#twistedminds

MEAT TRUCK - DAY-

Twin rows of GUTTED PIG CARCASSES hang in plastic wrapping from a rail in the roof of the darkened space. The TICK and HUM of refrigeration can be heard in the metal box.

A sudden CLANG as the door is opened and a gust of frosted air is expelled into the dark space beyond -- unclear behind the beams of a powerful light. A WHIRRING noise can be heard.

Will is actually HANGING UPSIDE DOWN like the carcasses, Hannibal alongside him, similarly trussed. The WHIRRING continues and the carcasses swing sideways as a silhouetted shape moves through them to reveal – MASON VERGER In his electric wheelchair, looking at them both with great satisfaction.

Cordell behind him. A beatific smile. “Gentlemen, welcome to Muskrat Farm.”

“Your people might have assassinated me in Florence, Mason.”

“Where's the fun in that?”

“I see the first coarse bristles of revenge have brushed the ruin of your cheek and begun to excite you. Where’s Y/N, Mason?”

“I'm very excited. She’ll be joining us… though i doubt she’ll be very comfortable.” Mason produces a KNIFE in his good hand.

“I still carry my father's knife. Ever ready to slip into a pig's back to check the depth of fat.”

Mason slides close to Hannibal and presses the blade against the flesh of his lower back. Hannibal does not flinch. Mason puts his thumb against the blade and slides it into Hannibal.  A thin TRICKLE of blood is released. Hannibal shows no sign.  Disappointed, Mason slides the blade further. “A little on the lean side. Let's fatten you up, shall we?”

MUSKRAT FARM - PIG BARN - DAY-

The meat truck has been backed through the doors into the narrow end of a funnel made by two angled rows of STEEL PIGPENS. PIGS snort nervously in the pens, clanging the bars. Mason Verger, in his wheelchair, and Cordell watch as Inspector Benetti leads bodyguards bringing Hannibal and Will from the truck, bound securely to a pair of handcarts. Will's head is cleaned up and bandaged. But he is still groggy and in pain.

“It is more trouble physically to move a semi-wild pig against its will than to kidnap a man.”

“Pigs are harder to get hold of, and big ones are stronger than a man.” As Hannibal and Will are wheeled past, Mason speaks up for their benefit and his amusement: “There are the tusks to consider, if you want to maintain the integrity of your abdomen. Something worth maintaining, Mr. Graham? Tusked beasts instinctively disembowel.” 

Will's and Hannibal's handcarts are shackled to the walls. Mason wheels closer to Hannibal, cocking his head up. “At swine fairs, I've seen exotic pigs from all over the world. For my new purpose, you are the best of all that I've seen. We will have some good, funny times, Dr. Lecter.” 

As Mason wheels away, leaving Will and Hannibal Wondering…Where is Y/N?

VERGER ESTATE HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT-

Hannibal is wheeled up to the table and his upright dolly automatically folds into a seated wheelchair at one end of the table. Hannibal is sitting secured in his seat with one arm free.

Hannibal is resplendent in suit and tie. Looking very much his old self sitting opposite Mason Verger at the other end. “I snatched Will Graham right out of your mouth. You must be famished.” A BEAUTIFUL TRAY OF OYSTERS Cordell has just placed them onto the table. Hannibal glances at the mollusks before looking back up at Mason.

“There is an inescapable parallel between you and Jezebel, Mason. Keen Bible student that you are, you'll recall dogs ate Jezebel's face, along with the rest of her.” Hannibal slides an oyster into his mouth with his free hand.

“If Jezebel was right with the Risen Jesus, if she praised His name, the Riz would have provided her a new face. As He has provided mine.” Will sitting between Mason and Hannibal, bright new head bandage. Y/N glaring sinisterly at Mason. Mason glances at Will: “The transplant surgery is extremely skillful, which is why Cordell here will be performing the face-off.”

“Hello.”

“You boys remind me of that German cannibal who advertised for a friend, then ate the friend's penis with him before he died. Tragedy being, the penis was overcooked. Go to all that trouble to eat a friend, and you overcook his penis. They ate it anyway. They had to, they committed. But they didn't enjoy it. I'm committed to enjoying every bite of you.” Will looks to Mason: “You're gonna eat him with my face?”

“Yes. I got a taste for it after the two of you had me eat my nose.”

“You must be terribly proud that you could pull this off, Mason.” I say as I groan in pain. “An accomplishment comparable to the discovery of radium. I imagine you, the product of all my searching and expenditure, glowing in the dark like the vial in Madame Curie's laboratory. I imagine after eating you, my belly will glow like a lightbulb.”

“It's dangerous to get exactly what you want, Mason. What will you do after you've eaten me?” Will glares, “You could wreck some foster homes and torment some children…”

“Drink martinis made with tears. And that little fetus in your Belly Dr. L/N, Well I have promised my sister a baby and- I don't like breaking promises.” Mason looks towards me, My heart drops. No. He wont touch her. I wont let him. I look over at Will, tears of rage fill my eyes. As another contraction rolls through my body. Will has a very dark and sinister look on his face. 

“But where, Mason, would the hardcore fun come from?”

“Foolish to dilute this ecstatic time with fears about the future. Cordell, Mr. Graham is looking very dry. A little moisturizer, please.” Mason taps his own cheek, indicating where to apply the moisturizer on Will, as he resumes the conversation.

“I'm curious, what will be the first cuts of me you'll serve?” Hannibal asks As Cordell is preparing the moisturizer, “The first course, of course, will be your hands and feet. Sizzling on a Promethean barbecue. The coal is white and very hard, makes a clear ringing sound when struck.”

“You've thought of everything.”

“After that, we'll have a pajama party, you and I. You can wear shorties by then. Cordell's going to keep you alive for a long time.” As Cordell leans in to apply Will's moisturizer, Will's head jerks up, fast, and he LOCKS HIS TEETH into Cordell's cheek.

Cordell growls, pushing a bloody-mawed Will off of him. Will spits a ragged piece of skin onto Mason's empty plate, where it leaves a RED SMEAR and lies like an insult. Cordell clutches a bloody cheek. Hannibal holds Will's gaze, amused. I look at him, if i wasnt in so much pain I’d Kill….

“No pajama party for you, Mr. Graham. We'll be feeding you to the pigs as soon as Cordell removes your face. In a much more civilized fashion than you just tried to remove his.”

VERGER ESTATE HOUSE - MASON'S BEDROOM - NIGHT-

Margot Verger is helping Mason out of bed, where he's been changed into medical pajamas, and into his wheelchair. “When I impulsively lash out, on the whole, I don't lash out randomly. I throw a very specific sort of fit.”

“You're nothing if not specific.” Mason stares at the eel swimming in the floor below his twisted feet propped in the stirrups of his wheelchair.

“I think I might feed the eel some delicacy from Lecter; his genitals, perhaps. Then when I watch it circling in a figure eight, I'll know the infinity sign it makes stands for "Lecter dead forever." How long have you and Dr. Bloom been an item?” The question gives Margot pause, but she doesn't want to betray any vulnerability to her brother. “Not long.”

“Longer than that, Cordell says. Does Dr. Bloom want children? I'm sure you've checked under the hood by now. How's the uterus? Intact? Are the hips childbearing? Roomy?”

“Land the plane, Mason.” Margot stops helping and Mason just lies there, helpless. “You have a big surprise coming to you, Margot. Do you like spoilers? I just love 'em. They don't spoil a thing for me. Would it spoil anything for you if I told you I already found us a surrogate? Not for my sperm, but for your eggs.”

“I don't have any. You took them.”

“I most certainly did, but I didn't humpty-dumpty them. I just went and found them a new basket.” Margot stares, afraid to believe him, wanting to believe him. “I told you I wanted to give you a Verger baby, our own baby. Yours and mine. But mostly yours.” Margot's voice goes cold, not to give her brother any leverage. “Where's the surrogate, Mason?”

“She's resting at the moment. Though if she fails I have a much more immediate solution.”

“She's here?” “She's on the farm.”

“I want to see her.”

First you need to prepare yourself... psychologically. This is going to be a very emotional experience for you. I have to think about the appropriate timing.”

“Don't think too long, smiley.”

“That's the spirit, Margot. Your maternal instinct is revving up.”

VERGER ESTATE HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT-

Will Graham sits alone at the table, blood still smeared across his lips and chin. A moment, then Alana Bloom enters. Will glances up and reacts, not expecting her. His initial fear for her safety melts into something more like suspicion. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm Mason Verger's psychiatrist.” A small scoff from Will, nothing but breath. “That part of his therapy or yours?”

“I think we're all working through some issues. I'm putting an emphasis on self-preservation. Jack's alive.”

“Good for Jack. You helped Mason Verger find us.”

“I helped Mason find Hannibal. We followed Bâtard-Montrachet when we should have just followed you.”

“Almost as ugly as what Mason wants to do to us is the fact that he can do it with the tacit agreement of people sworn to uphold the law. He's planning on ripping my Daughter out of Y/N’s Womb.” Will says darkly, oh how he wished he could be with his Y/N. “It's the way of the world.”

“I never knew the world to be that way within the reach of your arm. For the first time in my life I’m Terrified.”

“I was trying to get to Hannibal before you. I knew you couldn't stop yourself. So I had to try.”

“By facilitating torture and death.”

“I can abide the thought of Hannibal tortured, not necessarily to death. I'd say he has it coming, wouldn't you? Or maybe you wouldn't. By the time the FBI gets a warrant, you and any evidence of what happened would be burnt or roiling in the bowels of Mason's pigs.”

“Or Mason himself. What did you think would happen?”

“I thought Jack Crawford and the FBI would come to the rescue. But the Finer details of what I thought would happen have evolved.”

“Then you have to evolve, Alana. You have to spill blood. By your own hand or someone else's.” Cordell enters, approaching Will in his wheelchair. “We're ready for you, Mr. Graham. You’re Fiancee is already sedated and prepped. Please keep your teeth to yourself.” Alana watching Cordell wheel Will away...

