely. "Sorry." You said, shaking your head a bit as if to brush off the sleepiness that still clung to you. "I didn't realize I was asleep."
"It was more of dissociating if I was being quite honest with you." Hannibal smiled back at you.
"Oh." You simply replied. "What were we talking about again?"
"If you had any specific hobbies or anything specific that interested you."
"Oh." It was all you could say. Hannibal still smiled at you with those dark eyes.