Deep in some woodlands, an old house was build, it's path was no longer in sight due to the course of time; the afternoon sun was overhead, it done nothing to lighten the place, instead making the darken windows appear more darker because light spilled everywhere around the house but not in. The group of heavily armed men kneed down low, slowly moving forward silently; their eyes never leaving the front door of the old abandoned house. The weeds and plants that overgrown the porch, as well as the wooden stairs that lead up to the porch.

A crackling of their earpieces sounded, someone was about to speak.

Stopping the men came to a halt, waiting for the person on the other end to told and to give orders.

A woman spoke, softly and breathlessly; the men listened to her instructions, and together they leaped up and rushed towards the porch. One by one they went up the stairs, the first one to the door slammed his shoulder against it, causing it to go flying, because rust had ate away at the metal.

The filed into the house, guns high; the smell of blood was thick in the air, overpowering their nose, causing their stomachs to curl within.

At last they reached the place where the woman was, however they did not think she would be standing out in the open.

The woman now walks further into the room, feeling more brave with the FBI officers and normal police officers at her back; hanging from the ceiling with butchers hooks was three bodies, all missing parts. The blood on the floor and walls that long dried and became an odd colour of black in the centre, moving to brown on the outer rings of the blots.

One of the men, one of the youngest of the group, could not hold it any more; lower his gun he turns and bends over and empties the contains of his stomach right on the crime scene.

"Get out." One of the older men hisses to the younger. Ashamed face the man who vomited quickly leaves the room.

They glance back to the woman, she was sitting on her knees staring down at what appeared to be a forth body; silence filled the room suddenly as they all held their breathes in shock.

Laying on his back was the man they had been hunting; Hannibal Lecter.

The cannibal lay unmoving, gazing with unseeing eyes up at the ceiling. At first glance he appealed to be dead, however on a closer look, his chest gently rose up and down. A light twisted smile was upon his lips, his fingers twitched lightly now and again.

"What's wrong with him?" One officer says in a hush tone, almost like they were not meant to speck normally.

"Make the call." Another officer said quickly to the woman on the ground, completely disregarding what the other had asked. The woman listens to his voice and brings out her phone, after tapping on the numbers she placed it to her ear and waited.

XD~DX

Hannibal Lecter was back to where he belonged. Behind bars and being watched at all hours. The difference from before however, he was on an hospital like bed with wires and tubes sticking out from him everywhere.

His eyes still stared ahead of him, seeing something only he could see. But now the man had lose the colour of his flesh and some fat of his body; making his appearance to be like a living skeleton.

"So? What are the results?" Agent Clarice Starling asks as she leans against the glass to Lecter's room, staring at the man. Two doctors stood facing the glass, a table was before them as they placed their files down.

"Spongiform degeneration of the brain," The first doctor answers her, he played around with some files and bought out an brain image, "Creutzfeldt Jakob disease."

"What does that all mean?" Agent Starling questions, annoyed for some reason.

"Prion related diseases happen in animals that practice cannibalism." The other doctor says, nodding his head as if agreeing with himself, "So it's unsurprising that this can come about in a human."

"Still. What's happening?" Agent Starling says, she pushing herself off the glass and walks the short way over to them and glances down at the black images that looked like a lot of blur to her,"Telling me the names of these diseases are meaningless if I not know what they do."

"His brain has holes in it." The first doctor, he held up one sheet with the images on, "The grey matter of his brain is being eaten away."

"...Is he always going to be like this?" Agent Starling asks turning back to look at the once brilliant man, who now lay in a dreamlike state.

"Agent Starling, you are aware why we're here, yes?" The first doctor asks, frowning deepen at the woman, "Hannibal Lecter is dead to the world, his body is going to be used in research."

Agent Starling glances away, it was horrible thinking that a human being was plainly going to be used like a lab rat. But there was nothing she could do to stop this, the case was closed and he was dead on record, whatever happened now was no longer count as being done to a fellow human.

'Sometimes I wonder, who are the monsters of this world...' Agent Starling thinks as a group of people, dressed in overalls came in and headed for the room.