MUSKRAT FARM - PIG BARN - NIGHT-

past one pig in a cage after another, until finding Hannibal bound in his own pigpen, the brand burn stands raw and livid on his back, his arms and legs bound in the cage. He glances over his shoulder at an ITALIAN COP near the door, a tranquilizer gun on the table beside him. Margot enters.

“Buonasera, signor.”

“Buonasera, Signorina Verger.” Margot takes a breath and approaches Hannibal in his pen. “Thank you for coming, Margot. Hasn't been that long since I treated you. Have you started taking the chocolate, as Mason likes to say, after you fought him for so long?”

“Are we in therapy now?”

“You tell me.”

“Mason promised to give something back to me. Something he stole. There was a surrogate all along. It's a Verger baby. My baby.”

“You think Mason will just give you what he promised?”

“It's here. On the farm.”

“He’s about to tear a newborn away from a mother who never consented. I can imagine lots of ways to be a Verger baby that are unpleasant. I'm sure your brother can, too. Especially for a baby thats not a Verger.” Margot's eyes brim with tears as her face goes still. She knows Hannibal is telling the truth. “Listen to me, Margot. Mason will deny you. He will always deny you. You know you'll have to kill him.”

“Are you saying you'd do it for me? I could never trust you.”

“No, of course not. But you could trust me never to deny that I did it. It would actually be more therapeutic for you to kill him yourself, Margot. You'll remember I recommended that in session.”

“Wait until I can get away with it, you said.”

“What difference would one more murder charge make to me? I'm the only other suspect you've got. You can do it when it suits you, and I'll write a letter gloating about how I enjoyed killing him myself.” As Margot considers his offer… Sitting by the door. Alana enters carrying a smart handbag. She approaches, smiling.

“Buonasera.” He stands to greet her, she places her handbag on the table and, in one movement, picks up the tranquilizer gun and shoots the Italian cop in the throat, and he drops. Margot stares, dumbstruck.

“He has a pocketknife.” Alana retrieves the pocketknife from the unconscious Italian cop and crosses to Hannibal in his pigpen.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Yes. I thought I could save Will and Y/N from you, but right now, you're the only one who can save Them. Promise me you'll save them. Please.”

“I promise, Alana. And I always keep my promises. Just cut the ropes on one arm, give me the knife and leave. I can do the rest.” Alana gets uncomfortably close to Hannibal, their faces very close to each other. Alana puts the blade on the rope. “Are you going to kill Mason?”

“Margot is. Snatch some of my hair, back from the hairline, if you don't mind; get some skin. Put it in Mason's hand after he's dead.” They are close enough to kiss. Alana looks into his eyes.

“Could I have ever understood you?”

“No.” Her hand slides into his hair -- and then pulls his head VICIOUSLY to one side. as hair tears from Hannibal's scalp. In the same moment, Alana slashes a knife at the cable ties used to bind him. He rises out of the pigpen -- the Kraken awoken.

VERGER ESTATE HOUSE - CORRIDOR - NIGHT-

OPERA plays. CAMERA follows the blood spray back to its source – A BODYGUARD falling backward, his throat cut. the glint of a blood-flecked BLADE wielded by –   Hannibal Who is already moving on to the second of THREE BODYGUARDS he has ambushed. He wears the clothes of the man Alana shot with the tranquilizer gun. Second bodyguard is drawing a HANDGUN from beneath his jacket. ON HIS FACE as he realizes he is too slow.

Hannibal smashes the CLAW HAMMER in his other hand into the second bodyguard's chest. He coughs blood. The gun falls from his hand as Hannibal slams him against the wall and then ducks to the ground as --

BLAM, BLAM, BLAM. The third bodyguard fires. Bullets stitch holes in the wall. Hannibal pulls his hammer from the second bodyguard with a SUCKING SQUELCH. BLAM, BLAM. Hannibal rolls under the line of fire and slams the third bodyguard THROUGH THE FOOT with the hammer.

Third bodyguard SCREAMS and tries to bring his gun to bear on Hannibal, now right below him, but Hannibal holds his wrist. A moment, and then Hannibal rips a KNIFE across the third bodyguard's abdomen. Third bodyguard sways before Hannibal – dead, just doesn’t know it yet -- as Hannibal stands up.

Hannibal reacts as doors SLAM and TWO MORE BODYGUARDS come charging into the corridor, guns drawn. Lightning fast, Hannibal hurls the bloody hammer. THE HAMMER as it spins in the air, blood trailing from it, and then -- THUNK -- it strikes one of the new arrivals, spinning him to one side. Hannibal then spins the third bodyguard and drives toward them.

BLAM, BLAM, BLAM. Bullets drive into the third bodyguard, Hannibal hidden behind him. Third bodyguard rag-dolls in Hannibal’s arms as the bullets explode into his torso. fourth bodyguard's fear as Hannibal meets them in the center of the corridor and slams third bodyguard’s face right into his.

 Fourth bodyguard flies backward, nose SPRAYING BLOOD, and tangles with the fifth bodyguard. the knife in Hannibal’s hand, as it FLASHES amid the fourth and fifth bodyguards. Blood splashes the walls.

TWO MORE BODYGUARDS -- six and seven. As they enter the corridor and pause. Guns in their hands.

The bloodbath that is the corridor -- six bloodied bodies splashed up and down the walls. GUN SMOKE hangs in the air. Blood DRIPS down the walls. Six and seven breathe deep. Tense. Guns at the ready.

 They move forward... Stepping through the bodies. their shoes as they move through the carnage. Nothing moves except for the blood sliding down the walls. Six and seven move away toward the end of the corridor. And then a bloodied figure rises from the floor

VERGER ESTATE HOUSE - OPERATING ROOM - NIGHT-

He is strapped to a gurney under the bright light of an OR, his head in a surgical vice holding him absolutely still. A shadow falls across Will's face as Cordell leans over him. “Good news and bad news. The good news is, until recently, a full face transplant was almost unthinkable.” Cordell fusses around Will, checking his monitors. Whatever else, he's a perfectionist at this.

“But medical science is a fast-moving train. First, I'll lift your pretty mush right off, and then I'll expose the blood vessels and major connections of Mason's face, then lay yours straight on top.” 

The full horror of that lands on Will. “You really are done, you know. That's the bad news. Although i will grant you one thing.” Cordell moves away, leaving Will strapped to the gurney. 

Cordell brings over a small bundle, a baby. His baby. “You have a beautiful baby daughter Mr. Graham.” Will's eyes move to His baby girl. He struggles to move his limbs. Nothing doing. We see the first panic in Will's eyes.

 MUSKRAT FARM - NIGHT-

An open doorway filled with DARKNESS. A blood-splattered Hannibal looms from within to fill it. The open fields and woodland of Muskrat Farm beyond. The huge moon hanging above and a myriad of stars. Freedom. 

He could run and no one would catch him. Leave Will and be free. The thought crosses his mind. But Y/N….She didn't deserve to suffer. He takes a deep breath of night air. And then he turns back into the house, and the shadows within envelope him once more…

VERGER ESTATE HOUSE - OPERATING ROOM - NIGHT-

Will Graham turns his head slowly sideways as Mason Verger is pushed in beside Will, on a gurney, by Cordell

“Cordell told me, if I waited long enough, he could grow me a new face from my own cells, but I was adamant it was your face I wanted. I was looking at your face while you were watching me cut mine off. I thought, "That's a nice face." and Now your Baby will see the face of Her father everyday of her life.”

“You're going under now, Mr. Verger, and when you wake up, your face will be bound and uncomfortable.” Cordell adjusts Mason's dosage and Mason begins to drift off: “Have you accepted Jesus, Mr. Graham? Do you have faith? I do. I'm free. Hallelujah…” And he's out. a needle enters Will's flesh. Cordell adjusts the IV bottle it's connected to. 

“This will immobilize your body, but you'll feel everything. Im first going to Finish sewing up your Fiancee and then I'm going to cut off your face without anesthesia, Mr. Graham.”

VERGER ESTATE HOUSE - BABY SUITE - NIGHT-

Alana and Margot move into a tiled room with a lot of hightech medical equipment. They both stop dead and stare. In the center of the room is a large table. On top, lying on its side, is a large, unconscious FEMALE PIG with IV lines and drips filtering into it, medical monitors BLEEPING quietly… The pig's belly is SWOLLEN by a pregnancy. 

Alana and Margot move around this bizarre sight. As they do, a MONITOR mounted on the wall comes into vision – AN ULTRASOUND IMAGE in grays and blacks. It shows a human fetus, almost full term, legs tucked up… Alana and Margot stare -- stunned.

“Is he alive?” Alana reacts first, moves to check the monitors. Her face falls. “There's no fetal heartbeat.” As this lands on Margot... “Take it out... take it out.”

VERGER ESTATE HOUSE - OPERATING ROOM - NIGHT-

Mason Verger, face mask off to reveal his hideous, mutilated visage, lies back, eyes closed, awaiting his new face.

Cordell's back, to find that he is hunched over Will Graham. Fully conscious as Cordell leans over him and finishes drawing a black line in marker around the line of Will's face and jaw. He leans into Will with a SCALPEL.

“You'll be sure to let me know if this hurts, won't you?”

He starts to cut around the marker line. Blood slides from the pencil-thin incision. FEELING EVERYTHING -- teeth clenched against the pain he knows is coming… -- A SCALPEL slides through skin. -- A delicate thin flow of BLOOD. -- HANDS, in surgical gloves, gently lever skin away from facial bones, revealing teeth and jaw beneath -- a face coming away from its moorings.

We are watching two interconnected operations: a face being removed and a face being sewn onto someone else. And now we add a third procedure to the mix, this one rough and violent in comparison --

the sudden BIG INCISION of a CAESARIAN SECTION across a pig's hairy belly. TIGHT FOCUS as a LAYER OF BLOODY SKIN is laid down over Mason's raw, waiting face, smearing blood where it touches.

