Will Graham (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mindscapes) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
courtings2013-07-10 03:37 pm
mindscapes) wrote in courtings2013-07-10 03:37 pm
Entry tags:
[psl] you're burning yourself and your challenge to winter
Will had banged his fist on the door to Hannibal's office about ten separate times, at least. It was enough that his hand was sore from it as he clutched the steering wheel and drove into the snowy night, his headlights only barely strong enough to show him the way. A storm was coming, so what he was doing was unequivocally stupid, but he didn't have much choice.
He'd tried a few other things before this. He'd even contacted Jack to ask for Hannibal's home phone number and had called him there at least five times before he'd let his gut make the decision for him.
They'd been searching for this particular killer for the past week already. He had a pattern, one that made him fairly simple to understand. He spent a few days picking out a target, organizing chance meetings with them at innocuous places that they went in their everyday lives.
Then he kidnapped them and took them to a cabin he had far out in the countryside, at least a half hour drive from the nearest town. It had taken them a few days to pinpoint the location, and the idea had been to send a swat team in the next day to apprehend him.
They shouldn't have waited. The killer usually only chose one victim per month, it seemed, but they'd been pushing him, and he knew that they were on his track.
Hannibal hadn't mentioned that he had any interaction with the killer. Maybe he hadn't known, but Will doubted that. But whatever Hannibal had been planning, it clearly hadn't gone the way he'd expected, because Will was convinced that he'd been dragged out to that cabin. If he didn't get him out of there soon, then a friend's blood would be on his hands.
He hadn't even called the rest of the team yet. Will knew it was reckless, but this wasn't something he could wait on. He'd call Jack as soon as he got there, but for the moment he could only focus on one thing, and that was the road ahead of him.
Once he was in the vicinity of the cabin, Will parked (a safe distance away, so Larry Williams wouldn't hear him coming), taking a moment to pop an aspirin and leave a message on Jack's cell phone before he stepped out into the snow, which was getting heavier by the second. He dragged the hood of his jacket up over his head and then carefully approached the house. There was a truck in the driveway, but all the lights were off inside.
Will took a moment to think, his breaths coming out like puffs of steam in the cold air as he sifted through everything he'd learned about this man. He kidnapped people and held them like animals, as if the act of owning them would make them easier to kill. He tried to dehumanize them as much as possible before he slit their throats. So Hannibal wouldn't be put in the house, no...
Will worked his way around to the back of the cabin and found a shed there, which was chained up and fitted with a heavy padlock.
He crouched down in front of it and rapped lightly on it. "Hannibal," he spoke up, as loud as he was willing to when he knew he was in the middle of a killer's lair. His heart was pounding and the hair on the back of his neck was on end, but he needed to do this. "Are you there? Hannibal."
He'd tried a few other things before this. He'd even contacted Jack to ask for Hannibal's home phone number and had called him there at least five times before he'd let his gut make the decision for him.
They'd been searching for this particular killer for the past week already. He had a pattern, one that made him fairly simple to understand. He spent a few days picking out a target, organizing chance meetings with them at innocuous places that they went in their everyday lives.
Then he kidnapped them and took them to a cabin he had far out in the countryside, at least a half hour drive from the nearest town. It had taken them a few days to pinpoint the location, and the idea had been to send a swat team in the next day to apprehend him.
They shouldn't have waited. The killer usually only chose one victim per month, it seemed, but they'd been pushing him, and he knew that they were on his track.
Hannibal hadn't mentioned that he had any interaction with the killer. Maybe he hadn't known, but Will doubted that. But whatever Hannibal had been planning, it clearly hadn't gone the way he'd expected, because Will was convinced that he'd been dragged out to that cabin. If he didn't get him out of there soon, then a friend's blood would be on his hands.
He hadn't even called the rest of the team yet. Will knew it was reckless, but this wasn't something he could wait on. He'd call Jack as soon as he got there, but for the moment he could only focus on one thing, and that was the road ahead of him.
Once he was in the vicinity of the cabin, Will parked (a safe distance away, so Larry Williams wouldn't hear him coming), taking a moment to pop an aspirin and leave a message on Jack's cell phone before he stepped out into the snow, which was getting heavier by the second. He dragged the hood of his jacket up over his head and then carefully approached the house. There was a truck in the driveway, but all the lights were off inside.
Will took a moment to think, his breaths coming out like puffs of steam in the cold air as he sifted through everything he'd learned about this man. He kidnapped people and held them like animals, as if the act of owning them would make them easier to kill. He tried to dehumanize them as much as possible before he slit their throats. So Hannibal wouldn't be put in the house, no...
Will worked his way around to the back of the cabin and found a shed there, which was chained up and fitted with a heavy padlock.
He crouched down in front of it and rapped lightly on it. "Hannibal," he spoke up, as loud as he was willing to when he knew he was in the middle of a killer's lair. His heart was pounding and the hair on the back of his neck was on end, but he needed to do this. "Are you there? Hannibal."