Tainted

Chapter 8

I put my hand to my mouth to stop myself from blowing chunks everywhere as I watch Vincent drop the woman on a silver table , the stench of blood in the air ,making the metallic scent of the metal plated walls and doors stronger .

"You're a mad man ." I choke and turn around , refusing to look at the sight behind me .

"From your view , I am . "He pauses and the sound of metal clanking against each other makes me cringe .
"From where I'm standing , I'm just a man trying to survive in this wretched world. "

"Paint exists !" I protest and turn to yell at him but freeze when I see him sliding his knife deep into the flesh of the woman , the blade slicing from the top of her forearm to the bottom of her wrist. Blood sprays out like a fountain before the pressure decreases and the blood slowly pools out of her .

I turn back around and try to forget the image of the blood .

This isn't real.

"It doesn't give the artwork the raw crimson color I'm looking for . "He laughs as the sound of more blood spraying makes me dig my fingers into my ears to block out the noise.

Jesus fucking christ what have I gotten myself into?

Abuse is one thing , murder is another , but the one that takes the cake is using human blood for painting .

Vincent is a psycho !

If I'm not careful he might decide to make me into one of his paintings too...

How can I get out of this?

Maybe , if I pretend to fear him enough to keep my mouth shut , he'll trust me enough to leave me alone . That's when I can set up the right ambush for the police to come here and find this ...bloody chamber.

I feel a forceful tug on my arm, pulling my finger out my ear and forcing me to turn around . I stare up at a grinning Vincent who holds a knife in his hand .
"I've been calling you ,Love. "He chuckles and tosses the knife across the room . I flinch as the knife lands on the floor , the loud metal scraping against the stone floor echoing through the room.

"What do you need?" I swallow and stare dead into his eyes , trying my hardest to not look at the bleeding out corpse of a woman on the table.

"I want to show you my studio ."his smile changes from sinister to sweet in a matter of seconds as he slowly holds my hand and pulls me to follow him.

How is this the same person who just killed someone ?

It's almost as if he has more than one personality .

I cringe as the image of the hand holding mine stabbing someone refuses to leave my brain.
The same hand that took someone's life is holding my hand so gently and caring .

It's disgusting.

Vincent opens one of the metal doors and pulls me up a wooden staircase covered in a thick layer of dust . It's quite narrow so Vincent is forced to let go of my hand , allowing me to get enough distance from him as he walks ahead.

"I haven't been here in a while. About five months?" He laughs and runs his hand along the textured wall painted terribly.

I frown as I stare at the horrible state of the building, from what I've seen, it could be used as a homeless shelter.

Vincent has so much money , yet his studio looks like a poor man's house .

"I thought you only recently finished your paintings ?" I ask , trying to keep him happy with my answers.

Vincent waits to answer as we make it to the top of the stairs and enter a large and spacious room with incomplete paintings lying everywhere . Thick books are stacked in corners as pages from magazines lie on the ground , discarded after use.