I finally watched the last episode of Hannibal yesterday evening (no real spoilers ahead). I’ve been putting it off because I was afraid to see it end– fearing emotional overload or gore overload or both. the series is not something I would normally watch but I’m glad I had the experience of watching it. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed the program itself exactly, the overall style wasn’t really to my liking, but I did enjoy seeing Richard stretch himself in the acting department. I can truthfully say that I was scared of him several times throughout the story. I’ve tried to resist spoilers as much as my curiosity would let me and I think I did well, all things considered (i.e.Tumblr) but I did see mentions of people raving about the finale, how emotional it was and how it was a fitting ending and how the song enhanced the scene, etc. etc. so I went in with expectations– never good for me–and came out sorely disappointed.
I did really like the scene with Reba and the locking of the door, but this post isn’t a review of the episode or the series, it concerns what happened after…yep, it’s dream time! early on, after only the second episode of Richard’s, I had a Stockholm Syndrome type dream starring Dolarhyde, myself, and his house–I have a bit of a crush on his house.
I had yet to really experience Richard’s characterization of Dolarhyde, but the small glimpse I had seen caused me to have a very vivid dream that was equal parts scary and confusing, because of the loyalty I grew to feel towards him. Richard’s voice as Dolarhyde alone, really infused that character with a certain kind of depth that pulled me in like a magnet. and it was that feeling that dominated the dream I had last night as well, only this time it was much scarier and even more confusing.
The beginning of the dream is a bit murky in my memory. it involved Dolarhyde and Hannibal chasing me, with Hannibal nipping at my ankles like a dog and Dolarhyde fending him off. Will was with me and we ducked into what we initially thought was a shopping mall but turned out to be a children’s school. we thought there would be enough people around to afford us some time to catch our breath and formulate some kind of plan. the next thing I knew, Hannibal, myself, and Dolarhyde (though he was more The Dragon at that point) were in a small, underused cafeteria. Dolarhyde was ready to be “changed” and he wanted Hannibal to talk him through it. I was scared shitless, just standing there hoping that I wouldn’t be forced to take part in any way.
it seems as if Dolarhyde and I had cultivated a friendship at one time, during his struggle with the Dragon but before it had all escalated, and so I was upset that I was going to loose my friend. he was still in there somewhere, existing alongside the Dragon. Dolarhyde started removing the layers of clothing he was wearing. he tossed a sweater at my feet and I picked it up, hugged it to my chest, while giving it a nostalgic sniff. he saw me do this and stopped his movements.
I became really scared, not knowing whether I had offended him or not. then he said, in his dark methodical voice, “you may wear the Dragon’s coverings, when you find the need”, like he was giving me permission and bestowing upon me a high honor. he beckoned Hannibal forward then and dismissed me, so I backed out of the room slowly.
I joined Will at the open doors, where he had been watching. the bell of the school rang, surprising Dolarhyde and unnerving him. Hannibal calmly told him that it was the school bell because we were in a school. then Hannibal started singing “Jesus loves the little children” and it was creepy as hell! Will and I looked at each other in a panic, not wanting the children to see what was about to happen, so we closed the doors to the room and stood guard. most of the kids moved along and didn’t pay us any mind but one boy stopped to look through the windows of the doors and exclaimed how cool the life-size anatomy model looked. as I was shooing him away he asked if he could touch the intestine. I looked at Will, horrified. I had avoided looking in the room myself but Will was watching and told me that Dolarhyde was willingly being disembowel by Hannibal. I stumbled out the doors of the building after that.
I desperately needed to decompress and get my head straight. I was feeling all kinds of conflicting emotions, horror and fear but also sadness and compassion, on top of a begrudging respect for the Dragon. I spotted a bench across the parking lot, located at the side of a maintenance garage, and so I started towards it. I was in a daze and nearly missed being hit by a car that was driving through the parking lot, when I noticed a man walking parallel to me. I weaved my path a bit to see if he would stick with me and he did. I glanced at the man and he was definitely not friendly.
I thought, “and the hits keep coming! I so do not need this right now!” the man scared me, uttering verses from the Book of Revelation about horsemen and angels, but he also made me very angry. I needed to mourn my friend, not deal with whatever brand of insanity this guy had going on!
I purposefully put on the shirt that Dolarhyde had given me and then stopped walking, the man did too. he blankly stared at me as he pulled a book of matches from his pocket. I looked around and realized the pavement outside of the garage was covered in spilled gasoline and patches of rainbowed oil. as I turned back towards the man, he lit a match and dropped it. oh, it is ON now! I lunged at him and we fell to the ground wrestling.
he was smaller in stature so he didn’t automatically overpower me but I was struggling. I finally got the upper hand and pinned him to the ground. this seemed amazing to me because I was not in particularly good shape and I had spent the whole day running from Hannibal. I felt like the shirt was giving me some sort of power, whether it be physical or only mental.
it was difficult to keep the man subdued though so I screamed out for Will, hoping he was just inside the doors and could hear me. as the fire started to spread, I screamed out a second time, while emotionally trying to keep myself together because my anger had turned back to fear–I was about to lose it and just deconstruct on the spot. as a last ditch effort I called out to Hannibal, not particularly loud and kind of on the end of a sob. suddenly the man stopped struggling underneath me and I felt him lift his head as I had my face pushed into his back. he whispered an awed “fuck”. then I heard Hannibal ask calmly “you called, my dear?” …and then I woke up.
my heart was pounding and I felt like I was drowning in that vulnerable feeling you get after having a nightmare, but then I laughed to myself and thought “and that’s how a finale is done! #micdrop”
(when you start dreaming in hashtags, maybe it’s time to back away from Twitter)
Nowhere in Particular RA 