The cold seeped into my bones. It was nothing but cold. Surrounded by the raw cold my thoughts still led back to Hannibal.

The bright sun bled into my eyes as I slowly opened them. I was laying in the snow, a light layer dusted my clothes and hair. I slowly propped myself up. The events of last night thawed in my mind. red snow surrounded my right hand. I lifted it up to see the cut yesterday left. My finger tips were a deep purple. The cold reignited the aching of the scar on my stomach.

I carried my stiff body to the house.

Mischa laid, sleeping, in front of the fireplace. The dying ambers flickered to black.

I was barely able to carry the wood log to the dying fire. My hands felt numb, I could only bend my fingers slightly. I couldn't feel the wooden splinters digging into my wound.

The match fell from my grasp before I could strike it. I had to hold it between my teeth and dragged it across the side of the match box. I dropped it in the fireplace, watching the last of the wooden logs be set ablaze.

I dragged my frozen body closer to the fire. I let the flames taste my flesh. I slowly was able to regain movement back into my fingers. I noticed redden and swollen skin around my wound. A hot pain came every time I pressed on it. It's probably infected. If Hannibal was here he would clean the cut and treat it. He would look into my eyes and tell me that I'll be alright. My cheeks turned wet with tears.

I missed him. I missed him so much. I wanted to hug him and tell him I love him. My whimpers were drowned out by the crackling fire. I hate him so much, but I love him just the same. My cries woke Mischa up. I held her to my chest and wept.

She started to get antsy so I carried her to the kitchen to make her formula, but there was none. I looked everywhere but found nothing. She needed to eat, I have to breastfeed her.

She latched onto my nipple but nothing came out. My hungry stomach pulled my attention.

I step passed the shards of ceramic and glass and scavenged the fridge with Mischa on my hip. There was only packages of meat left. Human meat. I caught a glimpse of myself on the refrigerator's reflective surface. My cheeks were hollow and the bags under my eyes were almost black. My collarbone protruded from my chest and looked as sharp as a blade. My stomach begged for food. I looked back to the packages.

I reached into the fridge and grabbed one that looked small. I opened it up and a wine red organ laid inside the paper wrapping. It was a liver. Someone's liver. I placed the organ on a cutting board and held a knife to its surface. I pressed the knife down and watched as blood flowed from the cut and seeped into the wooden board. I stabbed a piece with a fork. I held it in front of my face. I gagged.

I know Hannibal had fed me human meat before but this time I knew what it was. I brought the soft organ to my mouth. It grazed my lips. Disgust overcame my hunger. I threw the fork and meat into the sink and ran to the bathroom. I retched into the toilet. I gagged and coughed, only a few spit ups of bile came from my already empty stomach. I used the back of my hand to wipe my mouth.

I brought Mischa back into the living room. I sat in front of the fire with her in my lap and wondered, which would be more painful starving or burning to death?

Mischa was weak she needed food soon or she would die. A wisp of hair fell into her eyes as she squinted. I tucked it behind her ear. Mischa curled her hands and yawned. I smiled. She was so beautiful and sweet. I held her to my chest and rocked back and forth. The warmth of the fire put her to sleep. I caressed her cheek.

I softly hummed the melody of a song I remember Hannibal played once on the piano. The notes sounded strangled coming from my sore throat. I wasn't in the snow anymore but I can still feel its effects. Mischa sunk deeper into my chest. Her small body rose and fell in sync with mine. I played with her hair and kissed her forehead.

I wanted to throw up again just thinking about how I almost ended her life before it even started. I held her close. I can't let her die now after everything, I owe her that much.

I placed Mischa on top of a pile of blankets as I went back to the kitchen. The liver sat on the counter staring back at me. I thought cooking it would make it more bearable to eat but even after I seared the organ it looked just as menacing. I closed my eyes. I'm doing this for Mischa. I swallowed a deep breathe and opened my eyes. I shoved the meat into my mouth, chewed, then swallowed.

It tasted like regular animal meat, which made eating the rest of the liver easier. After finishing it I realized how starved I was. My stomach begged for more. I cooked and ate the rest. I was too hungry to care who I was eating.

When I finished the last bite of what I think was a kidney, I looked down at my hands. They were stained red. I brought them to the sink and scrubbed them with soap and water. I watched red bleed into the drain. I bit my lip and scrunched my face up. I slid to the floor and brought my wet hands to my face. I could feel the wreckage of glassware and plates underneath me.

What did I do wrong? I worked at a job I loved and had my own house. Now I'm slowly freezing to death and eating human organs.

I stared at the floor through the gaps between my fingers. Where did this all go so wrong?

~~~

Thanks for waiting! New chapter on March 21st. The final chapter is coming soon. I'm still playing with the ending. If you have any suggestions for the ending of this series comment them.