Hannibal is setting the
placemats on the table, and adds a centerpiece of a combination of
irises, gladioli, orchids, and bells of Ireland flowers. He would
have used a different combination, but he did not want to intimidate
her by setting such an intimate atmosphere. The theme for tonight's
dinner was welcoming and whimsical. Yet, there was an air of certain
intimacy nevertheless, judging by the formality of the food and the
romantic lighting of the dining room.
And, as Hannibal Lecter
very well knows, lighting is everything.
He is dressed in a
tasteful crisp white button down shirt and black pants that fasten at
his waist with a black belt, and as our eyes travel farther down, the
outfit is completed with Italian brown leather shoes.
He is now
placing the recently purchased crystal wine glasses next to his fine
china plates, wondering if Katy has sported the dress yet. The
evening altogether reminds him of the night he and Clarice spent
together with Paul Krendler. His mouth curls into a reminiscent
smile.
He had bought a dress
resembling the one he had presented to Clarice, those many years ago.
It seemed fitting for a reason yet unbeknownst to him that he should
attempt to recreate this evening as it had happened with Clarice.
The duck was prepared. He decided that he would not, however,
give Katy an injection before dinner, as he had with Clarice. He
wanted her mind free and unclouded, uncontrolled. This decision,
however, makes his ultimate goal all the more difficult. Only when
one's mind is inebriated can one truly plumb the depths of the
other's mind, without the obstacles of conscious thought. This will
be exceptionally difficult tonight, seeing as, unlike Clarice, Katy
has not met with Hannibal Lecter on a number of occasions, has not
adjusted to his unique, subtly probing nature. This fact, in turn,
will keep her guard up and make it ever more solid. What reason does
she have to trust him, thus far? He has not told her the whereabouts
of the house. He has given her his name, but she barely recalls what
it was for that Hannibal Lecter appeared in the newspaper. She was
not brought up in a cozy home with a television and news channels.
She had no idea who, or rather what he was. For all she knew, he
could be a madman. He chuckled at that thought.
But he will
change all that tonight, he thought.
Hannibal climbed the
staircase to alert Katy that dinner was ready. He stopped outside and
raised his index finger. Softly, he knocked twice with his knuckle.
Six seconds passed, then the doorknob turned and there she was. For a
moment he was speechless. She looked devine. Possibly even more so
than Clarice in that fine cream gown. Here was another event this
evening had in common, he thought to himself. Both women made him
unable to speak.
He saw how her dress flattered her body, how it
clung in some places and flowed out in others. It was not a
complicated dress, with many patterns and gathers and so on. It was
merely a simple dinner dress, but he ponders if the simplicity of the
dress brings out the extravagance of her features. Her expression
itself seemed different. He guessed that the bath had done her a
world of good. Her hair shimmered over her shoulders, over that
creamy skin, and bright eyes stared into his with slight puzzlement
behind them.
During that speechless moment, his heart skipped a
beat, but only for a split second. He examined all this in the space
of a second, but he soon regained his control over his body in
moments.
"Dinner is ready, Ms. Opiela. If you wish a few more
moments to yourself, I shall be waiting."
"Thank you, Dr.
Lecter."
He inclined his head and made his way back down the
stairs, into the living room.
Hannibal stood in front
of the fireplace, thinking. He decided to walk through his memory
palace. Closing his eyes, he enters his majestic creation.
Hannibal
walks leisurely down a wide, colorful hallway, finally deciding to
dedicate a vacant room to Katy Opiela. He finds a suitable room
upstairs, in a sunny corridor, with big windows letting in rays of
light. He chooses to store the bead of water and the image of her in
the dinner dress, during that time-freezing second. A fine room it is
too, one that he foresees visiting many times in the future. He
leaves the room, only to happen across Clarice Starling's room,
which he stored in the same corridor. He finds that he should attempt
to erase the memories inside the room. He enters, and sees a lamb
asleep on the floor. The memory of the running Starling is embodied
in that lamb. This is the memory hardest to erase. He finds himself
watching it. She runs lightly, not fighting the ground, her hair
bouncing with every step. A deer is near his sitting spot. The image
of the deer in the woods flickers, and suddenly he is not in
Clarice's room anymore. He is in the basement, the cellar. A small
scrawny deer trembles as it attempts to fight the men bringing it
into the shed. Dr. Lecter…The scene changes to the deer skull
bubbling in the bathtub, knocking against the edges. Mischa's teeth
inside the tub. He can't bear it anymore. Dr. Lecter… Mischa
being swung out the shed door by her wrists. No…please, not this…
"Anniba!" NO!
"Dr. Lecter…?" Hannibal is brought
back to the present by a gentle touch on his shoulder. He turns and
sees the slightly concerned face of Katy. The touch registers as a
glint in his eyes. "Are…are you alright?"
"Fine, thank you. Shall we?" he gestures to the dining room. She nods and they make their way together.