Screaming of the Sheep
Hannibal Lector sat on the plane thinking about everything. He remembered Clarice’s response. The words rang in his ears. "Not in a thousand years…Not in a thousands years…" The words stung him. All of the pain of having his arm amputated was nothing compared to that bitter reply.
Why couldn’t Clarice understand? Hannibal had done so much for her. He had helped her capture Jame Gumb. He was generous with clues, to help her find him, when she had been disgraced. He gave her what she wanted the most: advancement. What did she take it all for?
Maybe special agent Starling thought that the psychiatrist was simply stupid and that he wanted to go back to prison? He cherished his freedom. After all, he cut off his own hand to save it.
He could have amputated Clarice’s hand, but he didn’t. He couldn’t harm her. He even nursed her back to health after she had been shot in the barn. He loved her. Hannibal wanted to prove that to Clarice, but no…she couldn’t love him…not in a thousand years anyway.
Anger flowed through Dr. Lector’s veins. Hot tears poured from his eyes. Hannibal wiped them away with his good hand. His hand, where it had been throbbed with pain. The brilliant psychiatrist let emotions overflow with him, and he cried himself to sleep.
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Special Agent Clarice Starling came home and collapsed on her bed, exhausted. Confusion was the only emotion within her. She brought her hand to her face, but saw that it was covered in Hannibal Lector’s blood. Starling went to sink and washed it off. No matter how hard she scrubbed, he was still there…his presence was…the warmth of his touch…his lip gently pressed against hers. They were so loving, so caring, so passionate…but he was a monster…a cannibal. How could her…did he love her?
Clarice turned on the water to take a bath. Her shoulder throbbed with pain as she undressed. She looked at it in the mirror. The so-called monster had stitched her up and mended her wound. Why would a criminal do that? Clarice remembered what he said That to be reminded of her incorruptibility, she didn’t need a trophy or award. She just needed a mirror. She looked away from her reflection. There were too many conflicts within her for her to feel proud.
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Dr. Lector’s flight arrived twenty minutes late at the Paris airport. He had hoped that he could convince Clarice to come here, to the city of lovers, with him, but he had failed, miserably. He arrived at the hotel, and checked in.
"Dr. Powel, it says here that there will be two occupants. Is that correct?", the check-in agent asked.
"No, its just me."
"In the honeymoon suite, sir?"
"Yes."
"Would you prefer to have a different room? A single’s suite, perhaps."
"No," Dr. Lector replied, losing his patience.
"Very well," he replied, "the bellboy will show you to your room."
The room was well decorated, and spacious. He tipped the bell boy. Hannibal lay down on the bed. He turned onto his side, and imagined Clarice lying next to him…but she wasn’t really there.
Hannibal went onto the balcony to get some fresh air. Everywhere he looked, there couples. They were either sitting on the bench on the street, eating and laughing in the café across the street, or walking with arms around each other. He couldn’t take it anymore.
Dr. Lector called a taxi cab, and went to the artist colony of Montmartre. Couples sat smiling, while a painter drew their portrait. Hannibal went to café L’amour, and ordered a Bordeaux. As he sipped the red wine, he took the napkin and began drawing a portrait of Clarice and himself together. The FBI agent looked so real that she almost came to life in front of him. Hannibal remembered all the contours of her face, and the way her hair fell into her eyes.
Clarice was a siren, and Hannibal the sailor. He had been lured by her voice and beauty, and now was crashing onto the rocks. He lit a cigarette, and then took the napkin, and set it on fire.
Hannibal’s face burned brightly, the way that his heart burned with desire for her. He held the burning heart in his palm, but Clarice didn’t eat it. She didn’t egg for him. Hannibal’s face disappeared as the flames engulfed him. Clarice burned, but her bright, intelligent eyes never did. They stared at Hannibal, haunting him. He ripped the paper to shreds.
************************************************************************
After taking several sleeping pills, Clarice drifted off into a dreamy state of consciousness.
Young Clarice opened the door to social services car, and exited. She looked around the ranch. There were horses in corrals, and sheep in others.
"Hello, Clarice. I’m your uncle." A middle aged man greeted her.
"Hi."
A young man ran over, "You’d better come quick. She’s having problems."
"The twins?"
