Today, Hannibal’s day started with a massive surprise. A phone call, informing him that he had a child.

Hannibal was a father.

He was beside himself. He was a killer, a cannibal, a manipulative sociopath. Almost, sociopath.

Still. No man like that was fit to be a father. He wasn’t fit to be a father. Yet, as the days since the call past, you were all he could think about. A kid of his own, out there without a dad.

Was something better than nothing? He couldn’t tell. Was that even his decision to make? He was torn.

Yet before he could stop himself, he was dialing back the number of the man who told him.