Club Chaos | New York City | November 13
This would soon become the worst night of Hannibal’s life.
The club was one he hadn’t been to before and, after this week, Hannibal felt the need to go out and be amongst people. He couldn’t hear himself over the music and was pretty sure his heartbeat had fallen into tune with the booming bass.
It was dark. The interior of the club was lit by occasional slashes of yellow, red, and blue light. It gave everything an eerie, deathly glow. There were bodies on the dance floor, moving to and fro. Hannibal didn’t know their names but he found himself watching anyway, eyes falling on both male and female, rhythmic and not. He wondered where they’d go after the club closed. He wondered if they had families or if they were lonely like he was. He wondered if this was their stress relief.
Hannibal wasn’t dancing. He was at the bar, back against the counter and eyes flicking around the crowd. He wasn’t really looking for anything but a night out. He just needed a night where his mind wasn’t heavy with worry and stress.
"Buy you a drink, pretty?" a voice from the left of him called. For a second, Hannibal didn’t think that question was for him but he turned anyway, eyes falling on a pale woman with dark eyeliner and even darker hair. He thought she might have smiled but he couldn’t tell.
"Make it something good and yeah," Hannibal said, falling naturally into that all too familiar persona of charming flirt. If it was going to get him free drinks, then he’d flirt with anyone. "Thanks."
The woman said nothing as she turned, motioning to the bartender in one smooth motion. Before Hannibal even knew it, that drink was pressed into his hand and the woman’s fingers were around his wrist. She was cold. His wrist chilled under her grip but he chalked it up to the weather outside.
"Good enough for you?" she asked, eyes shadowed. There was a brief glint of white but it was gone.
"Good enough," Hannibal said, toasting her with his glass and taking a long sip. It was strong and it burned going down his throat. It spread out in his belly, making him feel a lot hotter than he’d been before. He thought he might have been sweating.
The woman laughed throatily and stepped closer to Hannibal. He could feel the length of her pressed against his side. She was relaxed like this was natural.
"You always buy drinks for guys you don’t know in clubs?" Hannibal asked, glancing down at her. "Bet that makes you friends."
"Sometimes," she replied, shrugging one slender shoulder. "You always accept drinks from girls you don’t know?"
"Sometimes," Hannibal mimicked, smirking. He took another long drink and found it burned less. "If she’s hot, yeah. I find that tends to lead to more fun things than not."
"Mmm." When her fingers tucked into the waistband of his pants, Hannibal raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "You think this is going to lead to something fun?"
Hannibal finished his drink. "I hope so."
---
Her name was Danica Talos and she’d somehow managed to convince him to dance with her. Hannibal was going to blame the drinks she’d bought him and the fact that he was weak and lonely and just wanted to have fun.
She plastered herself against him, hips moving suggestively and making Hannibal sweat even more than he already had. His mind was blissfully blank, almost foggy, and he couldn’t quite remember important things. Friends, family, anything. They were all gone, locked away in a place he couldn’t touch.
He danced, only seeing his new friend in front of him. He laughed when she licked his neck and smirked when her fingers found his pulse. He was alive, he was more alive than he’d felt in awhile.
"You’ve got a fucking gorgeous neck," she murmured in his ear. "I want to fucking bite it."
Hannibal laughed and missed the devious, dangerous glint in Danica’s eyes. He thought she was joking. He had no idea she wasn’t. Hannibal kept moving but actually tilted his head back, exposing more of his neck playfully.
It was like gift wrapping a prized possession. The music seemed to increase in volume and his ears filled with it. He couldn’t hear anything but the music and couldn’t feel anything but Danica’s mouth at his neck.
He laughed, still dancing and now expecting her to leave a hickey or to just lick the hell out of his neck. He’d never known a girl with a neck fetish.
She didn’t lick his neck.
At first, Hannibal thought she was just nipping him. Then, there was pain. Sharp, sharp pain and Hannibal realized this wasn’t a nip. This wasn’t even a bite, this was something else. He could feel warm, wet trails of liquid sliding down his skin and he twitched, not really able to focus enough to do more than feel pain and stand there. The drink. There had been something in that drink.
Danica kept biting and he could feel fangs now, feel them embedded in his neck. His eyes were wide with horror and fear. He felt fucking stupid and helpless. He was going to die. That’s what was happening. He was dying in the middle of a busy club and no one could tell.
He gurgled, trying to stop this but his limbs felt heavy and leaded. He couldn’t breathe. The blood was soaking into the collar of his shirt and his vision was getting foggy. Danica kept feeding. Hannibal blinked slowly and the music suddenly stopped.
Later, Hannibal wouldn’t remember that he passed out.
---
When Hannibal woke up, he was outside the club, sitting in a heap against the wall. He blinked and his eyes focused quickly. It was dark but Hannibal could see everything. Danica Talos was standing above him.
"Come on, pretty," she said and her voice was no longer sweet or flirtatious. It was an order. Hannibal listened immediately. He got to his feet, feeling the strength returning tenfold to his limbs. Danica’s smirk was all together too smug. She crooked a finger and started walking off down a dark valley.
Hannibal followed. Everything seemed sharper to him right now. He felt like he could hear everything, see everything, and do anything. The fangs in his mouth were new. He ran his tongue over them, hard enough to draw blood.
He smiled.
[NFB, NFI. OOC welcome, though! Cut for length, descriptions of violence and cruelty to my boy. There will be a post following this one explaining the changes in this post. Oh yes, I did it. Now, the fun begins.]