The blonde youth nodded and ran to the barn. The uncle turned to Clarice,
"Sweetie, there’s a slight problem with one of the sheep. She’s giving birth to twins right now. Why don’t you run into the house? I’ll be there as soon as I can."
"I’ll go with you," the defiant orphan responded.
"All right."
As they approached the barn, Clarice could hear the screaming of the sheep. She slowed her pace, and peered in. The sheep lay, screaming and yelping in pain. Clarice could almost feel the pain through the horrible sounds the animal made.
Her uncle knelt over the sheep, "Call the vet, Charlie." The blonde ran towards the house. He looked up at pale, teary-eyed Clarice, "Are you sure you want to stay here?" Clarice nodded shakily. "All right, but I need you to help out, ok?" Another nod. "Would you please carefully, try to calm down the mother, ok? We can’t have her flaying all over the place. Just don’t get hurt."
Clarice walked over to the to-be-mother, and soothed her. She petted the hurting creature.
Charlie ran in, "He’ll be here in about an hour."
"Shit." He looked at his new adopted daughter, "Sorry."
"We’ll have to help her ourselves." The blonde stated the obvious, "I’ll hold her down."
The uncle tried to grab the lamb inside of the sheep, "Damn it, it’s turned the wrong way!" He wanted to turn it around, but couldn’t. He started pulling the lamb out but its hind legs. He stuck his hands in deeper to support the head. The tiny creature came out, and didn’t move. "It’s a still born."
The wet, slimy animal lay motionless on the straw. A single tear ran down Clarice’s cheek. The mother wanted to lick her newborn clean, but Charlie held her down, "Come on, girl. Let’s try and save the other one." Clarice continued to soothe the sheep.
The uncle stuck his hands in again, and began pulling out the still born’s twin. Luckily, it was turned the right way, head first. He pulled the creature out gently. The animal was tiny and weak, but alive. It lay on the straw, breathing heavily. The mother wanted to get up, but couldn’t. The loss of blood was too much.
"She probably won’t make it." Charlie said. "Neither will the newborn."
The uncle removed the gun from his holster, and put it to the mother’s heart. Clarice screamed, "No!!!".
"I’m sorry, but we have to get her out of her pain."
Tears were now rolling down Clarice’s cheeks. She shook her head to her uncle’s response. The sheep somehow knew that these would be her last breaths. She screamed a horrible scream, but abruptly stopped the shrill sound when a bullet blew out her brains.
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"What do you want, monsieur?" a young lady yelled. She sounded like Catherine Martin screaming at Jame Gumb.
"What you have." Hannibal faced the husband.
"I’ll give you anything that you want. What I have that you want, you have. Just let us go. Is it money? My wallet is in my back pocket. The keys to my car are in there. I parked it in the hotel parking. You can have it. My bank account numbers are on the back of a paper in the glove compartment. Just please, let us go."
The doctor smiled. "Money and goods, I have. Do you think that I would take that from you? Do you even know who I am?" He took the silence as a negative response. "I am Doctor Hannibal Lector." The newlyweds faces turned pale with terror. Their ghostly appearances amused him. He showed his small white teeth as he smiled.
Lector took out a knife, and looked at it. The smiled never faded from his face. He laughed as his looked at his amputated hand. It was the same knife. He used it to escape. He separated himself from the woman of his dreams with this very cutting utensil.
Hannibal took the knife in his good hand, and raised it above his head. "Who’s first?" he asked, "Women first." The blade sank into the woman’s chest. Blood spurted all over his face. He wiped it away, the same way Clarice wiped away the sheep’s blood. Lector ripped open the girl’s rib cage. Her heart was still beating, when he tore it out of her body. He bit into the red organ, and didn’t even bother to chew the meat.
The husband watched in horror as he wife was massacred before his eyes. "Oh God," he murmured.
"I’m very sorry. I should have offered you some," Hannibal put the woman’s heart in front of the man’s mouth. "Bon appetite." When the man didn’t bite into the bloody mess, it forced it into his mouth. He spit it out.
"How rude!" Hannibal exclaimed. He took the red stained knife and slowly cut around the breast bone, or sternum. "You will see it stop beating." The psychiatrist smiled, and revealed his no-longer white teeth. He opened up the man’s rib cage to show him the pumping muscle. The man shut his eyes, but Hannibal forced him to watch until the muscle stopped pumping vital fluids throughout his body.
