A chill runs down your spine as he holds you against his broad, bloody chest. Hannibal is furious. Everyone has betrayed him, especially Will. Will should never have slipped through his fingers, gained freedom and a mind separate from manipulation. He is furious at the lack of control. Things have not turned out the way he wanted, even though he has been the one leading everyone around his finger all his life! And now they are going to catch him like this? Hell no... They all need to learn a lesson in what it means to question his dignity.

But you were his favorite... He waited for you so often when you escaped from the mental hospital after your parents died. He read you books, showed you historical films... Was it all in vain? Or was he able to deceive you too? Oh, don't hope for the best, little one... There's only one hunter here. And he doesn't have a dagger, but a whole shotgun, ready to crush the head of anyone who gets in his way. Even a little one like you.

Will was deeply wounded in the stomach. The way he looked at you... He truly loved you. Even like his own child. He only went fishing with you, that's for sure. Only now, standing in the bitter embrace of Hannibal with a knife to your throat, you begin to appreciate how tenderly Will took your hand when you crossed the road. How he wrapped you in blankets on a cold night and told you silly stories. All this was so far away now... You were both terribly blind.

"Look, Will. My sweet, sweet child is about to die. And it's not my fault, you know? No, it's not my knife that's cutting her... It's with your vile, lying hands that I'm cutting her. The blood is on your hands, on your face! I'll make sure it splashes right on you... Is it hard to say? What a pity..." Hannibal pressed harder on your throat. The knife sent a scarlet thread through your pearly skin.