Chapter 4: Escape The Chase Narrowly

Roxanne held her breath and listened for noises outside the restroom. The footsteps really stopped in front of the row of the restroom.

“Don't hide anymore. I can smell you,” said the painter's evil spirit, scaring Roxanne.

A sound rang out. Something just fell to the ground. The item was getting closer and closer to the restroom where Roxanne was hiding. It stopped at the last one. Roxanne waited for a few minutes to pass, but nothing strange happened. She slowly sat down and looked at the gap under the door.

Roxanne almost sat down on the dirty ground. Luckily she was able to grab a brick that was slightly protruding from the wall. Through that opening, the woman's head was staring inside. Her head was upside down causing all of her hair to stick to the floor and spread out into the restroom. The woman's eyes, which were always closed, now opened wide to reveal each white. The host's blood still stuck in her mouth was trickling down her eyes. All create a very scary scene.

"I've seen you," the woman's head said hoarsely with an amused laugh.

Roxanne trembled incessantly. Her face turned pale and she had no strength left. She couldn't believe that an artist could turn his wife's head into such a tool to detect other people.

“Good job, honey,” the painter stood outside the row of restrooms and applauded, “Hurry and bring that girl out.”

The artist's words just ended. The woman's head rolled away and slammed into the restroom door at the end of the block. Roxanne immediately stood up. She didn't want to give up like that. Roxanne used her whole body weight to hold onto the door so that it wouldn't burst open with each thrust from the woman's head. The door shook violently, causing Roxanne's hands to gradually become numb. If the woman's head kept going, she thought that the door and she couldn't stand it either.

“What should I do? I don't want to die," Roxanne mumbled, clutching the door tightly. Her spirit seemed to be no longer alert to this terrifying situation. Death was near to her.

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

A loud noise suddenly came from outside. The restroom door no longer shakes. Roxanne was bewildered and did not understand what had happened. She mustered up her courage and stooped again to see the slit. The woman's head was no longer there.

“The bouncing scream belongs to the artist's spirit,” Roxanne murmured. She wanted to see what was going on outside, but she worried that this was just the artist's spirit deceiving her. As long as she got out, he would arrest her. However, She couldn't stay here forever.

Roxanne was still debating whether to go out or not. Outside, an explosion resounded with the painter's roar.

"Who are you?" the painter shouted at the man in front of him. One of his hands was mutilated, even though ordinary objects or fire had no effect on him.

“I am the demon general in hell. I'm here to arrest you," said a deep voice. Roxanne tilted her head slightly because it felt familiar.

"The demon general?" Roxanne couldn't contain her curiosity. She mustered up the courage to open the door a crack and poke her head out, but her eyes were still closed. She counted one, two, three, and then opened her eyes wide in surprise. There was really no one outside.

Roxanne cautiously stepped out and looked around. When she was sure the artist's spirit didn't jump out to scare her, she stepped out of the row of the restroom. However, Roxanne immediately hid inside the wall of the restroom again. Outside, the artist's spirit was standing opposite a strange man.

Roxanne saw that no one noticed her, so she stuck her head out a little and peeked. When she saw the man's figure clearly through the moonlight, she frowned. Was not that the boy with the scholarly appearance? Now, that boy was putting his hands in his pockets and looking bored at the artist's spirit.

“You should let go and follow me to hell. Your sins were well documented. Don't make any more mistakes," said the young man in a steely voice. The pressure from him to succeed scared the artist's spirit.

"No. I'm not going anywhere. My dream has not come true yet. I died unjustly,” the painter shook his head and shouted.

“Because of your greed, you traded one life after another. This will only increase your guilt rather than help you gain popularity,” the demon general told the truth about the law of cause and effect.

"Impossible! That demon said it would make me famous if I gave it fresh blood and soul,” said the painter, who lost his footing and stammered.

That year, the artist wanted to give up his passion. He was able to last as long as possible because of the encouragement of his wife who always believed in some of his talents. She stood up to take over the family estate of her husband's side and hers. She put all the work into her body just so that her husband could put all into painting.

On a moonlit night, the artist was sitting alone in his own gallery. There were crumpled sheets of paper on the ground. Moments later, the palm tree in the artist's hand fell. He suddenly stood up and pushed down the picture stand. He swatted the art supplies off the table.

“AHHHHHHH! Why can't I draw anything real?" Edward slammed his hand down on the empty and water-stained table.