************************************************************************ "It looks like he’s in action. You can’t go on vacation." Jack Crawford walked up to Clarice, "but you will get to go to Paris,".
"What are you talking about?" Clarice asked wearily. She rubbed her eyes, yawned, and looked at her superior.
"Lector was at the Montmartre, and saw a young couple of newlyweds. He captured them, took them to the outskirts, ripped out their hearts, and had a hearty meal." Crawford answered, "I know that you need a vacation, but no body knows how to capture Lector better than you,".
"I can’t, Crawford." Starling answered, "They suspended me."
"I already took care of that," he sighed, "but you have to get him this time. It already looks like you let him escape last time. You can prove yourself, Starling."
"You know I didn’t let him."
"I have faith in you, Starling. You can get him. The trail is hot." Crawford almost pleaded, "I promise you a great vacation afterwards,".
Special Agent Clarice Starling acquiesced reluctantly.
************************************************************************
Clarice was back on the case, according the FBI website. Hannibal looked up where she would be staying in Paris: the Mariott in room 1526. She would be arriving on Flight 3690 at 6:15 P.M.
Hannibal hailed a cab, and arrived at the hotel. The maid was cleaning out the room from the former occupant. He hid inside the closet, when she replaced the mop water. He waited for FBI agent Clarice Starling to arrive.
************************************************************************
Clarice was exhausted, because of her lack of sleep, so she fell asleep on the flight to Paris.
Charlie, Clarice and her aunt and uncle sat at the dinner table. They held hands and said grace.
"God, we thank you for this hearty meal. Thank you for everything else in our lives: our belongings, our home, and the health our everyone in our family. Please bless our newest addition, Clarice." The aunt said, and everyone except Clarice responded, "Amen."
"God, please watch over the newborn lamb that didn’t make it, and his poor mother. And please let the other one live." Clarice added.
"It probably won’t live," Charlie told her, "It would take a lot of work to help it survive, and it chances aren’t great. We will probably sell it."
"No, you can’t do that. I’ll take care of him," Clarice defiantly responded.
"Sweetie, you are too young. Anyway, you don’t know what in the world you would be doing." Her uncle replied coldly.
"Honey, why don’t you let her take care of him. It won’t hurt to try. I’ll show her what to do," her aunt answered.
"You want me to leave her in the barn all night? It is freezing cold at night. She doesn’t know what to do. She’ll probably do something wrong and kill it,"
"I’ll be there tonight."
"Fine, Dora. But only if you stay with her."
That night Aunt Dora and Clarice took care of the lamb. They feed him, soothed him, and helped him try to get up. Unfortunately, he was too weak to stand up.
"He needs a name." Clarice claimed, "What about ‘Courage’?".
"That’s a great name." Dora responded.
Courage, with Clarice and Dora’s help, continued to grow stronger. He wasn’t as big as the other lambs. He became a lamb that was more like a pet than a farm animal. He followed Clarice everywhere, like a dog.
One morning, Clarice woke to same screaming that she heard the night that Courage’s mother gave birth to him. She thought it was just a horrible memory, but it wasn’t. She got dressed, and went outside to see what it was. She headed towards the barn. Fearfully, she peered inside, and saw Charlie and her uncle Robert slaughtering the other lambs. She quietly opened the pen and tried to free them. Only Courage came up to her. She left the gate open, picked him up, and started to run.
Clarice ran as fast as she could, but Courage was heavy, even though he wasn’t as big as the other lambs. She collapsed, and lay under a tree, breathing heavily.
Lights came from the woods, and Clarice was blinded for a moment. She tried to run, but the sheriff caught her. He took her, and Courage back to the ranch.
"Sweetie, are you all right?" Aunt Dora ran up, and hugged Clarice. "Thank you for bringing her home, officer."
"No problem, Ma’am,"
After the vehicle left, Uncle Robert started yelling at Clarice, "What in the world were you thinking? You let all the lambs loose. We still have to find some of them. You run into the woods with an animal in the night."
Tears rolled down Clarice’s cheeks, "You were killing them. You were going to kill Courage."
