Revenge isn't always Sweet

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                A rage she had sensed before but had no idea it was this intense, now the scent of it fell off him rancid and sickening. Her stomach turned at the sight of his eyes wide and unblinking staring down at her with such malice she feared he would stand from the chair and throw her down below in the pit in that moment alone. Instead he rolled forward on the squeaky wheels of crimson painted wheelchair and reached out the paling fingers to touch her cheek. Hope shied away at first but that only prompted him to grasp at the lock of her hair in his deathly grip and yank, so she permitted his touch. It was slimy and cold, similar to the cadavers touch. Lacking all the warmth and pleasure a human hand can provide this was the smooth caress of a corpse's hand. She shuddered and closed her eyes tight not wanting to stare in his eyes as his tongue stuck out, turtle-like and wet to lick around the layer of skin that resembled nothing of the lips it had been reconstructed to be. Hope feared him. A fear that propelled her to stay strong till he rolled away with a taunting cackle and the warmth of the orderly from before brushed against her hair. He set something down to the ground and than followed after as Mason called to him. When she opened her eyes once more it was a pocket knife. A way to escape. She clicked open the blade storing it in her hands and began to wrench away at the ropes till they gave and fell in a heap to the floor. Than, once free, she tested her leg strength before standing up fully erect and made her way down the ramp clutching the cool plastic in her palm. Hannibal was coming and he needed her help. 

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                                                               ~ Three Hours Later~ 

                      Hope stood in the shadows of the room from before watching silently as Hannibal held aloft an injured Clarice while boars mulled around unconcerned with them, focused instead on the limp screaming bodies of the former intruders. She had spent hours roaming the landscape of the area trying to find an escape or some kind or a way to contact them but with so many acres she had quickly grown lost and returned to this sight. A burning hatred grew as she heard Mason demand the orderly to fire at them. His hands shook holding up the silver pistol in the dull glow of a hanging lamp pointing it at the poised Dr. Lecter before frightened off by his dead stare scampered away. In his place she crept up the ramp behind Verger who rolled up to the edge attempting to grasp at the remote controlling the entire fiasco. Though it's smooth plastic fell from his rigid fingers to the floor and once leaning to grasp it she took the opportunity to place her foot against the metal rod on the back of his chair. Staring into those unblinking eyes with a triumphant smirk for what felt like an eternity and than with all her might pushing her leg forward and pitching the chair tumbling into the cage in front of Hannibal. With the clattering noise and screech of pain came the boars attention and they waddled over, bellies full and dangling but hungering for more approached the cripple's jerking body. One snuffled at him with their wide snout before baring it's teeth and with a magnificent crunch tore into the skull with deadly accuracy. All pleads for mercy and aid were silenced with the sound and around him came other pigs looking to dig into the buffet of meat. Hannibal no longer interested them so most simply bounced him aside with their heavy bodies and he made his way gracefully to the other side where he exited still clutching Clarice in his arms. 

              Hope rushed down to greet him, heart full with jubilant to see both of them were unharmed besides a minuscule gash at the base of his forehead and a gunshot wound towards Clarice's shoulder that occurred during the struggle. She stripped away her black overcoat draping it over the wound that began to geyser with blood in an attempt to clot it in the moment. Luckily it was just a graze of the bullet which clipped the top of her shoulder but didn't do much else damage meaning blood loss wasn't a major concern. She regarded any other injuries and was relieved to see none were caused by the great beasts. Only gazing away when she felt the warmth of a touch to her cheek and she looked up to see Hannibal with his eyes wide and eternally blue, filled with concern.. for her? He said nothing, pressing forward till only the limp body of Clarice stood in their path and leaning in close till there were only a few inches between them.

              Hope could feel his breath warm and inviting mingling with her own and her eyes wandered down to the thin lips chapped but a light pink curled in a small coy smile. My how she missed that smile, hardly registering the changes in his face till she raised her hand in return and ran them down the narrower path of his nose and the defined features of his cheeks with a quirked eyebrow. No words were shared between them but a general understanding of the language played out where both of them understood the other without having to vocalize it aloud. In that moment the noise and the squeals drowned out and it was just the two of them. No one else in the world stood in their path and all she wanted to do was capture those lips in her own and show him how much that meant to her. However the moment was broken by the shifting groans of Starling growing restless in his tight grasp. He broke away and Hope couldn't help the rush of disappointment that engulfed her whole. 

"I'll show you the way out." He mumbled in a hoarse whisper clearly perturbed by the situation himself and turned without sparing another glance. Flouncing over the fields of grass with such speed that she struggled to keep up limping on one leg and cursing the pain it brought her. They crossed past the empty white picket fence where the distant nickering of horses in their stalls reminded her of the children that sat atop their backs and bouncing as it trotted along. She furrowed her brows and for once the realization hit her. Mason was dead. She had killed him. The dew staining her white socks was as cold as the metal bar as she pushed against it. His body a horrible rag doll caught under the weight of his chair could do nothing in defense for the carnivorous boars, and she knew that. In his last moments all he could do was screech and squirm like a worm caught on a hook, watching as death approached. A bile rose in her throat that once they reached the van had become too much and she turned away to vomit in the fields edge. It burned at her already injured throat and a foul taste stained her mouth with the reminder of the sins she had done. Hannibal stalked over calm as always and placed a firm but comforting hand on her shoulder sensing the distress. 

"It was not your fault my dear.. Mason was a pedophile and a vile creature that bore nothing but a stain on this Earth. Had it not been for you, it would have been I who was feasted on by the boars. Don't forget that." 

She heaved a heavy sigh. "I won't.. Thank y-" 

Before she could reply fully he inserted a needle into the side of her neck and the instant the liquid entered her blood stream she fell to the gravel ground unconscious. 

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