Crawling on his knees, he approached the frame that previously housed a lady. “She's left…” He paused for a moment. He felt a sensation of irritation and inflammation as he grabbed his throat. Sweat and saliva trickled down his face while clinging to his clothes. He panted so loudly as he ended up sounding like a dog.
He stood up and took hold of the varnished canvas with both hands, studying every detail that might offer him any indication of what kind of nightmare he had encountered. No matter how long he looked at it, that be from the back or the sides, it merely felt like a regular item from the earth realm. There wasn't anything special about it.
“The paint is not mixed with any types of blood, and the frame and fabric appear to be handmade.” He retrieved a luminescence shell compact containing Merfolks Pearl Powder from within his bag, then began dabbing a bit onto his brush. He layered the parts of the missing lady where she once was.
He peered back at the fire. It wasn't making the situation any better, but at least it was keeping its distance from him for now. He repeated the powdering process several times, until a solid, vibrantly colored layer appeared, but no matter how much powder he applied, nothing happened. “GET OOOOUUT!” The ghastly cry of that woman seemed as if she were inside the fire.
Having nearly enough, Loki stood up, removing the sweat from his brow, ready to fight whatever cursed demon thing this painted lady was. He threw his bag over his shoulder, wrapping it around his torso, preparing for whatever little magical essence he had stored away.
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He fixed his vision so that he could see inside the fire, and she was there, her arms wrapped towards herself as she cried to herself. Her skin was severely damaged all over, including her arms, legs, and the side of her torso. The charred fabric fused within the figure of her body, the mid-waist length, dark raven blue hair scorched to her ears, while half of her face bared a set of canine to molars. She was hardly recognizable from how she used to look in the painting earlier.
Despite the physical impact the fire was having on her body, she showed no emotional reaction to the flames. When the realization was connected to this strange scenario, his eyes widened. “She’s already dead.” He pressed his hand to his mouth when he accidentally uttered those words.
When he felt a numbness cross his legs, he stumbled backward, catching the painting before it hit the ground. He reached for the easel for support. He was unconsciously forcing all of his essences to accumulate on one part of his body, in preparation for a flight or flight response.
Back up against the corner of the wall, the brunt-painted lady didn’t seem as though she was going to stop shrieking any time soon. It mostly only had the effect of making Loki cower onto the floor. Her outcries were getting wilder with each of the new verbal gashes hitting his ears, which was enough to foresee who was going to win if she were to attack him.
The thought of running spiraled around his head, he wanted to do just that, but his body was unable to move at all. His vision was also not helping him, and he was rapidly moving into panic mode, with his breathing growing heavier. She looked him straight in the eye, while she was on all fours, with the tears still running down her face. She didn't move an inch, she remained inside the fire as if it were her protection or her curse of some sort.
Loki stepped away from the wall, keeping his head turned away from the dead woman, and accidentally stepped on the picture frame. The woman flew at him out of sheer annoyance at destroying something that wasn't his.
When the image of his sister appeared in his head, he unwittingly opened a portal with the remaining essence he had assembled earlier. He realized that he didn't know where she could be at that moment, after he had been kicked and knocked out. “Help me.” He uttered a soft whimper. He needed to find her soon.