[Comprehensive British and American] Will the golden boy fall in love with the women's clothing

Randall rubbed his palms and fingertips slowly with hand sanitizer at the sink.The siren in his head was screaming crazily, as if he had stepped into a minefield, squeezing his internal organs in panic, because the adrenaline produced by excitement and tension made his hands tremble a little.

Maybe it was tied up, and there was no sound in the room.Although Randall's senses are not as sharp as those beastly mutants, they are still higher than ordinary humans. Even through the thick mahogany door, he can still perceive the suddenly intense breathing sound .

He knew he guessed right, Hannibal was indeed not as harmless and gentle as he appeared.

But should I tell the police in advance?Randall held the phone a little uncertainly. He didn't expect that he would talk with Hannibal for so long. The elder was obviously experienced and guided him to say a lot of things. For a few minutes, Randall even Forgetting that the person sitting in front of him is the object of his observation.

If Professor Charles knew about these things, he would definitely teach him a lesson. Fortunately, he didn't reveal everything that shouldn't be said.

The sky outside has been completely dark, and Randall has a premonition that it may rain tonight. The strong wind presses down on the tree trunks and makes a violent rustling sound.

Randall thought for a while, and swiped his finger to Dick's contact page in the address book, wanting to send him a message, so that he and those who are still available in the police station can prepare in advance.

After all, this was just a whim of his at first, and he didn't expect to catch a big fish.

But he had only typed—halfway, when he heard slight footsteps approaching him, then—raised his head, looked at the mirror, and found—an eye was looking at him through the crack of the door that was not closed tightly, —a gray, cold eye.

Randall turned off the phone screen, turned his head to the outside and slowly pulled out a polite smile, "Doctor Hannibal, do you want to go to the toilet too?"

Why does this man walk like a cat?

"I'm just worried that something happened to you." Hannibal took a step back, his face finally not covered by the shadow of the door frame.

"I'll just wash my hands, what can happen." Randall put away his phone and walked out, saying, "Lula is asking me when I'm going home, it might rain tonight, I'm answering her news."

Randall pulled open the frosted glass door, the pulleys clicked on the grooves in the floor, and he felt the emotions of the other person beside him grow more intense.

"Is that the bedroom?" He pointed to the closed mahogany door and asked curiously.

Hannibal looked at his face, as if observing what Randall was thinking, and smiled slightly, "It's just the utility room, I don't come here often, everything in it is dusty, so I closed the door. "

"I see," Randall nodded, "Is dinner ready?"

"The lamb chops are frying." Hannibal led him to the long dining table.

The air was filled with the mellow aroma of softened butter and the aroma of the fusion of red wine and meat. The pot was sizzling and burning. Randall didn't say anything more, and sat down at the table.

Hannibal turned the meat in the pot over, and the other side had been burnt to an attractive color. Randall's eyes were drawn from the flower vase on the table, and he had to admit that Hannibal was in the kitchen. Art may really have a very powerful talent in this area.

But—thinking that this thing might be human flesh, Randall's stomach, which was still a little hungry, began to writhe, as if stomach acid was churning in it.

He didn't know how many people Hannibal had attacked, except for the man in the room, there might be one in his refrigerator—but why did he choose to attack these classmates?

"Do you know Marion?" Randall began to play with the knife on the table, and asked casually, "I heard that she has disappeared. It is really dangerous recently. It seems that many people have disappeared. I passed by BCPD in the past two days There were a lot of reporters squatting outside, and they seemed to have a lot of questions for the police station.”

Hannibal has already begun to take out the meat, put it on a plate, and pour over the sauce and spices.

The elder said in a low voice, "Are you worried about going home at night? I can drive you back."

He brought the food to Randall's table and smiled good-naturedly, "After all, I asked you to stay." "...No, I'm just thinking, why so many people are missing, what do they have?" Purpose," Randall stared at the well-cooked steak, tilted his head, as if thinking about where to start first, "studying social psychology is also a subject, I bet Professor Michel's final The subject—will definitely touch on these.”

"Humans have long since proven themselves to be a particularly aggressive species like no other—consistently striking, torturing, and killing their own members."* Hannibal sat down in front of Randall, and even this It was a long dining table, but he did not choose the main seat, but a short vase separated from Randall. His eyes fell on Randall through the newly replaced flowers. His students were at the moment Holding the steel knife firmly, the knuckles turned white, and the tip of the knife penetrated into the steak.

It's strange that when this man said these words, there was no wavering in his heart, as if he had no empathy, and he didn't agree that he was the 'human' species he said.

Randall used a fork to bring the cut piece of meat to his mouth, the rich aroma lingered in his nostrils, but his stomach was writhing with nausea, he took a small breath, and moved closer again, Meat touched his lips.

Anger, panic, and suppressed emotions were like a thick impenetrable spider web that completely covered his face.Randall's vision was dark, and he saw a man in a suit walking towards him, with exquisite suit pants and Oxford soles.

The other hand gently pinched his jaw, and 'Randall' was forced to raise his head from the ground, and met - gray eyes - the eyes of Hannibal Lecter.

