Glazmind

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65634292

In Greek mythology, Limos is the personification of famine or hunger.

“I want Dr. Chilton.” The knife paused in midair just long enough for Hannibal to take a deep breath. He set the blade down on the board, wiped it slowly, then arranged all the heart slices like the petals of a crimson flower. “Finally.” He savored the word like a rare Barolo. His voice was low, more intimate than a whisper. The amber light in the kitchen outlined Hannibal’s profile, leaving his eyes nearly black. Then, he crossed the short distance to the wheelchair and knelt down, meeting Will’s eyes. Will’s heart pounded so hard it ached in his chest. In that instant, he realized he hadn’t just surrendered a name, but his self-control, and it gave him a delicious vertigo. “Tell me, Will. How would you like to kill him?” Will hesitated, but didn’t look away. “With my hands.” “For mercy?” “For intimacy.”

"Hannibal tied a knot on the final stitch at the corner of the man's mouth, and he thrashed in panic and confusion. Each time he tried to open his mouth, the thread sliced deeper into his flesh, causing more blood to mingle with the salt of his tears. Hannibal paid it no mind and turned to Will, as if awaiting his approval. Will was breathing solely through his nose, seemingly incapable of parting his lips. He trembled and wept just as much as the stranger beside him, like a mirror reflecting sensation and emotion. The difference, Hannibal noted, was the slight erection between Will’s thighs. Once again, he felt a rising admiration for the sadistic mind Graham tried so hard to suppress."

"Delicious,” he whispered, voice thick with restrained emotion. Still groggy, Will looked at him with hazy eyes, not fully understanding, though a sudden flush rose to his pale cheeks. Maybe he did understand, maybe his body knew it was being consumed, savored, adored. His right hand felt leaden as he lifted it to the plate, pinching a moist piece of meat between his fingers. He needed to feel more. He offered it to Hannibal’s lips and watched reverence twist into lust. Perhaps he didn’t realize, but offering his own flesh was the ultimate acceptance. The doctor leaned in, took the morsel, gripped Will’s wrist, and licked the blood from his fingers before chewing.

“You’ve killed for me,” Will murmured, voice hoarse. “You sculpted nightmares from blood and bone, all to sear your name into my mind.” “To offer you understanding,” Hannibal replied, as though correcting him gently. “The world has been unkind to you, Will. It saw your gift as illness. It demanded control, change. I only ever offered you freedom.” “That’s not freedom,” he snapped, swallowing down the acidic aftertaste. “That’s possession.” “Possession can be sacred. In many cultures, the divine possessed their chosen through visions, ecstasy, suffering. You’re not unfamiliar with this idea. In your dream, you invoked Dante, didn’t you? It was a rite of passage. You met your guide. Your Virgil. You kissed it. You kissed me, Will.”

⠀

“She was alive, yes, but I assure you: she didn’t suffer. That’s why you might even mistake her meat for lamb.” Hannibal said it knowing Will’s vivid imagination would do the rest. Will’s breathing turned short, ragged. The room began to spin from the lack of oxygen. His heart pounded so fast it seemed ready to stop. He leaned forward to spit the meat out, but two long fingers invaded his mouth, pushing it back down his throat. Another hand gripped his hair, yanking it back violently to clear the passage. Head tilted, staring up at Hannibal, Will’s teary eyes pleaded for mercy—none came. “You must know I don’t tolerate waste, my dear.”

⠀

Held captive by a meticulous sociopath, Will becomes an unholy experiment: his mind dissected, rearranged, and twisted beyond recognition. How long before the man collapses… and the monster completes his becoming?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65681914

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65622415/chapters/168962956