Mona is plagued by a curse that claims every suitor of hers. After each disappearance, a sick warning from a peculiar admirer came in a form of well painted portraits of her.
She was his favorite muse just as her suitor's blood was his favorite colo...
Love is a poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same. -George R. R. Martin
Shawn's foot stamped at the pedal of his Mercedez, which he personally used to reach the location at a faster speed, itching to get to the location where Xavier's faint signal was detected.
It was 4 in the morning with the darker hue slowly transitioned to that of the lighter one as dusk droke to dawn.
The past 12 hours have been torture and it showed, sparing a glance at an even worse figure beside him. Hugo looked out of sorts, restless even as he kept his eye darted on the road.
Shawn's mind flew back to the events prior to this chase. Everything was set. He found nothing odd the moment Mona and Xavier arrived at the rendezvous point. All surveillance cameras were up and running, men were in position waiting for command until everything was cut.
Camera feeds were blacked out. Signals were jammed. Ground people were unresponsive.
Shit! He slammed at his stirring wheel, furious at how the clever madman got away with 6 of the finest people he has dead, leaving one critical.
Yet he couldn't linger at the crime scene, all he could do was bring reinforcements to clean up the crime scene for he needed to track Mona's whereabouts. Xavier has been effecient leading them to the culprit but vanished without a trace in a secluded area.
They barely tracked Xavier down due to the signal jams interrupting the tracking process which took them a total of 12 hours leading them to this burnt down building in the middle of the woods.
"Officer Dawson, parameters have been secured. You may proceed inside." a cop saluted to Shawn while relaying his report as he saluted back. He manuevered past the other officers towards the center of room.
There she was.
Breathing.
Alive.
He let out a sigh, at the very least his men's sacrifice were not put in vain.
Yet the closer he got inside the bizarre feeling in his stomach turned into that of suffocation as he surveyed her limp figure in a chair adorned with immaculately white roses drizzled with the leftover crimson carnage of what was painted at the wall behind her.
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It was marvelous. The way it was drawn using the elements of the charred wall was extraordinaire yet horrendous at the same time. He hurried to Mona to check on her with medic on his trail.
