Kaleidoscope of Death

CHAPTER 43: ADORNING A DREAM

The removal of the drop cloth unveiled the existence of an unfinished painting. Lin Qiushi stood aghast at the sight of the artwork before his eyes, "This is..."

"The Last Supper1," finished Ruan Nanzhu.

At first glance, the painting certainly bore resemblance to The Last Supper. The art piece vividly depicted the sublime, dramatic scene of a group of individuals sharing a final meal on a grand dining table. Yet, upon a closer look, one would discover that the people attending this classic dinner were not Christ and his twelve apostles. No, rather, it was them—that's right, every single one of them who had entered this door world were captured in this ­­­painting.

Ruan Nanzhu. Lin Qiushi. Tan Zaozao. Everyone. They were all gathered together at this large dinner table, either eating their worldly meals with their heads bowed or softly conversing with their neighbors.

This painting would've been fairly acceptable and far less shocking had it been a faithful representation of them, but, of course, that wasn't the case. Almost all of the figures illustrated in this art piece had no faces; they were left utterly bare of features. Lin Qiushi only managed to distinguish the characters in the painting because of the familiar clothes they were wearing.

"Her face has been drawn in." Ruan Nanzhu pointed towards a young woman at the corner of the painting. "She must be Xiao Su."

Lin Qiushi followed Ruan Nanzhu's extended finger and studied the spot he indicated. At the edge of the dining table sat a young woman whose face was pictured clearly. The expression on her face was not one of pleasure or serenity, but of indescribable horror and agitation, so vivid and lifelike. It was as if all the misery trapped within canvas had come to life with this one drip of colour from the painter's palette. The tormenting breath of despair caressed Lin Qiushi's being, insidiously embedding itself in the depths of his heart; he could distinctly feel these wretched emotions, as if he was a part of the painting itself.

Aside from this painting, there was nothing particularly noteworthy in this studio. After scouring the entire area in vain, Ruan Nanzhu didn't dare loiter here any longer. Without delay, he took Lin Qiushi out of the room and locked the door behind them.

Seeing them exit the studio, Tan Zaozao anxiously inquired about the situation inside, asking them wh­­­at they saw.

"A painting." Lin Qiushi revealed. "A painting of us having supper."

He described the picture he saw. After hearing the circumstances, Tan Zaozao gulped loudly and fearfully stammered, "T-that girl, Xiao Su...she really became a part of the painting, didn't she?"

"Mhm," supposed Ruan Nanzhu. "That seems to be the case. I want to check out the sixth floor."

Lin Qiushi supported his action, "Let's go."

The particular room they had in mind was the very place the steward strictly warned them of—the exhibition room of unfinished arts

As its name suggested, this warehouse was where incomplete paintings were being stored. Ruan Nanzhu instantly located the room on the sixth floor, effortlessly unlocked the door and entered with Lin Qiushi.

The dreary ambience of this unfinished exhibition room was slightly more tolerable than that of the atelier. At least the windows were not curtained off by drapes of the blackest ebony, and the room itself was relatively spacious.

Various abstract works of art were scattered about the interior of this room, decking the walls and grounds. Lin Qiushi casually scanned his surroundings, only to discover that several of these pieces remained unfinished, while a vast majority of these canvases were left bleached of colour and devoid of subject, utterly blank.