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Sorry for the lack of update again, I was busy and it's finally summer time which means I have plenty of time for things now. Thank you for putting this story on your story alert and favorites and commenting. It's been very flattering and refreshing. ^_^. I warn you now that Lecter in this chapter will be very disturbing in his vengeance.

Penance

All of his senses intensified in a split of a second after Marie handed him the knife, attuning themselves to his surroundings. A combination of scents fogged his acute sense of smell, overwhelming him. His sight sharpened to every fine detail as a hunter's senses would. Although suffering through a sensory overload he glorified in it. The sound of staccato breathing whispered in the air as Dr. Lecter considered how to kill his given victim. Hanging? The thought merited appeal only if Ardelia was religious. Or perhaps he should filet her slowly and consume her. Hmm. Perhaps that was a bit over reaching, she had done nothing to warrant such a severe punishment. But his daughter expected her to suffer in some manner, such faith in his abilities his little Marie had. What to do, what to do. Oh how tedious murder was. But oh joy how he loved it so, giving the rude their penance. Perhaps indeed he had gone mad, he thought, but not so much. It was just a . . . change in diet. He chuckled darkly that frightened Ardelia slightly. Of all the crimes he had committed, it was cannibalism, the oldest and rather obtuse creativity that had caught the public's attention. They call him mad.

What a strange world society was. Perhaps that is why he disliked psychology in general. Studying was a science in a sense and therefore studying the minds of society was dull and quite frankly ridiculous. Studying the habits of the rude was like studying a well worn machine do the same thing over and over again with no sign of change. Yes, the appearance could change, but really the subconscious and the conscious would remain.

Quite melancholy those thoughts were but alas here he was.

Ardelia had no idea as to what would happen next as she began to sweat in the face of what she believed was evil in the truest sense. Dr. Lecter once told Clarice that if killing people were evil then God would be evil since he virtually kills his worshippers across the world every day. She tried vainly to control her breathing but the absolute pain in her legs overshadowed her will and surrendered to the pain. She never suspected Marie to have a vindictive streak and certainly one to this extreme. Marie had cut the tendons in her knees rendering her motionless. She dare not move for fear she might provoke the doctor. That was last thing she wanted to do.

Clarice sat on the couch in disbelief of what had just happened. Marie. Her Marie just killed FBI agents as though they were dolls. Outside her door no less! Leaning on the cushions on her couch, she treaded her hands through her hair as it fell forward to cover her face. Normally, she wasn't so emotional but with HIM being thrown back into the loop she called her life everything became much more complicated and secretly much more exciting. Recalling the days of being an agent for the FBI when she was handed crummy assignments as her peers progressed in their career while she was forever labeled FBI's Death Angel. Her life then had been significantly dull and she was unaware of the fact until he came into the picture again after ten years of hiding. From there things started to heat up as memories of their encounter in the dungeon basement surfaced.

. . . Do you think it's because I like to look at you and imagine how good you would taste, Clarice?

I don't know is it? . . .

. . . I've been in this room eight years now Clarice and I know they'll never let me out while I'm alive. What I want is a view. I want a window where I can see a tree or even water. I want to be in a federal institution far away from Dr. Chilton. . .

His words then had left her puzzled as it did even twenty years later. Twenty years. Had it really been that long since he left a permanent mar in her life? His mar, as it were, was a mystery and she didn't know she was marred until her colleagues differentiated themselves from her. It came as somewhat as a shock to her to see the headlines of the Tattler exploit her encounters of Hannibal the Cannibal. She thought wryly at the time that the details of the articles would infuriate the doctor if he had any access to them. But thought better of it because such a risky punishment would draw attention towards his carefully hidden self and she knew he would not risk his newly found freedom.

The years went by quickly for Clarice before coming to a stop at today, 2008. She was now in her forties with a nine year old child. Her once and only lover was standing not thirty feet away on the other side of a few walls.

She recollected then the situation she found herself in and realized the inevitable fate of her once friend Ardelia. She was going to die regardless of how tonight, she part in trying to apprehend Dr. Lecter sealed her fate. What that was Clarice did not know. But she knew it wouldn't be pleasant.

Marie sat at the edge of her chair in the kitchen, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for the smell of death to linger in the air. Thoughts of doing the deed herself instead of handing the knife to her father touched her conscious but realized the faulty in her decision. It would have been too quick and not allowed for the intended victim to be punished as she should. Her rage still hadn't calm even ten minutes after the encounter. Usually, it would have dissipated in two to three minutes. Was she losing control? No, she thought, that was silly. But it merits some displeasure though. . .

Suddenly, inspiration struck. Dr. Lecter recalled the history of the story and immediately decided that was the perfect penance for his unfortunate friend. He looked at the pitiful instrument called a knife in his hands and realized the knife would be adequate for the job but he would have to be very careful on how he achieved the job since the knife was not made to this type of task. It was after all a common pocket knife.

Approaching Ardelia, the doctor's eyes gleamed maliciously and provoked a whimper from his victim as she cowered at the doctor's feet. The helpless sound gave the doctor satisfaction but he was far from complete with his task.

Crouching to eye level with Ms. Mapp, he said in a low but intent filled voice "Are you familiar with Hypatia's history Ms. Mapp?"

When he got no response he continued, "She was a notable woman in mathematics in Ancient Greece, one of the first if I recall correctly. She also taught philosophy and astronomy which were the highlights of the age in those days, though she was much hesitated upon because she was believed to be a pagan. Pagans in 300AD and so forth were very frowned upon especially in the days of the Crusade. But you wouldn't really know about that would you, Agent Mapp?"

