Stage One: Hope in Darkness

Remembering Hannibal (Annabelle)

  I could hear more men, they must have heard the screams. None had come running though. His screams had been rather high pitched. They must have thought they came from me. It meant they knew what his intentions had been when he came back here and knew better than to bother him.
Poor asshole. If this wasn't regular behavior for him then they would have come running when they heard his screams. They would have come to save him. A pathetic huff of air escapes me. A poor excuse for a laugh, serves you right.
I won't mourn for that man. They had killed my Hannibal. The other cells were still quiet. They weren't sure what to make of all this either. First things first. I use the key to open the cell door. I move down the line of cells, holding a finger to my lips as I see the first of the other captives. Dirty, tear streaked faces met mine. Inside the cell sits two other women, ther press themselves back into the wall of the cell. Their fear of me is obvious, eyes wide, shaking bodies.
Why are they scared of me? I am going to save them, not hurt them. I watch as one of the women's eyes flashes down from my eyes, to ....my lips? The blood. It is still all over my face. Shit no wonder they were frightened. I run a sleeve over my mouth. Not that it really does too much. I can feel the thick stickiness pulling at the fine hairs on my face. It is already congealing, becoming a hard mess of dark red.
I hold up the keys, going for the lock. I unlock the door but don't open it. When they are ready then they can leave. I am afraid that if I go in there in this state I will only frighten them more. I go through much the same process as I go down the line of cells.
The last cell has just one man in it. He is dark skinned and huge. The biggest man I have ever seen in my life. Even with his dark skin, the poor lighting, and the distance between us I can still tell that he is pretty roughed up.
How had those men managed to subdue a man of this size? The man is reclining against the wall as I unlock the door. The second it clicks he moves, covering the distance between us lightning fast. He opens the door without an ounce of hesitation.
He towers over me for a second before moving around me in the narrow passage. He moves down the line of cells. Checking each one. When he gets to the first one I unlocked I can see his face light up.
"Daddy!" The girls who had been cowering throw themselves out of the cell into the big man's open arms. As he holds onto his daughters his eyes meet mine,
"Thank you," He whispers. I nod. Slowly the others start to come out of their cells. Guess the big man made everyone less wary of me. Whatever made them comfortable I guess, not like I opened their cells or anything.
Slipping past all the people, crouching at the door that leads to where the rest of the men are.
"Useless, trash, oh that's nice!" I crack the door open. Three of them. The one that is still taking is holding my pack in his hands. They have all my things. My bow is still attached to my bag.
"Hey you assholes! Come out here and help me!" someone shouts from outside. The comotion is followed by a scream. They are bringing in another captive. The three inside all move out the door, leaving my pack. The second the last one goes through the door I move. I quickly grab my pack. My bow and arrows are in place on my back. I smile as I see my belt with my knife tucked safely away.
I can hear the others moving around behind me, grabbing the most readily available weapons. The big man finds a wooden baseball bat. I make eye contact as I crouch by the door. He nods.
I fling the door open, rushing at the men standing outside. Two of them hold a struggling woman between them. She screeches, clawing and kicking at them. I grab the nearest one before he can even tell what is happening. My blade finds its mark, burying into his chest all the way to the hilt. Good riddance.
The other captives with their makeshift weapons are already on the other three. I see the big man take one of them down with a single blow to the head. The dead man drops to the ground with a tremendous force.
A rustle in the tree off to the left of me. A flash of amber eyes. A hint of something fuzzy and black through the bushes. No, it can't be.
I whistle. A quick short one. A whine answers me. A head pops out from the trees. I rush forward.
Hannibal!! I throw myself at the wolf. Wrapping my arms around his neck. Buying my face into the fur on his neck. I let the sobs take me. Thank you.
I pull away, looking him over. There is blood on my hand. A bullet had hit him, good fucking thing that man was already dead because I wanted to kill him all over again. The wound doesn't look all that bad though, the bullet went through and through. It skimmed the outside of his ribs. A lot of blood and was painful enough to slow him down but it hadn't hit any major organs and no major blood vessels. We were not out of the woods though.
He would need to be stitched up and bandaged. in my joy and focus on Hannibal I had forgotten all about the other people around.
"*eh em*" A woman clears her throat behind me, "Thank you for getting us out," she glances back at the others, "umm look, we are headed south, if you want to join us? We could really use someone like you." I give her a reluctant smile. My head moved side to side, south was where I was running from.  There was no going back for me.
