Reckoning Tartare with a Side of Tater Tots
word-count: ~2k
characters: Venom|Eddie Brock, Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter
genre:gen, R
warnings: show and movie typical violence, cannibalism
#
The room was ludicrous, Eddie thought to himself-cavernous, with thirty-foot ceilings. The cages where the Baltimore State Hospital For The Criminally Insane kept its patients during visitations were spaced twenty feet apart, making the whole thing look more like a demented art installation than a mental health facility. Only one cage was inhabited currently, by the man Eddie had come to interview.
Will Graham was a haunted man. He wore his pain like a cloak, for all to see. When Eddie came closer, and sat across from his cage, Will looked at him and startled, like he’d caught a glimpse of Venom, though the symbiote was thoroughly hidden, curled inside Eddie, content and silent for the moment.
But whatever shock Will had passed soon; the look he gave Eddie became bitter and untrusting. “You must be Eddie Brock, the reporter who came all the way from New York to hear my story.”
“I did indeed.”
“Want something to shock your readers? Want to ask me about why I chose my victims, or what sick, twisted childhood made me into such a monster?”
“No. I want to know who chose you as their scapegoat. And why.”
Will’s eyebrows crept up. “You’re serious?”
Eddie nodded.
“Why are you interested in my side of the story, Mr. Brock?”
“Because I know you’re an innocent man.”
“How?”
“Nothing lines up. You were a profiler. A damn good one, too. But it’s more than that.” Eddie gave Will a once-over. “These crimes, the Chesapeake Ripper, they have a signature, and it doesn’t fit your hand, at all. So I ask you again, because I’m pretty sure you know: Who set you up?”
“Hannibal Lecter.”
“Why?”
“Because he was angry with me. And because he needed someone to take the fall.”
“Tell me about Mr. Lecter.”
“Doctor Lecter.”
“Doctor.”
“He’s a psychiatrist. Brilliant. Manipulative. He has impeccable taste in clothing and a complete intolerance for rude behavior.”
“And?”
“He’s careful. No fingerprints except for those he wants you to find. No trace of what he’s done. He doesn’t have a signature, he has dozens.”
“How was he able to frame you?”
“I trusted him.” Will laughed, a dry, brittle sound. “He’s not just a psychopath, Mr. Brock. Dr. Lecter is a shadow. He’s the Devil.”
“Is he?”
“He will only allow you to see what he wants you to see. And if he suspects you suspect him, he’ll slit your throat before you can blink.”
“Then I won’t blink.”
How does not blinking help?
It’s an expression. Eddie stood and put away his notes. “I’ll see you again soon, Will.”
“Unless the Devil cuts you down.” Will cocked his head.
“He won’t,” Eddie said, and hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.
“I hope you’re right.”
#
“A tragedy, what happened with Will Graham,” Hannibal said as he set down their plates. “He was a dear friend.”
Eddie stared at the food. It looked far too beautiful to be edible, like a plate of sculptures: spiced meats arranged in perfect arcs surrounded by decorative slices of some kind of speckled fruit he’d never even seen before and it all smelled insanely good. Spices he didn’t know the name for, and the still sizzling meat made his drool well up. But he had work to do. That’s why he was here, after all. “He was a patient of yours, too, wasn’t he?”
“Former patient.” Hannibal gestured at the plate. “Please, the stuffed hearts are best when still warm from the oven."
Eddie nodded and speared a piece of meat on his fork. It was heaven. Wine-drenched and rich, and somehow, it tasted a hundred times better than it smelled, making it easily the best thing he’d ever eaten. He had to seriously restrain himself to keep from wolfing it down, and chewed with what he considered remarkable restraint. Venom perked up at the taste, too, stirring inside of him. “So did you have any idea Will had such a dark side?”
“Of course. In his line of work it is impossible not to.”
“How do you mean?”
“Will does not only harbor a fascination with killers, Mr. Brock, he identifies with them. He sees himself performing their acts, intimately understands their motives.”
“That must be why he’s such a good profiler.”
“That is precisely why. Tragically, Will’s understanding turned into an obsession, and that obsession led to action. He could no longer resist his urges, and acted on them. Repeatedly.”
