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Summary
Will Graham stepped out of his car and looked up at the large house that stood in front of him. It was black in colour, beautiful architecture. It looked like it was pulled straight out of the Victorian Era. Will walked through the opened iron gates and up the path. To his right there was an impressive garden. Will could smell a delightful combination of herbs, fruits, and vegetables. It was all overpowered by the smell of freshly cut grass and wet tarmac after the rain of earlier that day.
He took a deep breath and knocked with an iron, lion-shaped door handle. Only a few seconds passed until the door was opened. Will had been looking down at the floor and he knew if he wanted to be given the all-clear he'd have to make even a little eye contact, so he looked up.
A beautiful man. European, maybe? He was wearing a red suit. He had pale skin and greying hair. He smiled warmly down at Will standing on the doorstep.
"You must be Will Graham." The man said, as he outstretched a hand. "My name is Hannibal Lecter."