"Oh um, then I guess this is where we say goodbye... Thank you," sorry lady but best not drag you into my mess of a life.
Tending to my boy as they all shuffle off into the woods. All of the screaming is bound to draw walkers here. I wrap bandages around the wound as best as I can. The stitches will have to wait, but at least the bleeding has stopped.
Walking would aggravate Hannibal's wound, looks like you'll be riding piggyback again.. Or maybe.. The station would have something I could use. I signal to Hannibal to stay, wait right here my good boy. The door closes behind me, I go room by room. In the third one I see what I need. A wagon, one of those big industrial ones. Perfect for my boy.
Back outside I take out the blanket from my pakand use it to line to the bottom of the cart. My arms are sore, so is my head but dragging him in this will be better than trying to carry him. It is more effort than I would like to admit to get him into the cart, I do it as gently as possible.
With my boy securely nestled in the wagon we start off again. Using my left hand I drag him behind me. In my right is my knife. The going is slow, I have to stick to the paths. But at least it is less exhausting than carrying him.
The bumps in the tails shake the cart and whenever we hit a rough patch Hannibal starts to whine in pain. I switch arms after an hour and a half, glancing at my watch. Six thirty, we did not have much time left to find shelter for the night.
Thirty more minutes pass and we come to a small stream. I fill up our bottles, making sure that Hannibal drinks some water by filling a camping cup and bringing it up to him. Then I plow through the small stream. The wagon is high enough and this part is shallow enough that Hannibal avoids getting too wet.
Twenty more minutes, the sun is starting to set. I pull with everything I have, over rocks and uphill. As we crest over the hill I see polished wood. The outside of a cabin. I use my whole body to get the wagon safely down the hill, digging my heels into the hill. When we reach the bottom I give the signal, wait here. Then I move over to the cabin, peering through the windows. Empty. The cabin wasn't very big, a single room with a door that probably led to a bathroom. The place looked untouched.
Lady luck had graced me once again. Although she wouldn't stick around for long. She never did. Back at the wagon I wrap Hannibal in the blanket. It is an effort to get him inside but I manage it without dropping him.
I lay him on a bed in the corner, I wouldn't be using it tonight. I cut off the bandage and got to work while I still have a little light left. Hannibal makes soft whines and heavy pants as I get to work. Every tug of the needle is a tug at my heart. Sorry baby I know it hurts, just hold on a little longer then I promise you can get some rest. For the millionth time since the injury I wished I could speak. Wished that somehow I could say comforting words to my Hannibal. I try, opening my mouth and pushing sound out. All that comes out is an ugly hiss.
As he laid there perfectly still for me I couldn't help but let my mind wander. I remember the first time I had ever seen the little wolf...
~~
I could not stop shaking, it was cold, so cold. The wrapping around my neck was drenched in blood. The cold air cooled the red liquid as soon as it left my body. I wrap my numbing limbs tighter around myself. It would be okay, I just did not want to die in that place, Now I wouldn't. Death by hypothermia would be a walk in the park compared to that place. Any death would be better than dying there, even hell was more welcoming. It is okay, I tell myself. You can let go now. That would be the ultimate punishment for Him. His favorite test subject dying before he could finish his work.
I wasn't going to lose to him, even if it meant killing myself. My last act of defiance. He would never get his hands on me again. Never again put another needle into my veins. I had seen first hand what those concoctions had done to humans, that would never be me. No matter what I had to do. I smile. Everything was going to be okay now.
My eyelids are heavy, I let them drift closed. The blood loss and cold are pulling me under a haze of thick fog. That is okay.
Crunching sounds through the fog. A walker is nearby, enjoying the meat and bones of a fresh kill. Even if it gets a hold of me it will be okay. My eyes closed, focusing only on the sounds around me. I hear it, a little whimper followed by a groan.
Does someone need help? I force my eyes open. My feet feel numb, my legs uncooperative as I try to get them under me to stand. Fuck it. I give up on trying to stand, instead I crawl on the ground. Dragging my legs behind me. In small increments I make my way around a boulder. My limbs an awkward collection of weight that seems impossible to carry.
Rounding the edge of the boulder I become able to see it. A walker crouched on the ground, hands coated in blood and bits of gore. Laying still on the ground is its victim, not human. Fur and amber eyes, a wolf. It lays splayed open on the ground, a gaping hole in what used to be its chest.
