Chapter Text
The sounds of a cello filled the room, clouding the air like light fog. It was one of Bach’s cello suites, warm and powerful and demanding. Whoever chose to listen to the piece had chosen well. The stereo in the sitting room was of exceptional quality and Lecter would have it no other way. He wouldn’t subject his ears and the ears of his flock to tinny, fuzzy feedback. One of the first renovations made to the old converted inn was to upgrade the sound system.
Lecter descended the grand staircase, watching the three newest members as they talked with the others, joyous smiles on their faces. They were so young and pliable. With time he could shape the broken shards of their minds into grand swords, worthy of a place in his arsenal. But these girls were not meant to be weapons. They did not have the darkness within their hearts. In time he would influence them, they would serve him well, clean his messes and seek out other lost souls for him to feed on. But their destiny was never to be hunters, only gatherers.
Lecter would protect the girls, house and feed and nurture them to the best of his ability. He had always taken care of the helpless. His doors were open to all, the mighty and the meek. All he asked in return was absolute faith and submission. His flock all readily accepted his terms.
His work began several years ago from a dream. The dream was his revelation and shortly afterwards he posted the first video online, sharing his message with the world. It was a very simple message that all could understand. Morality is a social construct put in place to control; telling others to forgo morality, to embrace themselves, to seek out true happiness. With so many broken, miserable souls in the world it was no wonder his message rang out like a beacon of hope.
Tired of the monotony, tired of being abused, tired of being alone, tired of the misery and hopelessness that their lives were made up of, his flock came to him and within five months Lecter closed his psychiatric practice to focus on the needs of his followers. After a year of gatherings held in his home and office, his followers had grown too large for Baltimore. He used donations to move the group from Baltimore to an old converted inn just outside Chesapeake, Virginia. The ample space and more private location served as the perfect base of operations and more followers moved to the area each week, snatching up nearby homes and rental properties to be closer to their master.
Barney Matthews, a former orderly from the Baltimore Hospital for the Criminally Insane that Lecter had met during his days as a psychiatrist, ran the day to day operations of the main compound. He kept watch on the newest members and served as the ideal assistant, his calm reserve and easygoing nature was the perfect counter to Lecter’s intense presence.
Barney entered the sitting room from the kitchen and placed an arm on one of the girls’ shoulders, talking softly about something Lecter couldn’t quite catch from his place at the landing of the stairs. He walked forward and entered the room, several voices falling silent in reverence.
“Evening,” Hannibal addressed the room with a tilt of his head. A chorus of quiet greetings answered, several of his lambs bowed their heads, sweet Georgia falling to her knees from her spot on the couch in the corner. Lecter’s lips turned upwards into a small grin as he looked at his newest members.
“It’s an honor to be here, sir. Thank you for taking us in,” Marissa spoke quietly, being the bravest of the three. Her eyes were fixed on his nose, too nervous to meet his eyes just yet.
“We are all part of a family, understand?” he tilted Marissa’s chin up with his finger, forcing her to meet his eyes. The girl didn’t blink, didn’t speak, she just gazed into the endless dark held within him. “And families must take care of each other.”
Georgia clapped loudly, muttering the word family over and over as she rocked from her spot on the floor. Elise and Cassie looked up at their master, rendered just as silent as their friend by his presence.
Lecter smiled, baring his sharp, pointed teeth for a moment and let his hand fall away, “Have you all settled into your rooms?”
The three nodded, none looking away now, the realization that they were in his presence finally after months of longing.
“I am glad to hear it. If you’re ever in need of anything, Barney here will help you. I’ll leave you to look around and meet everyone,” he looked up and addressed the rest of the room. “Tonight’s service will be at six. I’ll see you all then.”
One of the earlier converts was Inelle Corey. A kind, simple woman with a subconscious desire to seek out spiritual enlightenment; a former member of the Church of Christ, and briefly the Church of the Nazarene, the day she found Lecter’s sermons on the internet was the day she left her life behind and started following her master’s path.
Pale and not in the greatest of health, she initially served the group in only a monetary capacity. Her cooking was not up to par and she got winded after cleaning several rooms. Where she really shined was in her ability to serve as a mother hen figure to younger converts. Sweet and relatable in her southern belle charm, she was another buffer to Lecter’s somewhat frosty exterior.
Hannibal liked Inelle as he did the rest of his flock. She was a lamb in his charge, to be protected and guided along. Inelle, unlike most of his flock however, came with unforeseen baggage that Lecter could not ignore.
Part of that life she left behind when following her master was a fiancé by the name of Frederick Chilton. Hannibal was well aware of the man, an insufferable and incompetent gnat he had the displeasure of working with in his previous life as a psychiatrist, the same Chilton that used to be Barney Matthew’s boss. Losing a trusted employee to a religious cult is one thing, but losing a fiancé to the same in a matter of days was too much for Mr. Chilton to bear.
