Two Days

Two days.

It had been two days since Will had, once again, started to feel the need to wrap his fingers around the handle of a knife, slowly drive the knife into someone's - anyone's - stomach, or chest, twist the knife around while it stuck inside of the victim at the same speed he'd pushed the knife through flesh and muscle, before yanking it out viciously; no mercy demonstrated in his actions.

It worried him, but only a little bit, that he was supposed to be empathic towards these people, that he imagined murdering by his own hand.

He hadn't understood it, at first, how he could be empathic towards some people in everyday, normal situations, but not everybody. Or rather, he could be empathic towards people, but not people who tried to harm him, or his family.

His family was ever growing, it seemed. Hannibal had been his only family, at the start, along with his dogs. The pack of dogs had had a couple of new additions in the time after - Dio and Mozart - but there was a plan for Will to take on two more. Then there were the kids Hannibal had helped from each of their own dire situations; Willow, Jacob, James, and so on and so forth.

Ever since he and Hannibal had discussed the thought of marriage, a few weeks before Hannibal had actually popped the question, they'd always agreed that neither wanted kids together, kids of their own flesh and blood. They'd both had differing reasons for this.

Will didn't want kids of his own because he didn't feel like he'd be a good enough parent, he often thought back to how badly he'd managed to take care of human Winston and thought that their decision was the right one to take. Hannibal didn't want them to have kids together because - and it was probably seen as a selfish reason to some - he only wanted to have Will as his family, to only take care of Will.

Another family member for Will was his own pet, Graham Crackers. It was like looking into a mirror or himself sometimes; they were in the same position when it came to pleasing their Master, except that Will and Crackers' relationship was a strictly non-sexual one.

Rules were still in place, as they were supposed to be, but if Crackers wished to relieve sexual urges then Will would allow him to do so as he couldn't provide them himself - as was the agreement he'd made with Hannibal right from the very beginning of Crackers wanting to be Will's pet - as long as he asked for permission first.

Crackers met a man named Aiden a few weeks prior to the point he was at now. He allowed them to begin dating, as long as Aiden promised - and kept the promise - not to hurt his pet. It was perhaps a couple of weeks later until something happened. Nothing major. Just a trip of his pet, yet it was done on purpose. Will spoke to Aiden, warned him not to do it again. Already, Ignis - his own subcon matched to and mated with Hannibal's Wendigo - was beginning to rear his head as Will had looked the other man over, a growl rising up in his throat.

He was a protective man, by any means, was Will Graham. He was even more protective when it came to his family and friends, and if anyone tried to harm them then, well, they'd be finished. For sure.

It wasn't long before Crackers came to harm, in one of the worst ways possible, due to Aiden. Crackers had no idea what Aiden had done to him - after being asked by the latter if he could speak to him - only to be injected and drugged to be knocked out. Crackers had come to Will the next day, distressed, mainly due to not knowing what exactly had happened to him while he'd been drugged, and Will vowed to find Aiden. He found Aiden - of course he did - in an abandoned warehouse and quickly got to the bottom of what exactly he'd done to Will's pet.

Drugged and raped.

Those words rang in Will's ears. He'd been in that same position with Mark as Crackers had been with Aiden, except that Will had been awake - wide awake - when Mark had viciously attacked him and filmed it; for all of the internet to see, as long as they'd paid.

He felt his fingers wrap around Aiden's throat, he felt himself backing Aiden up against the wall, he felt his hand squeeze to bruise and almost crush Aiden's windpipe, he felt his fingers wrap around the handle of his knife, he felt the blade of the knife slowly push through flesh, he felt the twist of the blade like a corkscrew, he felt himself yank the knife out and he saw the blade covered in blood, he saw the blood pouring from the wound, much like a bloody Niagra Falls, and he let Aiden's dying body fall to the floor after one last squeeze to his gasping throat.

He watched as the light died from the other man's eyes and before he even knew what he was doing he let his tongue run along the blade to taste his victim's blood. It was sick, he knew that, but he couldn't stop himself from doing so. He'd done it when he'd killed his father, when he'd killed that woman nosing around in the woods hoping to find any evidence of something he couldn't even remember if he'd done it or not, and he'd done it to other victim's that he and Hannibal had taken together.

He felt like that now. He felt a deep, gut wrenching urge that had him slipping out of the house to stalk to the woods, hoping that there'd be a nameless victim wandering around the environment for him to kill, for him to become the animal he knew deep down that he was. It didn't take long to find this victim.

It was quick. It was merciless.

It satisfied him deep down.

It was everything he was.

It was everything he had become.

It was Will. It was Hannibal.

It was Wendigo. It was Ignis.

It was everything he was going to become, and Will welcomed it.