Eddie.
Eddie ate another piece of meat, repressing a moan of sheer bliss, and then asked, “When did you first suspect Will Graham might be the Chesapeake Ripper?”
Eddie!
Not now. I’m working.
“There were several moments in our sessions that gave me pause, but it was his behavior on the scene of a crime that proved it beyond-
EDDIE!
What?
This meat.
It’s really friggin good, I know.
It’s human meat.
Eddie stopped mid-chew. What do you mean?
Don’t be an idiot. Human hearts have an unmistakable flavor.
“What’d you say the name of this dish was, again, Dr. Lecter?” Eddie asked, the rest of his forkful of food lodged in his cheek. Yes, he’d technically eaten humans before, but Venom typically slung them down their gullet like a snake. And Eddie had certainly never had stuffed roast heart with deviled kidneys and garlic liver pâté before.
“It’s an old recipe….” Hannibal cocked an eyebrow. “I can share it with you, if you’d like.”
“Yeah, that’d be great-this is, it’s just I’ve never had anything so flavorful.”
“Thank you, Mr. Brock. If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, I need to check on our dessert dish, creme brûlée with a wild berry compote.” Hannibal stood, and for just a heartbeat, Eddie caught a glimpse of something cold and dangerous there. He knew. He knew that Eddie knew.
Humans do not typically eat other humans.
No, they do not. Will Graham was right. Doctor Lecter killed all those people. He eats them, that’s how he gets rid of the bodies.
Then that makes him a bad guy, yes?
A very bad guy. But we’ve gotta find evidence first. Help Will Graham clear his name.
Why?
Because it’s the decent thing to do. Eddie stood, sliding the chair back as silently as he could, and headed for the unremarkable door they’d passed on the way in. It had set off all his alarm bells, though he wasn’t entirely sure why at the time. Now he suspected he knew why. He opened the door without making a sound, and headed downstairs into the basement. The lights flicked on when he reached the bottom, motion-sensitive, revealing what looked like a butcher shop-wooden work tables, a bone saw and two oversized refrigerators. Eddie opened the one closest to him and had to swallow back a mouthful of bile at what he saw.
A head!
“Yup. And that’s not all.” Eddie grimly took note of all the other body parts inside and pulled out his phone to take a few quick shots. He didn’t have long.
Venom shot out a tendril, nudging at an arm with the hand still attached. Eddie look, finger food!
“Hush.”
We can dip them in the garlic liver pâté!
“Absolutely not.”
Joking. Humans taste far better alive anyway. Especially the limbs, when they’re still squirming.
“We gotta get back upstairs quick, before-“
“It’s quite rude to go wandering through someone’s house without permission.” Hannibal said from behind them; he was holding a very large knife, that glinted in the lights of the basement. “Who were you talking to just now, Mr. Brock?”
“My other half,” Eddie said, lips curving slowly as Venom began to pool in his hands. “Want to psychoanalyze me, doctor?”
“With those shoes and that terrible suit, I have serious doubts you can afford me.”
Eddie side-stepped as Hannibal lunged forward, sending him crashing into one of the tables. But Hannibal recovered quickly and thrust the blade out again, bringing the knife up in a quick arc, meant to slice open Eddie’s midsection. Instead, Venom flung forth a tendril and grabbed Hannibal’s wrist, holding it in their iron grip as they spilled out over Eddie.
“That’s okay.” Eddie huffed a laugh that became a deep-throated rumble as Venom encased him in full. They grew to their full height, head nearly grazing the basement’s ceiling. “We don’t want your help.”
“What are you?” Hannibal asked, and to his credit, he didn’t sound even a little scared. He seemed intrigued, more than anything else.
“Your reckoning.” Venom opened their jaws wide and bit down, tearing Hannibal’s head free from his spine.
#
Will was waiting for Eddie, no longer dressed in an institutional jumpsuit, but in a pair of slacks and a sweater that made him look far more like the weary professor he purported to be. “The police tell me Hannibal lost his head,” Will said to Eddie, by way of greeting.
“He did.”
Will nodded, and his smile flickered briefly to something wider and far more vicious. “Good. I wish I’d been there to see it.”