"That’s what we do here. We raise sheep and slaughter them for food," he yelled,
"Let me show you, all right?" He grabbed her by the wrist, and took her to the barn. Courage followed Clarice. Robert took Courage, and the knife and killed him in front of Clarice. Blood spurted onto Clarice, the same way that it did when Courage’s mother was killed. Tears poured from her eyes, "NOOOOO!!!!".
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Hannibal sat in the room, pacing as he waited for Clarice to arrive. He wasn’t sure of the way he should act. Should he be angry? Understanding? Loving? Confused was the way he felt. He walked from the bed to the closet to the door to the bed…he was going insane with impatience. Former "Doctor" Chilton, with no credentials believed he was insane already. He heard a key turn in the door knob, and he stopped in mid step.
Clarice slowly walked in, and paused when she saw his shadow. He stood in the middle of the room the same way he stood in his cell when they first met.
"Hello, Clarice," Hannibal greeted, "I see that you are surprised to see me,"
"Doctor Lector," she whispered, while she closed the door behind her.
Hannibal walked up to Clarice and gently brushed aside her hair, the way he did when he was in her home.
"Why?" she asked.
He put his finger on her mouth. He wanted to kiss her lips. "Quid pro quo. You tell me first, Clarice. Why did you clean up after me? The FBI doesn’t know about my hand." He lifted his hand for her to see.
Guilt flooded over her, "I’m sorry, Dr. Lector." She took his hand, held it and kissed it. Hannibal closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. She smelled so pleasant that he want to get closer to her.
Clarice led him to the bed and lay down. He sat down next to her. "Now you answer my question, Doctor."
"Because…" Hannibal stopped and looked away, "I…I love you…" He turned to look into her bright eyes, burning with desire.
"I know…"
"That’s why I helped you catch Jame Gumb. I followed you career. When you were in trouble, I risked my freedom by sending you the letter to help you catch me. I saved your life. I stitched your shoulder. I even…" Hannibal looked down at his hand, or what was left of it, "but…"
Clarice put her hands on his face and held it to look into his watery eyes. She moved her lips closer to his, until they touched. The feeling filled both of the lovers up with desire for more, but Clarice remarked, "I don’t know what to do, Doctor Lector."
Hannibal smiled, amused, "Dearest, you can call me Hannibal."
Her smiled faded as she continued, "I have devoted my entire life to the FBI. I even left my husband and child to focus on my career. I love my job, but I love you too."
Hannibal took his good hand and started unbuttoning her blouse. She helped him. He slipped his complete hand under her bra and kissed her parted lips. His tongue explored her mouth, and enjoyed her taste. Clarice started to undress him. She ran her hands through his chest hair and whimpered. Their lips parted for some air.
"I wouldn’t stop this in a thousand years, Hannibal."
"That’s my girl."
Hannibal’s lips kissed her body all over. He parted her legs, and began pleasuring her. She was breathing hard. The doctor looked up at her, smiled, and said, "Best meal I ever had…" They both laughed.
Hannibal slowly entered her. But when Clarice winced slightly, and he eased out. "I haven’t make love ever since I left my husband 8 years ago,".
He nodded, "I haven’t since a few months before my capture by Will Graham."
Hannibal caressed her breasts, and kissed them. He slowly pushed himself in further, and out again. He wanted to go faster, but waited until she adjusted to his presence. He started to suck her left tit, and could help but think of what he said to Senator Martin about how breast feeding hardens the nipples.
Clarice moved her hips towards his body, when she got accustomed to his presence. He started thrusting in and out and in and out…faster and faster…deeper and deeper…until her orgasm brought on his.
They lay on the bed, breathing heavily in each other’s arms. "Hannibal, I want to go away with you. Wherever you go…whatever you do…I want to be with you," Clarice paused to catch her breath, "But I would like you to stop eating people."
Hannibal kissed her, "Of course. But…can I still eat you?" They laughed again.
"You know something. I never told you if the lambs stopped screaming." Clarice mentioned.
"Have they?"
"They stopped for a while, but every time I started a new case they screamed again. When I solved the case, I slept in silence."
Clarice and Hannibal fell asleep in each other’s arms. His arms around her made her feel safe from harm. The lambs felt safe too. Clarice finally sleep in the silence of the lambs. Since then, every night she slept without the shrill screaming of the sheep.