Hands delve deep into the pig's belly, surgical gloves slick with blood. The CLOSE-UP gleam of a suture needle as it moves under bright lights, stitching the new face to Mason. Beyond, we can just make out the bloody red mess of the donor's face.

VERGER ESTATE HOUSE - BABY SUITE - NIGHT-

Margot's desperate face as she forces herself to look at Alana holding her dead child.

“I want to hold him.”

She slowly takes the bundle Alana holds out to her as Alana wraps her arms around Margot as she sobs. MARGOT -- focus moving in and around her face. Enormity of her grief slamming into her. HER EYES as she squeezes them shut, holding her child tight.

VERGER ESTATE HOUSE - MASON'S BEDROOM - NIGHT-

Mason is propped up in his wheelchair, the eel moving its ceaseless patterns in the floor. We hear Mason's voice, weak at first: “Cordell?” Croaking, a whisper. Then louder: “Cordell? Cordell?!” His senses are going off, pain hitting him, fear and dread. Something is not right. His hand pumps at an ALARM BUTTON on the arm of his wheelchair. His good hand crab-walks up his chest, pulls the neck piece away. 

the mask as it is pulled away from Mason's face, not yet revealing his surgery. He grabs the mirror and holds it up. He sees that he now IS Cordell... kind of. Cordell's face has been removed and placed over his own. As Mason stares at himself in horror, Cordell's face slides off his own, leaving smears of blood before it lands on Mason's lap. “Cordell!”

Mason's good hand fumbles with the knob, pulling the drawer open, revealing a Walther PPK. He turns his wheelchair and rounds the bed toward the door and stops short at the aquarium when he sees Alana enter. “Hi, Mason.”

“What the hell's happening out there? Where's Cordell?”

“Cordell's dead. They're all dead out there. Hannibal got away.” Margot emerges from the shadows behind Mason. “Get on the horn to Washington and get four of those bastards with guns up here. Send the helicopter.”

“I found your surrogate, Mason.”

“Your surrogate, Margot. Told you I Would give you a Verger baby.”

“I'm taking what you promised me. I got everything I need from you now.”

“You can't kill me, Margot. You'll lose everything. In the absence of an heir, the sole beneficiary is the Southern Baptist Church."

“But we are going to have an heir, Mason. A Verger baby. Our baby. Yours and mine, but mainly yours.”

“Do you know what happens if we stimulate your prostate gland with a cattle prod? Y/N and Hannibal do. They helped us milk you. Maybe you shouldnt try and steal a mothers child.”

“You're dead, Dr. Bloom.”

“Oh, Mason. We all are. Didn't you know? But these aren't.” She holds up a vial of a pearly, cloudy fluid. Mason produces his pistol. Margot sees it and moves first. Crashing into Mason as he fires.

BLAM! The aquarium's glass top SHATTERS! Margot's momentum carries the wheelchair onto its side and she and Mason fall into the aquarium.

Margot and Mason fight. His goodarm pinning her under the  water. His body is dead weight against her. her swirling hair, their SILENT SCREAMS. Alana joins Margot wrestling Mason. As the two HUMAN FACES plunge down into the water. Mason's face sending blood out like a mist.

 ALANA rushes to help Margot. Grabbing at Mason. as she comes out of the water with a GREAT GASP. She holds Alana's gaze and they bear down with relentless force. Mason's hands claw at their hair. The two women hold him down.

Cordell's transplanted face undulates in the water, blood flowing from beneath it. The eel agitates within its lair. Alana's eyes lock with Margot's. SLAM -- the eel comes up and bites at the bloody wounds holding Cordell's face to Mason's... Mason SCREAMS and swallows water as the eel tears at Cordell's face.

As it comes free, the eel thrusts itself beyond, into Mason's open mouth, seeking softer meat. Cordell's bitten and torn face -- backlit -- as it slowly sinks to the bottom of the tank. still holding Mason's good hand. She reaches into a pocket and pulls out the HANK OF HANNIBAL'S HAIR. Presses it into Mason's palm…

MUSKRAT FARM - FOREST'S EDGE - NIGHT-

Of green grass in the dark. see the moon and the stars above the field. We CRANE DOWN to find Hannibal Lecter carrying a bloody and barely-conscious Will Graham over his shoulder as he walks toward the forest's edge Where Y/N and Her daughter await. 

Out of the shadows behind Hannibal, two Verger bodyguards appear. Moving swiftly upon him, raising their RIFLES to fire – the two bodyguards looming on either shoulder. PFFT! PFFT! Both of their heads fly backward as a red mist EXPLODES from them and they crumple to the ground.

CHIYOH In the bough of a large tree, looking down the sights of her hunting rifle. Hannibal Lecter now fixed firmly in her sights…

GRAHAM/L/N HOUSE - DUSK -

Chiyoh stands on the porch alone, her rifle resting in the crook of her arm. After a contemplative moment, Hannibal emerges through the front door.

“Will you go home? Can you go home?”

“No more than you can.”

“We all form frameworks from our early experiences through which later perceptions are understood.”

“Perceptions are understood when you look harder. I've looked into you. I thought you should be caged.”

“Would you watch over me?”

“I will watch over you. Not in a cage. Some beasts shouldn't be caged.”

“Your obsessive and successful hunt, whose plight was it driven by? Mine? Y/N L/N’s? Will Graham's? Yours?”

“Mischa's. Did you eat her?”

“Yes, but I did not kill her.” Chiyoh breathes a sigh of relief. “One quality in a person doesn't rule out any other quality. They can exist side by side, good and terrible. Socrates said it better The best of you and the worst with steady hands and a slow heart.”

“The most stable elements, Chiyoh, appear in the middle of the periodic table, roughly between iron and silver. Between iron and silver. I think that is appropriate for you.” Chiyoh studying Hannibal, not taking her guard down.

GRAHAM/L/N HOUSE - DUSK-

Will Graham sits up in bed. His head stitched to match the neat, expert black sutures following his jawline. He glances at the chair near his bed, a writing pad on the seat. It's filled with symbols and signs of astro- and particle physics. Hannibal enters and Will hands him his writing pad. “Do we talk about teacups and time and the rules of disorder?”

“The teacup is broken. It'll never gather itself back together again.”

“Not even in your mind? Your memory palace is building. It's full of new things. It shares some rooms with my own. I've discovered you there. Victorious.”

“When it comes to you and me, there can be no decisive victory.”

“We are a zero-sum game?” Will takes that in, considering his home and the strangeness

of Hannibal Lecter standing in it now. His Fiancee and newborn daughter in the other room.

“I miss my dogs. I'm not going to miss you. I'm not going to find you. I'm not going to look for

you. I don't want to know where you are or what you do. I don't want to think about you anymore.” The cold, even flatness of Will's words strikes Hannibal. “You delight in wickedness and then berate yourself for the delight.”

“You delight. I tolerate.” A sting of rejection. “Tolerance is a fig leaf to hide your ravenous self from the world.”

“I don't have your appetite. Good-bye, Hannibal.” Hannibal stands there a moment, rejected. Will sighs and averts his eyes. Hannibal finally goes, leaving Will alone. 

GRAHAM/L/N HOUSE - BEDROOM - DUSK -

Hannibal enters the room to say goodbye to Y/N. A woman who truly matched himself. He finds her sitting on her and Wills shared bed, rocking the small infant in her arms. “You’ve done well. She’s beautiful.” He approaches and sits beside her. 

I rest my head on his shoulder, I admire my daughter. A creation of my own. A sense of solemness runs over me. “You’re leaving arent you?” I ask, already knowing the answer. “Will has made it clear he does not want me here any longer.” 

A stray tear falls, I sniffle softly. “Right..” He pushes my hair out of my face, “Come with me.”

I look at him, “I can’t-” He nods already knowing. “I know.” He softly kisses me, its not passionate or Sexual, its a goodbye. He leans down and Kisses Brianna’s Head. “You’re a very special girl mažasis drugelis. You’re Mother and Father are very special too.” He stands and kisses my forehead and leaves. 

GRAHAM/L/N HOUSE - NIGHT

FBI VEHICLES drive at speed toward the house and AGENTS jump out. They move toward the house, guns out and ready.

The front door opens and Will emerges Holding his Baby daughter. Something he thought hed never get to do, JACK CRAWFORD Steps out of the lead vehicle, on crutches. “He's gone, Jack.”

“I'm here.” He steps out of the trees, arms outstretched, almost welcoming. Agents move in, yelling commands. He kneels as the FBI agents surround him. 

All eyes turn to me as I exit my house, Limping, I place the handcuffs on Hannibal. And before I pull away I whisper “Thank you.” 

CHIYOH watches through her rifle scope from the distant tree line, her sights on Hannibal. Jack moves to Hannibal, Will staying on the porch, watching. “You finally caught the Chesapeake Ripper, Jack.”

“Didn't catch you, you surrendered.”

“I want you to know exactly where I am. And where you can find me.” A sly glance toward Will watching from the porch, Cradling his Daughter, Brianna. 

Hannibal: Are you a painting? Y/N: What-? Hannibal: Because I want to pin you to a wall. Will: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG THEM OR SOMETHING-

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Y/N: Will, I’m afraid. Will: Just stay close to Hannibal. Y/N: That's why I’m afraid.

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Y/N: Hi, sorry I’m late. I was doing a couple of things and got distracted. Hannibal: I’m “a couple of things”. Will: I’m “got distracted”.

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Y/N: I like your top, Will! Hannibal: I have a name, you know. Will: sighs Why. Why are you like this.

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Hannibal: So, what is Y/N to you? Alana: The reason I wake up every morning. Hannibal: …That’s adorable. Y/N earlier that morning, barging into Alana′s room, smacking pans together: WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!!!

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Jack: Who do we know that has handcuffs? Y/N: Well Will, Hannibal and I- Will: elbows Y/N Y/N: …wouldn't know. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N: Everytime I hear someone talking about updog, I’m torn between not wanting to fall for it and wanting to help them complete their joke.

