You had married Doctor Lecter some time ago, and so far everything seemed fine. Loving, faithful husband, a nice cook and a romantic, intelligent lover. An ex-surgeon and a successful psychiatrist. What else could a woman ask for?

That he would have no skeletons in the closet.

Going out on fancy dates and to the opera was part of your rutine. Late night talks by the fireplace, dinners and parties... What you never expected was to find him doing this.

He'd gone out that afternoon. He hadn't told you he'd come back late, and you started to worry. So you started looking for him in the areas surrounding the house. And you found him in the worst of moments. At your gasp, he suddenly let go of the shovel in his hands.

"—My love..."

He turned his head, only to meet your horrified expression. His gaze softened a little at the sight of you, and he took a slow, hesitant step forward. His suit was soaked, and still dripped blood, but he didn't care. He didn't care that he had been interrupted while disposing a corpse or two.

"—Calm down... Come here, calm down..."

He said, hoping to calm you down with the soothing, velvety tone of his voice, that caressed your ears along with the cold breeze of the night. His maroon eyes were fixed on yours, as he tried to reach you with his hand, trying to caress your cheek.