Edward slowly sat down in his chair. He put his hands on his head and sobbed. Perhaps he was too tired to be ridiculed by the world about his works and the great expectations of his family and his wife. Edward sat there alone until he fell asleep.

A dream is like an omen. Edward found himself walking on a busy city street. Everyone was busy with their own work. When they saw Edward, they all stopped everything. Edward was apprehensive about this crowd. He shrank slightly and lowered his face to the ground. This was a common phenomenon that occurred when Edward is out on the street. He always felt that those people were scrutinizing and examining him.

Just as Edward thought, whispers began to appear. He wanted to get out of here quickly, but suddenly a line of people blocked the front. Edward wanted to find another way, but they surrounded him. When he didn't know what to do, the people on the street gave heartwarming smiles.

“Oh, Mr. Dieter, it's great to meet you. I really wanted to go to your painting exhibition today but I couldn't buy a ticket," said one man regretfully, "If you have a spare, I can buy it for four times the price."

“No, no, I'll buy it later,” the others started jostling and jostling.

Edward panicked. He pushed his way through the line and walked quickly forward. He slightly looked behind him and saw no one chasing him, so he was a little relieved, “What strange things did they just say? Painting exhibition? They must have mistaken me for someone else. How can I have that chance?”

Edward smiled scornfully at himself. The road stretched endlessly and his footsteps kept walking regardless of the direction. There were suddenly a lot of straight lines in front of him. They were waiting to enter a store. Edward was curious, so he stepped forward to take a closer look. This was not a shop but a gallery.

"It's the painter Edward Dieter!" Those in line who saw him shouted with admiration.

A man stepped out from inside and approached him with a sympathetic expression, “You're here. Do you want to come in? Everyone is waiting for you to bounce at that time.”

Edward was bewildered and led inside. The man holding his hand was an investor who once shooed him away when he presented his paintings. Now, this investor was extremely strange. Since when did they become close?

Edward went inside. The pictures hanging on the wall looked weird. They were drawings of demons or humans worshiping demons. Edward could not remember any painters who followed this strange school. While thinking, the investor led Edward to a high platform and clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.

"Today, let's raise a glass to celebrate the very successful exhibition of paintings by artist Edward Dieter," the investor's words echoed throughout the room and out into the street. Everyone responded enthusiastically with congratulations to Edward.

"No, this isn't..." Edward was about to refute the announcement. He couldn't accept the praise that came from other people's achievements. However, Edward immediately fell silent because something else caught his attention.

Edward went down to the high platform and to the huge column in the center of the gallery. The demon eye picture hanging in the center became everyone's top concern. That eye was very soulful and successfully seduced Edward.

No one noticed that Edward was standing blankly before the demon's eye. They passed him and talked about other paintings. Now, that eye blinked, but Edward felt no fear. It looked straight at him and started a conversation that only it and he heard.

"Hello, talented painter Edward Dieter, I would like to make a deal with you," the demon eye said in a strange voice. Edward couldn't tell if the voice was male or female.

“The deal?” Edward asked back in amazement at the splendor of the demon's eye.

“Yes, I will give you what you have always wanted. In return, you just have to do me a favor,” the demon eye explained.

“The thing I've always wanted? What do you want me to do for you?" Edward was puzzled and replied. He needed more information in the demon eye's words.

“I need human blood and the soul of someone who has just died,” the demon eye bluntly demanded.

"WHAT? So it's not like you asked me to kill people? I can't do that,” Edward frowned and shook his head. He does not want to do illegal things that affect his family and himself.

"Look around," the demon's words made Edward roll his eyes at the people enjoying the paintings in his name, "Don't you want this to happen? Don't you want to be recognized for your drawing talent? As long as you make a deal with me, I will help you get these and even more."

Edward was about to refuse again but another person suddenly approached and cut off his words.

“Edward,” came another painter who had also disparaged Edward’s skills, “I was wrong when I said your paintings were a mess and incoherent. I'm sorry. You are the most talented painter I know.”

The painter bowed his head and praised Edward causing the others to do the same. The cheers made him feel overwhelmed but extremely enjoyed.

“These things will only happen to you alone if you will cooperate with me. What's your final opinion?" The demon eye's voice still rang in Edward's ears.

Edward smiled sheepishly and replied secretly, "I agree to cooperate."