Will: Okay, but what is updog? Hannibal: Updog is a long sausage in a bun, often served with ketchup, mustard, onions, and/or relish. Jack: Not, that’s a hot dog. An updog is when a new version or patch of an application is released. Alana: No, that's an update. You’re thinking of the fourth largest city in Sweden. Abigail: Surely, that’s Uppsala, where’s updog is the giant spider in Harry Potter. Y/N: That’s Aragog. Updog is a symbol conventionally used for an arbitrarily small number in analysis proofs. Jack: You’re thinking of epsilon. Updog is an upward-moving air current. Hannibal: No, that’s an updraft. An updog is the modern version of a henway. Will: What’s a henway?? Y/N: Oh, about five pounds.

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Y/N: Dumbest scar stories, go! Will: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Hannibal: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it. Jack: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. Alana: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn. Abigail: Abigail: I have emotional scars. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat? Will: >:O language Hannibal: Yeah watch your fucking language Jack: OKAY WHO TAUGHT HANNIBAL THE FUCK WORD? Alana: 'The fuck word'. Abigail: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time Hannibal: Oh my god they censored it Alana: Say fuck, Abigail. Hannibal: Do it, Abigail. Say fuck. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N: We need to distract these guys Will: Leave it to me Will: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. Hannibal, Jack, and Alana: Immediately begin arguing Abigail, watching in horror: Oh this. I don’t like this. I don't like this at all ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N: WHY. why did you give Hannibal a KNIFE?! Will: I’m sorry. They said they felt unsafe. Y/N: Now I feel unsafe! Will: I’m sorry. Will: ... would you like a knife? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him Will: You did WHAT– Hannibal: William Snakepeare ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me. Will: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you? Y/N: Yes! Hannibal: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Prologue

Act 1-

Chapter One: Aperitif

Chapter Two: Amuse-Bouche

Chapter Three: Potage

Chapter Four: Ouef

Chapter Five: Coquilles

Chapter Six: Entree

Chapter Seven: Sorbet

Chapter Eight: Fromage

Chapter Nine: Trou-Normand

Chapter Ten: Buffet-Froid

Chapter Eleven: Roti

Chapter Twelve: Releves

Chapter Thirteen: Savouruex (Act 1 Finale)

Act 2-

Chapter Fourteen: Kaiseki

Chapter Fifteen: Sakizuke

Chapter Sixteen: Hassun

Chapter Seventeen: Takiwase

Chapter Eighteen: Mukozuke

Chapter Nineteen: Futamono Chapter Twenty: Yakimono

Chapter Twenty-one: Su-zakana

Chapter Twenty-Two: Shiizakana

Chapter Twenty-Three: Naka-Choko

Chapter Twenty-Four: Ko No Mono

Chapter Twenty-Five: Tome-Wan

Chapter Twenty-Six: Mizumono

ACT 3-

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Letter

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Primavera

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Secondo

Chapter Thirty- Contorno

Chapter Thirty-One- Dolce

Chapter Thirty-Two: Digestivo

Chapter Thirty-Three: The Great Red Dragon

Chapter Thirty-Four: And the Woman clothed with the Sun

Chapter Thirty-Five: And the Woman clothed in the Sun

Chapter Thirty-Six: And the Beast from the Sea

Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Number of the Beast is 666

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Wrath of the Lamb

Epilogue

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - DAY-

Find HANNIBAL smiling as he works on the card. An invitation card. For Jack Crawford. To dinner at Hannibal's house. Hannibal finishes the beautifully-drawn card and looks down upon it.

BAU - JACK CRAWFORD'S OFFICE - DAY-

The invitation sits on Jack's desk. MOVE UP from it to reveal JACK and Will. “Hannibal's invited me to dinner.” Will doesn't answer. Holds Jack's gaze. We are now in his office. He sits opposite Will.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - NIGHT-

“You sit in that chair, as you have so many times before. It holds among its molecules the vibrations of all our conversations ever held in its presence.”

“All the exchanges, the petty irritations, deadly revelations, the flat announcements of disaster.”

“The grunts and poetry of life. It's all still there. Everything we've said. Listen. What do you hear?”

“A melody.”

“We are orchestrations of carbon. You, Y/N and me and that chair.” “And Jack.”

“And Jack. All of our destinies flying and swimming in blood and emptiness.” He smiles.

BAU - JACK CRAWFORD'S OFFICE - DAY-

“Everybody's settling in for dinner.”

“I'll be wearing a wire. I'll have riflemen on rooftops of neighboring houses. Sight lines to all windows.”

“He'll try to kill you in the kitchen, for convenience. Make it easier to prepare the tartare.” Jack stares at Will a moment, "digesting" that. Then: “SWAT team will be on the ground for immediate access to the kitchen, dining room and front door. Can I convince you to wear a vest?”

“He would smell it. Besides, he's not going to shoot either one of us, Jack. He'll cut us.”

GRAHAM/BAILIE HOUSE - NIGHT-

Will walking toward his house which houses the person he calls home. The lights burning, warm and homey.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - NIGHT-

“Little did Agent Crawford know what waited for him when he stepped into my office that very first time. How seldom we recognize the sound when the bolt of fate slides home.”

“Jack won't be easy to kill. He'll be armed. He's strong, well trained. We can't hesitate.”

“Hesitation is a consequence of indecision or uncertainty. I'm not suffering from either. Are you?”

GRAHAM/BAILIE HOUSE - NIGHT-

Y/N enters the room with her heart in hand. Her heart racing. with everything that has happened and that will happen. it feels right to tell Will about our little love. the seed he planted is flowering into something beautiful.

As she walks into the living room. Y/N sees the man she's fallen so deeply in love with. She can't help but think about how handsome and strong he is. His muscles and hair are so inviting to her. Will Graham sits down and looks at his beautiful love. "I made you some Coffee." She said. "Thank you, Honey."

"There is something I want to talk to you about."

"Yes, my love?"

"Well, you know how I haven't been feeling well lately." "Yes."

"And we both wanted a child." "Yes." I take a deep breath. "Well, I took a test. and It turns out that I'm pregnant." Will was stunned. He looked at me with tears of joy forming in his eyes. "We're going to be parents?"

"Yes." He gets up from his chair and goes over to me and kisses me passionately. I kiss him back, wrapping my arms around him. After a minute we break the kiss and stare into each other's eyes.

BAU - JACK CRAWFORD'S OFFICE - DAY-

“Hannibal thinks you're his man in the room. I think you're mine.” Will does not respond.

HANNIBAL as he studies Will.

“When the fox hears the rabbit scream, he comes a-runnin', but not to help. When you hear Jack scream, why will you come running?”

“When the time comes…” “When the time comes…”

“...will you do what needs to be done?” “...will you do what needs to be done?” Each one want a different thing. But all he wants is to keep the woman he loves and the child she carries safe. “Oh, yes.”

GRAHAM/BAILIE HOUSE - NIGHT-

Will walks up to the porch and reacts as if he's about to greet an old acquaintance. And he is. He climbs the steps. The front door swings open revealing Will standing just outside. His DOGS surround the door, not to greet their master, but instead, they BARK and GROWL at him!

Will backs away from his front door as it reveals GARRET JACOB HOBBS standing on the porch, haloed by the porch light, the only warmth in a monochromatic night. “Shhhh.” The VICIOUS BARKING and GROWLING of dogs abruptly fades away. Will looks down -- a HUNTING RIFLE now in his hands. Hobbs moves to the railing of the porch and Will follows him.

Will's house now sits high in a TREE overlooking a FIELD OF SKELETAL TREES resembling ANTLERS. A DEER BLIND. until it reveals the BLACK STAG slowly making its way directly in front of their sights. Garret Jacob Hobbs indicates for Will to look out beyond the porch. He smiles at Will. “See?” Will looks the direction Garret Jacob Hobbs is indicating and raises his rifle, looking through the scope.

FBI - FREDDIE LOUNDS'S DORM ROOM - DAY-

Will Graham and Freddie Lounds. “The correspondents of those august journals who always looked down on me can eat their hearts out. Nothing sells better than a survival story.”

“I wouldn't count us as survivors just yet, Freddie.”

“I'm counting me as a survivor. I started as a cancer editor at a supermarket tabloid. "New Cure for Cancer." "Cancer Miracle Cure."”

“Cancer is very-lucrative media.”

“One in five Americans dies of it. The relatives of all those dying, worn out, prayed out, trying to fight raging carcinoma masses, are desperate for anything hopeful.”

“We're all desperate for a little hope. I want you to do something for me, Freddie, or rather, don't. Don't write about Abigail or Y/N. You can write about me, you can write about Hannibal. But leave Abigail and Y/N alone.” Freddie considers the odd request, studying Will, then: “You really don't know if you're going to survive him, do you?”

“Let her rest in peace. And My family live quietly.”

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - NIGHT-

Hannibal smiles down from the second-floor landing. He turns and continues pulling out patient journals. Surrounded by stacks of the journals, Will peruses the one in his hand. He continues to study the patient journal as he crosses to the burning fire. One more moment of consideration, then he tosses it on the licking flames, which wrap around it.

It roasts on the fire, the ENCEPHALITIS CLOCK devoured by flame, leaving CURLING BLACKENED ASH. “Won't your patients need these after you're gone?” Hannibal approaches Will by the fireplace, a handful of leather-bound patient journals in his arms. “The FBI will pore over my notes if I left them intact. I would spare my patients that scrutiny.”

“That's very considerate.”

“I'm dismantling who I was and moving it brick by brick. ive gone from this life, Jack Crawford and the FBI behind us, I will always have this place.”

“In your "memory palace"?”

“My palace is vast, even by medieval standards. The foyer is the Norman chapel in Palermo, severe and beautiful and timeless, with a single reminder of mortality: a skull graven in the floor.”

“All I need is a stream. Or Y/N’s Heartbeat.”

“In those moments, when you can't overcome your surroundings, you can make it all go away.”

“Put my head back, close my eyes, wade into the quiet of the stream.”