The blond man seemed to be embracing his lover, pinching his jaw and pulling him away, he could feel the other's breath hitting the side of his face, and this body was trembling in fear, teeth chattering , couldn't say anything, and then, a kind of cool metal was attached to the neck of 'him', he heard the body squeeze out a sharp panting, and began to shake his head and struggle, this is a Ma'am, but it's not Marion, maybe another female student on the missing list: "No, please... please let me go, Hannibal, teacher..."

Hannibal lowered his eyes slightly, his gray eyes were cold and indifferent, and he opened his lips to say something more like a blade trying to cut off the flesh on her body, "You are too rude, Miss Alison."

The knife wiped her throat very quickly, so deep that it almost broke her neck.

Randall put down the metal fork in his hand, Hannibal obviously didn't realize what Randall had experienced in the just - second.

He drank red wine, squinted his eyes, his gray pupils were like falcons, and continued: "Cultural differences and living environments will determine aggressive behavior in human society, and group survival is accompanied by danger and destructiveness." Yes, wars arise when - parts of humanity feel threatened or contested."

"So you think this is the resistance of some groups?" Randall said, and he found that his throat was hurting, which was no worse than the pain after meeting Dr. Truman last time, "What about the body killing people? A serial murderer, a fish who slipped through the cracks hidden in a huge disappearance..."

He stared at Hannibal, the pain from being forced back halfway through death had not gone away, turned into two flames burning in his eyes, he opened his mouth to speak, his voice hoarse and mean, spit out mercilessly Another name for this exquisite man in front of him: "Ogre."

Hannibal paused—for a moment, before beginning to say, "I said this in class, that environmental, social, and natural factors affect violent human beings—"

Randall said indifferently: "So what were you thinking when you killed someone?"

Hannibal slowly put the red wine glass on the table, his eyes skipped over the knife on the table, and then he reached for it, Hannibal - standing up - said, "I think one of the — there must be some misunderstanding."

"Oh, I misunderstood, the people you locked up in the back room don't think so?" Randall sat still, letting Hannibal walk towards him, "Morel, Anderson, Vicky , Klebold..."

Randall read out the names of the students who disappeared from the school. Although he guessed that Hannibal did not do all of them, there were at least three of them. "Or Roger, Alison, and Marion?"

"You crossed the line, Randall."

"I thought you'd call me 'faux'?" Randall said quietly. "You don't think I've called the police?"

"There won't be a signal here," Hannibal said mildly, already rounding the table.

"Okay," Randall murmured, he didn't notice this when he took out his phone, so he was suspected just now?When he said that he was going to get back Lula, "but now you are the one who is more 'faux'."

"what?"

"You don't really think I'm a helpless student, do you?" Randall said, and as soon as the words fell, his hand slapped back and hit Hannibal's wrist with his arm With great strength, Hannibal almost lost his grip on the knife. Randall grabbed Hannibal's wrist, turned around, hit his knee hard on the opponent's abdomen, and grabbed the opponent's hair with the other hand. Press, "Unfortunately, I may also be the kind of person who tends to be a little violent—"

Hannibal was so painful that he bent down from the force, but he still struggled. He had received good training, swordsmanship and melee combat. Perhaps for ordinary people, fighting Hannibal is very difficult, but for For Randall, it was easier than his previous workouts.

Logan wouldn't be clinging to a weapon while Randall held him, those razor-sharp claws pervasive and elusive; Nibal was obviously not the one with more combat experience than them.

Randall tried to convey those painful emotions to the other party, but these accidents didn't seem to have any effect on Hannibal - he didn't seem to be afraid of pain, nor would he be disturbed by sadness and emotion.

Those emotions only irritated him and made him stronger.

"You don't seem to have empathy." Randall pointed out, his tone was calm, it didn't look like he was suppressing a murderer with a knife with his bare hands.

"So you're a mutant, or a superhuman?" Hannibal said through gritted teeth, he looked a bit embarrassed, but his eyes were still clear, Randall heard him laugh vaguely, "transmitting emotions and sensing emotions ?”

I have to say that a psychiatrist's conjecture was so accurate that it was scary, "Landa, I knew we were the same kind from the first time I saw you."

"You and I are not - kind of people." Randall retorted subconsciously, not wanting to get involved with a cruel murderer.

Although in his heart, for a moment, he thought of the time when he first met Hannibal and felt that the other person was very close, otherwise he wouldn't have found out that Hannibal was a murderer after so long.

"You had a complete family, a good tutor, a harmonious family relationship, and then you lost it." When Hannibal dissected, his tone was steady, as if the two of them were not facing each other with swords, but holding each other. Tea is still sitting on the sofa, "You are afraid of those 'loves', because you have experienced too many emotions, and your self-awareness has gradually become blurred. People will encounter trauma in their lives, but most people They all have enough resilience, and the other part, like you, like me, has faced death, and this kind of trauma has enough lethality for you and me."

Hannibal turned the point of the knife at an angle, so that it met Randall's brow directly.

Randall actually had the ability to break his wrist and tie people up directly, but he didn't do that, but frowned slightly, "Continue talking."