Hannibal Lector sat on the plane thinking about everything. He remembered Clarice’s response. The words rang in his ears. "Not in a thousand years…Not in a thousands years…" The words stung him. All of the pain of having his arm amputated was nothing compared to that bitter reply.
Why couldn’t Clarice understand? Hannibal had done so much for her. He had helped her capture Jame Gumb. He was generous with clues, to help her find him, when she had been disgraced. He gave her what she wanted the most: advancement. What did she take it all for?
Maybe special agent Starling thought that the psychiatrist was simply stupid and that he wanted to go back to prison? He cherished his freedom. After all, he cut off his own hand to save it.
He could have amputated Clarice’s hand, but he didn’t. He couldn’t harm her. He even nursed her back to health after she had been shot in the barn. He loved her. Hannibal wanted to prove that to Clarice, but no…she couldn’t love him…not in a thousand years anyway.
Anger flowed through Dr. Lector’s veins. Hot tears poured from his eyes. Hannibal wiped them away with his good hand. His hand, where it had been throbbed with pain. The brilliant psychiatrist let emotions overflow with him, and he cried himself to sleep.
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Special Agent Clarice Starling came home and collapsed on her bed, exhausted. Confusion was the only emotion within her. She brought her hand to her face, but saw that it was covered in Hannibal Lector’s blood. Starling went to sink and washed it off. No matter how hard she scrubbed, he was still there…his presence was…the warmth of his touch…his lip gently pressed against hers. They were so loving, so caring, so passionate…but he was a monster…a cannibal. How could her…did he love her?
Clarice turned on the water to take a bath. Her shoulder throbbed with pain as she undressed. She looked at it in the mirror. The so-called monster had stitched her up and mended her wound. Why would a criminal do that? Clarice remembered what he said That to be reminded of her incorruptibility, she didn’t need a trophy or award. She just needed a mirror. She looked away from her reflection. There were too many conflicts within her for her to feel proud.
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Dr. Lector’s flight arrived twenty minutes late at the Paris airport. He had hoped that he could convince Clarice to come here, to the city of lovers, with him, but he had failed, miserably. He arrived at the hotel, and checked in.
"Dr. Powel, it says here that there will be two occupants. Is that correct?", the check-in agent asked.
"No, its just me."
"In the honeymoon suite, sir?"
"Yes."
"Would you prefer to have a different room? A single’s suite, perhaps."
"No," Dr. Lector replied, losing his patience.
"Very well," he replied, "the bellboy will show you to your room."
The room was well decorated, and spacious. He tipped the bell boy. Hannibal lay down on the bed. He turned onto his side, and imagined Clarice lying next to him…but she wasn’t really there.
Hannibal went onto the balcony to get some fresh air. Everywhere he looked, there couples. They were either sitting on the bench on the street, eating and laughing in the café across the street, or walking with arms around each other. He couldn’t take it anymore.
Dr. Lector called a taxi cab, and went to the artist colony of Montmartre. Couples sat smiling, while a painter drew their portrait. Hannibal went to café L’amour, and ordered a Bordeaux. As he sipped the red wine, he took the napkin and began drawing a portrait of Clarice and himself together. The FBI agent looked so real that she almost came to life in front of him. Hannibal remembered all the contours of her face, and the way her hair fell into her eyes.
Clarice was a siren, and Hannibal the sailor. He had been lured by her voice and beauty, and now was crashing onto the rocks. He lit a cigarette, and then took the napkin, and set it on fire.
Hannibal’s face burned brightly, the way that his heart burned with desire for her. He held the burning heart in his palm, but Clarice didn’t eat it. She didn’t egg for him. Hannibal’s face disappeared as the flames engulfed him. Clarice burned, but her bright, intelligent eyes never did. They stared at Hannibal, haunting him. He ripped the paper to shreds.
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After taking several sleeping pills, Clarice drifted off into a dreamy state of consciousness.
Young Clarice opened the door to social services car, and exited. She looked around the ranch. There were horses in corrals, and sheep in others.
"Hello, Clarice. I’m your uncle." A middle aged man greeted her.
"Hi."
A young man ran over, "You’d better come quick. She’s having problems."
"The twins?"
