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Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Prompt: #81, Horror
Author's Note: Sequel to "Looking For Secrets."
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Hannibal Lecter or Will Graham, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.
***Will's hand shook as he pulled the door of the freezer open all the way.
that first glimpse hadn't been wrong, he told himself as he stepped into the freezer, making sure that the door was open wide behind him.
How many bodies were here? He couldn't count them all. It would be impossible, Will told himself. At least, it would be for one lone person. It looked as though there were enough body parts for .... hundreds of them. Well, maybe not that many, but at least dozens.
He wondered how many people Hannibal had killed, how many deaths the person he'd trusted and had been stupid enough to call his friend was responsible for.
it was obvious that he hadn't confined himself to only the Chesapeake Ripper murders.
So many bodies, Will told himself as he moved further into the freezer. Hanging from the ceiling, displayed on tables. But hardly any of them were intact.
There were mostly parts of bodies. Arms, legs, a torso. A head here and there. He closed his eyes, starting to feel a little faint. He saw death around him nearly every day when he was working in the field, but not like this. Never like this.
This wasn't just death. This was .... an absolute pleasure in death. It was horrible and obscene; it made his stomach churn.
Hannibal had prepared all these people as food, had turned them into meals. Will felt his stomach turn over, as though he might throw up at any moment. He closed his eyes, stopping in his tracks, trying to hold the feeling back. He wasn't going to be sick. Not now.
He was going to see this through; he was going to look at all of the death and destruction that Hannibal had wrought before he called Jack and the FBI in here.
This was it. This was what would put Hannibal behind bars for life.
There was no way that clever monster would be able to talk his way out of this. He was done, finished. He couldn't explain away all of these bodies -- all of these body parts -- with a wave of his hand and a few well-chosen words.
No, he was well and truly caught this time.
There was no rationalizing what he had done here. There was no way he could blame this on something else -- not when it had been discovered in a room in his own house.
Will moved further into the freezer, steadying himself as he looked around. He couldn't think of these dead bodies as people; he had to look at them impersonally, not let any of his own emotions creep in .He had to see this as work, and not as a personal outrage.
There seemed to be tables in the back -- and there were many more body parts splayed out on top of them, as well as one that seemed nearly intact.
Will couldn't stop himself; he had to move nearer, had to see the body on that table. His feet carried him to the table, his eyes widening in horror as he approached.
Long, dark hair that he recognized, though the face was nearly gone, carved away until only the skull and small, clinging bits of flesh remained. That was Bloom's hair. He would know it anywhere. This was her body, carved up into pieces.
He had known when she disappeared so suddenly that she hadn't gone to California to visit a friend. She'd been murdered by the man she was sleeping with.
He'd known all along. He just hadn't been able to say anything at the time.
Here was proof. Conclusive proof. He had no doubt that when they did DNA testing, this body would prove to be hers. They would finally know what had happened to her, after three weeks of searching. She could be put to rest, have a decent burial.
He had warned her, and she hadn't listened to him.
Will recoiled in horror from what he was seeing, his mind not quite able to process that this had been one of his friends, a person he had known and worked with.
Turning, he groped his way back to the front of the freezer, closing his eyes as he leaned against the open door, taking deep breaths. He wasn't going to be sick. What he had seen was horrific, but he wasn't going to lose it. He was more professional than that.
The horror at seeing someone he had once known reduced to nothing more than a faceless body on a slab was what got to him more than anything else.
Will raised his head, squaring his shoulders. The horror of what he had just seen wasn't going to affect him, any more than the horror of some of the more gruesome crime scenes he'd been at did. He was going to keep his professional demeanor, no matter what.
This would be the final proof. This was what would cement Hannibal's standing as a psychopath, and keep him behind bars for the rest of his days.
He'd found the proof that he was looking for. Irrefutable, incontrovertible proof.
Hannibal had murdered someone who worked with the FBI. Though he'd probably done the same in the past, this time, he'd finally been caught.
He couldn't escape the net that closed in on him now. And Will would be the one to expose him, to show the world how Hannibal had murdered Bloom, and prove to everyone exactly what he was. That would be sweet justice indeed.
Will didn't look back as he stumbled out of the freezer; there was no need for him to. He knew that what he had just seen would stay with him for a lifetime.
He'd seen some horrific crimes, but this was one of the worst.
Closing the freezer door behind him, he sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, taking his phone out of his pocket. It was only then that he realized how badly his hands were shaking; he hoped that his voice wouldn't do the same when he spoke to Jack.
He dialed, heard the other man pick up, and took a deep breath before he began to speak.
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