“If I'm ever apprehended, my memory palace will serve as more than amnemonic system, I will live there.” Will studies Hannibal a moment, considering his future: “Could you be happy there?” Hannibal reflects on the question, uncertain, but smiles.

“All the palace chambers are not lovely, light and high. In the vaults of our hearts and brains, danger waits. There are holes in the floor of the mind.” As Will turns to pick up more files, Hannibal leans toward him. Hannibal's nostrils FLARE as he inhales.

BAU - CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY-

Y/N listens as Alana confesses: “I feel poisoned.” I sigh softly. “We've all been poisoned.”

“Even my memories are suspect. I keep compulsively poring over every moment I've spent with him, struggling to separate the man I know from the man you know.”

“Will doesnt pretend to know him. He just understands him.”

“He saw what no one else could.”

“All it took was the traumatic.”

“Most of the literature on coping with the traumatic focuses on how people deal with the aftermath. We're still in the thick of it.”

“Almost through the worst of it.” I sigh, No matter the end of this, it wont be the end. I’ll still lose someone. Maybe even myself. “How will you get through the rest?” I consider that, then avert My weary eyes. “You'll have to ask Jack.”

“I'm asking you. Jack and Will set some sort of trap and Their goading Hannibal into it.” I look at Alana, his silence an admission. Her eyes begin to well with tears, sad about being left outside to watch some horrible unraveling of events like a bystander. “How can you be sure he's not goading Will?”

“I can't.” I sigh with worry, Cradling my belly. Alana sighs, fearing the worst.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT-

a standing pair of RACKS OF LAMB, INTERLACED RIBS, like the hands of prayer or a church's

steeple, to find Hannibal sitting at the head of his table, considering his reflection in the rippling red wine. “Do you know what an imago is, Will?” reveals Will by his side. “It's pulled apart, warmth erupting, extending like wings.”

“It's a flying insect.”

“It's the final stage of a transformation…Maturity.”

“When you become who you will be.”

“It's also a term from the dead religion of psychoanalysis. An imago is an image of a loved oneburied in the unconscious, carried with us all our lives.”

“An ideal.”

“The concept of an ideal always searching for an objective reality to match. I have a concept of you just as you have a concept of me.” Will takes a drink.

“Neither of us ideal.” Hannibal considers that; there was a brief moment that he believed the ideal before he smelled betrayal. Question is….is he the only one that has betrayed him? “We are both too curious about too many things for any ideals. Is it ideal that Jack die?” Will hesitates almost imperceptibly. “It's necessary. What happens to Jack has been preordained.”

“We could disappear now. Tonight. Feed your dogs. Take Y/N. Leave a note for Dr. Bloom, never see her or Jack Crawford again. Almost polite.” Hannibal Smiles at the Thought. A family within the madness of their fantasy. “That'd make this our last supper.” “Of this life. I am serving lamb.”

“Sacrificial? Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.”

“I freely claim my sin. I don't need a sacrifice. Do you?”

“I need him to know. If I confessed to Jack Crawford now, you think he would forgive me?”

“I would forgive you. If Jack were to tell you all is forgiven, Will, would you accept his forgiveness?”

“Jack isn't offering forgiveness. He wants justice. He wants to see you. See who you are. See who I've become. Know the truth.” Hannibal takes the moment in, thoughtful, raises a glass: “To the truth, then. And all its consequences.” Hannibal says, tears threatening to brim in his eyes.

FBI ACADEMY - CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY-

A group of FBI TACTICAL AGENTS and FORENSICS TECHS are gathered as Jack Crawford is pointing to MARKED SNIPER LOCATIONS on a satellite picture of Hannibal Lecter's neighborhood. BRIAN ZELLER and JIMMY PRICE are to one side. Kade Prurnell has entered with Alana Bloom following a few steps behind.

Jack sees Alana and Kade standing together, sighs, then: “Gentlemen, would you excuse us.” The team gets up and heads out. Zeller and Price at the back. “Not you two. Stay right there.” Zeller and Price stay. After the tactical agents have exited: “Boy, you know how to go out with a bang. This is entrapment, Jack.”

“You can't entrap someone into committing premeditated murder.”

“Yes, you can. You're doing it.” to Zeller and Price “Either of you fabricate evidence?” Zeller is genuinely unsure, “Define "fabricate."”

“Are you asking if we built something or just lied?” ignoring them; to Jack “You conspired to violate Dr. Lecter's property and personal rights. The only one involved in this investigation we can confirm has killed someone is Will Graham. And How do we Know that Dr. L/N isnt involved in any of this?”

“It was self-defense. And Y/N is expecting and has only ever been helpful, and at most times the voice of reason during cases. Me and Will wouldnt put her life and her unborn childs life at risk.”

“You're using yourself as bait.”

“I'm the best bait we have.” Kade takes a breath, focuses. “Hannibal Lecter is being induced to commit murder by an undercover FBI informant. This is outrageous government conduct. Do you realize who will be held responsible?”

“Hannibal will be held responsible.”

“You would never get a conviction.” Jack scoffs and crosses his arms.

“If Hannibal is who we believe him to be, you would've just handed him his Get Out of Jail Free card.”

“You should thank Dr. Bloom. She just saved us all a lot of trouble.”

“Thank you, Dr. Bloom.” Alana holds his gaze. “You're not thinking clearly, Jack.”

“We are as close as we will ever be.”

“You're distracted. I understand your wife is very ill. Pending an enquiry, I'm putting you on forced compassionate leave. Agents will be waiting in your office to relieve you of your badge and gun.”

BAU - JACK CRAWFORD'S OFFICE - DAY-

Jack stands behind the desk. TWO AGENTS wait to escort him out. Kade Prurnell watches the process. All plays MOS. Jack holds her gaze for a second and then walks out, the agents in close attendance behind him.

JACK CRAWFORD'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - LATE AFTERNOON-

Bella, her hands lie across her chest. The room is silent, motes of dust drift through the dimming light of the dying day. Night is coming. Bella's breathing RISES and FALLS...Jack sits in a chair, watching his wife sleep. Rise... Fall… Bella misses a breath. Jack studies her more closely. Bella breathes again, a flutter, and then a full breath. Jack rises and stands over his wife, takes her hand. She doesn't stir, breath continuing to rise and fall. Jack watching Bella sleep...

BAU - JACK CRAWFORD'S OFFICE - DAY-

Kade Prurnell sits behind Jack's desk, going through RANDALL TIER CRIME SCENE PICTURES, SATELLITE PHOTOS of Hannibal's house and various paperwork. She's boggled by it all. Alana Bloom enters the office. Kade looks up from the various pieces of evidence, noticing Alana. “This is staggering.” Alana approaches the desk, thoughtful. “What are you going to do about Hannibal Lecter?”

“What Jack should have done. We froze his passport and we're getting a search warrant.”

“Hannibal already opened his doors to the FBI. There won't be physical evidence. The only way to catch him is in the act.”

“You think we should've just let Jack Crawford hang himself and everyone else in his department.”

“No, but Will and Jack are still your best chance to catch Hannibal.” Kade references the Randall Tier crime scene photos. “The man Will Graham killed in self defense? He was mutilated. Limbs removed. Head severed at the jaw. At a certain point, self-defense stops. Will Graham didn't stop.” Kade tosses the crime scene photos back on the pile. “Jack Crawford sanctioned this. And then he covered it up.”

“I have to believe Will was trying to maintain his cover identity.”

“Reality doesn't go away if you stop believing in it, Dr. Bloom. It's stubborn like that. The reality of this situation is Jack Crawford was misusing the power of his office.”

“They're desperate.”

“They are breaking the law. This is criminal conduct. I have to bring charges against these men.”

“They're not going to stop.”

“That's why they're being brought into custody.”

“Jack knows what you'll find, he knows what you have to do. You have to know that won't stop him from doing what he has to do”

ALANA BLOOM'S CAR - NIGHT-

Alana sits in her car. Pondering what to do. Debating her actions. She pulls out her cell phone --

GRAHAM/BAILIE HOUSE - NIGHT-

The telephone RINGS and Will picks it up. “Hello.”

“It's Alana. Is Jack with you?”

“No. Why?”

“I... I wanted to find some middle ground between believing the world is perfectly safe and terribly dangerous. I was trying to…” Her voice trails off, overwhelmed with emotion. “What did you do?”

“They've issued a warrant for your arrest, Will. For acting as an accessory to entrapment and the murder of Randall Tier. They're going to arrest Jack, too.” LIGHTS and the CRUNCH of gravel draw Will to the window. Two FBI SUVs are pulling into Their driveway. “Good-bye, Alana.”

“Will?” He hangs up. Grabs his coat and gun. “Y/N! Honey we have to Go!”

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT-

Hannibal Looks up as Jack Crawford enters. Hannibal smiles. “Hello, Jack. You're early.” Hannibal never stops chopping. It slices down on the meat. ALL SOUND IS DULLED. What we can hear is the RHYTHMIC BREATHING and HEARTBEAT of Hannibal against the ORGANIC HUM of his CIRCULATORY SYSTEM.

Hannibal turns the block of knives in front of him so the handles are now facing Jack, should he want one. The light reflecting off of his kitchen knife dances briefly across his face. “Would you care to sous-chef?” Jack glances at the knives. “I want to thank you for your friendship, Hannibal.”

“The most-beautiful quality of a true friend is to understand and be understood with absolute clarity.”

“Then this is the truest moment of our friendship.” Jack’s hand drifts toward his coat, brushing his thumb across the fasten of his sidearm holster. Hannibal THROWING HIS KITCHEN KNIFE AT JACK.

Jack Crawford dives out of the way as he draws his gun from his holster and SHLUCK... Hannibal’s KNIFE MOVES THROUGH Jack’s hand at the wrist, his gun clatters to the floor. Hannibal vaults over the kitchen counter as Jack pulls the knife out of his wrist, swinging it immediately. The blade whisks through the air, narrowly missing Hannibal.

He yanks another knife from the cutting board and swings it in a deadly arc. Jack jackknifes his torso to avoid the blade, slashing back at Hannibal with quick swipes. Hannibal deflects Jack’s knife with his own and they dodge, parry and block each other’s blades.