“It’s probably better that you weren’t,” Eddie said. “For your criminal record, anyway.”
“So you went into the Devil’s house and survived unscathed.” Will cocked his head. “At least outwardly.”
“He had to be brought to justice, and somebody like that-prison wouldn’t hold him for long.”
“You’re right about that.” Will swallowed and nodded, head bowed. When he looked back up, the fury had vanished and his eyes were red and shining. “Thank you. Whatever you did, however you did it.”
“You’re welcome,” Venom said, emerging from Eddie’s shoulder.
Will paled for a second, blinked and looked at Eddie, as though to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. “I guess we’ve all got a darkness inside of us.” He paused, and added, “how do you make it work?”
Eddie shrugged. “Open communication. And lots of chocolate.”
“And punishing the wicked,” Venom opened their jaws, both a grin and a show of teeth.
Will smiled back at them. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
A surly-looking guard handed Will a vacuum-sealed bag holding his belongings and gestured towards the door.
“Guess I’m free to go,” Will said, and headed for a woman with long dark hair that was waiting on the other side of the lobby.
Eddie watched them leave, relishing the feeling of a job well done. They’d caught the bad guy, stopped him from killing any other people and set an innocent man free.
“We are losing our touch.”
“We are?” Eddie huffed a laugh. “How so? I think we did great today.”
“Will Graham did not seem the least bit intimidated by us.”
“Well, we cleared his name and got him released. There’s no reason for him to be.”
“But we even did the scary face!” To emphasize their point, Venom expanded their head and opened their jaws wide again, tongue lashing.
Eddie kissed them where their nose would be. “Yes, very scary.”
“You are mocking me.”
“I would never.” Eddie pushed opened the door and sucked in a breath of crisp fall air. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Garlic liver pâté with roast-“
“Whoa, whoa no-“
“Fine. Tater tots then. And jalapeño poppers.”
“That’s more like it.” Eddie climbed on his motorcycle as Venom formed a jacket and helmet around him. The highway was clear and the fall air felt crisp and cool. Eddie relished the feeling and the lingering sense of a job well done.
“Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s Creme brûlée?”
characters: Venom|Eddie Brock, Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter
genre:gen, R
warnings: show and movie typical violence, cannibalism
#
The room was ludicrous, Eddie thought to himself-cavernous, with thirty-foot ceilings. The cages where the Baltimore State Hospital For The Criminally Insane kept its patients during visitations were spaced twenty feet apart, making the whole thing look more like a demented art installation than a mental health facility. Only one cage was inhabited currently, by the man Eddie had come to interview.
Will Graham was a haunted man. He wore his pain like a cloak, for all to see. When Eddie came closer, and sat across from his cage, Will looked at him and startled, like he’d caught a glimpse of Venom, though the symbiote was thoroughly hidden, curled inside Eddie, content and silent for the moment.
But whatever shock Will had passed soon; the look he gave Eddie became bitter and untrusting. “You must be Eddie Brock, the reporter who came all the way from New York to hear my story.”
“I did indeed.”
“Want something to shock your readers? Want to ask me about why I chose my victims, or what sick, twisted childhood made me into such a monster?”
“No. I want to know who chose you as their scapegoat. And why.”
Will’s eyebrows crept up. “You’re serious?”
Eddie nodded.
“Why are you interested in my side of the story, Mr. Brock?”
“Because I know you’re an innocent man.”
“How?”
“Nothing lines up. You were a profiler. A damn good one, too. But it’s more than that.” Eddie gave Will a once-over. “These crimes, the Chesapeake Ripper, they have a signature, and it doesn’t fit your hand, at all. So I ask you again, because I’m pretty sure you know: Who set you up?”
“Hannibal Lecter.”
“Why?”
“Because he was angry with me. And because he needed someone to take the fall.”
“Tell me about Mr. Lecter.”
“Doctor Lecter.”
“Doctor.”
“He’s a psychiatrist. Brilliant. Manipulative. He has impeccable taste in clothing and a complete intolerance for rude behavior.”
“And?”
“He’s careful. No fingerprints except for those he wants you to find. No trace of what he’s done. He doesn’t have a signature, he has dozens.”
