*casually drops a frightened, bound and blindfolded Hugh Dancy in your dash*
*walks away whistling*
and then they bring out the cult leader: Hannibal Lecter.
Please write this.
I will give away my left arms and legs if you do.
@emungere I’m looking at you
At least three sets of hands shoved Will forward. He fell on his knees in the dirt. The rope around his wrists dug into his skin. He could get it no looser, no matter how he twisted. Voices rose up around him in the hot night, muffled but excited. He smelled rotting leaves and fresh earth. Someone howled.
“That’s enough,” a new voice said.
Will knew him: Hannibal Lecter, the chief psychiatrist at the mental hospital he’d been sent to investigate after its patients developed a habit of turning up dead in the woods. The woods where, he guessed, he now knelt.
A hand touched his face. He flinched from it, but Dr. Lecter only worked his blindfold up and off. He squatted in front of Will, balanced on his heels. “You checked yourself into my care under false pretenses,” Dr. Lecter said.
Will said nothing.
Dr. Lecter held up Will’s badge, which he could only have gotten from Will’s apartment back in New Orleans. “Detective Will Graham, New Orleans Homicide. Only twenty two. You must be quite the prodigy. It will be a shame to cut your career short.”
Will looked at Lecter’s calm face and then at the circle of silent people. Some held torches. Some crouched in the shadows and some pressed as near as they could get to Lecter before he gave them a look like a whip and sent them scuttling back.
“A hunting party,” Will said.
Lecter nodded once. “In my forest, we eat or we are eaten.”
“Are you saying I have a chance?”
“There is always a chance if we are willing to take the opportunities presented to us. Don’t you find that to be true?”
“I think I’d find more opportunities with my hands untied,” Will said.
Lecter smiled. It showed his teeth. He took a knife from his pocket and cut the ropes from Will’s wrists. “Good hunting,” he said.
That was the cue for every figure in the circle to come at Will with open mouths and clawed hands. He dove through a gap, rolled, and came up running.
Near dawn, Will found the circle of bare earth again. Lecter was still there.
Will dumped his burden onto the ground at his feet. It was the body of a man dressed in armor made from bones and claws.
“I didn’t think I would see you again,” Lecter said.
Will stood, panting. He looked from his bloody knuckles to the body of the man he’d killed. “I couldn’t find my way out of the woods,” he said. After that night, he wasn’t sure he ever would.