Mary stared dully at the canvas in front of her, trying to decide if another splash of the violently yellow paint would be overdoing it. If it had been a personal piece (assuming she’d suffered a stroke and felt the need to paint something like this on her own), there wouldn’t have been a question at the level of tackiness it would bring. However, this was for a client brought to her by Andrew Stone, and thus required a different set of aesthetics.

As she absently added more of the thick paint to the canvas, her thoughts drifted to Emily downstairs. She hoped her friend was having a better time with her project than she was, and wondered how long she’d be able to keep faking her way through piece after piece of soulless art.

With a heavy sigh, she took her brush from the canvas. She was about to add another bit of red to one of the corners when she heard the door to her studio open.

Mary: "Em, I'm almost done for the night. Give me a few more seconds."
Chris: "It's one for the ages, love."

Mary: "Who the hell—"
Chris: “I really don’t have a lot of time for introductions, but I promise we’ll have plenty of time to talk later.”

Mary took a stumbling step backwards, trying to get beyond the reach of the grinning blond man, but he was far too fast for her. He shot forward in a blur of inhuman speed, grabbing her and covering her mouth before she’d even had a chance to inhale to scream. She was able to put up a struggle for quite a few seconds before the room was going grey at the edges, and then there was nothing.