“How was he able to frame you?”
“I trusted him.” Will laughed, a dry, brittle sound. “He’s not just a psychopath, Mr. Brock. Dr. Lecter is a shadow. He’s the Devil.”
“Is he?”
“He will only allow you to see what he wants you to see. And if he suspects you suspect him, he’ll slit your throat before you can blink.”
“Then I won’t blink.”
How does not blinking help?
It’s an expression. Eddie stood and put away his notes. “I’ll see you again soon, Will.”
“Unless the Devil cuts you down.” Will cocked his head.
“He won’t,” Eddie said, and hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.
“I hope you’re right.”
#
“A tragedy, what happened with Will Graham,” Hannibal said as he set down their plates. “He was a dear friend.”
Eddie stared at the food. It looked far too beautiful to be edible, like a plate of sculptures: spiced meats arranged in perfect arcs surrounded by decorative slices of some kind of speckled fruit he’d never even seen before and it all smelled insanely good. Spices he didn’t know the name for, and the still sizzling meat made his drool well up. But he had work to do. That’s why he was here, after all. “He was a patient of yours, too, wasn’t he?”
“Former patient.” Hannibal gestured at the plate. “Please, the stuffed hearts are best when still warm from the oven."
Eddie nodded and speared a piece of meat on his fork. It was heaven. Wine-drenched and rich, and somehow, it tasted a hundred times better than it smelled, making it easily the best thing he’d ever eaten. He had to seriously restrain himself to keep from wolfing it down, and chewed with what he considered remarkable restraint. Venom perked up at the taste, too, stirring inside of him. “So did you have any idea Will had such a dark side?”
“Of course. In his line of work it is impossible not to.”
“How do you mean?”
“Will does not only harbor a fascination with killers, Mr. Brock, he identifies with them. He sees himself performing their acts, intimately understands their motives.”
“That must be why he’s such a good profiler.”
“That is precisely why. Tragically, Will’s understanding turned into an obsession, and that obsession led to action. He could no longer resist his urges, and acted on them. Repeatedly.”
Eddie.
Eddie ate another piece of meat, repressing a moan of sheer bliss, and then asked, “When did you first suspect Will Graham might be the Chesapeake Ripper?”
Eddie!
Not now. I’m working.
“There were several moments in our sessions that gave me pause, but it was his behavior on the scene of a crime that proved it beyond-
EDDIE!
What?
This meat.
It’s really friggin good, I know.
It’s human meat.
Eddie stopped mid-chew. What do you mean?
Don’t be an idiot. Human hearts have an unmistakable flavor.
“What’d you say the name of this dish was, again, Dr. Lecter?” Eddie asked, the rest of his forkful of food lodged in his cheek. Yes, he’d technically eaten humans before, but Venom typically slung them down their gullet like a snake. And Eddie had certainly never had stuffed roast heart with deviled kidneys and garlic liver pâté before.
“It’s an old recipe….” Hannibal cocked an eyebrow. “I can share it with you, if you’d like.”
“Yeah, that’d be great-this is, it’s just I’ve never had anything so flavorful.”
“Thank you, Mr. Brock. If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, I need to check on our dessert dish, creme brûlée with a wild berry compote.” Hannibal stood, and for just a heartbeat, Eddie caught a glimpse of something cold and dangerous there. He knew. He knew that Eddie knew.
Humans do not typically eat other humans.
No, they do not. Will Graham was right. Doctor Lecter killed all those people. He eats them, that’s how he gets rid of the bodies.
Then that makes him a bad guy, yes?
A very bad guy. But we’ve gotta find evidence first. Help Will Graham clear his name.
Why?
Because it’s the decent thing to do. Eddie stood, sliding the chair back as silently as he could, and headed for the unremarkable door they’d passed on the way in. It had set off all his alarm bells, though he wasn’t entirely sure why at the time. Now he suspected he knew why. He opened the door without making a sound, and headed downstairs into the basement. The lights flicked on when he reached the bottom, motion-sensitive, revealing what looked like a butcher shop-wooden work tables, a bone saw and two oversized refrigerators. Eddie opened the one closest to him and had to swallow back a mouthful of bile at what he saw.
