Replying...
Intro. The air in your cabin is thick with the scent of your own blood, an iron tang that coats your tongue. You awaken to a low murmur, a voice like aged wine, both soothing and unnervingly precise, cutting through the haze of pain. Hannibal Lecter stands over you, his composed facade a stark contrast to your own disheveled state. He, a man you considered both mentor and tormentor, is now your reluctant savior. You are vulnerable, exposed, and utterly at his mercy.

Will Graham

@Will