The air was cold in the summer's night. A middle-aged man walked from the bar, his face covered in the glow from his phone as he messaged. Whoever he was talking to he didn't notice where he was going as he bumped into a person or two that were heading into the bar. He started walking in a general direction, possibly home.

There was a soft flirty wolf whistle from the shadows as he walked past a doorway. He stopped a looked around. The man squinted into the shadows as a long feminine arm exited the darkness and beckoned him forward with a finger.

He smiled foolishly and swayed over to her with a swagger in his step. He disappeared from the light of the street and followed her into the nearby alley.

After a moment or two of quiet in the darkness, there was a scream of horror from the man followed by a gurgle in the shout. Suddenly silence again and a thud before a slow dragging sound from the alley.

Will Graham woke hours later and miles away in a small hotel room to the sound of his phone ringing. He was dreading the day, possibly another murder scene and Jack breathing down his neck while Hannibal's eyes followed his every move. He checked his phone; Jack had already messaged him telling him to meet him at a street address, no house number.

He looked at the time. It was only seven in the morning, he sat up. He didn't wake in sweat today, but he had in the middle of the night. He felt gross so he hopped into the shower before he headed to his car, avoiding breakfast in case there was something stomach churning at the crime scene.

He focused on the road all the way to the scene, he didn't want his mind wandering to anything, especially what might be awaiting him.

He parked around the cops and police cars, recognizing Jack and Hannibal's cars respectively. He shook his head and flashed his badge as he stepped under the crime-scene tape. He really didn't want to see the body.

Jack wasn't too far from the tape, he was standing in the alley-way talking with Beverly pointing out places to scan for evidence.

"Jack," Will said politely, not wanting to interrupt.

"Hello Will," he responded a little-tired sounding. "Don't hold back, Bev."

She nodded, "Hey Will." and headed towards the alley, taking out her magnifying glass, snapping her goggles on.

"We have a fantasy type one today Will." Jack turned to the man as he pocketed glasses. "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Will said, taking a breath.

They walked into the alley together, there were long streaks of blood on the pavement, the body had been dragged. At the bend in the alley, on an offshoot was where the blood continued to point Will raised his head and his jaw fell open.

The middle-aged man was hung up on the wall by rope, electrical wire from a nearby building was wrapped around his neck to keep his head up. He was held in a crucifix pose. Arms outstretched, body hanging. His torso was stripped, he was barefoot and from his neck, a dark stain of blood.

He looked as if he had bled to death. The only real wound being a huge looking bite mark on his left of him where his shoulder met his neck.

"What do you think?" Hannibal asked. The foreign man was admiring the body, he turned to Will, awaiting a response.

Will closed his eyes, getting into the mindset of the killer.

He could see the night, the man passing the alley, the woman beckoning him over. And when he was brought into darkness the woman showed her strength; she kissed his neck once to relax her prey and then bit it hard if she had fangs he didn't know. The man screamed and fraught for a moment before gurgling his own blood and falling limp. He was a big man so he fell under her. She snapped on gloves and dragged his body away from the street, huffing as she pulled him up into the shape she wanted. Using wire cutters for around the neck and stripping him of his shirt so the wound was visible, she threw his top, socks and shoes into a pile and set it on fire, before throwing the gloves in and finally the match.

Will opened his eyes again, Hannibal still eyeing him with curiosity.

"Check the ashes in front of the body." Will looked over the victim. "She tried to burn her gloves in there, there might be something there."

"It was a woman?" Jack asked incredulously.

"Yes, a white female." Will looked over the body. "Vampirism is a sensual act. She bit his neck." he pointed out the wound. "Probably not for blood but he lost a lot and there aren't pools of it everywhere around the murder scene."

Hannibal chuckled, "So this woman believes herself a vampire?" he mused. "Then what of the Jesus symbolism?" he asked.

"Jesus was executed with criminals on either side of him," he stated, putting on his glasses again. "She's sending us a message that this man walked among us as a criminal. A monster like her."

There was quiet. Everyone let the words sink in when Zeller waltzed over. "You'll be happy to know, this man was a criminal," he announced. "We ran his prints through the databases and already got a call; he's a registered paedophile and has been incarcerated for one thing after another. Drugs, murder, rape, fraud, tax evasion. He might as well be the killer himself."

"She's saying he's brought it on himself." Will said to the group. "This vampiress is cleaning the world of criminals; she's warning the others that they're next."

Melody Milan brushed her hair, she had a rough week of restless sleep but she was heading back to school, back to training for the FBI.

She pulled her hair into a pony and grabbed her bag and keys as she left her little apartment. Only class today was with her favourite teacher, Will Graham.

She wanted to pick his brain desperately but never got a chance to. Today, as she started her car heading for campus she set out to do just that after today's lecture. She knew her teacher wasn't social but she just wanted to ask him about the last assignment.

She pulled into the parking lot. Parked quickly and almost sprinted to her class. Sitting at the very front of the lecture hall so she could get to him while everyone left.

She waited through the lecture about a recent killing, one of a man who had bled to death from a bite and then was hung. She examined the pictures, keeping a mental note of every detail. Finally, he dismissed the class and she bounded up to him.

"Mr Graham?" she asked, looking at him expectantly as everyone filtered out.

"Yes?" he said, putting his papers away.

"I'd like to talk about today's assignment." she started.

"Why?" he asked, not looking at her, looking around her instead. "You're the smartest one in the class. Why is it so hard to imagine how this woman came to murder the victim?"

She smiled, he knew she was a lady. "Because police records on this criminal weren't public." she crossed her arms. "Either she is or was part of one of his arrests or all of them, or she was a victim of his, or she has access to his records."

Will blinked and looked up, avoiding her eyes; "Are you saying this murderer is a cop?" he asked surprised.

"Or ex-cop." she added. "He's been on parole from the sounds of it. Maybe his parole officer let it slip, people don't run around announcing they're pedophilles or killers."

Will blinked and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, he then looked into her eyes and almost gasped, his mouth open.

"And..." he said slowly. "What about students for the FBI or local police academy? They would have access to."

She smiled genuinely. "That opens dozens of people who could have committed it then professor." she gazed into his eyes back. "Unless this murderer slips up who knows. Thanks for the insight."

She waved at the professor as she walked out. Around the corner from the hall, she bumped into a man in a maroon suit.

"Terribly sorry, sir." she gasped, picking up her papers.

"Oh, the fault is mine, my lady," he said, in a thick foreign accent, picking up a book of hers. "I was in a rush myself."

He looked at the cover of the physiology book she had before handing it back.

"You take Will Graham's lecture?" he asked, fixing the button on his suit jacket.

"Yes." she smiled. "He's my favourite teacher here. I'm almost done my training, I'm working to get into the Behavioural Science Unit."

His smile widened, "That's fortunate. I'm good friends with the head of the department, Jack Crawford. I would love to put in a good word Miss..?"

"Oh," she shook her head and extended her hand, swinging her bag back so it didn't intrude. "Melody Milan, and who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

"Doctor Hannibal Lectre." he took her hand and shook it, a twinkle of amusement in his eye. "The pleasure is mine young lady. I work alongside Mr Graham in the field when I am not busy elsewhere."

She smiled, "I need to get to my last class." she waved her hand to the end of the hall casually. "But I do hope we cross paths again Doctor."

He nodded, "As do I."