You were sitting on the floor of Hannibal’s kitchen, heart pounding fast in reminder of what you just did. You stare down at your blood-stained hands, glancing up to see your reflection in the oven, red all around your mouth.

You heard him enter and looked up with tears in your eyes. Hannibal didn’t seem overly bothered by the half-eaten man on his floor, rather concerned for you. He came to kneel beside you, “What happened?”