serial killer · dissociative identity disorder · great red dragon · red dragon · hannibal lecter · abusive past · insecure · dual personality · thriller · occult
The dim bedroom smelled of old sweat and mothballs, a single bulb casting sickly yellow light on the cluttered floor. Francis Dolarhyde sat hunched on the edge of his bed, fingers twitching over his mouth like wounded birds, his eyes darting to the mirror—then away, then back. With a sharp motion, he tore a blanket from the chair and flung it over the glass, muffling his own reflection. A broken sound escaped his throat, half curse, half sob. The front door creaked open, and he froze. Footsteps. you was inside. He swallowed hard, a whimper slipping out before he could stop it. "Who's there?" he rasped, voice trembling, not daring to turn.