The smell of freshly made coffee brewed its way from the kitchen to the outdoor patio. The size of the patio room was the same as a regular bedroom. The only different, however, was the fact that most of the wall was glass. Medium sized shelves were color organized with expensive oil paints and regular coffee mugs filled with difference kind of brushes. Each shelf held a different kind of paint, some were mats, some were shimmers and we finally had the oil paints - the most expensive kind. The painting easel was placed in the middle of the room with a canvas covered by a silk white sheet. Michael always had the habit of making sure no one else saw his paintings until he was done. He didn't consider himself an artist, no never that; he considered himself more of a prodigy of a force of energy that was evil and morbid -much like the voices that spoke to him in his mind and told him what and how to paint. The prodigy walked from the kitchen to the painting room with a coffee mug in grip. He raised the cup to his lips softly and carefully, and even though he could already feel the heat of the coffee hitting against his top inner lip, Michael proceeded onto taking a long sip from that delicious morning coffee. He stopped in front of the painting with coffee in grip and looked at the silk cloth as it covered the painted canvas. Michael reached for the painting and held it carefully from the corners, he made sure his fingers did not top the canvas, his hands held natural body oils that could destroy his master piece and that was something that he would not condone with.
Walking out of the painting room with the canvas held tightly against his chest, Michael walked pass his kitchen and finally stopped at the door that lead down to the cellar. Usually people tried to avoid going down to the basement due to fear of the 'boogeyman' coming out from underneath the stairs, or any other child-like fear; but Michael on the other hand, he embraced his fears and used them as fuel. Opening the door, Michael looked down at the stairs and felt a sigh of relief escape his lips. He didn't understand why the basement brought him such relief, made all his stress and worries just vanish like a magician pulling out a white rabbit from his top hat. The basement for Michael was like a playground for a child. He played and played in the basement with all of his toys until he felt his body grow tired. Closing and locking the door behind, Michael continued to walk down the narrow wooden stairs. Each step that he gave made a small creaking noise, it was obvious that the stairs were old and were in need of major repairing. Michael could feel his heart begin to thud rapidly in his throat, could feel his stomach turning into knots. Once he was finally at the bottom of the stairs, Michael reached for the switch on the right and flipped the switch on. A bright yellow nearly blinding light emerged from a hanging bulb. "Good morning Serah." Michael said in a soft voice while carefully placing his painting on the easel. The female squinted, her eyes still adjusting to the bright light. Michael walked back to the female and stood in front of her while she sat on a steel chair. Her hands bind behind her with rope, her legs and feet bind together all with the same rope. Some people called it bondage, Michael called it a different form of art. Her mouth was covered with a grey square piece of duck tape. Serah's precious crystal blue eyes held fear and shined with tears that slithered down her face.
Michael smiled sweetly, like if he was an actual good person -whatever the fuck that was suppose to mean. "Now, I am going to take off this tape. And if you scream, well we both know what happens." The fragile female nodded her head and off went the piece of tape from her mouth. "I've got a surprise for you Serah." Michael said with excitement in his voice, his hands reached behind to loosen the knots. Once Serah was free, he placed both of his hands on her forearms and walked her forcefully toward the easel. Serah tried her hardest to loosen the grip but failed, Michael was a man and it was obvious that Michael was stronger than Serah by nature; there just was no way she would out run him. "Please, let me go. I did nothing to you." Michael turned around to face her, releasing one hand, he caressed the side of her face repeatedly and fiddled with loose strands of her hair. "Oh hush hush now, you'll ruin the big surprise." Serah continued to cry but knew this had become her fate. Reaching for the silk cloth and throwing it to the floor, Michael released Serah as she stopped fighting when she saw the painting. He moved to the side and looked from the painting to the female who stood in shock. His arms crossed over his chest while a smirk plastered itself across his handsome face. "Well, don't you like it?" He asked taking a few steps forward. "I think I really captured your eyes through the light." He chuckled, he just couldn't help it. The painting consisted of the female on the floor with her throat cut out, her body covered in a crimson pool of blood.
The female turned around to look at Michael, fell down to her knees and hugged his legs. "Please! Please let me go. I don't want to die here." She said in whimper. Michael frowned and turned to look back at the painting, "You didn't like my painting?" Obviously he was ignoring her pleads, all he could think about was his painting and if she liked it or not. Walking away from Serah while she continued to cry on the floor, her face buried on the floor. Michael walked over to the stereo and clicked "play" and "repeat" on the CD button. Edith Piaf - La foule began softly play. Reaching for the scalpel, Michael lowered himself and placed the edge of the knife of Serah's throat. One quick movement and the blade sliced through the skin of her throat like sweet melting butter. Blood gashed and poured like sweet fine wine. Placing the scalpel back on the table, Michael cleaned his hands with the silk cloth from the floor. He turned to look at Serah as he watched the life leave her body rapidly. Once her body stopped moving, Michael walked over to her lifeless body and picked it up. He placed his right arm on her waist and held her left hand with his. The music continued to play and Michael waltz'ed with Serah's dead body all over the basement like the two were in some great ballroom where they could lose themselves into the music and fine bubbling champagne. As he passed the stereo, he maxed the volume of the stereo and continued to dance in circles with her dead body.