"The idea breaks in, those moments of death pop up in your head, social withdrawal, and you slowly start to distance yourself from activities that bring joy in life, like those obsessive love affairs, hypersensitivity, and you start to doubt all stuff*. Randa, you have PTSD."

Professor Charles seemed to have mentioned this to him a long time ago, and Randall took some energy to think about it. Professor Charles also suggested that he find a psychiatrist to clear his mind, but Randall never took it to heart. superior.

It seemed that he was wrong to blame Hannibal, the psychiatrist was really dedicated.Randall looked at him, the elder was very different from his usual neat and dignified appearance, his blond hair was messed up by Randall, his expression changed from carefree to slightly annoyed, and the murderous intent was pressing on Randall hit.

But not only would I not pay him, I would put him in jail.Randall thought confidently.

"Just like me, when the time comes you will know what I was thinking when I killed someone."

"Then I've changed my mind." Randall broke Hannibal's wrist with a 'crack', the elder suppressed the pain in his throat, but cold sweat broke out on his forehead, "I don't want to know Your method, anyway, the truth I pursue has never been this."

Randall kicked away the knife in the opponent's hand, stepped on Hannibal's calf, and looked around - but found nothing that could be bound, so he had to stand there and dig out cell phone.

On the screen was still the text message page that he typed - half a word, and the upper right corner showed that his current signal was outside the circle, so Randall asked, "Where is the signal jammer?"

Hannibal didn't speak, but another voice suddenly sounded, accompanied by the sound of broken glass.

"Hello, Mr. Murderer, are you home, er--Landa? Why are you here?"

Randall also turned his head in doubt. He was thinking seriously just now and didn't notice the approach of others. "Yeyi, why are you here?"

"I found - some evidence that this Mr. Hannibal Lecter is a serial killer, so - here I come." Nightwing stood awkwardly in front of the broken glass window, with debris under his feet, he saw He looked at Randall and then at Hannibal lying on the ground, who seemed to be dying, and skillfully took out a rope from his belt and threw it over, "But am I late?"

"It's not too late," Randall took the rope and tied him up. "There is still a person locked up inside. There is a signal jammer here, so I can't call the police."

"Okay, leave it to me." Ye Yi walked away from the window kindly, and tried to open the door of the inner room first.

Randall lowered his head and looked at Hannibal. The murderer should have realized that he really has no way out this time, and he was thinking of some bad idea.

"People who are emotionally deficient seek identity in killing. This is the death instinct, which is at work in every living life and is working hard to bring it to its end."

Randall: "Freud also said that people have two instincts, the instinct of love."

Hannibal tilted his head and said bluntly, "But you don't love. You resist those things."

"So, your death instinct is telling you at this moment, are you going to commit suicide?" Randall grabbed the bag of gift cakes he brought, and he reached out and stuffed a piece of bread into Hannibal's mouth, The mutant was slightly annoyed, "You talk too much."

Freud believes that people have two instincts, one is the instinct of love, the other is the instinct of death, the former is constructive, the latter is destructive, but although the two instincts have opposite effects, they are Coexist at the same time, one ebbs and another grows. *

Hannibal was absolutely right, Randall had thought about it before, the idea of ​​'killing people' had been in his head when his brother Wilder was gone.

He will find the mastermind and kill him with his own hands.

So he gave up his identity as a superhero, knowing that he is not the material to save people.

But now, he kind of... doesn't want to do that.

Randall put on the necklace again, grabbed a donut and ate it. The overly sweet syrup made his big teeth sore, but the sugar replenished the blood in his brain, and he slowly calmed down.

Ye Yi carried out the girl who was locked in the room, which was Marian himself, but Marian seemed too tired, and she passed out again when Ye Yi carried her out of the room.

Nightwing told him that the signal jammer was turned off, and he also called the police, who would be here soon.

The two of them were squatting on the ground, Marian was asleep on the sofa, and Hannibal was tied up on the ground. Randall divided the donuts in his hand—half to Nightwing, "Aren't you leaving? BCPD Coming soon."

"Wait a little longer." Nightwing took the donut, and their fingers briefly touched for half a second, and Randall flinched as if electrocuted.

He looked at his fingertips strangely, as if wondering how the strong emotion he encountered just now was born.

A strong wind blew outside the broken glass window, blowing the chandelier in the house to sway, and the warm light swayed, just like the swinging balance in his eyes.

"Ye Yi, can you... teach me?"

"What's wrong?" Dick swallowed the donut, and the sweetness of chocolate spread in his mouth, "What do you want to learn?"

Randall turned his head to look at him in distress, with bewilderment and bewilderment in his eyes.

"Teach me, what is love?"

The author has something to say: It's been a long time!Is this a confession?Let's do it!

Hannibal: ...Speechless.

*Humans have long proven themselves to be a particularly aggressive species, and no other species has hit, tortured, and killed their own members so consistently. ("Social Animals")

*Three manifestations of PTSD (JeffreyK.Zeig, Ph.D's psychotherapy-related topics)

*Freud's later ideas.

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