The blonde youth nodded and ran to the barn. The uncle turned to Clarice,
"Sweetie, there’s a slight problem with one of the sheep. She’s giving birth to twins right now. Why don’t you run into the house? I’ll be there as soon as I can."
"I’ll go with you," the defiant orphan responded.
"All right."
As they approached the barn, Clarice could hear the screaming of the sheep. She slowed her pace, and peered in. The sheep lay, screaming and yelping in pain. Clarice could almost feel the pain through the horrible sounds the animal made.
Her uncle knelt over the sheep, "Call the vet, Charlie." The blonde ran towards the house. He looked up at pale, teary-eyed Clarice, "Are you sure you want to stay here?" Clarice nodded shakily. "All right, but I need you to help out, ok?" Another nod. "Would you please carefully, try to calm down the mother, ok? We can’t have her flaying all over the place. Just don’t get hurt."
Clarice walked over to the to-be-mother, and soothed her. She petted the hurting creature.
Charlie ran in, "He’ll be here in about an hour."
"Shit." He looked at his new adopted daughter, "Sorry."
"We’ll have to help her ourselves." The blonde stated the obvious, "I’ll hold her down."
The uncle tried to grab the lamb inside of the sheep, "Damn it, it’s turned the wrong way!" He wanted to turn it around, but couldn’t. He started pulling the lamb out but its hind legs. He stuck his hands in deeper to support the head. The tiny creature came out, and didn’t move. "It’s a still born."
The wet, slimy animal lay motionless on the straw. A single tear ran down Clarice’s cheek. The mother wanted to lick her newborn clean, but Charlie held her down, "Come on, girl. Let’s try and save the other one." Clarice continued to soothe the sheep.
The uncle stuck his hands in again, and began pulling out the still born’s twin. Luckily, it was turned the right way, head first. He pulled the creature out gently. The animal was tiny and weak, but alive. It lay on the straw, breathing heavily. The mother wanted to get up, but couldn’t. The loss of blood was too much.
"She probably won’t make it." Charlie said. "Neither will the newborn."
The uncle removed the gun from his holster, and put it to the mother’s heart. Clarice screamed, "No!!!".
"I’m sorry, but we have to get her out of her pain."
Tears were now rolling down Clarice’s cheeks. She shook her head to her uncle’s response. The sheep somehow knew that these would be her last breaths. She screamed a horrible scream, but abruptly stopped the shrill sound when a bullet blew out her brains.
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"What do you want, monsieur?" a young lady yelled. She sounded like Catherine Martin screaming at Jame Gumb.
"What you have." Hannibal faced the husband.
"I’ll give you anything that you want. What I have that you want, you have. Just let us go. Is it money? My wallet is in my back pocket. The keys to my car are in there. I parked it in the hotel parking. You can have it. My bank account numbers are on the back of a paper in the glove compartment. Just please, let us go."
The doctor smiled. "Money and goods, I have. Do you think that I would take that from you? Do you even know who I am?" He took the silence as a negative response. "I am Doctor Hannibal Lector." The newlyweds faces turned pale with terror. Their ghostly appearances amused him. He showed his small white teeth as he smiled.
Lector took out a knife, and looked at it. The smiled never faded from his face. He laughed as his looked at his amputated hand. It was the same knife. He used it to escape. He separated himself from the woman of his dreams with this very cutting utensil.
Hannibal took the knife in his good hand, and raised it above his head. "Who’s first?" he asked, "Women first." The blade sank into the woman’s chest. Blood spurted all over his face. He wiped it away, the same way Clarice wiped away the sheep’s blood. Lector ripped open the girl’s rib cage. Her heart was still beating, when he tore it out of her body. He bit into the red organ, and didn’t even bother to chew the meat.
The husband watched in horror as he wife was massacred before his eyes. "Oh God," he murmured.
"I’m very sorry. I should have offered you some," Hannibal put the woman’s heart in front of the man’s mouth. "Bon appetite." When the man didn’t bite into the bloody mess, it forced it into his mouth. He spit it out.
"How rude!" Hannibal exclaimed. He took the red stained knife and slowly cut around the breast bone, or sternum. "You will see it stop beating." The psychiatrist smiled, and revealed his no-longer white teeth. He opened up the man’s rib cage to show him the pumping muscle. The man shut his eyes, but Hannibal forced him to watch until the muscle stopped pumping vital fluids throughout his body.
