Gina found herself a bit at a loss for words.

After what happened yesterday and the day before seeing this woman again felt welcomed. But the woman’s smile froze when her blue eyes rest upon her casted-up wrist.

“Your wrist, did that happen when we parted ways?”

“This? Oh, no.” Gina shook her head. “This was at work. I had… an accident. It’s just a sprain though, I’ll be okay.”

The woman didn’t look all that convinced. “Are you sure? It looks like it hurts quite a bit.”

“Trust me, this is not the worst thing I’ve been through by far! I’ll be okay.”

The woman continued to stare at it with those piercing blue eyes of hers. “Still, if that’s the case, should you even be here drinking?”

“Oh, I’m not drinking, at least not alcohol, this is just Sprite.”

The woman looked confused as a frown lightly creased her brow. “Then why are you here and not resting at home?”

“The atmosphere.”

“Atmosphere?”

Gina shrugged as the woman sat next to her this time. “I know it’ll sound ridiculous, but I feel far more at home here than in my actual apartment. Here I can just vanish in a crowd, and not have to think or worry about anything. I can just watch people being people, watch the latest sports even though I don’t like it all that much or listen to tidbits of a conversation from the people around me. At school, I’m Ms. Miller, an English teacher that never even wanted to be a school teacher. But here, in this place, I can be no one. A shadow. Someone who could just disappear without a trace and no one would know.” She laughed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sound so depressing. I always just feel better when I’m not noticed, I’d rather be in the background than center stage.”

The woman remained silent as if she was patiently waiting to hear if Gina had anything else to say. But she didn’t, so Gina changed the topic off of herself.

“So, uh, what brings you back here?” Gina asked. “Did things not go well with your client that you mentioned yesterday?”

“No, things went well, from the looks of it the client in question will be very happy with what they’ve requested.” But before Gina could respond with congratulations. The woman’s worried expression returned as she continued to stare at Gina’s injury. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looks rather painful.”

Gina looked at it. “It is, but this is karma.”

“For what?”

“For what I let happen, I told you yesterday about what took place, how Amalie had been bullied and she just snapped. This afternoon I was approached by a man, someone who I thought I liked, but… it was like a veil was lifted. And the man I once knew had completely disappeared and been replaced by someone who’s just if not worse than those in my family. It made me feel sick. And if I go home now, I’ll just be bombarded by calls and texts berating me. And I don’t want that. I don’t have the energy for it. Not now.”

The woman was silent for a moment. “Is there anything I could do to help?”

“Not unless you have some way to get them to stop,” Gina stated before sighing. “But don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay. To be honest, I’m thinking about quitting…” But only when I know for certain that Amalie is alright. I want to make sure that she and Mia will be okay.

If only it could be that easy.

“Sorry, I’m probably not the best company to be in right now. I’m just…” she sighed again. “Just trying to figure everything out for myself. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Why not go for a walk then?” the woman offered. “The fresh air may help in clearing your mind about what you want to do.”

Gina thought about it, since she wasn’t drinking, she figured what did she have to lose at this point?

“Sure, why not?” she got up off the stool after paying the bartender and headed out with the woman not far behind. The night cool nighttime air had yet to really turn cold until mid to late October to the beginning of November. So, seeing this woman dressed in clothes that were closer to late fall or winter and not sweating buckets said a lot. Maybe she was just more susceptible to the cold? Just because someone lived in Canada didn’t mean you had to have a tolerance for it, you just had to deal with it. Perhaps this was her way.

Though seeing her dressed in an outfit similar to what she wore when they first spoke to each other, wearing a dark red burgundy turtleneck and a long black skirt that moved elegantly when she walked. She even still had the same shoes.

While in comparison…

Gina felt like she was inadequate. Being as a person, or as a woman. Nothing she ever did felt right. Unless it was art, but even then, she had no choice but to do that in secret.

It made her think of Layla’s brother Darcy.

It was because of Darcy, that Gina wore long skirts, the way he was always so confident in women’s clothes, made her wish she was more like him. Hell, he could even make stiletto heels look easy. Even the woman walking beside her made it all look so effortless, but all Gina could ever do would only be a cheap imitation. She was never confident in herself. Not even to stand up to her parents.

“I always find the night to be beautiful,” the woman spoke, drawing Gina from her thoughts. “Even in the worst of times, walking like this can help clear the mind.”

“You walk around late at night?”

“All the time,”

That shocked Gina. “But that’s dangerous!”

The woman gave her a questioning stare. “How so?”

Was she serious?

Regardless of how she thought, she still needed to be careful, what if someone wanted to take advantage of her? Or worse?