Jack thrusts and slices into Hannibal’s waist, who twists around the knife, knocking it from Jack’s grip. Hannibal lunges his knife at Jack’s belly, meaning to gut him. Jack blocks the knife with a cutting board and then smashes the cutting board into the side of Hannibal’s head, knocking him off balance, but not quite down.

He grabs Hannibal and bodily swings him crashing into the cupboards. Hannibal throws his weight back at Jack, driving him across the kitchen, but not far. Jack is solid. Jack maneuvers his arms around Hannibal’s throat and begins to squeeze a chokehold. Hannibal writhes and kicks, trying to throw Jack off balance, but to no avail.

His eyelids flutter and pinch as he tries to focus and remain conscious. His body goes limp and he slumps in Jack’s arms... just enough for his shoulder to drop and allow his hand to reach a SHARD OF GLASS on the floor.

Hannibal plunges the SHARD OF GLASS into Jack’s neck. He recoils and stumbles back, clutching his neck. Hannibal acts quickly, picking up a butcher knife and turning on Jack. Still clutching his neck, Jack stumbles back into...

Jack falls inside, kicking the door closed on the advancing Hannibal. SLAM. SLAM. SLAM. Hannibal throws his shoulder into the pantry door, Jack’s foot braced against it. SLAM. He throws his shoulder into a braced door. Jack holds his neck wound with one hand as he fumbles for his phone with the other. SLAM. SLAM. SLAM. The door splinters. The terrible focus of a predatory animal.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - NIGHT-

Alana approaches the front door, hesitating on the walkway. She stops, debating if she should stay or go and what the hell she was doing there in the first place. The RAIN is loud, drowning out all else in the night. She turns and starts to walk away, then stops and turns around again. This time, right up to the door.

Which is slightly ajar. Alana pushes the door open ever so slightly and listens. Straining against the rain outside... then begins to identify the SOUNDS OF STRUGGLE and a SUSTAINED SHOUT from Jack. Alana goes pale, pulls out her phone, dials. She holds the phone with one hand and digs through her bag with the other.

“911. Please state the nature of your emergency.” Alana fishes her gun out of her bag. “I'd like to report gunshots.” Gun drawn, Alana pushes the door open. She hears somethingWUMPF with a RATTLE, followed by a series of SLAM-SLAM-SLAM. “Jack?”

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - NIGHT-

Alana wades through the darkness, toward the slidingdouble doors of the dining room, open not even an inch. CUT RIGHT DOWN THE MIDDLE by a single SLIVER OF LIGHT, the room falling into darkness around her, gun at the ready.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT-

SLAM. SLAM. SLAM. The door finally splinters under Hannibal's force. Alana Bloom in the doorway. “Hannibal…” then clearer “Hannibal.” Hannibal stops, turns to see Alana. “Hello, Alana.”

She looks around the broken, bloody room, mounting horror. Hannibal sighs, truly disappointed to see her here. “What a terrible and wonderful thing it is to see you.”

“Where's Jack?”

“In the pantry.” The moment of truth. “I was hoping you and I wouldn't have to say good-bye. I imagined a farewell less sorrowful, less present, an echo. Nothing said nor seen. You may've thought that rude.” He takes a step toward her, her finger tensing on the gun.

“Stop.” He does. “I was so blind.”

“In your defense, I worked very hard to blind you. You can stay blind. You can hide from this. Walk away. I'll make no plans to call on you. But if you stay, I will kill you. Be blind, Alana. Don't be brave.” She pulls the trigger. And the gun CLICKS. She pulls it again and another CLICK. “I took your bullets.” CLICK. CLICK. Alana stares. Frozen. As huge simple terror washes over her. Alana RUNS. Hannibal takes a breath, then gives reluctant pursuit.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - ENTRANCE HALL/STAIRWAY - NIGHT-

Alana runs through the hallway and starts up a large staircase. down the stairs as Hannibal comes charging behind her. Alana speeds up. But he is faster... As they round a bend in the stairs, he grabs for her. His hand clutches at her ankle. Grasps her shoe. Alana slips, kicks her foot from her shoe and scrabbles on her knees.

KICKS Hannibal hard with the other heel, catching his face and rocking him back. Hannibal smiles. Takes his time now as he follows her. ANGLE DOWN THE STAIRCASE as Alana runs toward us, Hannibal slowly stalking behind.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT-

Alana comes up the stairs, into the hallway. She makes for a bedroom door.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT-

Alana BURSTS into the dark bedroom and SLAMS the door closed. Turns the key in the lock. Stares at the door. HEART SLAMMING. CIRCULATORY SYSTEM pounding in her ears. She GASPS for breath. She is lit only by MOONLIGHT creeping through the window. Alana thinks quickly. Pulls the spare clip from her bag and ejects the empty one from her gun.

Alana SLAMS the clip into the gun and draws the slide and FIRES TWICE into the door. BANG. BANG. TWO BEAMS OF LIGHT pierce the gloom and hit Alana like laser beams.

“I found more bullets.” A SHADOW moves outside the door, blocking the beams of light for a second, and Alana fires again, making a third.

ALANA -- in profile -- breathing hard, facing the door. Lit by the orange beams of light. Gun at the ready. Aiming down the barrel, just as she was taught. Standoff. And then a figure -- indistinct -- steps from the shadows beside her. Ghostly, long-haired, ethereal...

Alana senses her presence and turns. She instinctively turns the gun to Abigail. Then lowers it. ALANA as so many things register. “Abigail…” Abigail fights tears, on the edge. “I'm so sorry…” And she suddenly SHOVES Alana, propels her backward and PUSHES Alana OUT OF THE WINDOW.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - NIGHT-

The front of the house, viewed from the street. HEAVY RAIN FALLING. Lights burning golden yellow.

Beyond that PLANE OF FOCUS, a blur of violence inside as Alana comes through the bedroom window, SHATTERING GLASS and SPLINTERING WOOD. Alana continues to sail through the rain, accompanied by a cloud of shattered glass.

Over this, a series of single notes, played on a harpsichord, an incongruous, pretty sound, its pace somehow suiting Alana's beautiful-yet-terrible descent… Alana hits the cement outside with a sickening THWACK and a SHOWER OF BROKEN GLASS She lies broken and unmoving, pelted by rain, staring into middle distance, not breathing.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - NIGHT-

Will and Y/N run to the corner and Hannibal's house. Guns drawn. He slows as he sees Jack's and Alana's cars outside. And then they see Alana Bloom! Will rushes to her. Drops to his knees. Until... she takes a deep breath, having had the wind knocked out of her from the fall. She tries to speak, urgent and desperate -- blood bubbles over her lips.

“Don't talk. Just breathe…” He pulls off his jacket, rolls it up and places it gently around her head. Y/N pulls her phone from her pocket. Dials. Alana grasps his hand tight. Smearing her blood on him. Will looks around, anguished. The call connects:

“This is Dr. Y/N L/N. I need ERT at Hannibal Lecter's residence.” Y/N holds Alana's gaze. ‘Jack's inside…’

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - CELLAR - NIGHT-

LOW ANGLE in the cellar, lit by cracks of light from the floorboards above. Blood slowly forms HEAVY DROPS along the edge of the boards and then DRIPS down. Follow it back up through the cracks...

Where Jack is lying on the floor, still grasping his neck wound. Blood PULSING past his hands. He is fading. He holds his cell phone. We see it is dialing. But not 911... "Bella" flashes on the display...

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT-

Will and Y/N step into the dining room. Their movements are slow. So, so tense. They slide toward the kitchen. Eyes darting. Comes round the corner to see...

THE KITCHEN

Lights still on, blood and destruction everywhere. Will looks at the room, the blood smears and the chaos. BLOOD POOLS from beneath the pantry door. They cross to

the pantry door and then stop, realizing Their not alone. Abigail Hobbs stands in the kitchen.

Abigail turns and sees him. Her face is tear streaked. She is agitated, doesn't know what to do.

Will struggles to process her. They stare at one another. Y/N’s heart almost stops. Tears fill them. Will can't begin to understand and yet understands totally… “Abigail...?”

“I didn't know what else to do. So I did what he told me.” Abigail begins to shake, fighting sobs. Y/N goes to comfort her. Enveloping the girl into a tight maternal hug. “Where is he?” Her face suddenly falls. Will has a millisecond to register, and then, before he can react... “Hello, Will.”

I turn around keeping A hold of Abigail. Hannibal is looming behind Will. Arm coming round as if in an embrace, moving swiftly. Will is still in shock about Abigail when Hannibal warmly welcomes him with open arms. “You were supposed to leave.”

“We couldn't leave without you Two.” BLOOD SPRAYS up between them, splashing their faces. Abigail SCREAMS as Will's gun drops to the floor and his hands go to his belly. “No!’ I shout tears spilling from my eyes. Me and Abigail watch in horror as Will staggers and falls against the wall. His gun out of reach. Will looks down --

To see blood SPILLING from a WIDE CUT across his abdomen. His INNARDS straining at the wound. I attempt to go for him but Abigail Grabs my arm. “Abigail let go.” I say fighting against her hold. She just cries “I’m sorry”

“Time has reversed. The teacup I've shattered has come together. A place has been made once more in the world for Abigail. A place was made for all of us. Together. I wanted to surprise you. And you... wanted to surprise me.” Hannibal is heartbroken. Will is shaking, trying to remain conscious and out of shock. I’m still Crying.

“I let you in. I let you know me. I let you see me.” Hannibal says Stroking Will’s hair. “You wanted to be seen.” I never wanted any of this to happen. I Would've left with them if I'd known. Then maybe My friends ...My Will……The father of our child….wouldn't be bleeding out on the floor.

“By both of you. A rare gift I've given you. But you didn't want it.” Will isn't so definitive. “Didn't We?”

“You would deny me my life.”

“Not your life.”

