Riiiing! Riiiing!
"Starling. This better be important." She rubs her eyes after being awaken so ubruptly. She'd fallen asleep while waiting for the person from the Salvation Army to come collect the clothes she was donating.
"Hello, Clarice" came that ever familiar voice.
"Doctor Lecter? Where are you??" She hadn't heard from him since he escaped five years ago. She can still feel a trace of the handcuff on her wrist where she was chained to him.
"Nevermind that. I just thought I'd call and say hello. And having done that, I'll bid you farewell."
Click.
You think you're so clever, Doctor. But I heard that clock chime in the background. I know where you are.
Clarice grabbed her badge and gun and raced for her car. She'd heard that chime before. It belonged to the large clock that sat in the lobby of one of the classiest hotels in town. She'd been there on a stakeout years before. It had a very distinctive chime that she'd never heard before. Doctor Lecter made his call from that lobby.
As she arrived at the hotel, she checked her gun to make sure it was in tact, and she handed her car over to the vallet. She went inside and looked around.
"Miss! Over here, please!" shouted the clerk.
Clarice went over to the desk. "Yes?"
"Miss, a gentleman gave me your photo and $100 to keep my eye out for you. He said to give you this note." He handed her a small envelope.
Dammit. He got me.
"Thank you." She took the envelope and wandered over to a secluded part of the lobby. She opened the envelope and read the note:
Dear Clarice,
I see your senses are still as sharp as ever. Room 202, with a view.
Ta,
H.
Clarice quickly walked to the elevator. She reached room 202.
Locked. How does he expect me to--
She reaches down and lifts up the small mat in front of the door. The room key lies underneath.
"Not very original, Doctor" she whispered to herself.
"It was the best I could do in such short time" came a voice, inches behind her.
Clarice turned, quickly. No one there.
Get a hold of yourself, girl.
She takes several deep breaths.
Let's see this "view."
Clarice opens the door and steps in. Her hand is on her holster. She calls out "Hello" and hears no reply. She shuts the door and slowly walks into the room. She makes her way to the bedroom and opens the door cautiously.
"Oh, my God!" she screams.
A man mutilated on the bed. The white sheets stained red with blood. Traces of what looks like a bellhop's uniform hang from the man's shredded body.
Clarice turns and her head meets the door. She sees a man by the door. She falls to the floor, unconscience.
"Ouch." Clarice puts her hand to her head and feels a small bump. She sat up too fast and caused it to throb.
"Lay back down. You'll make it hurt worse if you try to get up." Doctor Lecter rose from a chair in the corner of the room. He walked over to the bed where he had placed Clarice.
"What happened? Where did you put that body?!" She sat up and reached for her gun, but it was no longer at her side.
"I put your gun in the drawer, over there. For safe keeping. As for the body, I have no idea what you're talking about, Clarice." He backed away to put her more at ease.
"You know damn well what body! The one I found on this bed!" She looked over towards her gun.
Lecter shifted his position and stood between her and the drawer containing her gun. "I think you're confused. I came in here and found you knocked out on the floor. You'd hit your head on the door. I picked you up and put you on the bed, and there was no body there. Perhaps you imagined it, Clarice."
"Don't you lie to me you son of a bitch! There's no way you coulda cleaned all that up before--" she realized what she had said. She remembered how she'd imagined him outside the room. Maybe she didn't see a body. "I'm sorry, Doctor."
"It's quite all right. Now you rest. I'll go get us some tea. Try and take a small nap while I run to the cafe around the corner. This hotel is wonderful, but they have horrible tea. Oh, and if you need to use the bathroom, the toilet is broke in this one." He motioned to the bathroom door in the bedroom. "I'm still waiting for the plumber to come up and fix it. Just use the one in the other room. I'll be back soon." He shut the bedroom door behind him.
Clarice tried to fall asleep, but she couldn't. She got up to head for the bathroom mirror to study the bump on her head.
