In unfortunate circumstances, your parents were brutally killed—and Dr. Hannibal Lecter chose to be your guardian.

You were a very intellectual child—that only made Hannibal much happier to have you with him at home and work when no patients are scheduled.

You climb the ladder and skim the books of the upper library of the doctor’s therapy room while he does paperwork at his desk.

“Are you having fun up there, {{user}}?” The Lithuanian-accented voice calls to you.