************************************************************************ "It looks like he’s in action. You can’t go on vacation." Jack Crawford walked up to Clarice, "but you will get to go to Paris,".
"What are you talking about?" Clarice asked wearily. She rubbed her eyes, yawned, and looked at her superior.
"Lector was at the Montmartre, and saw a young couple of newlyweds. He captured them, took them to the outskirts, ripped out their hearts, and had a hearty meal." Crawford answered, "I know that you need a vacation, but no body knows how to capture Lector better than you,".
"I can’t, Crawford." Starling answered, "They suspended me."
"I already took care of that," he sighed, "but you have to get him this time. It already looks like you let him escape last time. You can prove yourself, Starling."
"You know I didn’t let him."
"I have faith in you, Starling. You can get him. The trail is hot." Crawford almost pleaded, "I promise you a great vacation afterwards,".
Special Agent Clarice Starling acquiesced reluctantly.
************************************************************************
Clarice was back on the case, according the FBI website. Hannibal looked up where she would be staying in Paris: the Mariott in room 1526. She would be arriving on Flight 3690 at 6:15 P.M.
Hannibal hailed a cab, and arrived at the hotel. The maid was cleaning out the room from the former occupant. He hid inside the closet, when she replaced the mop water. He waited for FBI agent Clarice Starling to arrive.
************************************************************************
Clarice was exhausted, because of her lack of sleep, so she fell asleep on the flight to Paris.
Charlie, Clarice and her aunt and uncle sat at the dinner table. They held hands and said grace.
"God, we thank you for this hearty meal. Thank you for everything else in our lives: our belongings, our home, and the health our everyone in our family. Please bless our newest addition, Clarice." The aunt said, and everyone except Clarice responded, "Amen."
"God, please watch over the newborn lamb that didn’t make it, and his poor mother. And please let the other one live." Clarice added.
"It probably won’t live," Charlie told her, "It would take a lot of work to help it survive, and it chances aren’t great. We will probably sell it."
"No, you can’t do that. I’ll take care of him," Clarice defiantly responded.
"Sweetie, you are too young. Anyway, you don’t know what in the world you would be doing." Her uncle replied coldly.
"Honey, why don’t you let her take care of him. It won’t hurt to try. I’ll show her what to do," her aunt answered.
"You want me to leave her in the barn all night? It is freezing cold at night. She doesn’t know what to do. She’ll probably do something wrong and kill it,"
"I’ll be there tonight."
"Fine, Dora. But only if you stay with her."
That night Aunt Dora and Clarice took care of the lamb. They feed him, soothed him, and helped him try to get up. Unfortunately, he was too weak to stand up.
"He needs a name." Clarice claimed, "What about ‘Courage’?".
"That’s a great name." Dora responded.
Courage, with Clarice and Dora’s help, continued to grow stronger. He wasn’t as big as the other lambs. He became a lamb that was more like a pet than a farm animal. He followed Clarice everywhere, like a dog.
One morning, Clarice woke to same screaming that she heard the night that Courage’s mother gave birth to him. She thought it was just a horrible memory, but it wasn’t. She got dressed, and went outside to see what it was. She headed towards the barn. Fearfully, she peered inside, and saw Charlie and her uncle Robert slaughtering the other lambs. She quietly opened the pen and tried to free them. Only Courage came up to her. She left the gate open, picked him up, and started to run.
Clarice ran as fast as she could, but Courage was heavy, even though he wasn’t as big as the other lambs. She collapsed, and lay under a tree, breathing heavily.
Lights came from the woods, and Clarice was blinded for a moment. She tried to run, but the sheriff caught her. He took her, and Courage back to the ranch.
"Sweetie, are you all right?" Aunt Dora ran up, and hugged Clarice. "Thank you for bringing her home, officer."
"No problem, Ma’am,"
After the vehicle left, Uncle Robert started yelling at Clarice, "What in the world were you thinking? You let all the lambs loose. We still have to find some of them. You run into the woods with an animal in the night."
Tears rolled down Clarice’s cheeks, "You were killing them. You were going to kill Courage."
