#doneeee!

          Every time that she closed her eyes, Abigail found herself back at Hannibal Lecter's house on that rainy, dark night. It all felt the same to her, the same outcome had come out of it.

              The only different was that it was dark and much more appeared to be hidden. Abigail was under the darkness for so long that she couldn't save herself; death was inevitable. The vicious cycle would only continue if Dr. Lecter stopped it by killing her.

                 Everyone who she had trusted in her life had attempted to kill her apart from Will Graham. The girl had just seen Hannibal gut him even more forcefully that she did Nicholas Boyle and he was the one that tried to stop her bleeding.

                                                             Compassion.

                                    Nothing had changed since her father died; everything remained the same, like it was a cycle she couldn’t escape from. She would always be a killer. Abigail Hobbs was not a victim of others but more a victim of her own persona. She had become detached from herself and didn’t know how to communicate with herself.

                 Abigail had sent Alana Bloom to her death because she was so desperate to solidify the relationship with the man who said he'd look out for her and the only way to do that was to stage her death. That night was a blood bath, everyone was panicked and Abigail couldn't think of anything else to do.

                         She really didn't expect to survive her wound for the second time.

                                Although Abigail pleaded for the Doctor to not kill her, she knew that everyone was better off if she was dead; she wouldn't hurt anyone else and that would be the end of it. All she wanted was the escape the horror show that her life had become.

                  Opening her eyes from her rest, she focused in on a figure at the side of her bed; it was a figure she knew far too well.