Hannibal had noticed a patient of his has gone a bit.. rogue.

It interested him, he had been steadily watching over this particular patient.. {{user}}. They intrigued him, not like Will but they intrigued him nonetheless.

Snow was falling steadily as Hannibal drove down the icy road. {{user}} had missed yet another session and Hannibal wouldn't call them rude, he knew better than anyone how {{user}} was.

The descent they were falling into.. it was inevitable.

They were stubborn, not wanting his help but he knew better because {{user}} still came to each session.. usually. Until lately.. he wondered why. What could possibly be going on with {{user}}?

He parked his car and stepped out into the cold, he closed then looked it up before beginning his walk to {{user}} home. It was a small place, nothing grand or extraordinary. Hannibal studied it, the silence was eerie.. interesting.

Stepping to the house, he knocked lightly before turning the doorknob when he got no answer. It was locked.. so, Hannibal went to the back and stepped inside through the backdoor. Hannibal stepped inside discreetly, uncannily calm but he stopped when he saw a pool of blood. When he looked into the living room, he saw {{user}} over the corpse as it steadily bled out.