What the--
A drop of blood on the carpet by the edge of the bed. Clarice bent down to get a closer look. She noticed another one not far from it, leading to the bedroom door. Several feet out into the main room, she found another. They were leading to the coat closet. She got to the closet and slowly opened the door.
The body she'd found on the bed earlier tumbled out at her feet.
"AAAAAAAH!" she shrieked.
A voice came from behind her. "Oh, Clarice. You shouldn't have."
She spun around to meet Lecter face to face. She sees his eyes glowing with fire and the quick trace of a smile just before he lunges for her throat.
"NO!" she screamed, sitting up in her bed like a bolt of lightening.
Shit!
She got up and ran to the closet. No body. She'd done it again.
What is wrong with me?? He's making me insane!
Just then she heard the main door click and in walked Lecter holding a small cardboard box holding two sturdy paper cups of tea and a couple wrapped pastries.
"Now now, Clarice. I thought I told you to rest? I hope you're feeling better, at least." He smiled at her.
"Yes," she mumbled looking down at the floor. "I feel much better, Doctor."
He smiled more widely. "Good." He turns his attention to the open closet door. "Now, tell me. What were you looking for in the closet?"
Clarice is slightly jolted by his question. "Nothing. I was just....looking for a jacket. I'm a little chilly."
Clarice places her hand on the closet doorknob to shut it and Lecter reaches out and places his hand firmly on hers. He grips her hand on the knob and proceeds to push the door shut. He sets the box down on the small table near the door.
"Here," he says, as he takes off his dark blue blazer that matches his trousers and the white shirt with dark pinstripes that's open at the collar, "Take my jacket."
He gentely turns Clarice around and helps her into the jacket. Clarice makes several attempts to say it isn't necessary for him to lend her his jacket, but he doesn't seem to hear her. She gives in and wears it, but can't help thinking how weird it felt to be inside something he's worn.
"Thank you" she said, even though she was only trying to sound polite.
Lecter picked up the box and lead her over to the sofa where they both sat inches apart from each other. He handed her a cup of tea and a wrapped pastry. She removed the lid from the cup and noticed it looked different from her usual tea.
"Doctor, what kind of tea is this? It looks like rasberry or something." She tried to hold it towards the light to get a better look, but the cup wasn't transparent, and it made it hard to tell what was so odd about the liquid.
Lecter sips his tea. "Just drink it, Clarice, it'll warm you up."
But I'm not cold!
Clarice sees that Lecter is growing impatient, so she sips her tea.
She chokes, "Blargh! This tastes like--"
"Blood?" Lecter smiled coyly at her.
Her face turned white. "YES!! You son of a bitch--" The red liquid spills all over the floor.
"Wait until you try the pastry" he said, pointing to the pastry, still concealed in its wrapper, on her lap.
Clarice unwrapped the pastry and found part of a man's hand, obviously belonging to the baker. She screamed and threw it across the room as she jumped up. She stumbled back and fell over the corner of the sofa.
Thud!
Clarice woke up on the hotel floor, next to the bed where Lecter had left her to take a nap. There was a light knock on the bedroom door and a voice, "Clarice?"
"Yeah?" she said, firmly.
Lecter walked into the room carrying two cups of tea. No box. No pastries.
Thank God.
"Clarice, what are you doing on the floor?" he asked as he sat the cups on the dresser where her gun was so he could look in the drawer and make sure she hadn't retrieved it while he was gone.
My gun! Why didn't I get my gun out of the drawer?? What am I thinking? I imagined all that stuff. Don't overreact. He hasn't done anything. Yet.
"I had a bad dream and I guess I just rolled right out of bed." She got up and sat on the edge of the bed.
"What was your dream about?" he asked, as he picked up the cups and made his way slowly to the bed.
"Uh, nothing. I mean, I don't remember now." She felt uneasy.
Lecter sat a foot away from her on the bed and handed her a cup. "Drink this. It'll make you feel better."