A head!
“Yup. And that’s not all.” Eddie grimly took note of all the other body parts inside and pulled out his phone to take a few quick shots. He didn’t have long.
Venom shot out a tendril, nudging at an arm with the hand still attached. Eddie look, finger food!
“Hush.”
We can dip them in the garlic liver pâté!
“Absolutely not.”
Joking. Humans taste far better alive anyway. Especially the limbs, when they’re still squirming.
“We gotta get back upstairs quick, before-“
“It’s quite rude to go wandering through someone’s house without permission.” Hannibal said from behind them; he was holding a very large knife, that glinted in the lights of the basement. “Who were you talking to just now, Mr. Brock?”
“My other half,” Eddie said, lips curving slowly as Venom began to pool in his hands. “Want to psychoanalyze me, doctor?”
“With those shoes and that terrible suit, I have serious doubts you can afford me.”
Eddie side-stepped as Hannibal lunged forward, sending him crashing into one of the tables. But Hannibal recovered quickly and thrust the blade out again, bringing the knife up in a quick arc, meant to slice open Eddie’s midsection. Instead, Venom flung forth a tendril and grabbed Hannibal’s wrist, holding it in their iron grip as they spilled out over Eddie.
“That’s okay.” Eddie huffed a laugh that became a deep-throated rumble as Venom encased him in full. They grew to their full height, head nearly grazing the basement’s ceiling. “We don’t want your help.”
“What are you?” Hannibal asked, and to his credit, he didn’t sound even a little scared. He seemed intrigued, more than anything else.
“Your reckoning.” Venom opened their jaws wide and bit down, tearing Hannibal’s head free from his spine.
#
Will was waiting for Eddie, no longer dressed in an institutional jumpsuit, but in a pair of slacks and a sweater that made him look far more like the weary professor he purported to be. “The police tell me Hannibal lost his head,” Will said to Eddie, by way of greeting.
“He did.”
Will nodded, and his smile flickered briefly to something wider and far more vicious. “Good. I wish I’d been there to see it.”
“It’s probably better that you weren’t,” Eddie said. “For your criminal record, anyway.”
“So you went into the Devil’s house and survived unscathed.” Will cocked his head. “At least outwardly.”
“He had to be brought to justice, and somebody like that-prison wouldn’t hold him for long.”
“You’re right about that.” Will swallowed and nodded, head bowed. When he looked back up, the fury had vanished and his eyes were red and shining. “Thank you. Whatever you did, however you did it.”
“You’re welcome,” Venom said, emerging from Eddie’s shoulder.
Will paled for a second, blinked and looked at Eddie, as though to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. “I guess we’ve all got a darkness inside of us.” He paused, and added, “how do you make it work?”
Eddie shrugged. “Open communication. And lots of chocolate.”
“And punishing the wicked,” Venom opened their jaws, both a grin and a show of teeth.
Will smiled back at them. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
A surly-looking guard handed Will a vacuum-sealed bag holding his belongings and gestured towards the door.
“Guess I’m free to go,” Will said, and headed for a woman with long dark hair that was waiting on the other side of the lobby.
Eddie watched them leave, relishing the feeling of a job well done. They’d caught the bad guy, stopped him from killing any other people and set an innocent man free.
“We are losing our touch.”
“We are?” Eddie huffed a laugh. “How so? I think we did great today.”
“Will Graham did not seem the least bit intimidated by us.”
“Well, we cleared his name and got him released. There’s no reason for him to be.”
“But we even did the scary face!” To emphasize their point, Venom expanded their head and opened their jaws wide again, tongue lashing.
Eddie kissed them where their nose would be. “Yes, very scary.”
“You are mocking me.”
“I would never.” Eddie pushed opened the door and sucked in a breath of crisp fall air. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Garlic liver pâté with roast-“
“Whoa, whoa no-“
“Fine. Tater tots then. And jalapeño poppers.”
“That’s more like it.” Eddie climbed on his motorcycle as Venom formed a jacket and helmet around him. The highway was clear and the fall air felt crisp and cool. Eddie relished the feeling and the lingering sense of a job well done.
“Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s Creme brûlée?”