The club was one he hadn’t been to before and, after this week, Hannibal felt the need to go out and be amongst people. He couldn’t hear himself over the music and was pretty sure his heartbeat had fallen into tune with the booming bass.
It was dark. The interior of the club was lit by occasional slashes of yellow, red, and blue light. It gave everything an eerie, deathly glow. There were bodies on the dance floor, moving to and fro. Hannibal didn’t know their names but he found himself watching anyway, eyes falling on both male and female, rhythmic and not. He wondered where they’d go after the club closed. He wondered if they had families or if they were lonely like he was. He wondered if this was their stress relief.
Hannibal wasn’t dancing. He was at the bar, back against the counter and eyes flicking around the crowd. He wasn’t really looking for anything but a night out. He just needed a night where his mind wasn’t heavy with worry and stress.
"Buy you a drink, pretty?" a voice from the left of him called. For a second, Hannibal didn’t think that question was for him but he turned anyway, eyes falling on a pale woman with dark eyeliner and even darker hair. He thought she might have smiled but he couldn’t tell.
"Make it something good and yeah," Hannibal said, falling naturally into that all too familiar persona of charming flirt. If it was going to get him free drinks, then he’d flirt with anyone. "Thanks."
The woman said nothing as she turned, motioning to the bartender in one smooth motion. Before Hannibal even knew it, that drink was pressed into his hand and the woman’s fingers were around his wrist. She was cold. His wrist chilled under her grip but he chalked it up to the weather outside.
"Good enough for you?" she asked, eyes shadowed. There was a brief glint of white but it was gone.
"Good enough," Hannibal said, toasting her with his glass and taking a long sip. It was strong and it burned going down his throat. It spread out in his belly, making him feel a lot hotter than he’d been before. He thought he might have been sweating.
The woman laughed throatily and stepped closer to Hannibal. He could feel the length of her pressed against his side. She was relaxed like this was natural.
"You always buy drinks for guys you don’t know in clubs?" Hannibal asked, glancing down at her. "Bet that makes you friends."
"Sometimes," she replied, shrugging one slender shoulder. "You always accept drinks from girls you don’t know?"
"Sometimes," Hannibal mimicked, smirking. He took another long drink and found it burned less. "If she’s hot, yeah. I find that tends to lead to more fun things than not."
"Mmm." When her fingers tucked into the waistband of his pants, Hannibal raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "You think this is going to lead to something fun?"
Hannibal finished his drink. "I hope so."
---
Her name was Danica Talos and she’d somehow managed to convince him to dance with her. Hannibal was going to blame the drinks she’d bought him and the fact that he was weak and lonely and just wanted to have fun.
She plastered herself against him, hips moving suggestively and making Hannibal sweat even more than he already had. His mind was blissfully blank, almost foggy, and he couldn’t quite remember important things. Friends, family, anything. They were all gone, locked away in a place he couldn’t touch.
He danced, only seeing his new friend in front of him. He laughed when she licked his neck and smirked when her fingers found his pulse. He was alive, he was more alive than he’d felt in awhile.
"You’ve got a fucking gorgeous neck," she murmured in his ear. "I want to fucking bite it."
Hannibal laughed and missed the devious, dangerous glint in Danica’s eyes. He thought she was joking. He had no idea she wasn’t. Hannibal kept moving but actually tilted his head back, exposing more of his neck playfully.
It was like gift wrapping a prized possession. The music seemed to increase in volume and his ears filled with it. He couldn’t hear anything but the music and couldn’t feel anything but Danica’s mouth at his neck.
He laughed, still dancing and now expecting her to leave a hickey or to just lick the hell out of his neck. He’d never known a girl with a neck fetish.
She didn’t lick his neck.
At first, Hannibal thought she was just nipping him. Then, there was pain. Sharp, sharp pain and Hannibal realized this wasn’t a nip. This wasn’t even a bite, this was something else. He could feel warm, wet trails of liquid sliding down his skin and he twitched, not really able to focus enough to do more than feel pain and stand there. The drink. There had been something in that drink.
Danica kept biting and he could feel fangs now, feel them embedded in his neck. His eyes were wide with horror and fear. He felt fucking stupid and helpless. He was going to die. That’s what was happening. He was dying in the middle of a busy club and no one could tell.
He gurgled, trying to stop this but his limbs felt heavy and leaded. He couldn’t breathe. The blood was soaking into the collar of his shirt and his vision was getting foggy. Danica kept feeding. Hannibal blinked slowly and the music suddenly stopped.
Later, Hannibal wouldn’t remember that he passed out.
---
When Hannibal woke up, he was outside the club, sitting in a heap against the wall. He blinked and his eyes focused quickly. It was dark but Hannibal could see everything. Danica Talos was standing above him.
"Come on, pretty," she said and her voice was no longer sweet or flirtatious. It was an order. Hannibal listened immediately. He got to his feet, feeling the strength returning tenfold to his limbs. Danica’s smirk was all together too smug. She crooked a finger and started walking off down a dark valley.
Hannibal followed. Everything seemed sharper to him right now. He felt like he could hear everything, see everything, and do anything. The fangs in his mouth were new. He ran his tongue over them, hard enough to draw blood.
He smiled.
[NFB, NFI. OOC welcome, though! Cut for length, descriptions of violence and cruelty to my boy. There will be a post following this one explaining the changes in this post. Oh yes, I did it. Now, the fun begins.]