"That’s what we do here. We raise sheep and slaughter them for food," he yelled,
"Let me show you, all right?" He grabbed her by the wrist, and took her to the barn. Courage followed Clarice. Robert took Courage, and the knife and killed him in front of Clarice. Blood spurted onto Clarice, the same way that it did when Courage’s mother was killed. Tears poured from her eyes, "NOOOOO!!!!".
************************************************************************
Hannibal sat in the room, pacing as he waited for Clarice to arrive. He wasn’t sure of the way he should act. Should he be angry? Understanding? Loving? Confused was the way he felt. He walked from the bed to the closet to the door to the bed…he was going insane with impatience. Former "Doctor" Chilton, with no credentials believed he was insane already. He heard a key turn in the door knob, and he stopped in mid step.
Clarice slowly walked in, and paused when she saw his shadow. He stood in the middle of the room the same way he stood in his cell when they first met.
"Hello, Clarice," Hannibal greeted, "I see that you are surprised to see me,"
"Doctor Lector," she whispered, while she closed the door behind her.
Hannibal walked up to Clarice and gently brushed aside her hair, the way he did when he was in her home.
"Why?" she asked.
He put his finger on her mouth. He wanted to kiss her lips. "Quid pro quo. You tell me first, Clarice. Why did you clean up after me? The FBI doesn’t know about my hand." He lifted his hand for her to see.
Guilt flooded over her, "I’m sorry, Dr. Lector." She took his hand, held it and kissed it. Hannibal closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. She smelled so pleasant that he want to get closer to her.
Clarice led him to the bed and lay down. He sat down next to her. "Now you answer my question, Doctor."
"Because…" Hannibal stopped and looked away, "I…I love you…" He turned to look into her bright eyes, burning with desire.
"I know…"
"That’s why I helped you catch Jame Gumb. I followed you career. When you were in trouble, I risked my freedom by sending you the letter to help you catch me. I saved your life. I stitched your shoulder. I even…" Hannibal looked down at his hand, or what was left of it, "but…"
Clarice put her hands on his face and held it to look into his watery eyes. She moved her lips closer to his, until they touched. The feeling filled both of the lovers up with desire for more, but Clarice remarked, "I don’t know what to do, Doctor Lector."
Hannibal smiled, amused, "Dearest, you can call me Hannibal."
Her smiled faded as she continued, "I have devoted my entire life to the FBI. I even left my husband and child to focus on my career. I love my job, but I love you too."
Hannibal took his good hand and started unbuttoning her blouse. She helped him. He slipped his complete hand under her bra and kissed her parted lips. His tongue explored her mouth, and enjoyed her taste. Clarice started to undress him. She ran her hands through his chest hair and whimpered. Their lips parted for some air.
"I wouldn’t stop this in a thousand years, Hannibal."
"That’s my girl."
Hannibal’s lips kissed her body all over. He parted her legs, and began pleasuring her. She was breathing hard. The doctor looked up at her, smiled, and said, "Best meal I ever had…" They both laughed.
Hannibal slowly entered her. But when Clarice winced slightly, and he eased out. "I haven’t make love ever since I left my husband 8 years ago,".
He nodded, "I haven’t since a few months before my capture by Will Graham."
Hannibal caressed her breasts, and kissed them. He slowly pushed himself in further, and out again. He wanted to go faster, but waited until she adjusted to his presence. He started to suck her left tit, and could help but think of what he said to Senator Martin about how breast feeding hardens the nipples.
Clarice moved her hips towards his body, when she got accustomed to his presence. He started thrusting in and out and in and out…faster and faster…deeper and deeper…until her orgasm brought on his.
They lay on the bed, breathing heavily in each other’s arms. "Hannibal, I want to go away with you. Wherever you go…whatever you do…I want to be with you," Clarice paused to catch her breath, "But I would like you to stop eating people."
Hannibal kissed her, "Of course. But…can I still eat you?" They laughed again.
"You know something. I never told you if the lambs stopped screaming." Clarice mentioned.
"Have they?"
"They stopped for a while, but every time I started a new case they screamed again. When I solved the case, I slept in silence."
Clarice and Hannibal fell asleep in each other’s arms. His arms around her made her feel safe from harm. The lambs felt safe too. Clarice finally sleep in the silence of the lambs. Since then, every night she slept without the shrill screaming of the sheep.
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