Ardelia's eyes narrowed at the doctor, which pleased him no less than a fall from grace would. Coincidently that was exactly his plan.

"They believe that one day in March in the early 400s AD that her chariot was waylaid on her journey home by an angry Christian mob led by a man called Peter. Christian monks then stripped her naked and dragged her body throughout the streets of the newly Christianized Caesaruem church. There at the church, she was killed in the most brutal manner. It is debatable whether flayed with pot shards and set ablaze or scraped her skins off with tiles and shells of oysters. . .

"I admit that I have no shells or tiles but improvisation was always a highlight of my career, agent map. So it is superbly fortunate that I have this pocketknife although it is not the most convenient of arsenal I have ever had but it will have to do" All the while sharpening the blade with the metal chair nearby.

Normally, he didn't taunt his victims but made them aware of their inevitable deaths, although in this case it was different. He recalled an incident not too long ago in Vienna, only a few months after he rendezvous with Clarice. The memory alone made him grit his teeth in anger.

It had been a quiet afternoon like many others the doctor has had in the twenty odd years of acquired freedom. He had been looking about in a wine shop to look for Chateau d'Yquem in the year of Clarice's birthday. It brought back the memory of his last attempt to give Clarice a wine for her birthday. However he failed miserably due to him being kidnapped by Mason's cohorts. Though he took comfort in the fact that Clarice received his gift even if it was lying under her car in a poor state next to his well wishing note next to it. After thirty minutes of searching, he had found it. It was his way of thanking Clarice for the weekend and to give her a little rather cheeky anecdote he had remembered on his way to his home in Vienna from Amsterdam. After Clarice's sudden departure he thought to relieve her anxiety by a comical event he had been the sad joke of. While he thought it was cruel then he now thought of as quite funny even if it was at his expense.

After being handed the wine in a bag he carried it out into the crowded streets of Vienna. He probably made it perhaps a mile and had three blocks to go from his home when he felt the threat of danger. Stopping a market selling fruits and vegetables, he slyly looked behind him using the glass like mirror in the store window to view behind him. With sunglasses on it was hard to tell what he was looking at. There next to the four-way were two men trying to look inconspicuous and failed miserably. They were dressed casually but the ear piece in their ears shown visibly. He scoffed at the attempt and thought nothing of it until he felt a gun cock and poke in his lower back.

The voice belonging to Ms. Mapp spoke through clenched teeth. "One move doctor and I'll blow you to kingdom come. I don't care if there are witnesses around but I swear to god one move to hell with protocol."

"Well, Ms. Mapp it seems fate has had a hand again in the two of us crossing paths. How is that you came upon me this time?"

"You don't actually think that we trust Clarice enough to go wandering about by herself do you? While you may have gotten off the hot list, people at the FBI are still looking to bring you in. It was pure coincidence that an ad to A.A Aaron came up in the papers and not one week later a flight to Amsterdam was paid in full in first class to Clarice. Not very subtle doctor"

Forgetting that one false move would end in his death he turned around to comment on Ardelia's rude and bold statement, the gun went off causing a panic throughout the block sending citizens astray. He recalled the bullet hitting him in his right shoulder and a blurry vision as he ran through the crowd to the nearest alleyway to his home. Thankfully, not one of the agents had a clue to where his home was, which was a penthouse apartment in a modest hotel. Owning a permanent home would not be convenient seeing as he moved every two years.

Using his jacket to hide his wound, he noticed that his hands had begun to get cold so he hurried to the hotel, walking stiffly to the elevators and pushed the penthouse floor. The next few days went by in a blur, but recalled having a close associate remove the bullet from his shoulder before smuggling him out of the country to Lithuania. The next few times he ran into trouble over the next few years left him not without scars. Even as bad as blistering burns from escaping a fire in his summer cottage in Poland set fire by none other than Agent Mapp.

The memory still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Let's start shall we?"

Ardelia, now realizing her time had come, began to struggle without much success as she screamed as the first slice was made.

Clarice startled by the first sound of screams became alarmed. Surely her neighbors would notice and call the police. Knowing the doctor, it would be gruesome but deserving punishment. The possibilities running through her mind sickened her but she couldn't prevent it. Nothing really could.

In the kitchen, Marie sat with a wistful smile as he anger was appeased. Eye for an eye she always believed.

Putting a hand over the fallen agent's mouth, it was muted somewhat as blood gurgled out and choking her in her efforts to breath. The sound of slicing and crunch and gurgling sounded in his ears as the scent of blood filled the air. He watched the blood from her body spread like a flood across the porch landing. He was halfway done, the reddish pink muscles made quite a sight that even he found sickening but continued on with his task. Slicing mechanically through the process until he felt no movement from the woman beneath him. He looked up and checked her pulse to find none. Thinking it suffice, he wiped his hands off with a handkerchief and dropped it over the bloody body.

He entered the house bloody looking briefly at Clarice before grabbing a lighter that lie on the table in front of her.

He motioned for Clarice to follow him as well as Marie who appeared at the doorway.

Before they could come out the front door he lit the lighter and dropped it over the dead body which caught fire quite easily.

The fire spread quicker than he expected and spread to the house to his surprise. Now was the time to move.

Sorry, it's been a hell of a week and the image in mind for this chapter was a bit disturbing to write and it may be over the top but I wrote it yay! But nonetheless R&R. thanks for reading and I have just a couple chapters left before this chapter comes to a conclusion.