Where is My Mind? — Pixies
Will had sat in the absolute darkness of his cell. The only light offered was from the ceiling in the corridor about a cell away from his own.
Albeit even at it's brightest, it was very dim.
It smelt dank and rotten, something like what you'd expect from an old cellar. Unfortunately someone on the end of his block had tendancies to use the bathroom wherever he felt fit.
Which was not by any means the toilet.
At first Will was repulsed. But now time has past and he had gotten used to it and the only thing on his mind was the man who did him wrong.
Hannibal.
The bitterness had hardened the once wayward empath.
Or seemed to.
Some students requested to visit him on their off days but he wouldn't allow it.
He rejected them.
He was, after all, too busy conjuring the demise of the good Doctor.
Once he considered just doing the time. Just letting him win. But he found fuel in the new found hatred he harbored and held tightly onto it.
He wouldn't live out the rest of his life in this hell.
Dying there was not a choice.
Will Graham layed still on his makeshift bed in his cell. Watching the water slip through the cracks in the ceiling, these cracks were akin to veins by design. Design. One not of his own...
But no longer was anything his own.
Dark eyes felt heavy and slowly shut.
The thought often passed him, the girl he had befriended years ago, the stranger wearing a familiar face. He thought about how she was to be alone with the monster who incarcerated him.
Banished him to this cement and metal hell.
That girl was important to him, she was his friend. Ever since he was little he moved from place to place, but she was the first to ever take time out of her day to talk to the boy who wasn't there.
The boy who had his head in the clouds.
The boy who would only be there for a moment.
And be gone the next.
Even when he felt he was alone, she was there to pry at him, make him open up to somebody. And she never looked at him like the weird q u i e t kid in the back of the class.
To think someone like her, became tangled up into this spider's web. Because she knew him.
He hated that.
What he hated more was that he knew Hannibal wasn't done weaving his web just yet. The people most important to him, Beverly, Jack... and Alana.
His friends. His family. They were involved in an evolving game of cat and mouse. And soon enough he knew the game would draw to an end once everyone was rounded up at Hannibal's table for dinner.
A man dressed in the aslyum worker garb strides by, a smug greasy look that made even Will's skin crawl, with a man following right behind him dressed in a green jumpsuit. In his hands a plant.
It was particular. It had a scent that was pleasant amongst the unappetizing aroma he was forced to adapt to before.
“Flowers. For you.” the asylum worker said in a demeaning tone “From who?” Will opened his eyes, slowly rising to an upright position facing the two men.
“Uh- Ms. India Maibus.” the man with the item in hand “Chrysanthemums. To brighten your living space, she said.”
“To brighten your living space.” the worker repeats very slowly, bemused by the originally kind gesture and attempting to twist it into some kind of joke.
‘I'm surprised Chilton didn't use this situation to his advantage. To try and have a session with me.’ Will thought to himself.
Keys spinning around the worker's fingers he takes his time approaching the cell door “You know the drill, Graham. Stay right where you are or we will sedate you.”
Will said nothing, watching closely as the door swung open and the two men move around the cell quickly to place the delivery down “I didn't know people were able to do these types of things at places like this.” Will mused aloud.
“You can't. But Ms. Maibus was veeeery instant you received these flowers. And after we tore up the thing and looked through it, we figured it was safe to be made available to you.” the worker said vacating the small area without hesitation.
Like anyone would who was only ten feet away from the Chesepeake Ripper.
“Of course, if you abuse this opportunity... And do something bad. We will take away privileges like this in the future, understood?”
He was rude. Speaking to Will as if he were a toddler in Kindergarten.
But the empath's attention wasn't on his endearing keeper but on his gift. It was a simple idea that meant very much to him, and it was a sign she was alive and well. Which was even better.
“I said, understood?”
Will stuttered “Y-yes. Understood.”
To this the fiendish worker mimicked “Y-yes. Y-yes.” in a high pitched voice. ‘For the Chesapeake Ripper he's not very intimidating. ’ the worker thought with a condescending feeling overcoming his male ego.
There was a note attached to one of the stems. ‘Must have been deemed safe for it to still be there,’ Will figured.
He arose from his seat and made his way to it, the sweet smell growing stronger with every step closer.
Fingers caress the paper, it felt thick like the canvas used for watercolor painting. Then just like that he snatched it and yanked it off like one would a bandaid.
‘Will,
This past month has been odd beyond all else. After the dinner that night I'm beside myself. Then I read in the paper this morning that you were the one responsible for all those killings in the news.
It's not you, Will. You're not a killer. I know this because I know you.
But maybe not as much as I thought I did.
Please, for my peace of mind, tell me. Are you a killer, Will?
— India’
Will sat back on his bed, slinking in it, could it be that she believes him?
He can't demand she visit. But maybe he could request writing a letter back. Maybe.
The paper began to crumple in his forming fist, the crushing sound satisfying him.
He would prove his innocence.
But he was worried even more for India now than ever. If she suspects someone else to be the Ripper, if she voices to Hannibal even once that she doesn't believe he's guilty, she could wind up dead. Displayed for the FBI to see and depict.
Couldn't she?
Or would she end up on the cannibal's table...? Every part of her body being consumed sent to Lucifer's belly.
Dread reintroduced itself to Will, what would he do? What could he do? Write her that it's Hannibal?
He couldn't.
She would quite possibly mention that as well.
The feeling was like being bashed in the face of punched in his solar plexus. Leaving him beyond winded.
A panic attack seeped through his already cracking visage of bravery and aloofness; his friends could die. His breathing became erratic and his body shook violently, curling into fetal position and laying down.
Waiting for this feeling to pass by.
It grew stronger, hyperventilating, jaw jittering and teeth clacking.
“Deep breaths, Mr. Graham.” a cheshire voice from beyond the wall soothed “Just close your eyes and let the air run through you.”
Abel Gideon.
Abel Gideon was here, and in a cell next to his own, no less. Will stayed quiet, trying to ground himself.
“Today is January eleventh, 2014.” he began in a quaky voice.
His body felt as if it were in free-fall. Like his body lost the feeling sense.
“Who are you, Mr. Graham?” Abel inquired. Silence for a moment, causing the killer to wonder “Who are you, Mr. Graham?”
“My name is Will Graham.”
“What are you doing, right now?”
“I am grounding myself.” he responded.
“And why are you afraid, Mr. Graham?”
“Because the fox has entered the hen house.”
✒
Just a short chapter, like the last. I hope you guys like it. I've been on a much needed vacation and found a small glimmer of inspiration, just enough to finish this and another unfinished chapter I have written.
Bare with me, there isn't as much Hannibal in these chapters.
But I'm trying. He takes a lot of thought to write out.