“My freedom, then. You'd take that from me. Confine me to a basement cell. Do you believe you could change me the way I've changed you?”

“We already have.” Hannibal studies Will a moment, realizing he's right. “Fate and circumstance has returned us to the moment the teacup shatters. I forgive you, Will.” Hannibal stands next to a terrified Abigail who realizes she's made a bargain with the devil. Abigail lets go of me and goes to Hannibal. “Will you forgive me?” Hannibal is genuinely sad. Will has time for a single, shocked: “Don't…”

And Hannibal CUTS ABIGAIL'S THROAT in a single, sleek motion, right across the scar where her father once did the same. Abigail's face shows shock and horror. And then blood SPRAYS and Abigail crumples to the floor before Will. “No!” I attempt to get to her but Hannibal Grabs me by my waist. I Cry out like a mother would for her child. “No…no..” I cry.

Abigail clutches at her throat to stop the bleeding, but it pours from between her fingers. Will is horrified. “You can make it all go away.”

“Put your head back. Close your eyes. Wade into the quiet of the stream.”

Will drags himself to Abigail and takes his hands from his own terrible wound and places them against her throat. Trying to stem the flow of bleeding. A bloody Will pulls Abigail to him, lifting her head higher to try to stem the blood flow. His own wound TEARS and he SCREAMS in pain… And then it is too much and Will collapses backward to the floor. His own face is inches from Abigail's. She looks at him.

Hannibal Turns me to face him. I look broken. Tears falling. “Please…I'm pregnant…” Hannibal shushes me as he strokes my face. “I could never hurt you…..not now not ever….not even in the midst of this failed plan to capture me.” He strokes my belly gently and Kisses my forehead and my tear stained cheeks. “I’m sorry Y/N.”

We hold a look and then Hannibal disappears into the darkness, I scramble to Will. Cradling his head in my lap, I put pressure on his wound. “Its gonna be okay, you have to be okay”

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - NIGHT-

SIRENS WAIL in the night, coming closer. ALANA BLOOM -- lies on the ground outside, breathing in shallow gasps, eyes staring upward. Hannibal, now in an overcoat and carrying a valise, STEPS OVER her and keeps walking. Alana's faint breath mists the air... the puffs coming slower and slower.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - PANTRY - NIGHT-

JACK CRAWFORD -- eyes struggling to stay open. Still. Slow, weak breaths. The phone RINGS one last time in his hand and then CLICKS. “Hello...? Jack...?” Jack's eyes flutter and close...

STREET - NIGHT-

Hannibal walks away with his valise as FLASHING LIGHTS and SIRENS invade the street behind him.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT-

THREE YEARS LATER

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - DAY-

Hannibal sits behind his desk, across from ALANA BLOOM, the gorgeous white truffle between them. There's a playful yet slightly-challenging tone. “How I found you in Florence.”

“Betrayed by good taste. Is good taste itching at you in your daily rounds of institutional life?”

“An itch easy enough to scratch…” Alana takes a sip from her own glass of wine. “...when there's cause to celebrate. Congratulations, Hannibal. You're officially insane.”

“There's no consensus in the psychiatric community what I should be termed.”

“You've long been regarded by your peers in psychiatry as something entirely Other. For convenience, they term you a monster.” Alana snickers, Hannibal piqued with Curiosity. “What do you term me?”

“I don't. You defy categorization.” She takes another sip and makes a small "yummy" sound. “Do you still prefer beer to wine?”

“Stopped drinking beer when I found out what you were putting in mine.” She looks directly inhis eyes, finally seeing all of him. “Who.”

“Who.” At that, Alana SLOWLY TRANSFORMS from reality into art: A CHARCOAL OF BOTTICELLI'S FORTITUDE WITH ALANA'S FACE The drawing speaks: “This means you'll be spared the federal death sentence.” this drawing to reveal it is inside Hannibal's cell. Hannibal is now in BSHCI-issue garb.

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - DAY-

Hannibal sits before the glass of his cage, facing Alana on the other side. His cell is a white canvas on which he can project his memory palace. A small scattering of books and drawings and articles that intrigue him, but minimal. On his table, a newspaper. Headline: "FAMILY SLAUGHTERED IN BUFFALO." We note it, but don't linger. “They had enough to convict you a dozen times over.”

“A baker's dozen. Lest we forget Mason Verger. You're welcome.” He smirks, amused. “You're welcome, Hannibal. The needle was guaranteed. But you beat it all on an insanity plea.” Alana says, she is amused with herself, having caged the creature. “I'm not insane.”

“You know that and I know that. A dozen or a baker's dozen, enough people have died.”

“You haven't.”

“A promise in waiting, isn't it? A promise you intend to keep.”

“I always keep my promises.”

MOOSEHEAD LAKE, ME - FISHING CABIN - DAY-

An achingly-beautiful view -- pine-forested hills surrounding a frozen lake beneath a vast blue sky softly painted with clouds. DOGS run among the trees, kicking up the snow. Down the

slope, a rustic fishing cabin sits overlooking the lake.

WILL GRAHAM, bundled against the cold, but enjoying the air on his face as he repairs a fence.

And then his face falls a little. He stands. A black SUV is coming down the track. He watches it, face inscrutable.

FISHING CABIN - VERANDA - DAY-

A mug of hot cider is set large in the foreground, steam rising from it in ghostly ribbons. Reveal it has been placed before Jack Crawford by Will Graham. The two men sit on the veranda overlooking the lake. Several stray dogs lie and mill at their feet. Will's posture is relaxed. He's unshaven. Jack is wearing a more formal overcoat, here on business. “Don't want to talk inside? Don't want to let me inside. Come too far to let the cold stop me, Will.”

“Why should the cold do something common sense couldn't?”

“You don't want to talk about it here.”

“I don't want to talk about it anywhere. You've got to talk about it, so let's have it. Just don't get out any pictures. Y/N and Brianna will be back soon.” He glances down to the shore.

“How much do you know?”

“Two families killed, in their homes, a month apart. Similar Circumstances. Y/N told me.”

“Not "similar." The same. You ever think about giving me a call?”

“No.”

“You know what it is.”

“I didn't call you because I didn't want to. I don't think I'd be all that useful to you, Jack. I never think about it anymore. I don't believe I could do it now.” Will looks down the lakeshore to where his Now wife Y/N and their 3 year old are walking toward them. Jack pulls two photos from his jacket pocket and flips them face up onto the table. Snapshots. Two happy families.

“All dead.” Will stares at them and then back down the lakeshore at his family closer now, laughing together. A good-looking, vibrant woman and a cute kid in winter clothes.

“This freak seems to be in phase with the moon. Killed the Jacobis in Chicago almost four weeks ago. Full moon. Killed the Leeds family in Buffalo night before last. One day short of a lunar month. If we're lucky, we have a little over three weeks before he does it again.” And then Y/N and Brianna are coming toward them, a little out of breath, chilly, their noses red. The dogs milling to greet them.  

FISHING CABIN - WOODPILE - NIGHT-

Will chops wood as Y/N picks up the pieces. “Jack stopped by to see me at the shop before he came out here. He asked directions to the house.”

“He said he got lost.”

“Good. That was the idea. I tried to tell him you dont want to be apart of it anymore.”

“What else did he ask you?”

“He asked how you are. I said you're fine. Said, if you missed your other life, you'd talk about it. You never do. You're happy and we’re safe. And i’m more than capable enough to handle this case. Its my Unit and i should be mad at jack for involving you when i said no.”  Will considers that and her, smiles. “Are you going to help him?”

“Helping Jack is bad for me.” Will as he splits another log… “I agree, i told him we didnt need you to consult.”  A CRACKLING FIRE It burns in the hearth. We are –

FISHING CABIN - DINING ROOM - NIGHT-

The dogs wander up to Jack and flop to the ground around him and the modest dining table at which he's seated along with Will and Y/N. Cluttered and comfortable. The remains of a fine fish dinner sit on the table. There is a nearly-empty bottle of red wine. “Those are probably dogs. People dump small ones here all the time. We can give away the cute ones, rest stay around and get to be big ones.” 

“We’re a sucker for strays.”

“You're not fooling anybody.” I smile at my husband, squeezing his hand tightly. “Got a nice life here.”

“I'm lucky here. I know that.” Brianna is reading a book on the floor by her fathers seat. “How old is she?” Brianna Perks up, “I’m three!” She holds up three fingers and goes back to reading. “And she’s already reading?” Will smiles at his Daughter.

“She’s very intelligent. Come on Bri lets go take the dogs out.” Will leaves the table and Brianna follos her dad happily. Will starts in corralling the dogs out the front door, leaving Y/N alone with Jack.

“Whatever he says he wants to do, you'll take him anyway, won't you? You’ll take both of us.” But we’re not his to take. “I have to. I'll make it as easy on him as I can. He's changed. It's great you got married.”

“Jack…we have so many on the case already- and we have Brianna now-” I say, technically i have the power to say no. it would be my final decision. “I know what I'm asking. And I wished to God I didn't have to. But you know as well as i that we need the help.” Jack quietly produces the pictures he showed Will -- the families, alive and happy. He slides them across the table.

FISHING CABIN - BEDROOM - NIGHT-

Y/N sits up in bed as Will pulls off his boots. She rests on his shoulders and he leans into her. She kisses his neck. “How bad is it gonna be if you stay here and read about the next one? If We stay here and there's more killing, maybe it'd sour this place for you. High Noon and all that.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“I'd have the satisfaction that we did the right thing. He kills families. We dont know how he chooses them and as much as i’m working my ass off on this case i do admit we need help. My team can only do so much.” I admit softly. I want him home, i dont want him to come. But it was inevitible that he would.

“Don't say that. If I go... I'll be different when I get back.” i cradle his face in one of my hands. “We won't. We will be as we always have been.” As Will kisses Me tenderly...

FISHING CABIN - DINING ROOM - NIGHT-

Will stares at the fireplace and then the letter in his hand. He tears it open and pulls a second envelope from within, the salutation written in charcoal.