The walker is no longer focused on its kill, instead its eyes are fixed on a small black furred wolf cub. It was going to kill it. This cub that had lost its mother, alone and helpless without her care. Even if it got away from the walker it would still not survive, not without intervention. It is innocent, it can not protect itself.
My body is filled with adrenaline, with rage. I find a strength inside myself that I did not even know was there. There would be no more death today, not if I had any say about it. A pebble is in my hand before I can think, I lob it at the walker. It smacks into the back of the thing's head. Those dead eyes turn on me at a sedate pace.
As soon as it sees me it moves. I grope around blindly for something, anything to defend myself with. Run little wolf cub, now is your chance. It snarls as it gets closer. My hands get purchase on a good sized rock just as the walker reaches me.
It lunches, one hand goes for its neck and the other brings the rock down. I bash on its skull as it snaps its jaws at me. It takes three hits as hard as I can. I hold nothing back, this is not a person anymore. It stops moving, the weight of it crushing me as it falls.
I glance over, the wolf cub is still standing there. Staring at me with those amber eyes, it will die out here on its own.
This is it huh. Fate has a way of getting what it wants. Just when I had accepted it, accepted the fact that this was the end. I have to live. I have to take care of this little guy. He needs me.
I push the walker off of me, he has a pack on him. I open it up, looking for anything of use. I need to stop the bleeding. Still looking through the bag I take advantage of the adrenaline warming my blood and get unsteadily to my feet.
A bag of jerky, I open it and hold out a piece to the little wolf. It's okay, I won't hurt you. The wolf shows no signs of hesitation as it walks over to me. It is small, I don't even know if it was weaned. Meat might not even be something it could eat yet.
I reach down and pick the little fella up. Keeping him in my arms I move away from the walker. I can't go far though. I collapse just a dozen feet away. I need to stop the bleeding or saving this wolf from the walker would all be for nothing.
Rummaging through the bag I can't find a med kit. What I do find however...... A knife and a lighter. Well it would have been hard to stitch something I could not see. I untangle the cloth that was my makeshift bandage from around my neck. I run the lighter over the blade, making sure the metal gets good and hot.
The metal starts to turn orange. Now or never. A deep breath and I press the metal to my open wound.
A silent scream leaves me. In my mind I can hear the screech of pain. Obliterating pain, fire burning through me. Black overtakes me.
I have no idea how much time has passed when I open my eyes again. I passed out from the pain. The wolf cub! My limbs feel like they don't really belong to me and each move is a negotiation rather than an order.
The wet squelch of eating raw meat greets my ears. Oh god had another walker shown up?! My limbs are forced into submission as I get to my feet, following the sound.
What I see is not a walker eating. It is the wolf cub. It is feeding off of its own mother. It is a sad sight but it must do what it has to, this is the only way to survive in this world. Good, he has a strong will to live. My little cannibal.
~~
I smile at the memory. He needed me and whether I knew it or not I needed him too. Taking care of my wolf cub had given me purpose, a reason to live. To keep on moving when everything had been impossible to me. Hannibal had shown me what it was to live again.
I smile down at my boy as I set the last stitch in place. I pour peroxide over the wound and wipe it away. Patting the area dry. I'll have to keep an eye on the wound but it looked like we were out of the woods for a bit.
Inside the cabin is a small wood burning fireplace. A stack of ready cut wood sits right beside it. So we could start a fire if it got too cold. Outside there is a windmill, hopefully that means there would be running water. It had been a long while since I had last bathed. And I needed to get all this blood off of me.
The blood from that man was all over my clothes, drying and making them stiff and crusty with the blood. I make sure the door is secure before heading into the bathroom.
The bathroom is little more than a closet, sink toilet and tub. Nothing fancy, just the basics. I set my camping lantern on the counter and start to undress. I just finish taking everything off when I catch my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are wide, pupils dilated. Blood is smeared over the bottom half of my face. My hair hangs in clumps. Blood from that bastard and blood from the head wound mixing together to make one bloody dred. My deep red auburn hair isan even darker red. My eyes follow my body, noting all the bruises and scrapes. My wrists are blue, purple and red. My legs have bruises too. Falls and hits. The left side of my chest on my ribs is turning darker. Where he put his knee on my chest.
My eyes inevitably are drawn to my neck. Ugly pink raised skin, lines of angry purple, twisted knots of scar tissue. I can still see pieces of the symbol he carved into me under the burn. His symbol. His experiment.