Hannibal Lecter

"I wouldn't say dirty... It's to cleanse you, I'll be with you the entire time. You'll need medicine daily for a week or so."

Hannibal chuckled. "They will grow back but it will take time and make him rethink such behaviour in the future. You'll need some medication soon, to help cleanse your body."

"Not at all." Hannibal stretches in their bed, watching Arun. "My sweet boy, how are you feeling after last night?"

"Feeling better, my Love?"

Hannibal squeezes Arun's hand. ~I adored you, Arun. Truly.~

Hannibal gives a small bow. All was forgiven. The hands are taken, to be placed on their mantle. "Come, my Love." The crowd was jeering as they descended the platform.

Vampires were vicious creatures, sadists even for their own kind. The second hand is taken, more dark blood spraying over himself and the crowd. ~We shall worry about the money later, you don't need such pressures.~ The hands are taken. Alexander would grow new ones but it was still unpleasant.

"Hide your face, Arun. You are not to witness this violence." Hannibal takes the axe and wastes no time in swinging the axe. The first hand comes clean off.

Hannibal raises an eyebrow but says nothing else. ~Honestly, Nicholas... Perhaps I should take him to the North...~ The depressing vampire village of starved monks in the Arctic. "Shall we begin?"

Hannibal enters first, in full regal attire. His robes were black with black fur trim. Arun was dressed in black too but shrouded in black lace, covering his entire person. Hannibal was somber too, looking only at Nicholas. This little event needed to end, vampires held grudges.

-- he had his sweet mortal companion. His perfect Arun.

Hannibal had been icy but calm. He detested them all, such miserable creatures far beneath him but he had Arun to think of. His sweet boy needed him, to right the wrongs, to protect him. Hannibal leaves. They would return home the following day or so, Hannibal didn't need their company now that --

Hannibal nodded and stood. "I will see you tonight. Keep well, Nicholas."

-- "And Alexander will present the money with his other hand." He'll take the money too.

"Tonight, before the festivities, in front of everyone. Arun will be indisposed for quite some time too. If he does not survive the termination, we shall see what else doesn't survive." A threat. Hannibal had no loyalties to anyone but himself, he would happily burn down their world. --

At least some responsibility was being taken. "I'll take a hand. I'll leave the method up to you."

"Adequate retribution. Outcomes are not satisfactory if there's no real cost, is there? A few payments, at no cost to him, hardly counts as retribution. Physical, visible harm. You won't be around forever to protect him and it isn't in his favour to make enemies, which comes so naturally to him."

"Can one put a price on a reputation? Having his father buy out all his bad behaviours might encourage him."

"You may call me Hannibal. What have you to offer me?'

They both knew why, Alexander was just like him. Hannibal takes a seat.

"It has been, Nicholas. Perhaps you need my company more often considering the quality you're producing."

Hannibal dones his robes and steps out. He locks the door behind him.

/Finally/. He could weep from frustration. He feeds one piece of mango. Then two. Soon, the whole fruit is gobbled up. "You must work through this, to make sure you eat."

"You are not permitted to starve yourself or to disobey me. Open your mouth."

Hannibal blinked. He was shocked. He then lunged at Arun and bit his neck. Nothing too vicious but deep. The boy needed sedating.

It was agony. "You will become sick and ... You /must/ eat. I do not wish to force you but I will."

"My Love. Please. You must. I cannot bear this. May I feed you?" He forks a piece of mango and holds it up to Arun's lips.

"Like you might vomit? Or something else?"

"My Love. My Soul. Please. You can eat whatever you wish, what do you desire?"

Hannibal isolates with Arun, tending to him. He orders Arun food, reads to him, almost smothers him with attention. His poor boy. His perfect boy.