𝙶𝙾𝚁𝙴 / 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑

“He’s in the basement. I’ve kept your stitches small.” He wore a black butcher’s apron, his maroon eyes flecked scarlet in the darkness when they aimed her way. A fresh pair of clothes sat on the coffee table away from the blue sterile field in which Hannibal Lecter worked, as meticulous in every aspect of his life as he was about surgery. She would be fine and she would stay bait-pretty for the particular men they hoped to ensnare. “I took the liberty of examining you while you were unconscious.” Involuntarily he looked away from the stitch on her thigh. For Lecter, that was as close as he came to embarrassment. The man had a kind of hooked Spyderco knife. He must have ‘earned’ a living cutting purses with it on the subway. Lecter had kept it. Duller than the Feather brand scalpels he preferred, but it had been loved once, almost as much as the schoolgirl’s she’d been dressed as.

“I will give you privacy to change. Unfortunately, we’ve gone through all of your comfort clothing. I know how you love your dull hoodies and sweatpants… But you’ll have to make due with that costume until I can get all the blood out of your laundry. Some of it, this time, is yours.”

He gathered everything up and did as he said, gave her privacy and started pre-soaking her clothes. The sounds of the washing machine going in the basement.

for  a  moment  she  almost  panics.  she  hated  every  aspect  of  her  transformation  ⸻  the  power  was  never  worth  it.  she  is  confused  and  wary  of  her  surroundings.  yes,  she  trusts  this  man  who  never  had  to  say  much.  leona  gently  pushes  herself  up  (  fast  enough  that  her  head  spins  )  hearing  the  word  "Examine"  naturally  forces  her  arms  to  enclose  against  her  form.  she  can  taste  the  iron  between  her  teeth.  crimson  aftertaste.  not  so  nice.  

she  isn't  ignoring  him  yet  everything  he  says  fails  to  register  in  her  mind.  gently  pushing  past  the  kitchen  with  a  minor  limp  she  manages  to  open  the  sliding  door.  a  huff  escapes  her  lips  as  she  manages  to  stretch  to  grab  a  towel.  saying  nothing  the  door  opens  and  soon  behind  her.  

the  water  is  cold  (  her  toe  rests  on  the  top  step  of  the  abandoned  pool  )  it  was  a  miracle  to  see  how  it  remained  so  clean.  she  can  feel  the  panic.  all  fabric  around  her  form  is  aggressively  ripped  from  it    "why  can't  I  remember  anything?"  a  mutter  escapes  bloody  lips.  moving  into  the  water  of  the  abandoned  spa  she  begins  to  scrub.  soft  gasps  escape  her  as  her  nails  dig  into  flesh.  

this  was  a  fate  she  never  asked  for  ⸻  yet,  cursed  and  damned  by  creatures  many  others  couldn't  see.  she  dunks  her  head  into  the  water  for  a  moment.  the  darkness  gathers  around  her  while  water  consumes  her.  leona  had  been  reminded  of  her  childhood  (  the  wild  "outbursts"  no  one  could  understand  )  only  it  was  the  monsters  she  could  see  that  would  provoke  her.  it  was  a  difficult  life.  one  that  constantly  threatened  to  swallow  her  whole.  

gently  pushing  to  the  surface  it  was  apparent  that  she  still  had  a  situation  to  deal  with.  her  recent  wound  stings  against  the  cold  water.  moving  to  the  stairs  and  allowing  the  towel  to  take  form  she  slowly  opens  the  door  before  returning  to  the  warm  living  room. 

an  emerald  green  dressing  gown  rests  (  and  oversized  )  on  her  form.  a  giant  "D.E"  is  woven  into  the  top  pocket.  it  was  her  grandfathers.  it  smelt  just  as  old.  she  offers  the  doctor  a  miserable  look.  she  didn't  know  where  to  begin.  taking  a  deep  breath  in  front  of  him  she  adjusts  her  body  to  stand  straight  and  remain  cold.  "what  do  you  mean  he's  downstairs?"  eyes  blink  while  her  neck  stretches  as  the  direction  of  her  chin  moves  to  the  side.  however,  that  stare  remains  center  on  the  man.