And as if sensing Gina’s worry, the woman gave a subtle smile. “I do know that the world can be terrifying, but only if you let it. Of course, not everything can be avoided, sadly.” Her gaze went to Gina. “Even still, you shouldn’t let it stop you from living the life you wish, no matter who gets in your way. Including family.”

“Even if your parents are controlling?”

The woman gave a look, a cold one, at least in her eyes as she smiled. “Yes,”

Gina fought off a chill, that one word held so much weight.

But the slight dull ache in her wrist was a grave reminder of what would happen if she went against someone who she defied.

But then the woman stopped walking, her attention drawn to something across the street. Gina’s gaze followed only to quickly look away when seeing someone she recognized. Nick was across the street with at least three other men that were of equal stature to him.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

As if noticing this, the woman took Gina’s right hand and quickly walked into a nearby alleyway to avoid them. After a minute, the woman let go of Gina’s hand and asked. “Do you see them still?”

Gina walked the short distance past the woman to peek out of the alley, from the looks of it Nick and his buddies hadn’t seen her. Thank goodness. “They’re gone, I think they went to another bar down the street.” She then felt off, the hair on the back of her neck standing up as she looked behind herself to see the woman watching her, hands behind her back. For a moment, Gina felt like the woman was reaching for her, was she only imagining things?

“That’s a relief, it looked like you recognized one of them.”

“Yeah… I did.”

The woman’s blue gaze rested on Gina’s injured wrist. “Did he hurt you?”

Gina paused, the tone in the woman’s voice had changed. She almost sounded angry.

“I was stupid,” Gina admitted with a sigh. “I knew he just wanted me for sex, simple and easy. And I was fine with it, until… until he…”

“Until he changed.” The woman finished.

Gina readjusted her bag as her hands gripped the strap tightly trying not to shake. “Yeah… he scared me. Still scares me. And I work with that bastard…”

The woman was silent for a moment then merely walked past Gina and back to the main street, silently waiting for Gina to join her, which she did.

“Did you ever notice anything about that man? Something you may originally have ignored in the past? Something you thought wasn’t important?”

Gina thought about it, nothing overly apparent came to mind. Although… “He always seemed to look at other women, like he was judging them based on their appearance. Like he’s giving them approval or finds them ugly.”

“And when he’s working with children?”

She thought about it. “Not that I’m aware. But…”

“Yes?”

“I’m not sure if it’s anything, but I’ve seen him trying to talk with Amalie.”

She scowled. “The radio host’s daughter? Whatever for?”

Gina shrugged. “I have no clue, I asked Nick once, but he brushed it off as wanting to try and get her to join in group activities. But she always avoids him, I think she dislikes him.” Gina gave a short laugh. “She has way better instincts than me, that’s for sure.”

“It might not just be her,” the woman offered. “There could also be others that might be too scared to say anything out loud. Or even act aggressively because they can’t say what they want with words. Or might not be believed.”

The moment the woman said that Gina immediately thought of Mia. She might also have had issues with Nick at some point too.

I’ll have to check tomorrow before class starts and keep a better eye on the students. Though she was no detective, Gina hoped to try and gain a better understanding of her students before something terrible happened.

No, before something terrible happened again. After all, one student who moved away drowned not long after. The final moments for that boy must have been painful.

And Amalie, Amalie seemed to be aware of it all. She was the type to merely watch and listen, so she must have heard something from those gossiping teachers.

If only she’d come back to school.

Gina sighed; overthinking would do nothing to help with the situation. So, she sought to change the topic off of her for a bit. “Do you mind if I ask you something about your job?”

“I can’t speak of current jobs, but sure. What would you like to know?”

“What’s the most interesting thing you’ve worked on with collectors?”

The woman pondered that. “The most interesting thing I’ve worked on…” she repeated. “Hmmm, well, there are several. Although out of all of them, there was one particular job that does come to mind.”

“Was it a painting of some kind?”

“Well, aren’t you perceptive, but this particular painting holds more deathly connotations than others.” When Gina looked at the woman with a perplexed expression she continued. “It, along with others in this collection, was done by an unknown artist. But this artist was known for doing something unique.”

“What would that be?”

“This artist would have blood mixed in with the paints.”

Gina grew wide. “What?”

“Oh, that’s not the bad part I was referring to.” She said plainly as she waved her hand dismissively. “Many pieces of art have human blood or other bodily liquids in the paint itself. Not all, but over time, and with the growth of technology, many old historical paintings have found blood within the paint. It’s even something that goes as far back as 20,000 years, when those of our ancestors painted on cave walls what they saw be it animal, human, or preserved as a god, using their own blood to make such vibrant colours that still last to this very day.”

