D E V O U R || HANNIGRAM // continuation

Chapter Three: Folie a Deux

|| Warning: Gore ahead! In this chapter, explore the sentimentality that has now been revealed. The sadness and the exposed truth on Bedelia! || Leave comments !! :D

About two hours later, there were solid guesses of to where the two men were. Jack Crawford held his motives in the palm of his hand and Alana stood firmly with him on them as Margot pulled up in her vehicle.

About ten minutes after, the two were leaving the scene.

Bedelia had made her way inside five minutes prior; supporting her weight onto the dining table near the China glass tray where her severed leg sat on a bed of crisps, roasted to serve and wrapped in ti leaves. There was a familiar scent clouding the woman's mind as weary eyes looked towards the cracked screen of a video camera laying across from her on the ground.

Her hand ran along the length of her medically bandaged stub, raising the weight of her skirt as a thumb nervously touched a gleam of metal. The fork.

"I had my suspicions that you would come back ...Hannibal. " Bedelia greeted in a tired way of sorts. No answer followed.

Hannibal had stood nearby behind her, he cautiously took a step forward to approach the table. "I am surprised that for someone like yourself had taken a leap of sacrifice. Tell me, what really convinced you to stay around. Did you choose to for the fear of consequence? "

She hobbled sidelong, the secrecy of her plan guarded by the shadows beneath the table.

Leaning slightly over the surface, Hannibal inhaled the auroma of a decent cooked meal whilst the fingers of his left hand had slid across to the opposite side of the dish, grazing the hilt of a knife.

The man reeled himself upward to meet the woman face to face. "I had chosen to ...simply because I was left with no other option. I ...preferred that the both of us could ...settle the odds with the price deal of a /clean/ cut."

Lecter felt pleased with her plan, despite that it was poorly thought out. "How do you taste?" He asked, regarding the bite sized chunk removed mid center.

"Over cooked."

"Hm, " Hannibal tilted his chin in acknowledgment of the double meaning, he then knew all too well that her plan did not include having him for dinner.

In one quick gesture, Bedelia had risen her hand from under the table, successfully lunging the spikes from the fork into his chest cavity and managed to fall in the process with her back colliding on to the cherry wood surface beside her.

Hannibal brought the blade slicing diagonally across her throat, then removed the cutlery from his chest. Blood cascaded in a fine spray bathing his face and the meal that the back of her head tipped over against. The gradual rise of satisfaction clearly visible under layers of blood painted on his features, lips tugged into his trademark smile.

. .. .. ... .

A mixture of the sacrifice was seasoned by prideful hands, rolling out firm meat along a cutting board. Fingers bend and mold, massaging the deepest of red and pulling unneeded lard from smooth corners.

Vegetables, wet from crystal water, galloped from out of an ivory bowl and into the fryer. Under the skillets surface, flames danced upward into a spiral of smoke as a stern hand shook its handle to separate the garnished broccoli and herbs.

Sauce was next, a sweet cranberry Thai liquid specifically made for the delicacy in which Hannibal had already begun cooking.

Moments later, a pan of meat was placed in the large oven.