Will considers it and then rips it open. He opens the folded paper and a CLIPPING falls to the ground. He traps it with one foot. Will regards the letter and its handwriting: recognizably Hannibal's.

"Dear Will, we have all found a new life, but our old lives hover in the shadows, like incipient madness. Soon enough, I fear Jack Crawford will come knocking. I would encourage you, as a friend, not to step back through the door he holds Open. Let Y/N handle this. It's dark on the other side and madness is waiting..."

Will ponders this note for a moment and then bends and picks up the clipping: the newspaper article about the Tooth Fairy killings. He tosses it into the fire, along with the note from Hannibal, and watches them both burn.

BUFFALO, NY - LEEDS HOUSE - BACKYARD - NIGHT-

Will approaches the sliding-glass door from the backyard, trees crowding over the high back fence behind him. He notices an empty doghouse tucked away from the house. Will tucks his flashlight under his chin and scribbles on a pad from his pocket: "Y/N - where is the dog?"  Will pulls a POLICE SEAL off the door and steps inside, into:

LEEDS HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT-

Quiet. The only lights are blue pilot lights on the stove. Will is silent and still, just feeling the house.

He crosses to the refrigerator and opens the door, bathing the room in pale light. Among the family-friendly array of healthy foods and bottles of milk is a peeled MINI CHEESE WHEEL with a jagged bite taken out of it.  Then -- the thermostat CLICKS and the heat comes on. Will flinches. He shuts the refrigerator door and turns on his flashlight, illuminating the empty room.

WILL'S FACE lit from below in the backwash of his flashlight beam, in fluid SLOW MOTION as he ascends the staircase toward the upstairs hallway...

LEEDS HOUSE - BOYS' BEDROOM - NIGHT-

PANNING to see a dark bedroom in disarray. Two beds empty, the sheets flung aside on the floor. RED STRINGS, representing blood spatter, stretch out from origin points, one in each bed (one on a boy's pillow, one on the floor near his bed), to the headboards, walls and floor, like strange spiny flowers.

THE FLASHLIGHT BEAM As it passes over the strings and their origin points, the small balls on sticks become the DEAD LEEDS CHILDREN, but only within the core of the flashlight beam, like a wormhole through time, lying as they were found and photographed.

A SMASHED MIRROR In the upstairs hallway, its shards shining brilliantly as Will plays the flashlight over them -- we just glimpse Will's face, fragmented in the shards, behind the flashlight's piercing reflection. His eyes blink out of sync.

Follow the flashlight beam down the hall toward an ominouslyopen door at the end... On the outer edges of the flashlight beam, we can make out BLOODSTAINS and DRAG MARKS on the floor. A few RED STRINGS extending out from the bloodstains.

THE FLASHLIGHT BEAM As with the dead boys, the small balls on sticks projecting strings of red become DEAD CHARLES LEEDS lying as he was found and photographed by the police. Finally, Will reaches that open door and enters the...

LEEDS HOUSE - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT-

Darkness. Shapes of furniture. Glints of mirror shards. Ominous dark designs on the walls.

Will's face again. Steely. Finally, he flicks on the light, the switch smeared with blood and strands of Mr. Leeds's hair. RED STRINGS extend from multiple origin points (one stationary on the bed, one that rose from the bed and staggered away), turning the bedroom into a nightmarish, phantasmagoric forest of red tendrils. Because there is –

LEEDS HOUSE - BACKYARD - NIGHT-

Will steps back and looks at the house, closes his eyes. FWUM. The PENDULUM clicks into place.

WILL -- now in full FWUM mode, about to reenact the crime from the killer's POV. A focused intensity to his movements. Will licks a SUCTION CUP and, with latex-gloved hands, sticks it to the glass.

A GLASS CUTTER Traces a circle on the clean glass -- then punches the circle loose. Will reaches through the hole and unlocks the door. his smooth, purposeful glide through the kitchen, up the stairs, to the –

LEEDS HOUSE - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT-

Will strides in, his body language that of an entirelydifferent person -- large, aggressive.

He slashes Mr. Leeds's throat. BLOOD GOUTS. As the man rises, groping blindly and gushing blood:

“I cut Mr. Leeds's throat as he lay asleep beside his wife.” Will flicks the light switch, leaving a smear of blood. Mrs. Leeds wakes and Will shoots her in the abdomen with a silenced pistol, the MUZZLE FLASH illuminating Will's face.

“I shoot Mrs. Leeds. The bullet enters to the right of her navel and lodges in her lumbar spine. But she will die of strangulation.” Mr. Leeds is moving toward Will, losing great gouts of blood.

“Mr. Leeds rises, with his throat cut, and tries to protect the children.” Will shoves Mr. Leeds aside and he stumbles toward the hall. Will watches as Mrs. Leeds falls back in shock and pain. He turns methodically and walks out into the --

LEEDS HOUSE - UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT-

Will moves into the boys' bedroom. Two more MUZZLE FLASHES wash across his emotionless features. “I shoot one of the two boys in bed. The other boy I drag out from under his bed and shoot him on the floor.”

Mr. Leeds staggers from the master bedroom, covered in blood, but collapses before he can reach Will, who doesn't react. “All of them are dead, except possibly Mrs. Leeds. The smashing of mirrors begins.” 

Will smashes the hallway mirror. Sees himself in the shards. QUICK SHOTS -- MIRRORS BEING SMASHED: Bathroom mirrors, closet mirrors, vanity mirrors...the shard of glass is lodged over one of Mrs. Leeds's eyes. Mrs. Leeds's eyes and mouth have mirror shards wedged across and in, respectively. We are --

LEEDS HOUSE - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT-

Will stands above Mrs. Leeds lying on her golden sheets. Something is wrong. He glances at the walls behind him.

Will Graham, in the bedroom, looking at all the bloodstains on one wall. A pattern among the mad spatters near the floor. “I moved the family after they were dead and then put them back the way they were when I killed them.” There are three tracks of bloodstains, smeared from the hallway to the wall where three bloodstains have soaked: a higher-source stain flanked by two lower patches.

Now Will stands in the same position he was in before, looking at the wall. But this time, MR. LEEDS FLANKED BY THE TWO BOYS The mirrors in their eyes glimmer while the rest of their bodies fall into darkness, almost disappearing entirely. They are all propped against the wall.

“I wanted them to watch.” He turns to the bed where Mrs. Leeds still writhes. “Talcum powder on the body... but there was none in the house…” the glove is snapped off... leaving his hand naked in the cool air. He stands in front of the bed, bathed in a warm light.

“I have to touch her…”

Her eyes and mouth glow with GOLDEN LIGHT emanating from her eyes, mouth and crotch chakra, reflecting off the golden sheets of the Leeds' bed. As he reaches out to touch the Woman Clothed in Sun, behind him, RED STRINGS fan into the air, creating his wings.

“This is my design.”

BAU - EVIDENCE PROCESSING - DAY-

Zeller and Price flank the illustration of the fingerprint on the wall behind them. They are staring quizzically at… “It's a partial. Probably a thumb.” Y/N and Will Stand in front of Zeller and Price who are mildly distracted by Will's presence. “Jimmy, you're the light of my life.” I smile, i take a look at the print. 

“I know. The print's smudged. Came off Mrs. Leeds's eye. Never did that before. Never would've seen it, but it stood out against an eight-ball hemorrhage.” He can't help stealing glances at Will, finally: “I just... I can't believe you're back. I'm surprised you're back.”

“Welcome back.”

“It's good to see you.”

“Jimmy.” I warn. Price focuses back on the task, blows up scans on a screen. “The mirror pieces all had those smooth prints. Forefinger on the back of the piece wedged in the labia, smudged thumb on the front.”

“He polished it after he placed it, so he could see his face in there.” Will thinks, a hand cradling his jaw. “One in her mouth was obscured with blood. Same with the eyes. Ran an AFIS. He's not in the print index.”

“We could always do a Have-You-SeenThese-Teeth sort of APB.” Zeller wheels a trolley to them. On its surface is a Lucite stand displaying a set of teeth molded in resin, with a hinge. “They're distinctive.” They look at the mold -- a replica of Dolarhyde's dentures.

“Pegged lateral incisors. Here and here. The teeth are all crooked, a corner is missing from this central incisor. The other incisor is grooved, here. It looks like a "tailor's notch," the kind of wear you get biting thread.” Zeller points out. “Snaggletooth son of a Bitch.”

“He bites a lot. Six bad ones in Mrs. Leeds. Eight in Mrs. Jacobi.”

“He may have a history of biting in lesser assaults. May be a fighting pattern as much as sexual behavior.” Will leans against a nearby empty table. I look up at my husband, “What's he fighting, Will?” I ask softly as i adjust myself.

BAU - DR. Y/N GRAHAM-L/N'S OFFICE - DAY-

I look up from My desk to see Will standing before me. “You were asking about the dog. Last night, a vet called the police. Leeds and his oldest brought it into the vet the afternoon before they were killed.” I say softly. “What's going to happen to it?” Will asks me. 

“Please don't worry about the dog, Will.” I sigh. I set my pen down and close the file i was looking over. “What do you expect me to do Care?”

“Best we can Honey. For Bri.” I stand and walk over to him. “There's something else I can do. I can wait until I'm driven to it by desperation in the last days before the full moon. Or I could do it now, while it might be of some use.”

“Is there an opinion you want, Will? I’m not Jack. I might’ve taken the mantle of his job but im not him. I want you home with me and Bri as much as you do.” I cup his face in my Hands. “A mindset we need to recover. We have to see Hannibal.”

BSHCI - CORRIDOR - DAY-

Will moves down the corridors of the BSHCI, Side by Side with his wife who is holding their toddler, behind an ORDERLY, hating being there. The hall begins to darken as Will walks, until we are now --

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - DAY-

Hannibal stands on the other side of the glass, in his cell, facing Will and his Family. His surroundings are a converted space in the asylum. The windows and fireplace have been cemented over and the furnishings are minimal, but it's very comfortable.

“Hello, Dr. Lecter.”