The metallic smell permeated throughout her studio as she dipped her paintbrush into one of the many shades of red that currently decorated her palette. It was a deep and rich red that could cause one to think of the freshest red rose petals. She smeared the colour into a rough arch above the neater and more professional arches of colour that were painted upon the blank, white canvas the night previous. The red liquid oozed over the other colours of her skilfully realistic rainbow, creating the gothic look that she was renowned for. As she watched the red bleed across the fabric, embedding itself in the crevices and orifices of the weaving, she devised the name for her newest creation. She named it “The Bleeding Rainbow.” It was not a creative name, at least, not to anyone else. However, all her paintings were inspired by a person she knew. This painting in particular was inspired by Leslie Powell, a very flamboyantly homosexual man she met at a gay pride parade. As a fairly well-known and local artist, she was called upon to create the signs and banners that the homosexuals would carry in the parade.
As she handed Leslie one of her many signs, he took her hand and slipped in a piece of folded paper. He claimed that a greater being was telling him that she and him were destined to be friends. With a sly smile, the artist accepted the piece of paper and found Leslie’s cell phone number, Facebook URL, MySpace URL, and Twitter alias written in curly, feminine letters. Upon returning to the abandoned warehouse she called home and work, the artist drew up each of the websites and added or followed each of Leslie’s social networking accounts. They conversed almost entirely over Facebook for the next few weeks and she began to learn more and more about Leslie’s past. He was disowned by his strictly Christian parents at a young age because of his sexual orientation. He had no boyfriends, no job, and rarely attended the university he was enrolled in. As far as the artist could tell, Leslie’s life was purposeless. He lived just because he could; surfing couches and helping plan gay pride events. She felt sorry for the poor and homeless gay man. In fact, she pitied his very existence. This pity lead the artist to invite Leslie over to her house for a cup of coffee and some cake. She greeted Leslie at the door with a hug and brought him to her studio where the chocolate cake and two cups of steaming coffee were situated on a small mosaic table.
As the artist began to cut the cake, she paused and looked up at her guest. Smiling, she asked Leslie if he would like to see her newest piece of art. He enthusiastically agreed and followed her to a drying painting. The painting was that of a brilliant rainbow, however, the red arch that should have capped the rainbow was missing. Just as Leslie turned to ask the artist about the missing colour, he felt the quick sensation of sharp metal piercing through his skin and down his arm then a heavenly rush of pleasure scrambled to overcome the pain of the wound. Before realizing what had happened, Leslie’s other arm was slashed and more endorphins were released, sending him into a deeper state of hormonal bliss. As his body collapsed to the cold concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse, spots of his vision began to fade, black overcame the colours of the world around him as he sunk deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. The artist worked quickly as Leslie’s precious blood drained from his veins and pooled on the concrete floor. From behind the rainbow canvas she pulled out two red plastic bowls and slung Leslie’s arms into them. Though it was a hard job, the artist managed to pull the gay man’s corpse into a deck chair where she was able to drain even more of his blood into the bowls.
Leslie was one of the many “friends” who helped the artist become famous. Among others were Dallas the gentleman’s club dancer, Simon the paranoid drug dealer, and Winston the unsuccessful businessman who had lost his family in a house fire. As payment for helping these poor, unfulfilled people restart their lives the artist would take their blood for her paintings and no one was any the wiser of her murders. The next afternoon, the artist carried her finished painting to the art gallery where she sold it for $2,000. Finally, within the last moments of his life, Leslie gained purpose in the world. Though not remembered by most, Leslie would always be known to the artist as “The Bleeding Rainbow.”
No comments:
Post a Comment