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He’s terrified. It dwells in his very core, extending as the spider within prepares for a feast, effortlessly covering his inner walls with it’s intricate web. A display of pure dominance. To work with such slow, confident elegance, knowing the prey will waltz right into it’s design of intimacy.
Because what is love, it not being held close by them until they finally devour?
Will can’t help the faint smile on his lips, although it’s one of pure courtesy. He wonders if he’d taste acidic now, too.
Fear. Such a feeble, yet tangible thing.
Will thought he had long since conquered such a human vice. But, alas, one can only shed it’s skin and rearrange ones insides so much.
After all, antlers are merely but an eccentric, yet useless display of power when in the presence of fangs.
What had frightened Will, he could not say. Funny how, at the time when everything around him felt crystal clear compared to his old, long and blurry sleepless nights, this new sense of clarity only seemed to amplify the ever growing web.
Being all seeing in the dark is of no comfort, if one turns blind.
Ah.
He found the spider.
Will has always had a vivid imagination, a way of handling words to match his rather cruel visuals, but he had never found beauty in it. Seen the art that is his own downfall.
To think that one person can rob you of the one place only you should own.
Your mind.
Now that. That, is the true nature of mans cruelty. The possessive act of lingering in your beloved where only they can see.
Where only they can despair.
Will’s fear has not subsided, but instead of feeling offended by it’s presence, he’d blithely embrace it. Welcome it, even, to infiltrate his veins. Interlace itself within him until it’s venom turns to poison.
Until they were one.
The indulgence of hedonism will do him no good, but luckily for Hannibal, he is no man of god. Merely his creation.