| Hannibal Breaks- Written By Rube |
| Mindless hours of typing on a computer screen and receiving absolutely nothing in return can cause one's mind to stray in different directions, some of which may not have, as a rule, been thought about in any other situation. Perhaps even disgust or humiliation would have been felt on another occasion. Who can say for sure? But Clarice would have been quite mortified if anyone had been spying on her one afternoon in 'Hannibal's House.' The search on most online auctions had been unsuccessful (it would be another six hours before her brain un-freezed enough to try e-bay). And now, with the resources seemingly desert dry, Clarice had naught to do but stare at her walls, and if she wanted to exhaust herself further, she could study up even more on Lecter's past, but that seemed almost beyond tediously dull and to the point of desperation. The very same doctor's face seemed to be mocking her, peering down scornfully from his height on her board. Clarice purposefully moved her computer so she couldn't see Doctor Lecter's blue eyes, and continued on typing his name into various sites. Of course they pulled back absolutely nothing. "Damn it," she scowled, typing with speed and some strength to where her keyboard snapped back at her. The haunting silence that echoed back seemed to jeer at her, and so, angered, she pressed the play button on her rather giant stereo. Doctor Lecter's voice filled the silence, and she settled back into her chair and mind numbing boredom. This had to be the tenth time she listened to the tape of their conversations back in Baltimore, but she never tired of hearing them. "...don't you? You think if Catherine lives you won't wake up in the dark ever again...to that awful screaming of the lambs?" His intonation was approximately restful. Clarice didn't question how Chilton had gotten THESE tapes...she had figured that Chilton would sink so low to do something along those lines and wasn't surprised when he didn't stop. "I don't know, I don't know," she heard herself reply in a hushed and teary voice. All the memory from that night was fresh, even now. "Thank you, Clarice. Thank you." His voice was so soft, like how authors wrote voices in romance books. Doctor Lecter was a harsh contrast, however, to the politically correct and law abiding (usually) characters in fluff books. He was the kind of man one would write about in Vampire Erotica, not Historical Romances. Clarice shook her head hard enough to give her a headache. What was this new side of thinking of Doctor Lecter as a romantic figure, however fallaciously? These long hours in a basement had to be messing with her mind, turning things around and warping her good sense of judgment, reducing it to babble. �God, you�re so tired Clarice,� she told herself, stretching back in her chair to where she was afraid she�d fall over and out. �Your fucking mind has officially taken a hike. Look at you, you�re talking to yourself. Ugh.� Heated, she came back to the computer from her stretch and found that when she changed positions, Doctor Lecter�s eyes were on her again. Clarice remembered the conversations without trying, she realized as she switched the tape over to the first in her pile. It was superfluous to listen to these tapes. ��Hester Mofet?� �The Rest of Me?� �Miss The Rest of Me?� Meaning that you rented that garage,� her sharp and accented voice barked. Clarice mouthed the words along with the tape. A loud sound, somewhere between a bang and a slide filled the room and Clarice saw in her mind that food carrier shooting out next to her. Deep into the cell, she couldn�t see him, but knew he was there, looking perfectly right back at her. It demoralized her, but didn�t make her angry. �Thank you,� she said, and then Doctor Lecter�s ideal voice cut into the scope. Clarice remembered the tingle she had felt; the slippery spikes of energy that delimited on provocation. She still felt that electric pulse, still craved it and that was why it wasn�t enough to merely recollect. She had to listen and revive. Somewhere between his first and second word, Clarice felt her belly slide to beneath her feet. She was afraid that if she looked down, she�d see it there, slimy and hot, staring up at her with accusation. Clarice was also afraid of her own body�s response to his words, the dampening between her thighs and the continuation of the exciting thrill that ran through her. Energy streaming all the way through her, arousal dampening places that she should be horrified to allow Doctor Lecter to stir, Clarice was a fidgety picture in the darkness of �Hannibal�s House.� Her better judgment frayed, Clarice kicked her legs up onto her desk to allow...those places to dry, hitting items over in her doing so. �I need a break,� Clarice sighed to herself when she reflected on how ridiculous this was. Here she was, legs perched up on her desk, Hannibal �The Cannibal� Lecter player over her stereo. The thought of actually being stimulated by her surroundings caused a laugh. �...what I want is a window where I can see a tree, or even water...� Doctor Lecter told her. �Hear hear,� Clarice grumbled, looking around and the starkness of her �office.� It was so impersonal and claustrophobic, piled with items and photographs...the crime scene photos were in the other room, else she would have been disgusted with herself being aroused in the face of such brutality. Clarice�s attempts to calm her thrilled body down were not in avail. The wetness between her legs was still there, and increasing as she listened to Lecter�s voice. �You are so crazy, girl,� she heard herself say, and was surprised when it turned out to be her own current voice and not on the speakers. She hadn�t even realized she was speaking. �Letting some cannibal turn you on.� <Yes, but it was so good,> her mischievous little mind argued back, reminding her of the pleasant tingle down below. �Fuck, I�m not going to argue that.� And she wasn�t; the tone of Lecter�s voice combined with the swelling she was feeling was too good to stop. Clarice had better get home or she�d embarrass the hell out of herself soon. Turn page to next part of story.... |