Disclaimers: I do not know the rights to Red Dragon. Never will. I do not write fanfiction for profit. I do it for fun. Enjoy.
He knew that he could see things. He always has. He always had an uncanny way of getting into any killers mind. All he needed to see was how the victim died.
He always got scared a the thought of his ability, but he used it well. He knew how to get into the killers mind at where he will go or possibly do next. And he could also perceive the mind of the victim. How he or she ran in fear. Or how the victim was subdued by rope or a chain. Anything.
Sometimes he wondered at night if he would ever become like the killers he goes to catch. He could always dream a nightmare where he would be the killer. The monster who chooses certain or random people just to torture and to kill; playing horrid games with the investigators.
And he would always get caught. By some young blood like him and he would always welcome visits and start talking- like Hannibal.
Hannibal. The man he caught by accident. The man who has continually forced him to remember his fear. The fear that could be the reason he was just like Lecter. Damn, he was getting one step closer to the edge. To an edge he might fall off on.
Man he had for some reason trusted the man. He had trusted a serial killer. But isn't that how things work? The least likely of a suspect is the one you trust or like the most.
He didn't know. He probably never will. He heard from the news that Hannibal has escaped and is gone with an agent called Clarice Starling.
But he didn't care. He was with his family and that was all that mattered.
The phone rang and he answered.
"Hello Will," came a icy yet playful voice.
And that was when he knew the nightmares would begin again. Actually they never stopped.
"Hello, Hannibal," he replied.