And so for the past year, much to Lecter’s ire, Mr. Chilton buzzed around the compound, doing all he could to try and win back the affections of his former love.
Hannibal grit his teeth as the phone rang yet again from an increasingly desperate Chilton. He placed the phone off the hook and folded his hands, mulling over his thoughts on what to do. Dear Frederick had long since earned a space on Lecter’s dinner table, the increasing noise the pathetic pig insisted on making had forced Lecter’s hand. It just wouldn’t do to have him nosing around. No, it was time for Lecter to pay him a visit.
Hannibal slipped away from the others after the night’s sermon. They wouldn’t notice his absence for some time, the main hall still abuzz with eager discussion over the night’s message. It was common for his lambs to gestate over his words, each finding their own sense of solace in his messages.
He left a text for Barney, telling him that he was out on a hunt, Barney being one of the few lambs to know precisely what Lecter’s hunts meant. He would be back in a few hours and would need complete peace in the kitchen upon his return.
It was easy for Lecter to find Chilton, the gnat had mailed an impressive stack of letters to his dear Inelle consistently for the past year, each passing letter taking an increasingly pathetic tone, even once going so far as to saying he’d sooner slit his own wrists than to be without her a night longer. The corner of Lecter’s mouth twitched, that could certainly be arranged.
The last week of letter’s were all sent from a local motel, the kind of motel that got more traffic from drug dealers and ladies of the night hoping to turn a trick than from businessmen and families on holiday. Lecter reached the motel within minutes, pulling on gloves and carrying a bag of tools with him before walking up the stairs to Chilton’s room and knocked on the door.
A teary eyed Chilton opened the door, judging from his state of undress and the smell of his hand at the door, it was likely that he’d been interrupted during a pitiful session of self love. What a pathetic swine, he probably used his own tears as lubrication.
“D-Dr. Lecter?” Chilton stuttered, obviously shocked to see the man towering over him in the doorway. “Is… is this about Inelle? Has she agreed to talk with me? Oh, I knew she would… She just had to come to her senses is all.”
The shell of a man turned around and retreated into the room, leaving the door open in a silent greeting for Hannibal. The man closed the door and locked it behind him, taking in the surroundings.
“Is Inelle outside? In the car? I… I’ll convert if that’s what it ta-“
Lecter grabbed the man, gripping his throat tightly, putting enough pressure on his trachea that he could hardly take in air.
“Now, now, Chilton, that won’t be necessary. I’m afraid you don’t meet the requirements to be accepted into my family,” Chilton made a gargling sound, his pudgy fingers scrambling uselessly at Hannibal’s. “Not to worry, you’ll be coming back with me tonight. You wanted to be with Inelle forever, correct? The last thing I’d want to do is to keep two lovers like yourselves apart.”
Chilton’s vision began to blur from the lack of oxygen, his fingers twitching desperately as his lungs were starved. A deep chuckle vibrated out from Lecter’s chest. He pulled Chilton around and looked at him with a sickening smile, pinpricks of red dancing over his iris.
“Inelle will have you, body and soul,” were the last words Chilton heard.
Lecter placed Chilton’s body on the floor of the room, opening his bag and retrieving a rug to wrap the body in for easy removal. He doubted that anyone would approach him as he left the room, people in motels this grungy kept to themselves, but at least the rug would provide an adequate cover.
He made quick work of cleaning the room, the only evidence being a small hair fiber he plucked from the carpet with a pair of tweezers. Lecter closed the bag, slinging it over his shoulder before lifting Chilton’s body and exited the room.
The mobile in his pocket buzzed after he set Chilton down in the backseat of his Bentley. Lecter closed the door and got in the passenger’s seat before checking his phone.
kitchen clear. need help?
Lecter quickly typed back his response before pocketing the phone and drove back to the compound, unobserved and undetected.
The next evening the dining hall was abuzz with conversation. Light music played throughout the room, little lambs finding their seats at the grand table. Lecter had a few help with giving out the plates of food. He personally delivered a plate to Inelle, smiling back in an almost sinister fashion.
He took his seat at the head of the table and addressed his flock, giving a small prayer, watching each head bow in reverence to him before clapping his hands and taking the first bite. The meat was beautifully prepared, perfectly seasoned. Truly, dear Frederick made a better appetizer than he did a person.
Hannibal enjoyed the meal, watching Inelle slice into the beautiful dish comprised of her former beau, and felt at peace. The perfect world he’d crafted for himself was a dream; wealth and power and elegance. It’s a dream that’s incomplete. He wondered to himself what it would be like if the space beside him was taken by a beautiful, rosy cheeked, blonde woman with star shaped hands and an infectious smile.