Gina knew of this; she did manage to sneak in an art history course while convincing her parents it was so she could have more knowledge for teaching. It was clearly a lie, but they didn’t know any better.

But something about this didn’t seem right.

“Wait, you said so yourself that artists use their own blood, or whatever else in their artwork, if that’s something, albeit not always done, what’s so special about this artist?”

There was a moment of silence, then the woman smiled, and for whatever reason, it was almost a knowing type of smile.

“These paintings in question were from the 1800s, the painter’s only been identified as Newt, he, or she, or however they identified, always had a newt in the paintings regardless of the scene. It was discovered that Newt would use blood in their paintings. But, strangely enough, there were several different blood types.”

Gina was silent for a moment. “Is this Newt possibly a Chimera?”

A Chimera, while also seen in fantasy novels and Greek mythology, was also very, very real that existed in the world. But not in the way some people would think.

Human beings who are Chimera’s are those who have two sets of DNA. Not from the father or mother, but from a third. That is with fraternal twins and one embryo dies very early on and the other embryo absorbs its twin’s cells. Some would find that morbid or disgusting, but it could also happen to a person when someone receives a bone marrow transplant.

“Well, some scholars did think that, at first. Until they tested different paints and found that there were not two blood types, but five. O positive, A negative, AB positive, B negative and O negative.”

Gina had a sudden sense of foreboding. “What does that mean?”

“It means that Newt most likely took blood from other people, not themself. And that brought on even greater questions, some think that Newt might have been a doctor, but given that blood transfusions were still a work in progress, some came to a ghastlier idea.” The woman leaned in close and practically whispered in Gina’s ear even though the street was almost devoid of people. “That the painter, Newt, was really a serial killer.”

Gina shuddered. “Do you think they were?”

“Whose to say?” the woman said with a shrug. “Though if we go with the concept that this elusive painter was indeed a murderer it brings more questions to the table. If more testing were to be done on the paint, and if, one day, we could find out whose blood was whom, their age, gender, race, then it falls to just how many people did Newt actually kill?”

Somehow the whole thing with Nick felt surprisingly tiny in comparison to this. “I don’t think I’d want to know…” she admitted.

“You wouldn’t be alone in that, though, because of such notoriety those paintings are now worth a small fortune.”

That didn’t surprise Gina in the slightest, given how so much of the world, for one reason or another, would and could be obsessed with serial killers. Like Carole Ann Boone who married Ted Bundy while he was in prison. Granted, she divorced the fucker but still… That alone made Gina shudder.

“To some people,” the woman continued as they walked. “Artwork drawn by a hidden killer is a marvel and something coveted by those obsessed with the macabre.”

“Do you deal with people who like that rather often?”

“Not really, no. That’s probably the only time, that’s recent, at least.”

Gina didn’t know how to respond but then noticed that they were getting close to her apartment, just at least two blocks away. She hadn’t even noticed since Gina was engrossed in the story the woman was telling.

The woman then suddenly stopped walking. “Speaking of obsessed, it seems that we’re being followed.”

Gina froze and quickly turned around but saw no one there. When she looked back at the woman with a confused frown, she saw that the woman was looking across the street. Gina followed her gaze only to have a sudden sense of dread. The men that were with Nick were across the street watching them. With rather unsavoury looks on their faces.

And they began to approach which heightened as her mind entered panic mode.

But before Gina had the chance to say anything, the woman said something that surprised her. “Your home isn’t far from here; go on, it seems that these men have an interest in you for whatever reason.”

Gina froze looking at the woman in aghast. “What?” what’s more, it seemed that this woman knew why they were interested in her, given that Nick was with them not long before.

The woman looked at Gina with the utmost seriousness. “Go, Ms. Miller. I’ll be fine. I promise. It’s not the first time I’ve dealt with such people with unsavoury intentions.”

“But…”

“Please,” she implored. “Go,”

Gina hesitated, but something deep, deep down, told her to listen to the woman and leave as quickly as possible.

“Good evening gentlemen.” The woman said rather loudly to draw their attention as the four men approached her. “Is there something I can help you with? Or... did you want something with a friend of mine?”

One man, who was slightly taller than her looked down at her mockingly as he practically shouted in the woman’s face as she looked at him, and the others with a dissatisfied expression. “You’re her friend? Then you’re a slut just like her, we were told she’d be easy for a good time.”

“Oh? Is that so? Well then, let me tell you, I’m far more fun than she’d ever be.” The woman then did something they found unexpected. The woman smiled at them. But her smile, while they thought was seductive, was, in actuality, rather cruel and calculating with those cold blue eyes. “Why don’t I show you exactly what I mean?”

The men laughed, thinking that they would have fun with this particular woman,

Unaware, that this night, would ultimately be their last.