A snort. "Well, naturally. But rather, what field? I can hardly see you as gynaecologist. And you don't seem the type to treat people out of a love for humanity."
Not exactly a judgment. Just a statement of fact.
Of course, he already knows the answer. But he'd like to see what a young Hannibal has to say.
Here, a spoonful of strawberry for your troubles, Hannibal.
"Because," he says simply, licking at the traces of juice, "you're Hannibal Lecter. You're a serial killer."
People who have the capacity to kill thoughtlessly, or even to enjoy the act, tend to lose that compassion for humanity. Humans may be unique, they may be special, but they lose that spark, gaining the ability to become mere objects. He's seen it in agents and administrators alike.
It hasn't happened to him. It's why he still has a heart.
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Not exactly a judgment. Just a statement of fact.
Of course, he already knows the answer. But he'd like to see what a young Hannibal has to say.
Reply
He twists around, sits up, favours Villiers with a wryly inquisitive smile.
"Why not?"
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"Because," he says simply, licking at the traces of juice, "you're Hannibal Lecter. You're a serial killer."
People who have the capacity to kill thoughtlessly, or even to enjoy the act, tend to lose that compassion for humanity. Humans may be unique, they may be special, but they lose that spark, gaining the ability to become mere objects. He's seen it in agents and administrators alike.
It hasn't happened to him. It's why he still has a heart.
"Your eyes are different, that's all."
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