Hannibal Lecter was up late reading old notes when he heard footsteps outside his bedroom door. Slowly, he put the papers face down on his bedside table.
Careful not to make his (extraordinarily expensive) bed creak, he put his feet on the floor. He quickly grabbed a small knife from his drawer and began to slowly walk toward the closed door.
He could hear heavy breathing now… Heavy but somehow light. Whoever was out there was quite small in stature and lung size. Feeling less threatened, he brought his ear close to the door.
Suddenly, the doorknob was grabbed from the other side. Hannibal steadily backed up and made sure he’d be behind the door when it was opened. But the door wasn’t opened.
The doorknob seemed to be fumbled a few times. Grabbed, twisted, let go, grabbed, but never twisted and pushed. This person seemed to be under the influence of something. Still, Hannibal waited.
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