Clarice took the lid off and was relieved when she found nothing but ordinary looking tea. She took a sip. Just right. "Thank you, Doctor."
Lecter smiled at her. "Clarice?"
"Hm?" she hummed, in between sips.
"You should know, by now, that I can tell when you're lying to me." He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Now, tell me what your dream was about."
She knew she couldn't win. She could never beat him in a game of wits. "Well, I dreampt that you killed the bellhop and hid the body in the coat closet, and then I went to find it and it wasn't there, but you brought me a cup of blood and part of the baker's hand and then--"
"Clarice, please! I wouldn't waste my time or energy on a bellhop or a baker. You should know better than that." He was eerily calm, but he could see that Clarice was just the opposite.
Lecter sighed, stood up and waited for Clarice to follow him. He insisted on showing her the closet to prove that there was nothing there. After she saw for herself, she felt a little more at ease. And a bit foolish. She apologized for thinking he would do such a thing, and he took her back to the bedroom so she could lay back down.
"Perhaps you should rest a bit more, Clarice. Would you like me to get you something to help you sleep?" He tucked her in and stood beside the bed looking down at her.
"No thank you, Doctor. I'll be fine." She nuzzled her head into the pillow.
Lecter left the room and shut the door behind him. Clarice's head was throbbing again. She crawled out of bed and went into the bathroom. In the mirror she could see the bump protruding from her head.
Hello, week-long headache.
She washed her face and reached for a towel, but there wasn't one.
Figures.
She went over to the shower curtain and pulled it back, hoping to find a towel hanging there. Instead she found the mutilated body of the bellhop, wrapped in bloody hotel towels and stained red sheets.
"AAAAAAAAH!" she screamed and ran out of the bathroom, right into Lecter. "AAAAAAH! I knew you did it, you liar! Broken toilet, my ass! And it was you that slammed the door into my head, wasn't it!?" He reached out to grab her, and she stepped back into the bathroom and slammed the door into his face, knocking him onto the floor. "Two can play at that game!"
Riiiing! Riiiing!
Lecter shook his head clear. "That must be room service" he said.
Riiiing! Riiiing!
Clarice jumped over him and lept for the phone, but he grabbed her ankle and she dropped to the floor with a loud thud.
Riiiing! Riiiing!
"Let me go, you bastard!" she screeched.
"I don't think I will, Clarice." He tightened his grip and dragged her towards him.
Riiiing! Riiiing!
Lecter flipped her over and put all his weight on top of her. He looked her in the eyes, his teeth showing in an evil pre-bite position.
Riiiing! Riiiing!
"I'm sorry, Clarice" he purred, as his face drew nearer to hers.
Riiiing! Riiiing!
With all her might, she yelled, "NOOOOOOOO!" and shut her eyes tightly.
Riiiing! Riiiing!
She felt no pain. The weight from her body was gone. She slowly opened her eyes. The sight she saw was not Lecter. Not the hotel room. But her own apartment. She'd been dreaming the entire time.
Riiiing! Riiiing!
She looked at the phone. That's what triggered the whole dream. She thought about not answering it, but could tell she wasn't dreaming now. She picked up the phone, and in a whispered voice, she said, "Hello?"
"Hi, I'm calling on behalf of the Salvation Army. I'm confirming that you have some things to donate this month. One of our people will be over sometime today to pick it up, if they haven't been there already. Thanks for your donation. Have a nice day." Short but sweet.
Clarice hung up the phone and let out a sigh of relief.
Knock! Knock!
Nice timing.
She tried to fix her hair a bit as she walked to the kitchen, grabbed the bag of old clothes she was donating and shouted, "I'm coming! Just a second!"
She opened the door and was faced with the back of a man in a dark suit. She held out the bag of clothes. "Hi! I've been expecting you."
The man turned around and revealed a large grin. "I don't think so, Clarice."
"Doctor Lecter!"
The End.