Will knew he was a demon from the minute he was born.
His father, however, did not.
Will’s mother left mere days after he was brought home from the hospital, exhausted and hollow eyed according to his Dad. He never found her, no matter how hard he looked, but Will thought maybe she hadn’t run away.
The demon who made Will took her.
Had it killed her? He didn’t know, but thought it was more than likely. Will had no feeling for his mother, though his father was the only one who treated him with kindness. Unless he made it otherwise.
Will could get into someone’s mind with ease by the time was in eight grade, but the road there was rough. He could make most people like him, had to because otherwise his strangeness showed through.
He gained fire in high school, waking up one night with flames running up his arms, and he tossed his sheets in the trash before Dad could see.
The fire was harder to control, but he learned, and when he inadvertently found a serial killer roaming the neighborhood in his sophomore year he burned him alive.
Which was how he began killing people.
His father didn’t know, or maybe didn’t care, he wasn’t sure. But the bodies never piled up, all turned to bones and ash, which made the town safer. And gave Will his direction in life.
Will began researching Criminal Justice, and killers in general until he graduated ready to join the FBI. Their rejection was something he couldn’t control, which was upsetting, but he became a teacher of agents instead. He wouldn’t be able to catch killers this way, but no one needed to know what he did in his spare time.
His prolific murder sprees grew more intense in Baltimore, perhaps too much, but his hunger to see the fear in their eyes made it hard to stop.
So someone else stopped him.
One minute he was in the midst of burning a child killer alive and the next he was standing in a room surrounded by fire. A man sat on a red curved chair across from him, and he had glowing red eyes.
“Hello, Will.”
Will found he couldn’t move from the chair he was in so he just glared. “Are you him?” he asked, “Are you my father?”
The demon across from him started to laugh, the sound going right to Will’s very bones, and one minute he was across the room then the next he was almost in Will’s lap. He was more handsome up close, his face a mix of curves and lines that were hard to look way from, and his smile was filled with jagged sharp teeth.
“No,” he said, smiling, “No, I am not. Your father…was a lowly thing that has long since been punished for his actions.”
Will felt tears fill his eyes. “Then what do you want with me?”
The demon grabbed his face with one hand, so close that Will could smell the brimstone coming off of him.
“I want you, of course,” he said, leaning in to whisper in Will’s ear, “I’ve never seen a hybrid so hungry for death. Would you…like to torture them here? Burn them, cut them, whatever you’d like.”
“Who…who are you?”
The demon pulled back, and to Will’s shock a long tongue came from his mouth when he licked his own lips.
“Some call me Lucifer,” the demon said, “But…I’ve long since tired of the name he gave me. You…you can call me Hannibal.”
Will let out a long breath. “If I say no?”
“Then I will send you home, but…your powers will be taken from you. All of them.”
He imagined going home, alone, with no way to make anyone see him as more than the strange thing and having no one but his father.
“My father…”
“Will forget you,” Hannibal said, touching his cheek, “He will forget you, and move on with his life. He’ll forget your mother, find a wife, and even have children.”
“His own children,” Will said, his voice shaking.
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes. “I…I’ll stay. I’ll stay.”
The magic keeping him frozen was gone at once, and he nearly fell forward into the Devil’s arms but held back to glare at him.
“Welcome home, Will. I promise to make it so you’ll never regret your choice.”
- Is this how all of your exorcism sessions usually proceed, Father Lecter? Not very professional.
- No, Will, yours appears to be quite special.
Commission for @miasmatik
Even if Mads said he plays him like Lucifer, there’s a certain matter of self-perception there. Like Will is convinced of his own darkness, that there is in fact something terrible and evil in him. Even if he must fight against it. Hannibal on the other hand has a certainty and clarity of purpose that one usually only finds in people who are “cultish and weird” as they say, people who are totally convinced of their own righteousness.
Also it would be nice to see Demon Will tempting Angel Hannibal with like say, his big eyes and cute butt and Hannibal would find the whole thing rude but Will would just be like “I am what I am, and now I’m going to go get myself pounded hard by like 20 large muscular men who are into weird demon sex if you won’t do it. And then maybe make them think I’ve grown tentacles because why not.”
And then like, sad cannibal angel tears.
Then maybe a weird pun about eating the body and blood of our saviour when Hannibal finds some weird reason to cockblock Will’s attempts at weird demon sex.
Hannibal was putting the finishing touches on his dunner plate – spooning out some sauce in an artistic drizzle around some tenderloin – when a loud honking from outside on the street started ringing through his kitchen, loud as -
“Hell's bells,” Hannibal pursed his lips. “Such rudeness.”
Though it pained him, Hannibal covered his dinner plate, and with a sigh, went to see what was the source of this disturbance. As he suspected, there was one scruffy, leather clad demon waiting in a ridiculous beat up Toyota waiting in his driveway.
“Hello angel, going my way?”
William grinned at him with an expression that was more of a leer than anything else. His breath smelled more than just a little like whiskey and there was a cigarette dangling from his lips. Hannibal huffed in annoyance.
“Not at all William. You're in a terrible state. Come inside, I was just finished making dinner.” The lecherous grin that had been plastered over the demon's face dropped. Hannibal continued. “I'm sure you'd appreciate fine cuisine more if you would stop attacking your palate with those -” he sniffed at William's cigarette - “abominations.”
Hannibal punctuated this sentence by snapping his fingers and causing William's cigarette to disappear. The smaller form also clutched at his head in momentary agony, then glared back up at the angel.
“I don't want to hear any more of your hypocritical crap about making your 'dinner' one with the man upstairs-”
“God's mercy is infinite,” argued Hannibal. “I only-”
“Just get in the car angel,” Will leaned forward and favoured Hannibal with a pout. “Please.”
With a sigh, Hannibal acquiesced and appeared in the front passenger side.
“And to what occurrence do I owe my gratitude for this ill-timed visit?” he asked, doing up his seat belt.
“For goodness sake's-” Hannibal turned and smiled at Will then, showing all of his pointy teeth. “You know the seatbelt doesn't work Hannibal.”
“There are laws,” replied Hannibal serenely. It was an old argument, one they'd had even since a horse had drawn a cart. Hannibal nearly jumped when Will dropped his head forward to smash it against his steering wheel. “Will!”
Hannibal was startled once again to suddenly feel a hand come to rest rather high up on his thigh.
“I'm terrified right now,” he admitted quietly. Hannibal frowned. He would have left his dinner without any fuss if he'd realized it was a matter of true import. Reaching out, he brushed a hand across William's brow. “It's Abigail, I've finally found her.”
Hannibal's breath stopped. Wide blue eyes turned and stared at him, and Hannibal felt an old familiar temptation, even as he placed his hand on top of William's.
“Well then,” he sighed. “Drive on William. We had best go attend to this Anti-Christ.”
